Rocinha slum - favela - , Río de Janeiro, Brazil. An agency arranges tours of the favelas and spends part of the gains is on charity in the favelas, mostly on building schools. This means that you're actually welcome - even though some of the young men, reasonably enough, showed signs of resentment.

Walpurgis Night 2011

 

SOOC

 

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between 2 "wolves" inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"

 

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Many of us wear "costumes." The business suit, formal dress garb, designer jeans, a shaved head or tattoo all make a statement. This is who I am; I am like the others in my tribe, clan or chosen group... I'm in.

 

Imagine a sect that demands black & white clothing to be seriously religious. Did not God create color? Imagine a group that shuns a member who does not sway and pray like the others, or at least pretend to. And so, resentment leads to conflict and hate.

 

In a "Criminal Minds" TV episode last year, a captured terrorist was asked why he could not practice his own faith, and allow others to observe theirs in peace? The prisoner withdrew into himself and mumbled a prayer. Mine is better... mine is the only right way.

 

And so, conflict and hate lead into wider polarities, and sadly the religious wars continue.

 

Nikon D5100, AF-S Nikkor 55-200 VR. My dental clinic is operated by an ultra-orthodox Hasidic group in Jerusalem. The young man in the photo was waiting for his dentist.

Identify the stumbling blocks to forgiveness and learn positive, practical methods to work through the anger, blame and resentment toward someone else, or directed toward ourselves.

 

Saturday, October 29, 2011

From 10:00 p.m. – 12:00 p.m.

 

Fee $15. Call Centre to register: 905-847-5520.

 

  

Theodore Samuel Williams was born on August 30, 1918 in San Diego, California. His father was a World War I veteran. Williams' mother was half-Mexican and worked for the Salvation Army. Williams grew up as the local baseball phenomenon and after graduating from high school, signed a contract with the San Diego Padres - then a minor league team of the Pacific Coast League. That December, the Boston Red Sox purchased Williams contract. After two years with the Red Sox's AAA minor league team in Minneapolis, Williams was brought to Boston. In his rookie year of 1939, he batted.327 with 31 home runs and 145 RBIs - the first rookie up to that time to lead the league in RBIs. From the outset, the out spoken, thin-skinned Williams had a contemptuous and confrontational relationship with Boston's fans and press. In August 1940, he was quoted in the press as calling Boston a lousy sports town, hating Fenway Park and fans, asking to be traded, and calling his $12,500 salary peanuts - later he denied the story. In 1941, he became the last major league hitter to bat over .400. The next year, Williams won the Triple Crown.

 

Meanwhile, Williams had been classified 3-A due to the fact that his mother was totally dependent on him. When his classification was changed to 1-A following the U.S. entry into the war, Williams appealed to his draft board. The board agreed that his status should not have been changed. He made a public statement that once he had built up his mother's trust fund, he intended to enlist. Nevertheless, the press and the fans got on his case to the point that he enlisted in the Navy on May 22, 1942. Williams could have received an easy assignment and played baseball for the Navy. Instead, he joined the V-5 program and set his sights on being a Naval Aviator. Navy doctors were amazed when his eyes tested to 20/10 - a key to his hitting prowess. Since he had not attended college, Williams was first sent to the Navy's Preliminary Ground School at Amherst College, following the baseball season, for six months of instruction in various subjects including math and navigation. He achieved a 3.85 grade average out of a possible 4.0. The next four months were spent in the Preflight School at Athens, Georgia. From September to December 1943, Williams took primary training at NAS Bunker Hill, Indiana. He then went to Pensacola for intermediate training where he set records in aerial gunnery. Williams received his wings and commission in the Marine Corps on May 2, 1944.

 

Williams then attended gunnery training at Jacksonville where he once again set gunnery records. He then returned to Pensacola where he served as an instructor at Bronson Field. He played baseball for the base team, the Bronson Bombers, which won the Training Command championship that year. Due to an excess of cadets, instructors were mandated to washout one third of their students. Williams refused to washout good students for the sake of statistics and was called on the carpet for it. He stood his ground and replied: "If I think a kid is going to make a competent flyer, I won't wash him." From June to August 1945, Williams went through the Corsair Operational Training Unit at Jacksonville. He was in Hawaii awaiting orders as a replacement pilot when the war ended. Williams returned to the States in December and was discharged from the Marines on January 28, 1946.

 

Williams returned to the Red Sox in 1946 and took up where he had left off, leading the team to the World Series, and winning the MVP crown. In 1947 and 1948, he won the American League batting championship and was the MVP again in 1949. On May 2, 1952, Williams was recalled to active duty due to the Korean War. He was now 33 years old, married with a child, and had not flown in eight years. He resented being recalled and said so years later. Williams was not alone in his unhappiness - many other WW II veterans recalled for the Korean War had similar feelings. These veterans felt they had done their share in World War II and it was someone else's job to fight this war. Especially after they were well established in their careers and had families. Additional resentment was felt because the Navy and the Marines recalled members of the inactive reserves instead of active reserves. Mitchner referred to this situation in his work The Bridges at Toko-Ri. After completing jet refresher training in the F9F at Cherry Point, NC, Williams joined VMF-311 in Korea. He flew 37 combat missions and had a narrow escape when he crash-landed a flak damaged aircraft. Several missions were flown with John Glenn. Among the decorations he received was the Air Medal with two Gold Stars for meritorious achievement. Williams returned to the States and relieved from active duty on July 28, 1953.

 

Williams returned to the Red Sox for the remainder of the season, batting .407 with 13 homeruns. In 1954, he incurred several injuries and retired at the end of the season. Next spring he had a change of heart and rejoined the team. The next two years, injuries reduced his playing time. During 1957 and 1958, Williams was in good health and responded by winning the American League batting championship both years. Injuries and age caught up with him, and he retired at the end of the 1960 season, hitting a home run his last time at bat. Returning to baseball, Williams managed the Washington Senators for four years and won the Manager of the Year in 1968, his first season.

 

Ted Williams was one of the greatest baseball players of all time with the fourth highest lifetime batting average. He ranks high in many other categories as well. If his relationship with the press had been better, he probably would have been voted MVP more than he was. One can only speculate what he could have achieved if his baseball career had not be interrupted during the four and a half years he spent in World War II and Korea. In 1966, Williams was elected to baseball's Hall of Fame. His hometown of San Diego renamed a street Ted Williams Way and the State of California designated a nine-mile segment of route 56 as Ted Williams Parkway. The 1999 All-Star Game was held at Boston's Fenway Park. Williams was the guest of honor and it was quite a touching thing to see how much he is revered by today's fans and players.

 

Ted Williams passed way on July 5, 2002 in Inverness, Florida

Rocinha slum - favela - , Río de Janeiro, Brazil. An agency arranges tours of the favelas and spends part of the gains is on charity in the favelas, mostly on building schools. This means that you're actually welcome - even though some of the young men, reasonably enough, showed signs of resentment.

Coptic Christians in Cairo Egypt living in El Zabaleen, or garbage city. For generations families would work together to collect all the rubbish from the streets of Cairo and take it back to their homes. They then sift and sort through all the items which are then sold on to merchants. 85% of all solid waste is thus recycled from the city.

 

Families used to own pigs that used to eat the organic waste but everyone of them was slaughtered during 2009 during the outbreak of the H1N1 'swine' flu, even though there were no cases reported in Egypt. It was the only country that carried out a mass cull, and was also reported that it was done in an inhumane manner. This increased tension and resentment with the Government.

Actually, with so many kinds of bark collars on the market, how does one choose the best bark collar? Let’s look at the issue from the point of view of the animal itself. An animal can learn to adapt to new behavior without being shocked or punished with pain, as is the case when a dog owner or trainer uses an electric shock collar or a choke chain. If you believe that dogs should be treated more humanely, even if they are being trained, then your best choice is the No Bark Citronella Spray Collar. This spray collar was specially designed to react instantly to unwanted behavior barking without harming or causing pain to the animal. How is it able to accomplish behavioral modification without the aid of electricity or pinching metal prongs? The secret lies in the harmless citronella liquid that is loaded into the No Bark Dog Collar before use. Powerful air pressure ejects a very small amount of citronella spray into the air when the dog is barking. The citronella spray has a pleasant smell and does not harm any creature, dog or human. But do not let this fool you. Millions of dog owners have attested to the fact that a single jet of citronella spray can help stop excessive barking. The scented spray distracts the dog, which in turn helps it understand that the behavior is undesirable and should be stopped. Essentially, you will be able to benefit from the same impact that a shock collar can produce, without harming your dog. The beautiful thing about the No Bark Spray Collar is that it doesn’t breed resentment in your dog. Because there is no pain or discomfort involved at all, it will actually help deepen your bond with your dog because you can train it without causing discomfort. Honestly, i think this is a great thing, because you cannot buy this type of bond anywhere. You need the right training tools, and one of the most helpful tools in this area is the No Bark Citronella Collar. Here are some other reasons to love this Collar 1) It won’t break the bank, because you can buy it anywhere. Sometimes online stores have sales, and you can get a brand-new one for a fraction of the original price. 2) This bark collar features the same technology used by more expensive products that allows it to react only when the vibration from the neck and actual barking is detected. This is important to avoid false corrections that will only confuse the dog. 3) The collar itself is adaptive, and can be used for small and large breeds easily. If your dog is at least six pounds at the time of training, the No Bark Citronella Spray Collar is a perfect fit, guaranteed. As a matter of fact, the results of this corrective device is instant, and you won’t have to wait for several corrections before the dog understands that it has to stop barking. bit.ly/18srWmF

background image courtesy of fantasystock.deviantart.com

 

Then I realized as I was taking this picture - damn it's hard to see him! so then it dawned on me that I became a new mother only 2 weeks ago, and I have yet to change his water diaper! But then it hit me, ohmygoddess I have a FEAR of fish, slimy things and anything moving - how the hell was I going to clean his fish pitcher without killing him? I hadn't even thought of this when I adopted him! I almost killed him the first 5 min (), but we made this far (2 weeks). I adopted a beta b.c they were so low maintenance - the closest thing I could have to love in SD without having to talk about my feelings and harboring resentment for unrequited human interaction without the words "research or sociology." But how do I clean him? Thankgod Katie called me and I told her about my anxiety with cleaning Benjamin Franklin, so she told me get a net! I don't have a net and I didn't want to drive to Petsmart b.c I hate going over train rail tracks since I was almost hit on Friday by the SD trolley that only goes 3 stops. So I decided I could do this - just find something that looks like a net in the kitchen.

The Postcard

 

A postally unused carte postale published by Sansen-Vanneste of Poperinghe.

 

Poperinghe

 

Poperinghe (also spelled Poperinge) is a town in the Belgian province of West Flanders. It has a history going back to medieval times.

 

Poperinghe is situated about 8 miles to the west of Leper/Ypres. As well as lace production, the region is famous for growing hops, and supplies 80% of Belgian production.

 

The town is home to the National Hops Museum, and is nicknamed 'Hops City'. A hop festival and parade is held every three years in September. One of the local brews is known as Hommel (which means hops in the local dialect).

 

There are over 800 different types of beer in Belgium. Another of the famous local beers is Sixtus, which is brewed in the St.-Sixtus Abbey near Proven, about 2.5 miles (4 km) north-west of Poperinge.

 

Poperinghe in the Great War

 

During the Great War, the town was one of only two in Belgium that was not under German occupation.

 

Throughout the Great War Poperinghe, or 'Pops' as British soldiers called it, was used by the British Army as a gateway to the battlefields of the northern Ypres Salient.

 

Poperinghe was an important rail centre just behind the front line, and was used for the distribution of supplies, for billeting troops, for casualty clearing stations and for troops at rest from duty in the forward trench areas. Vast numbers of troops passed through this small town at some time or other.

 

The main square of Poperinghe formed the hub of five main roads leading into the town, and was therefore constantly bustling with military traffic, military personnel and those civilians who had stayed on in the town.

 

Artillery and Aerial Bomb Attacks

 

Because of its importance to the military behind the front Allied lines, the town was frequently targeted by long range German artillery. During the Third Battle of Ypres (31st. July - 10th. November 1917) Poperinge and the surrounding area was repeatedly bombed by German aircraft. Some bombs landed on the Casualty Clearing Stations nearby.

 

Toc H

 

The town formed an important link for soldiers and their families, especially through the rest house known as Talbot House (or 'Toc H'). It was established by the Reverend 'Tubby' Clayton in December 1915 as an 'Everyman's Club' for soldiers and officers of the British Army. It is now a museum.

 

'Toc H' is a shortened form of Talbot House, with 'Toc' signifying the letter T in the signals spelling alphabet used by the British Army in the Great War.

 

Death Cells

 

A grim reminder of that time remains within the town hall, where two death cells are preserved, and outside in the courtyard, where there is a public execution post that was used by firing squads.

 

Military Cemeteries

 

Another reminder of the Great War is the location of a number of military cemeteries on the outskirts of the town which contain the graves of Canadian, British, Australian, French, German, and American servicemen, as well as men of the Chinese Labour Corps.

 

One of these cemeteries is Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery for soldiers who had been wounded near Ypres and later died in the large Allied casualty clearing stations located in the area.

 

Shot at Dawn

 

Sergeant John T. Wall of Bockleton, near Tenbury, Worcestershire had enlisted in the Worcestershire Regiment as a drummer boy aged 16 in 1912, and served bravely in many actions on the Western Front from the beginning of the Great War.

 

At 5.25 am on the 6th September 1917, Sergeant Wall was executed by firing squad at Poperinghe for desertion. He was 22 years of age.

 

He is buried in Poperinghe New Military Cemetery. His parents William and Harriet Wall placed the following inscription on his gravestone:

 

'For ever with the Lord'.

 

He was one of hundreds of British soldiers of the Great War who were shot by their own men for supposed cowardice or desertion.

 

Sergeant Wall was executed at dawn for refusing to take his men to a near-certain death. He had spent the night before in one of the death cells referred to above.

 

The ground he was supposed to cover was a pestilent porridge of poison gas-soaked, bomb-cratered mud that had been turned into a glutinous, knee-deep swamp by a previous heavy thunderstorm. The area was intensively raked by enemy shells and machine gun fire.

 

He was charged with desertion and executed, although refusing to lead his men in a suicidal attack was in reality good soldiering common sense. Common sense was however, sadly often in short supply in the upper hierarchy of the British Army during the Great War.

 

A Typical Execution

 

The condemned private spends his last night in a small room, alone with his thoughts before his execution at dawn. He might be writing painful letters to family and friends. He is also likely to be encouraged to drink heavily in order to be insensible during execution. The private is guarded by two military policemen (MPs or redcaps) and ministered by a chaplain.

 

The condemned man’s commanding officer (CO) orders a company of men to witness the execution, wanting to set an example to other would-be deserters. Meanwhile a firing squad assembles, sick with nerves, in the dawn light. Some of the men know the condemned and have mixed feelings about his fate, some even carrying deep resentment at having to execute him. Their rifles have been pre-loaded—one with a blank—to take some of the individual responsibility away from shooting their fighting pal.

 

The condemned man is led, blind drunk, to a post by two redcaps, his hands tied behind his back. The lieutenant waits at the side of the shooting party, with a medical officer (MO). The lieutenant (Lt.) gives the order to shoot the prisoner. Some deliberately shoot wide. Two of the men vomit on the spot. The MO checks the prisoner over and concludes that the private is mortally wounded, but not dead. The young lieutenant, with shaky hands, administers the coup de grâce: a bullet to the head.

 

A military ambulance stands by to take the corpse off to be buried. That same evening the battalion colonel writes a letter to the private’s parents informing them that their son has been shot at the front. He leaves the message deliberately ambiguous, sparing the man’s family any difficult feelings about his execution.

 

Posthumous Pardons

 

The 'Shot at Dawn' Memorial in Alrewas, Staffordshire, originally contained the names of 306 men who were executed for 'cowardice' or 'desertion'.

 

With many now recognised as having been suffering from mental illnesses such as post-traumatic stress disorder, these men were posthumously pardoned by Royal Assent in November 2006.

 

The Staffordshire memorial was created to honour their sacrifices, along with all those who died in combat fighting for the British Empire during the Great War.

 

200,000 serving soldiers were officially court-martialled by the British High Command during the Great War.

 

Of these, 20,000 were found guilty of offences that carried the death penalty. 3,000 officially received it, although most of these sentences were subsequently commuted.

 

In the end, of the 3,000, 346 executions were carried out by firing squad.

 

Now, of the 40 names left off the Shot at Dawn Memorial, three have been added, thanks to the persistence of memorial creator Andy DeComyn.

 

They are New Zealander Jack Braithwaite, Gunner William Lewis from Scotland, and Jesse Robert Short, from Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.

 

Jack Braithwaite

 

Braithwaite's 'mutiny', according to the Birmingham Mail, consisted of nothing more than a misdemeanour.

 

The bohemian former journalist, who'd confessed at his trial to not being a natural soldier, had tried to calm down a belligerent prisoner at Blargies prison in Rouen by taking the man to his tent to feed him.

 

The soldier, Private Little, had been a ringleader in a small uprising against the prison guards. But Little was an Australian, and couldn't be executed because Australia's government wouldn't allow Great Britain to execute its soldiers.

 

Unfortunately Braithwaite was a New Zealander, and could be executed. His attempt to defuse the potential riot (sparked by appalling conditions at the prison) involved him leading Little away from the custody of a staff sergeant, which officially amounted to mutiny.

 

Jack was subsequently shot by firing squad on the 28th. August 1916.

 

Gunner William Lewis

 

Jack's execution occurred within five minutes of Gunner William Lewis, who'd also been involved in the uprising at the prison.

 

Corporal Jesse Short

 

Meanwhile, Corporal Jesse Short was condemned to death for uttering:

 

"Put a rope around that bugger's neck,

tie a stone to it and throw him into the

river".

 

He was said to be inciting guards barring his exit from the infamous 'Bull Ring' training camp to rebel against their officer.

 

This was the September 1917 Étaples Mutiny, an uprising by around 80 servicemen rebelling against what are now acknowledged to have been harsh and unreasonable conditions at the camp.

 

The uprising was depicted in the 1978 book (and 1986 BBC series) 'The Monocled Mutineer', the lead character in which is said to have been based at least partially on Corporal Short.

 

Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, confirmed Short's death sentence (as he had Lewis's a year earlier).

 

Short, Lewis, and Braithwaite received their pardons and have been honoured along with comrades who fell in battle.

 

The remaining 37 men who were shot, according to Richard Pursehouse of the Staffordshire military history research group the Chase Project, were not executed for mutiny, but murder.

 

As this also would have resulted in a death sentence even under civil law codes of the time, it was decided that their names should not be added to the memorial.

 

Senior Constable Rose Egan was a fictional character in the long-running Australian police drama Blue Heelers. She was introduced in the series when she came to Mount Thomas police station to do some detective work with PJ as she was going for a job in CI. She was greeted with resentment from Maggie who also hoped to get the same job and she thought PJ was all for her getting it. She remained for several episodes until the station was deemed to have too many officers. Latest arrival Rose was transferred.

 

Portrayed by Dale Stevens, 1994 – 1995

Ace, 1971, pb I love this cover. I always blink when I look at the beast with four eyes - like I'm seeing double. Anyone know who the artist is? He or she deserves credit even if Ace did not list it in the book nor is it noted in the ISFDB - Internet Science Fiction Data Base. CR

 

review by CR:

Ms Norton elaborates upon the concept that propels this story in her introduction to the novel. I will summarize her scheme using selected quotes from her Prologue: "History is not a collection of facts; it is a spiders web of ifs. If the American colonies had lost the Revolution, if the South and not the North had won the Civil War...the procession of such ifs is endless, exciting the imagination and spurring infinite speculation. There is a fascinating theory that two worlds branch from every bit of destiny action. Hence there are far reaching bands of parallel worlds born of many historical choices. Thus if some means of communication could be devised a man might travel not backwards or forward in time but across it to visit, for example, a world were England rules the entire North American continent." The "means of communication" her star traveling adventures employs is a "Star Gate" mechanism, a featured element of the book by the same title.

 

The plot of this story concerns an interstellar expedition to an inhabited world and the unintended harmful consequence that result. The planet Gorth is primary agrarian ruled by hereditary clans. Various city-states with a technological level akin to England in the middle ages joust for supremacy. Over the course of generations the "Star Lords" interbreed with the native human stock producing mix breed offspring who acquire some knowledge of the superior technology of the Star Lords. Native fears, resentment and anger cause the majority of the Star Lords to eventually leave Gorth in their starships. A small remnant of Star Lord remain but despairing they can erases the negative consequences of their presence decide to escape to an alternate Gorth in a "Star Gate" accompanied by several of their mixed breed children. The bulk of the novel concerns the attempt by the gate travelers to rectify an appalling political sistuations found on the "new" Gorth.

 

One theme that plays a critical role throughout this book is religion. Both the Star Lords and the Gorths have a similar belief system. How this can be is never explained but like many of Norton's novels there is usually a sequel where all is made somewhat clearer. Unfortunately in this case there was no follow up novel.

 

This is an exceptional story and a fine example of Ms Norton's admirable writing ability and plotting.

Rocinha slum - favela - , Río de Janeiro, Brazil. An agency arranges tours of the favelas and spends part of the gains is on charity in the favelas, mostly on building schools. This means that you're actually welcome - even though some of the young men, reasonably enough, showed signs of resentment.

The Martyrs of Gorkum (Dutch: Martelaren van Gorcum) were a group of 19 Dutch Catholic clerics, secular and religious, who were hanged on 9 July 1572 in the town of Brielle (or Den Briel) by militant Dutch Calvinists during the 16th century religious wars—specifically, the Dutch Revolt against Spanish rule, which developed into the Eighty Years' War.

 

In the first half of the 16th century, various forms of Protestantism—particularly, Lutheranism and Calvinism—were spreading through Western Europe. In the Low Countries, then under the rule of Spain, Emperor Charles V and his son King Philip II instituted a systematic campaign to root out the new religious movements, which resulted in political resentment towards the authorities, including the Catholic Church.

 

By 1572 the Netherlands were in open revolt against Spanish rule, while in the internal rivalry among the Protestant denominations, Calvinism managed to suppress Lutheranism. On 1 April of the next year, Calvinist forces and a rebel group called the Watergeuzen (Sea Beggars) captured Brielle (Den Briel) and later Vlissingen (Flushing).

 

In June, Dordrecht and Gorkum fell, and at the latter the rebels captured nine Franciscans: Nicholas Pieck, guardian of Gorkum; Hieronymus of Weert, vicar; Theodorus van der Eem of Amersfoort; Nicasius Janssen of Heeze; Willehad of Denmark; Godefried of Mervel; Antonius of Weert; Antonius of Hoornaer, and Franciscus de Roye of Brussels. To these were added two lay brothers from the same friary, Petrus of Assche and Cornelius of Wijk bij Duurstede. At almost the same time the Calvinists arrested the parish priest of Gorkum, Leonardus Vechel of 's-Hertogenbosch, and his assistant.

 

Also imprisoned were Godefried van Duynsen of Gorkum, a priest in his native city, and Joannes Lenartz of Oisterwijk, a Canon Regular from a nearby priory and spiritual director for the monastery of Augustinian nuns in Gorkum. To these fifteen were later added four more companions: Joannes van Hoornaer (alias known as John of Cologne), a Dominican of the Cologne province and parish priest not far from Gorkum, who when apprised of the incarceration of the clergy of Gorkum hastened to the city in order to administer the sacraments to them and was seized and imprisoned with the rest; Jacobus Lacops of Oudenaar, a Norbertine, who became a curate in Monster, South Holland; Adrianus Janssen of Hilvarenbeek, a Premonstratensian canon and at one time parish priest in Monster, who was sent to Brielle with Jacobus Lacops. Last was Andreas Wouters of Heynoord.

 

In prison at Gorkum (from 26 June to 6 July 1572), the first 15 prisoners were transferred to Brielle, arriving there on 8 July. On their way to Dordrecht they were exhibited for money to the curious. The following day, William de la Marck, Lord of Lumey, commander of the Gueux de mer, had them interrogated and ordered a disputation. In the meantime, four others arrived. It was demanded of each that he abandon his belief in the Transubstantiation, the doctrine of the real presence of Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, as well as the belief in the Papal supremacy. All remained firm in their faith. Meanwhile, there came a letter from the Prince of Orange, William the Silent, which enjoined all those in authority to leave priests and religious unmolested. Despite this call, on 9 July, they were hanged in a turfshed.

 

A shrub bearing 19 white flowers is said to have sprung up at the site of their martyrdom. Many miracles have since been attributed to the intercession of the Gorkum Martyrs, especially the curing of hernias. The beatification of the martyrs took place on 14 November 1675, and their canonization on 29 June 1867. Their elevation to sainthood, which took place on the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, was part of grand celebrations marking 1,800 years since the traditional year for the martyrdom of the two apostles in Rome.

 

For many years the place of their martyrdom in Brielle has been the scene of numerous pilgrimages and processions. The reliquary of their remains is now enshrined in the Church of Saint Nicholas, Brussels, Belgium (Wikipedia).

 

The Tuareg (also Twareg or Touareg, Amazigh: Imuhagh/Itargiyen, besides regional ethnyms) are a Berber nomadic pastoralist people. They are the principal inhabitants of the Saharan interior of North Africa. They call themselves variously Kel Tamasheq or Kel Tamajaq ("Speakers of Tamasheq"), Imuhagh, Imazaghan or Imashaghen ("the Free people"), or Kel Tagelmust, i.e., "People of the Veil". The name Tuareg was applied to them by early explorers and historians.

 

The origin and meaning of the name Twareg has long been debated with various etymologies advanced, although it would appear that Twārəg is derived from the "broken plural" of Tārgi, a name whose former meaning was "inhabitant of Targa" (the Tuareg name of the Libyan region commonly known as Fezzan.

 

The Tuareg today are found mostly in North Africa and West Africa. Some historians claim they progressively moved south over the last 2000 years. They were once nomads throughout the Sahara. They have a little-used but ancient script known as the Tifinagh.

 

Tuaregs are mostly nomads. For over two millennia, the Tuareg operated the trans-Saharan caravan trade connecting the great cities on the southern edge of the Sahara via five desert trade routes to the northern (Mediterranean) coast of Africa. The Tuareg adopted camel nomadism, along with its distinctive form of social organization, from camel-herding Arabs about two thousand years ago, when the camel was introduced to the Sahara from Arabia. The Tuareg once took captives, either for trade and sale, or for domestic labor purposes. Those who were not sold became assimilated into the Tuareg community. Captive servants and herdsmen formed a component of the division of labor in camel nomadism.

 

In the late nineteenth century, the Tuareg resisted the French colonial invasion of their Central Saharan homelands. Tuareg broadswords were no match for the more advanced weapons of French squadrons. After numerous massacres on both sides,[6] the Tuareg were subdued and required to sign treaties in Mali 1905 and Niger 1917. In southern Morocco and Algeria, the French met some of the strongest resistance from the Ahaggar Tuareg. Their Amenokal, traditional chief Moussa ag Amastan, fought numerous battles in defense of the region. Finally, Tuareg territories were taken under French governance, and their confederations were largely dismantled and reorganized.

 

Before French colonization, the Tuareg were organized into loose confederations, each consisting of a dozen or so tribes. Each of the main groups had a traditional leader called Amenokal, along with an assembly of tribal chiefs (imɤaran, singular amɤar). The groups were the Kel Ahaggar, Kel Ajjer, Kel Ayr, Adrar n Fughas, Iwəlləmədan, and Kel Gres.

 

When African countries achieved widespread independence in the 1960s, the traditional Tuareg territory was divided among a number of modern nations: Niger, Mali, Algeria, Morocco, Libya, and Burkina Faso. Competition for resources in the Sahel have since lead to conflicts between the Tuareg and neighboring African groups, especially after political disruption and economic constraints following French colonization and independence. There have been tight restrictions placed on nomadization because of high population growth. Desertification is exacerbated by human activity i.e.; exploitation of resources and the increased firewood needs of growing cities. Some Tuareg are therefore experimenting with farming; some have been forced to abandon herding and seek jobs in towns and cities.

 

In Mali, a Tuareg uprising resurfaced in the Adrar N'Fughas mountains in the 1960s, following Mali's independence. Several Tuareg joined, including some from the Adrar des Iforas in northeastern Mali. The 1960 rebellion was a fight between a group of Tuareg and the independent state of Mali, which was then only recently formed. The Malian Army suppressed the revolt. Resentment among the Tuareg fueled the second uprising.

An old Cherokee was teaching his grandchildren about life.

 

He said to them, "A battle is raging inside me ... it is a terrible fight between two wolves.

 

One wolf represents fear, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance,

self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.

 

The other stands for joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, serenity, humility,

kindness, benevolence, friendship, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith".

 

The old man fixed the children with a firm stare. "This same fight is going

on inside you, and inside every other person, too".

 

They thought about it for a minute and then one child asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

 

The old Cherokee replied: "The one you feed".

The early 14th century was a time of unrest in England as baronial resentment of the privileges given by Edward II to Piers Gaveston and other favourites led to the formation of factions and transformed local feuds into open warfare. Locally, the Banastre family and their supporters were pitted against a faction led by Sir Robert de Holland in a campaign of extortion, terror (including murder) and general disorder that culminated in the hearing of pleas before the King at Wigan in 1324. A record of the proceedings is preserved at National Archives ref. KB 27/254.* Of particular interest are the references to the formation by Richard de Holland of of a sworn confederacy with Thurstan de Norley and around 30 other individuals at “Garteswode” a fortnight before Christmas in 1321** and its renewal, again “at Garteswode”, on 12 February 1323.

 

It is tempting to identify this “Garteswode” or “Gartwod” as the complex of platforms and moats shown on certain pre-1960s maps between Old Garswood Hall Farm and the present-day A580. As Jennifer Lewis comments,

 

“A well-defended house surrounded by wide moats, such as those at Garswood Old Hall, would have been well-suited for such meetings”.***

 

However the theory is somewhat in conflict with documentary evidence of the site's occupation at this time by the de Atherton family, whose allegiance was with the opposing Banastre faction. Nearly 700 years later it is impossible to establish the truth of the matter.

 

*“Coram Rege Chief Justice's roll, venues: York, Nottingham (GD), Tutbury, Wigan (GD); 17 Edw II Michaelmas”. The relevant passages are transcribed and/or translated from the original Latin and French in “South Lancashire in the reign of Edward II as illustrated by the pleas at Wigan recorded in Coram Rege roll no. 254”, George Henry Tupling (ed), in Chetham Soc I, 3rd Series, 1949.

**“apud Garteswod anno regis nunc xv. prope (?) quindenam ante festum Natalis Domini”. The location of the December 1321 meeting is given elsewhere in the pleadings as “Gartwod” in Salford Hundred; George Henry Tupling assumes that the witnesses meant West Derby, not Salford, and confidently identifies the place as “Garswood, near Ashton in Makerfield”.

 

Image: Detail (membrane 17) from National Archives ref. KB 27/254.

Three generations of a family come together one summer, around the eventual passing of the patriarch of the family, a WWII veteran. Gathered at the family home and in and around their beautiful shoreline town, years of resentment and betrayal within the family surface, and the grandson, a college student, does his part to hold them all together, growing up in the process.

 

Harvest is a poignant story that is ultimately uplifting, with moments of humor anchoring this realistic portrait of a family hanging on to what was, what is, and to each other.

 

Written & Directed by Marc Meyers

Produced by Jody Girgenti & Marc Meyers

An Ibid Filmworks Production

 

Watch this video on Vimeo. Video created by Ibid Filmworks.

“Without forgiveness life is governed by an endless cycle of resentment and retaliation” - Roberto Assagioli

    

Picture Info:

Place: Catholic Church - Jibla , Kuwait

Camera: Nikon D300

Exposure: 0.2 sec (1/5)

Aperture: f/5.3

Focal Length: 112 mm

ISO Speed: 800

Exposure Bias: 4/3 EV

          

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

Warning!:

-Please Don`t Comment With Your Last Picture Or URL, Your Comment Will Be Deleted

-Silly Comments Will Be DELETED!.

 

Phorographers take Pictures for a Purpose! They Do So To Give a Message to the Viewer.

 

All Rights Reserved for The Photographer. Any usage of the Picture without permission will cause you legal action.

Strange image, I know. It's my husband who is anything but psychedelic. (I think I spelled that wrong?)

 

I'm just about to go to the "Y" and get in the pool, I love doing my work out. Later I have the excitement of getting my Honda CRV serviced, wow.

 

Actually though, it's been a great weekend, very productive in terms of getting the organizational project started in the office. Paul and I are both on the same page about what needs done and we're focusing on the job no matter how long it takes. My main jobs at this time of my life are all about family and home, to get things in order and parent Tanner. I feel confident that if I narrow my focus down to these two for a while it will enable me to expand it in the near future and gain more balance. Tanner is a very challenging kid and getting more that way as time goes by and he realizes more about his situation (flakey parents, being raised by grandparents etc.). He's also A.D.D. like his dad, pretty severe, and he seems to have Oppositional, Defiant Disorder. He's not a fun kid to raise in many ways and I realize that it will take a very concentrated effort to achieve success. I'm not feeling sorry for myself at this point, just realizing that I am having to choose priorities and move ahead with my life.

 

So, I'm taking a deep breath and plunging in. I will still be drawing and I am looking forward to painting in the near future. I know that I have to take care of myself or I will be swallowed up and filled with resentment which is counter productive.

 

On that serious note I must end and head for the pool!

My daughter's Gluten free cupcake was prettier then my pie lol

 

I thought I would post some of my favorite quotes since each year we are supposed to become wiser. I am not always sure but I do love quotes lol

 

Life is like a camera.. So face it with a SMILE!

 

I own this day, this moment, this time. It is mine to do with as I wish. You can come along for the ride but remember, you are only a passenger.

 

The greatest and hardest battle you will ever face in your life, is the battle to be yourself

 

Be a VOICE, not an ECHO

 

There were two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.

 

Age is not measured by years. Nature does not equally distribute energy. Some people are born old and tired while others are going strong at seventy. — Dorothy Thompson

 

Do not think that love, in order to be genuine, has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired.— Mother Teresa

 

Both optimists and pessimists contribute to society. The optimist invents the airplane, the pessimist invents the parachute. — George Bernard Shaw

 

Depression is merely anger without the enthusiasm.

 

"I seek strength, not to be greater than others, but to fight my greatest enemy, the doubt within myself."

 

"There is no quota on misery for people, no quantifiable threshold that once reached got you miraculously taken out of the distress pool." —J.R. Ward

 

"Have you Ever Noticed That after Mon and Tues. even the calendar says W T F!!"

 

"Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I`m halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God....I could be eating a slow learner."

 

"Having resentment is like taking poison and wait for the other person to die

 

"If stress burned calories I'd be flipping invisible.

 

"Be careful of your thoughts, they may become words at any moment"

 

A mind is like a parachute. If it doesn't open, you're fk'd!

 

"Gossip is just news running ahead of itself in a red satin dress"

 

"It sounded like a good idea at the time "

 

"I am medicated for your protection"

 

“The first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want.”

 

"Any day above ground is a good one."

 

"Why is it that an extended olive branch often turns to a clinched fist of hatred?"

 

"The moment in between what you once were, and who you are now becoming, is where the dance of life really takes place."

 

"There are things I can't force. I must adjust. There are times when the greatest change needed is a change of my viewpoint."

 

"We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person."

The man struggles to exorcise the woman out of her own anger and jealousy.

 

"The hannya mask is specifically used to represent a vengeful and jealous woman. Her anger and envy have so consumed her that she has turned into a demon, but with some important traces of humanity left. The pointed horns, gleaming eyes, fang-like teeth, combined with a look of pure resentment and hate are tempered by the expression of suffering around the eyes and the artfully disarrayed strands of hair, which indicate passionate emotion thrown into disorder"

 

Onnagata Daigoro Tachibana dances in the spotlight. He is best remembered as the Geisha Osei in Takeshi Kitano's Zatoichi: The Blind Swordsman (2003). Together with him is Ryouji Tachibana, the current Vice Chairman of the Troupe.

HISTORY OF MOULTON VALLEY, IDAHO Willie Erdix Mounton came to the valley in covered wagons with his wife and their seven children and his brother Otis Moulton. They came from Gooding, Idaho, september 1909. Albert and Otis Moulton filed on homesteads. Laura and Willis took desert claims in 1909. Albert built a big two story house. Otis had a long cabin on his land. The house on Albert's land was the first location for the Moulton, Idaho, Post Office. In some mysterious way the house caught on fire and burned the whole top off. The family fought to save the lower part of the house and the cointents of the office. They passed buckets and pumped water from the well. All the bedding and clothes upstairs were burned. The winter of 1909 was long and lonely. Only a few trappers or someone on the way to the Holtman ranch, which was some miles south, would stop by to visit. One man stopped because he heard the Moulton girls playing their organ. It was very strange to hear music about the tall sagebrush. By 1910 the valley was most all homesteaded. This built up resentment from the big cattle companies, The Miller and Lux cattle companies drove big herds through the land on the way up and over Granite Pass to Nevada. The cattlemen must have thought Mr. Moulton was the leader of this settlement, and he was the one to frighten off. One evening the foreman of the Keogh Ranch drove up very close to the house with his small buggy. He said he was Jack Crisp, and his boss had sent him to say, there was not enough room for the cattle. They would see the settlers all left the land by fair means or foul. As he spoke, he struck the ground very close to Bill Moulton's feet, Bill Mouton never moved. He just stood there smiling at the man. Then he told him, he was a long way from home and he would be welcome to spend the night there. The man looked astonished. Then he said, he guessed there would be room in the valley for all. They could all be good neighbors, and they were from that day on. The year 1910 was a good one. The grain grew six feet tall. But those who had to go to work and leave their families were not so fortunate. Some of the women made dresses from quilt scraps, when they could not buy calico goods. Most of them had a cow. They cooked boiled wheat and ate it with milk. This did not make them bitter as to make them want to leave. The nearest doctor was twenty miles away. However, each pioneer was a doctor in his own way, and helped his less fortunate neighbors. One year Mr. Chris Moeller and Charles Augustine got ptomaine poisoning from eating canned fish. They were ill for weeks. Not one day were they left alone. Every man in the valley took turns staying day and night with them. The only crops raised there were the ones that would ripen quickly, as winter came early. Snow fell before all the grain was threshed. The grain grown was wheat, rye, barley and oats, and some hardy vegetables for the gardens. One year a snow storm came in June and froze the crops, even the hay. Many had to take their stock from the valley and buy feed for the winter. Then came a drought and dried all the grain crops. There was no school for the children and some families sent them to a school in Utah about eight miles away. It was not such a good school and too cold to make the sixteen mile trip in the winter. The children in Utah, belonging to that district, had never seen strangers. They were not sociable. The first school was held at Robert Griffith's log house and the teachers name was Mrs. Mable Ross. Four of the Moulton children and the two children of Mr. Irvin Johnson attended that year (1911-12). In July 1912, a big log school house was built by the men of that district. Each one helped get the logs and Robert Griffith bought the lumber, for the top, from Strevell, Idaho. It was not built with the school district money. The school section, where a school was supposed to be built, was too far from any of the school childrens homes. Robert Griffith gave two acres of ground for the school. He did not deed it to the district, because at the time he had not proved up on his homestead. The first teacher in the new school was a Mr. Freed (1912-13). Mr. Will Pack taught in 1914-15. There were about twenty pupils in grades one to eight. Two graduated from the eighth grade that year. Mr. Pack was a good teacher. The first child, of those settlers, was born May 1910, to a Mr. and Mrs. Fred Kidman. She was named Cassie. The first wedding was January 1, 1911, at the Moulton ranch. Miss Mary Moulton and Robert Griffith were married by the Bishop from Almo, Idaho. A store was built by Mr. and Mrs. fred Hubbard. They came from Albion, Idaho in 1912. Before the building for the store was built, they put up a big tent. The first entertainment provided was a pavillion. It was built for dancing. It was on Mr. Moulton's farm, under some willow trees where wild grass grew. Every family came. They brought snow from the mountains, for making ice cream. Our first celebration there was July 4, 1911. We also celebrated the 24th of July there. Our music was from two phonographs with the same kind of records. Because the snow was too deep to visit the neighbors, they all decided to meet at the school house, every last Saturday of the month; with each family bringing food. The food was placed on long boards put on the desks. Everyone enjoyed this. In the afternoon there was dancing for the little ones (those little ones could dance too). Then at night the dance was for the adults. Many young people came from Almo, twelve miles away and also from Yost, Utah. One winter, to pass the time, we had a literary club. It was called The Emersonian. The young folks had story plays, sang songs and read jokes for all that were there. Almo post office was the nearest place to get mail. Several families got mail from the office at Yost, Utah. It was carried by pony express, A young man by the name of Willie Howe carried the mail to the Holtman ranch, it was about eight miles from the valley settlers. The mail was delivered Mondays and Fridays at the first post office. The mail had to be carried by volunteers for six months to see if there was enough mail to establish a post office. On November 10, 1910, Willis Moulton was appointed post master. The certificate was signed by the Post Master General, Mr. Frank Hitchcock. The gold seal contains a picture of a Pony Express Rider. The first mail carrier was Sam Ross. The next two were Lenord Howell and Monte Kirkpatrick. Mr. Chris Moellar took over the post office in 1914.

 

Personal Photograph: Great- Grandfathers scrapbook. Photographer: Unknown.

 

In this was photograph is planes of my great-grandfathers fighter group dropping bombs to the grounds below. Bombings during World War II were very Strategic especially when it came to the aircraft. Kenneth P. Werress said “the bomber will always get through.” Guilio Douhet, Hugh Trenchard, and William Mitchell were three guys who helped develop a revolutionary doctrine of strategic bombing. These guys came up with bombers going to cities with devastating attacks of bombs full of gas and high explosives. The only bad thing was that technology was not near as high tech as it is today and so when the bombardier's were dropping bombs during World War II they never knew exactly when to drop them. It was very rare that the bomb would hit and go off on the exact spot that they wanted it to due to poor technology.

Major General Haywood S. Hansell, Jr. wrote about the Strategic Purposes, Plans and Preparations for the Air Offensive against Japan. He quotes, “The attack of Pearl Harbor roused an apathetic American into a fury of resentment and produced a tidal wave of emotion that swept over the carefully reasoned plans which had been prepared to meet a war emergency.” Once this war began there were tons of angry Americans. But America could not just go in a just start attacking they had to be calm and make up plans and prepare for what was about to happen. With everyone’s emotions flying since the Pearl Harbor attack everyone had a mindset strategy of “Japan first”. Hansell says that everyone was so angry with the Japanese that no one cared about Hitler and his Nazis at the time because everyone just wanted to kill all the Japanese for what they had just done to America.

Strategies during war are one of the most important things. If everyone just went running in like crazy to attack then the war would go crazy which means a lot more people would die. With a strategy everyone knows their plan and what they are to go in and do. It gets the job done a lot faster and smoother. During World War II, Americans became in control of the air. In January, Americans dropped approximately 3,190 high-explosive bombs. The bombs were mainly around 500-pround bombs. Americans dominated pretty much the whole war with their fighter jets and dropping bombs down on the enemies below.

  

Kenneth P. Werress, __The Strategic Bombing of Germany in World War II__, The Journal of American History 73 (Dec. 1986) 702.

Haywood S. Hansell, "Strategic Air War Against Japan" , (U.S. Government Printing office, 1983): 9.

Jesoph E. Loftus, __Strategy, Economics, and the Bomb__, The Scientific Monthly 68 (May 1949) 311.

  

For more information go to: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strategic_bombing_during_World_War_II

Enoch Powell, a British Conservative politician, delivered an infamous speech

on this day, 20 April 1968, now known as the Rivers of Blood speech. He quite

openly discussed the rampant immigration of non-white people into the UK as

the end of white supremacy and the despoiling of white rule, a situation he likened

to the fear mongering in Virgil's Aeneid, line 6, 1.86, in which the Sibyl prophesies

'wars, terrible wars, and the Tiber foaming with much blood'.

 

Unfortunately, this speech overshadowed anything else he subsequently achieved

as a politician, a commendable writer of history or otherwise. It is still seen as a highly contentious speech, and often quoted by the far right political groups in the UK in order

to justify their demands for voluntary repatriation of all non-white peoples in this country, namely to rid the nation of all non-white presence.

 

[All photos collected from various websites in the public domain]

  

Hear and see Enoch Powell presenting his speech - 'The supreme function of statesmanship is to provide against preventable evils. In seeking to do so, it encounters obstacles which are deeply rooted in human nature. One is that by the very order of things such evils are not demonstrable until they have occurred: at each stage in their onset there is room for doubt and for dispute whether they be real or imaginary. By the same token, they attract little attention in comparison with current troubles, which are both indisputable and pressing: whence the besetting temptation of all politics to concern itself with the immediate present at the expense of the future. Above all, people are disposed to mistake predicting troubles for causing troubles and even for desiring troubles: 'If only, 'they love to think, 'if only people wouldn't talk about it, it probably wouldn't happen.'

 

Perhaps this habit goes back to the primitive belief that the word and the thing, the name and the object, are identical. At all events, the discussion of future grave but, with effort now, avoidable evils is the most unpopular and at the same time the most necessary occupation for the politician.

 

Those who knowingly shirk it deserve, and not infrequently receive, the curses of those who come after. A week or two ago I fell into conversation with a constituent, a middle-aged, quite ordinary working man employed in one of our nationalised industries. After a sentence or two about the weather, he suddenly said: 'If I had the money to go, I wouldn't stay in this country.' I made some deprecatory reply to the effect that even this government wouldn't last for ever; but he took no notice, and continued: 'I have three children, all of them been through grammar school and two of them married now, with family. I shan't be satisfied till I have seen them all settled overseas. In this country in 15 or 20 years' time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.'

 

I can already hear the chorus of execration. How dare I say such a horrible thing? How dare I stir up trouble and inflame feelings by repeating such a conversation? The answer is that I do not have the right not to do so. Here is a decent, ordinary fellow Englishman, who in broad daylight in my own town says to me, his Member of Parliament, that his country will not be worth living in for his children. I simply do not have the right to shrug my shoulders and think about something else. What he is saying, thousands and hundreds of thousands are saying and thinking - not throughout Great Britain, perhaps, but in the areas that are already undergoing the total transformation to which there is no parallel in a thousand years of English history. In 15 or 20 years, on present trends, there will be in this country three and a half million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants. That is not my figure. That is the official figure given to parliament by the spokesman of the Registrar General's Office. There is no comparable official figure for the year 2000, but it must be in the region of five to seven million, approximately one-tenth of the whole population, and approaching that of Greater London. Of course, it will not be evenly distributed from Margate to Aberystwyth and from Penzance to Aberdeen. Whole areas, towns and parts of towns across England will be occupied by sections of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population.

 

As time goes on, the proportion of this total who are immigrant descendants, those born in England, who arrived here by exactly the same route as the rest of us, will rapidly increase. Already by 1985 the native-born would constitute the majority. It is this fact which creates the extreme urgency of action now, of just that kind of action which is hardest for politicians to take, action where the difficulties lie in the present but the evils to be prevented or minimised lie several parliaments ahead.

 

The natural and rational first question with a nation confronted by such a prospect is to ask: 'How can its dimensions he reduced?' Granted it be not wholly preventable, can it be limited, bearing in mind that numbers are of the essence: the significance and consequences of an alien element introduced into a country or population are profoundly different according to whether that element is 1 per cent or 10 per cent. The answers to the simple and rational question are equally simple and rational: by stopping, or virtually stopping, further inflow, and by promoting the maximum outflow. Both answers are part of the official policy of the Conservative Party.

 

It almost passes belief that at this moment 20 or 30 additional immigrant children are arriving from overseas in Wolverhampton alone every week - and that means 15 or 20 additional families a decade or two hence. Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad. We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependants, who are for the most part the material of the future growth of the immigrant-descended population. It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiances whom they have never seen. Let no one suppose that the flow of dependants will automatically tail off. On the contrary, even at the present admission rate of only 5,000 a year by voucher, there is sufficient for a further 25,000 dependants per annum ad infinitum, without taking into account the huge reservoir of existing relations in this country – and I am making no allowance at all for fraudulent entry. In these circumstances nothing will suffice but that the total inflow for settlement should be reduced at once to negligible proportions, and that the necessary legislative and administrative measures be taken without delay.

 

I turn to re-emigration. If all immigration ended tomorrow, the rate of growth of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population would be substantially reduced, but the prospective size of this element in the population would still leave the basic character of the national danger unaffected. This can only be tackled while a considerable proportion of the total still comprises persons who entered this country during the last ten years or so. Hence the urgency of implementing now the second element of the Conservative Party's policy: the encouragement of re-emigration. Nobody can make an estimate of the numbers which, with generous assistance, would choose either to return to their countries of origin or to go to other countries anxious to receive the manpower and the skills they represent. Nobody knows, because no such policy has yet been attempted. I can only say that, even at present, immigrants in my own constituency from time to time come to me, asking if I can find them assistance to return home. If such a policy were adopted and pursued with the determination which the gravity of the alternative justifies, the resultant outflow could appreciably alter the prospects.

 

The third element of the Conservative Party's policy is that all who are in this country as citizens should be equal before the law and that there shall be no discrimination or difference made between them by public authority. As Mr Heath has put it we will have no first-class citizens and second-class citizens. This does not mean that the immigrant and his descendent should be elevated into a privileged or special class or that the citizen should be denied his right to discriminate in the management of his own affairs between one fellow-citizen and another or that he should be subjected to imposition as to his reasons and motive for behaving in one lawful manner rather than another.

 

There could be no grosser misconception of the realities than is entertained by those who vociferously demand legislation as they call it 'against discrimination', whether they be leader writers of the same kidney and sometimes on the same news papers which year after year in the 1930s tried to blind this country to the rising peril which confronted it, or archbishops who live in palaces, faring delicately with the bedclothes pulled right up over their heads. They have got it exactly and diametrically wrong. The discrimination and the deprivation, the sense of alarm and of resentment, lies not with the immigrant population but with those among whom they have come and are still coming. This is why to enact legislation of the kind before parliament at this moment is to risk throwing a match on to gunpowder. The kindest thing that can be said about those who propose and support it is that they know not what they do.

 

Nothing is more misleading than comparison between the Commonwealth immigrant in Britain and the American negro. The negro population of the United States, which was already in existence before the United States became a nation, started literally as slaves and were later given the franchise and other rights of citizenship, to the exercise of which they have only gradually and still incompletely come. The Commonwealth immigrant came to Britain as a full citizen, to a country which knew no discrimination between one citizen and another, and he entered instantly into the possession of the rights of every citizen, from the vote to free treatment under the National Health Service. Whatever drawbacks attended the immigrants arose not from the law or from public policy or from administration, but from those personal circumstances and accidents which cause, and always will cause, the fortunes and experience of one man to be different from another's.

 

But while, to the immigrant, entry to this country was admission to privileges and opportunities eagerly sought, the impact upon the existing population was very different. For reasons which they could not comprehend, and in pursuance of a decision by default, on which they were never consulted, they found themselves made strangers in their own country.

 

They found their wives unable to obtain hospital beds in childbirth, their children unable to obtain school places, their homes and neighbourhoods changed beyond recognition, their plans and prospects for the future defeated; at work they found that employers hesitated to apply to the immigrant worker the standards of discipline and competence required of the native-born worker; they began to hear, as time went by, more and more voices which told them that they were now the unwanted. They now learn that a one way privilege is to be established by act of parliament; a law which cannot, and is not intended to, operate to protect them or redress their grievances is to be enacted to give the stranger, the disgruntled and the agent-provocateur the power to pillory them for their private actions.

 

In the hundreds upon hundreds of letters I received when I last spoke on this subject two or three months ago, there was one striking feature which was largely new and which I find ominous. All Members of Parliament are used to the typical anonymous correspondent; but what surprised and alarmed me was the high proportion of ordinary, decent, sensible people, writing a rational and often well-educated letter, who believed that they had to omit their address because it was dangerous to have committed themselves to paper to a Member of Parliament agreeing with the views I had expressed, and that they would risk penalties or reprisals if they were known to have done so. The sense of being a persecuted minority which is growing among ordinary English people in the areas of the country which are affected is something that those without direct experience can hardly imagine. I am going to allow just one of those hundreds of people to speak for me:

 

'Eight years ago in a respectable street in Wolverhampton a house was sold to a negro. Now only one white (a woman old-age pensioner) lives there. This is her story. She lost her husband and both her sons in the war. So she turned her seven-roomed house, her only asset, into a boarding house. She worked hard and did well, paid off her mortgage and began to put something by for her old age. Then the immigrants moved in. With growing fear, she saw one house after another taken over. The quiet street became a place of noise and confusion Regretfully, her white tenants moved out.

 

The day after the last one left, she was awakened at 7am by two negroes who wanted to use her phone to contact their employer. When she refused, as she would have refused any stranger at such an hour, she was abused and feared she would have been attacked but for the chain on her door. Immigrant families have tried to rent rooms in her house, but she always refused. Her little store of money went, and after paying rates, she has less than 2 per week. She went to apply for a rate reduction and was seen by a young girl,.who on hearing she had a seven-roomed house, suggested she should let part of it. When she said the only people she could get were negroes, the girl said, 'Racial prejudice won't get you anywhere in this country.' So she went home.

 

'The telephone is her lifeline. Her family pay the bill, and help her out as best they can. Immigrants have offered to buy her house – at a price which the prospective landlord would be able to recover from his tenants in weeks, or at most a few months. She is becoming afraid to go out. Windows are broken. She finds excreta pushed through her letter box. When she goes to the shops, she is followed by children, charming, wide-grinning piccaninnies. They cannot speak English, but one word they know. 'Racialist', they chant. When the new Race Relations Bill is passed, this woman is convinced she will go to prison.' And is she so wrong? I begin to wonder.

 

The other dangerous delusion from which those who are wilfully or otherwise blind to realities suffer, is summed up in the word 'integration'. To be integrated into a population means to become for all practical purposes indistinguishable from its other members. Now, at all times, where there are marked physical differences, especially of colour, integration is difficult though, over a period, not impossible. There are among the Commonwealth immigrants who have come to live here in the last 15 years many thousands whose wish and purpose is to be integrated and whose every thought and endeavour is bent in that direction. But to imagine that such a thing enters the heads of a great and growing majority of immigrants and their descendants is a ludicrous misconception, and a dangerous one.

 

We are on the verge here of a change. Hitherto it has been force of circumstance and of background which has rendered the very idea of integration inaccessible to the greater part of the immigrant population - that they never conceived or intended such a thing, and that their numbers and physical concentration meant the pressures towards integration which normally bear upon any small minority did not operate. Now we are seeing the growth of positive forces acting against integration, of vested interests in the preservation and sharpening of racial and religious differences, with a view to the exercise of actual domination, first over fellow-immigrants and then over the rest of the population. The cloud no bigger than a man's hand, that can so rapidly overcast the sky, has been visible recently in Wolverhampton and has shown signs of spreading quickly. The words I am about to use, verbatim as they appeared in the local press on 17 February, are not mine, but those of a Labour Member of Parliament who is a minister in the present government The Sikh communities' campaign to maintain customs inappropriate in Britain is much to be regretted. Working in Britain, particularly in the public services, they should be prepared to accept the terms and conditions of their employment. To claim special communal rights (or should they say rites?) leads to a dangerous fragmentation within society. This communalism is a canker; whether practised by one colour or another it is to be strongly condemned.' All credit to John Stonehouse for having had the insight to perceive that, and the courage to say it.

 

For these dangerous and divisive elements the legislation proposed in the Race Relations Bill is the very pabulum they need to flourish. Here is the means of showing that the immigrator communities can organise to consolidate their members, to agitate and campaign against their fellow citizens, and to overawe and dominate the rest with the legal weapons which the ignorant and the ill-informed have provided. As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see '... the River Tiber foaming with much blood'. That tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic but which there is interwoven with the history and existence of the States itself, is coming upon us here by our own volition and our own neglect. Indeed, it has all but come. In numerical terms, it will be of American proportions long before the end of the century. Only resolute and urgent action will avert it even now. Whether there will be the public will to demand and obtain that action, I do not know. All I know is that to see, and not to speak, would be the great betrayal.

 

[Photo and text of speech courtesy: The Sterling Times]

  

www.instagram.com/alicefreakunique/p/C_UoPuzRk0d/

 

www.instagram.com/p/DOAfjPojoFn/?igsh=YTFna2FvY2RqaHdu

 

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Feliz Cumpleaños SexySupremeSexy Magnificent MakesSense RobertTRUJILLO ONLYFRIEND JessicaTrujillo WON 10.23.64 ONLYFRIEND 2.17.79 WON 🏆

 

Welcome, won't you come inside?

Meet the ghost where I reside

Despite how they're abusing me

Lonely, I will never be

Comfort in the hell I know

Resentment like a cancer grows

Longing for the day I'm free

Burn to get you out of me

Lyin', supplyin' the need

Shedding and spreading the seed

Setting the trap with a thread

Spinning the web

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh-oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Oh-oh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

Ricochets within my head

Conversations never said

Magnifyin' every thought

That familiar pain she brought

Seeps inside eventually

Misery loves company

Sullen, I created you

I suppose that I can end you too

She waits (she waits, she waits, she waits)

She waits (she waits, she waits, she waits)

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh-oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Ooh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

Oh, no

Ooh, misery

She needs me, but I need her more

She loves me, but I love her more

She kills me (she kills me), but I end this war

She fills me (she fills me), but she's not what I'm livin' for

Oh, no, oh, no

No, no, no, no, no, no

Not why I'm living

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Oh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

She's not why I'm livin'

(Misery) she's not why I'm livin' for (my misery)

No, no

Thank you, goodnight

That was the best one

That button was the best one

The best button

 

Welcome, won't you come inside?

Meet the ghost where I reside

Despite how they're abusing me

Lonely, I will never be

Comfort in the hell I know

Resentment like a cancer grows

Longing for the day I'm free

Burn to get you out of me

Lyin', supplyin' the need

Shedding and spreading the seed

Setting the trap with a thread

Spinning the web

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh-oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Oh-oh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

Ricochets within my head

Conversations never said

Magnifyin' every thought

That familiar pain she brought

Seeps inside eventually

Misery loves company

Sullen, I created you

I suppose that I can end you too

She waits (she waits, she waits, she waits)

She waits (she waits, she waits, she waits)

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh-oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Ooh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

Oh, no

Ooh, misery

She needs me, but I need her more

She loves me, but I love her more

She kills me (she kills me), but I end this war

She fills me (she fills me), but she's not what I'm livin' for

Oh, no, oh, no

No, no, no, no, no, no

Not why I'm living

Misery, she needs me

Oh-oh, but I need her more

Misery, she loves me

Oh, but I love her more

Misery, she kills me

Oh, but I end this war

Misery, she fills me

Oh, no, but she's not what I'm livin' for

She's not why I'm livin'

(Misery) she's not why I'm livin' for (my misery)

No, no

Thank you, goodnight

That was the best one

That button was the best one

The best button

 

There's an ice cream party in my house

An ice cream party in my house

Please come over

There's an ice cream party in my house

An ice cream party in my house

Please come over

There's no end to the ways

That we can play and play and play

So please come over

There's an end to the day

And it ends much differently this time, come over

There's an ice cream party in my house

An ice cream party in my house

Please come over

Well, my father doesn't ring the bell no more

It's alright, would you please come over?

Sure, you've heard that him and mom are separated

And he's gone, he won't be around

Oh, an ice cream party in my house

An ice cream party in my house

Please come over

I promise I won't tell any other kids that you did

But please, please come over

An ice cream party at my house

We can play until we're sacked out

Please come over

There's an ice cream party in my house

An ice cream party in my house

Please come over

Oh, there's an ice cream party in my house (pretty, pretty please)

An ice cream party in my house (pretty, pretty please)

Please come over (please come over)

Oh, an ice cream party in my house (pretty, pretty please)

An ice cream party in my house (pretty, pretty please)

Please come over (please come over)

There's an ice cream party in my house, please come over

 

Try to get inside my head

All the windows are painted shut

Take your horse to my water to drink

I'm not the gift that you think

Cross my name off the devil's to-do list

Burn every page in that little black book

And we're praying it remains in the mouth of God

You've got cracks in your magic

Blood on your hands

Cracks in your magic

Blood on your hands

I'm the one

The one that you left behind

Wish I knew you

Knew you when you were alive

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

Cross my name off the devil's to-do list

Burn every page in that little black book

And we're praying it remains in the mouth of God

You've got cracks in your magic

Blood on your hands

Cracks in your magic

Blood on your hands

I'm the one

The one that you left behind

Wish I knew you

Knew you when you were alive

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'm the one

The one that you left behind

Wish I knew you

Knew you when you were alive

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

It's not a costume

It's not how I wanted to die

I'll break your sunshine

I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away

I'll break your sunshine

I'll break your sunshine (to scare my shadow away)

✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️www.tmz.com/2024/03/14/carlos-alcaraz-attacked-bees-tenni...

 

⭐BlindMelonJA9⭐PeepingTom⭐ ValleyOfTheDollsJA9⭐SandManPINKJA9⭐✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ 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✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️🍌🍌🍌🍌🍌She didn't do these things because she is crazy. She is crazy because she did these things. - Ayn Rand 🌎🌎🌎🌎🌎✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️So the fire is almost out and there's nothing left to burn

I've run right out of thoughts and I've run right out of words

As I used them up, I used them up

Yeah the fire is almost cold and there's nothing left to burn

I've run right out of feeling and I've run right out of world

And everything I promised, and everything I tried

Yeah everything I ever did I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

But the fire is almost out is almost out

And there's nothing left to burn

No there's nothing left to burn

Not even this

And the fire is almost dead and there's nothing left to burn

I've finished everything

And all the things I promised, and all the things I tried

Yeah all the things I ever dreamed I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

I used to feed the fire

But the fire is almost out

Half my life I've been here

Half my life in flames

Using all I ever had to keep the fire ablaze

To keep the fire ablaze

To keep the fire ablaze

To keep the fire ablaze

But there's nothing left to burn

No there's nothing left to burn

And the fire is almost out

There fire is almost out

Almost out, almost out

Almost out, almost out

And there's nothing left to burn✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ getyarn.io/yarn-clip/6fa0eb59-c2fb-440c-b49f-ba73be433c44 ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️Who is Richard Brake ❓

Heidi Hawthorne

 

Cocaine Heidi Richard

COW Hawthorne Brake

Girl Otis Ed ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ NO.

 

I won't, ever, forget how much I HATE DESPISE Gabe Parr.

 

Why not❓

My one chance to take care of my baby, my little dog, my Arnie Grape, in the way I want to take care of my child, and some UGLY SHITCUNTFACE CHILD MOLESTING DOG RAPING RETARDED SEXYVEGAN SPRINGBRIDE FIRECROTCH HOMEWRECKER MRSKRABAPEL BUFFOON won't even let me do that.

 

No no no.

No mercy for Gabe Parr.

There is no one in the world who I hate more than Gabe Parr. There is no one I want hacked apart and buried deep in space, more than Gabe Parr. - NASA✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️

If I could rewrite the film, and replace the word Capiche, with the words 🌷TheDieIsCast🌷 then no matter what everyone knows I do not give a shit about Gabe Parr, and that means I am not the date rapist, even if my name is Dave Brown.

 

Defacto proven everyone knows Gabe Parr is the world's worst date rapist. - Margo Timmins, 🌷TheDieIsCast🌷

✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️ ✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️✡️

I saw her walking down the street

He jumped down, he knocked her off her feet, uhh

And then I knew it was the end of her

(Yea yea yea)

He's gonna kill that girl

He's gonna kill that girl

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

When I saw her walking down the street

My heart stood still and skipped a beat

Then he knocked her on the floor

But he wanted a little bit more

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

When I saw her walking down the street

My heart stood still and skipped a beat

Then he knocked her on the floor

But he wanted a little bit more

I saw her lying on the street

He jumped down he knocked her off her feet

And then I knew it was the end of her

(Yea yea yea)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl

(Hey)

He's gonna kill that girl tonight

When I saw her walking down the street

My heart stood still and skipped a beat

Then he knocked her on the floor

But he wanted a little bit more

 

Cocaine Weezer

COW LaBamba

Girl AALIYAH

  

We have one chance.

One chance to get everything right.

We have one chance, one chance.

And if we're lucky we might.

My friends, my habits, my family,

They mean so much to me.

I just don't think that it's right.

I've seen so many ships sail in,

Just to head back out again and go off sinking.

I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box in a cage.

Didn't mean to laugh, didn't know I had.

Didn't know the better part of what you said

'cause in your head you are not home.

Didn't get the joke. Didn't mean to poke another,

Just to save myself

From some something something or another one.

Well walk home.

I'm just a box in a cage. I'm just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box, just a box in a cage.

I'm just a box in a cage.

We have one chance,

One chance to get everything right.

My friends, my habits, my family,

They mean so much to me.

I just don't think that it's right.

I've seen so many ships sail in,

Just to head back out again and go off sinking.

⭐HowardRoarkOFFICIAL⭐

www.instagram.com/p/DB99AAGsb5N/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_l...

Courtney Chai is the first copycat. So, every criminal better than Courtney Chai is gone gone gone ALLWAYS. This is not news TheDieIsCast Fiddler On the Roof NeverFuckASpiderOnTheFLY WhatABoutCanada LemonTreesOnMercury Twiggy Ramirez and Marilyn Manson LOVEETERNAL. Daddy'sGIRLRichPURE

 

The death of Michael McNamera means the original of every criminal, ever, ALLWAYS is gone gone gone gone ALLWAYS, and only the copycat or the reflection remains.

www.instagram.com/p/DD5aHnIB5X8/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_l...

📬AynRandONLYApexSPECIALAPEXSubPop📬

With the fire from the fireworks up above me

With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain at hand

You run for cover in the temple of love

You run for another but still the same

For the wind will blow my name across this land

In the temple of love you hide together

Believing pain and fear outside

But someone near you rides the weather

And the tears he cried will rain on walls

As wide as lovers eyes

In the temple of love: Shine like thunder

In the temple of love: Cry like rain

In the temple of love: Hear my calling

In the temple of love: Hear my name

And the devil in black dress watches over

My guardian angel walks away

Life is short and love is always over in the morning

Black wind come carry me far away

With the sunlight died and night above me

With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside

You run for cover in the temple of love

You run for another it's all the same

For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside

With the fire from the fireworks up above

With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain

You run for cover in the temple of love

I shine like thunder cry like rain

And the temple grows old and strong

But the wind blows longer cold and long

And the temple of love will fall before

This black wind calls my name to you no more

In the black sky thunder sweeping

Underground and over water

Sounds of crying weeping will not save

Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar

All your prayers must seem as nothing

Ninety-six below the wave

When stone is dust and only air remains

In the temple of love: Shine like thunder

In the temple of love: Cry like rain

In the temple of love: Hear the calling

And the temple of love is falling

Down

In the temple of love: Shine like thunder

In the temple of love: Cry like rain

In the temple of love: Hear my calling

In the temple of love: Hear my name

In the black sky thunder sweeping

Underground and over water

Sounds of crying weeping will not save

Your faith for bricks and dreams for mortar

All your prayers must seem as nothing

Ninety-six below the wave

When stone is dust and only air remains

the only haven you can trust

And the devil in black dress watches over

My guardian angel walks away

Life is short and love is always over in the morning

Black wind come carry me far away

With the fire from the fireworks up above

With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain you

You run for cover in the temple of love

I shine like thunder cry like rain

And the temple grows old and strong

But the wind blows longer cold and long

And the temple of love will fall before

This black wind calls my name to you no more

In the temple of love you hide together

Believing pain and fear outside

But someone near you rides the weather

And the tears he cried will rain on walls

As wide as lovers eyes

In the temple of love: Shine like thunder

In the temple of love: Cry like rain

In the temple of love: Hear my calling

And the temple of love is falling

Down

 

Cocaine LAPDWON

COW Travis Barker

Girl DonaldJTrump 🐸🐸🐸AmericanPsychotic AmericanLunatic CIA ScarecrowArt 🍆🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🍳🍳🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝♟🥑🥑🥑🎯♟♟♟♟♟♟♟🐸🐸🐸🐸🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🐸🐸🍒🍒🌏🌏🌏🌏🍆🍆🥑🥑🎂🎂️🌈🍝🍝🐸🐸🐸🎱🎱🎱🍟🍟🎱🍒🍒♟🌏⚾️⚾️📦📦📦🇨🇭🇨🇭😭😭🔑🍟🍟🍟🎯🎱🎱🥑🥑🥑🍒🍒🍒🍒🔑MarilynManson♟♟♟♟♟♟♟️🌈️🌈️🌈🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍝🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆♟♟🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆♟♟♟♟♟♟🍆🍆🍝🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🐸🐸🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂️🌈️🌈️🌈🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂🎂

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Kevin Smith is ONE at 59 years old

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My little girl

Won't you shed your skin

Little goddess

Why don't you slither in

It's a bold new world

Exploring sin

It's a bold new thrill

Why don't you come on in

Seductive snakegirl

Why don't you shed your skin

Seductive snakegoddess

Let the crawling begin

Crawl inside your skin

My little snake

c'mon shed your skin

Shiny cobra

Won't you crawl on in

Seductive snakegirl

Why don't you shed your skin

Seductive snakegoddess

Let the crawling begin

Crawl inside your skin

 

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💭TheFruitThatAteItself000⭐

 

Alice pressed against the wall

So she can see the door

In case the laughing strangers crawl and

Crush the petals on the floor

Alice in her party dress

She thanks you kindly

So serene

She needs you like she needs her tranqs

To tell her that the world is clean

To promise her a definition

Tell her where the rain will fall

Tell her where the sun shines bright

And tell her she can have it all

Today

Pass the crystal spread the Tarot

In illusion comfort lies

The safest way the straight and narrow

No confusion no surprise

Alice in her party dressed to kill

She the thanks you turns away

She needs you like she needs her pills

To tell her that the world's okay

To promise her a definition

Tell her where the rain will fall

Tell her where the sun shines bright

And tell her she can have it all

Today

Today

Alice

Don't give it away

 

Some people get by with a little understanding

Some people get by with a whole lot more

I don't know, why you gotta be so undemanding

One thing I know, I want more, I want more

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

D'you get scared to feel so much?

To let somebody touch you?

So hot, so cold, so far so out of control

Hard to come by, and harder to hold

Some people get by with a little understanding

Some people get by with a whole lot more

I don't know, why you gotta be so undemanding

I want more

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

There are parts of me that don't get nervous

Not the parts that shake

You won't get what you deserve

You are what you take

Learning to cry for fun and profit

I'm not done yet

Counterfeit dollars or the English Zloty

Anything I can get

Some people get by with a little understanding

Some people get by with a whole lot more

I don't know, why you gotta be so undemanding

One thing I know, I want more

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

And I need all the love I can get

And I need all the love that I can't get too

Can't get to

And I need all the love

That you can guess?

💭PUMPUPTheED💭

 

www.instagram.com/reel/BcSl26kDxR5/

2006 FiddlerOnTheRoof

 

www.instagram.com/p/BcRoZEfjAl4/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

⭐IceCreamDreamHillelSlovak⭐

 

Last October, Marilyn Manson split with longtime bassist Jeordie White — otherwise known as Twiggy Ramirez — after White’s ex-girlfriend, former Jack Off Jill front-woman Jessicka Addams, came forward with allegations of rape and sexual assault. (White subsequently issued a public apology, stating he does not "condone non-consensual sex of any kind.") Manson commented on the situation in a recent interview with Kerrang!, revealing that White's dismissal might have been a long time coming, as Ultimate Guitar points out.

 

“I did not divorce Twiggy as a friend or brother, because I still care about him greatly," Manson began, “but I can't say that my musical relationship with Twiggy has been good for several years.” He added, “My relationship with [musical collaborator] Tyler Bates on The Pale Emperor [Manson’s 2015 album] made something open up in me and I didn't want to let negative energy back in my life.”

⭐DaleGribbleBobafett80⭐

 

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Dinah MEOWS alot, and I love his meowing. I just heard him say, I LOVE YOU, NIKKI.

 

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Defacto Proven everyone knows MarilynManson does this video to a T.

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FreeWIRE

 

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🌌HappyChaunuakaTommy🌌

 

The air is whizzing by, the spider watched us fly

And at best you could say you were obliged

Well, we sing the spider's song, and the words are too too long

And it scared me just to say I'll carry on, the carrion

It takes a lot of pay-no-mind with your cellular gadgets on

Oh, our lives don't seem to float

You think you know, you just don't know

Why you should never fuck a spider on the fly

Well, if you fuck a spider on the fly

You're gonna gonna gonna get the news

Yeah, there's a lot of webs

Sure, there's enough for you

The last thing I should say won't be spoken anyways

And that's why I got to move

Well, there's a lotta things I shoulda done

I shoulda oughta probably oughta do

So you should never fuck a spider on the fly

If you do you're gonna find out soon

There's still some web for you

Whatcha gonna do

It doesn't matter what they don't know

They really really want you to know

So they'll tap tap tap, no matter where you go, oh

Peeping Tom's at every window

Dangling a leash for your throat

Peeping and tapping, looking into every single window, oh

Oh, I don't care for politics and it doesn't care for me

I don't like being watched by the TV

Well, there's a lot of news, a lot of news

A lot of news, a lot of news

And it all works as a web for you

Well, you should never fuck a spider on the fly

If you really really want to move

'Cause we're all food

And there's the web for you

Well, if you fuck a spider on the fly

You're gonna gonna gonna get the news

There's a lot of webs

Yeah, there's a web for you

Peeping Tom's at every window

Dangling a leash for your throat

Peeping and smudging, looking into every window

It doesn't matter what they don't know

They really really want you to know

So they'll tap tap tap tap tap, on every window, oh

They zoom in, you can't zoom out

Oh, your head's my house now

I live in every corner of your mind, I ain't coming out

I have a lot to do

To become you

Well, I ain't taking orders but they're still givin' them out

Oh, I'm lost over international waters in the cloud

Where I got got got got got got got some news

Well, you should never fuck a spider on the fly

If you really really want to move

There's a lot of webs

And there's enough for you

Well, if you fuck a spider on the fly

You're gonna gonna gonna get the news

There's a lot of webs

Yeah, there's a web for you

 

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ThisIsIntentional ThisIsNotNews TheDieIsCast Fiddler On The Roof TheDOPEShow SharpenYourTeeth ONCE ALLWAYS ETERNAL EVER ONLY POSSIBLE CORRECT FRIEND MalibuJew BirdsOfParadiseDATURA BirdsOfOregon Charlotte's WEB DontBullyMyFRIENDMIKIMACIAS SergeLutens BlackSatan9 AngelinaJoliePitt JesseTuck SnoopDOGG DAZZ

 

Gretel said, "I know what's in your head"

I vacuumed out my head

I know you're feeling bad

You fucking bitch

You cunthole bitch

I thought she meant it, yeah

She really jacked my head

She went and done it

Handsome, Gretel

 

My name is Gretel, yeah

I've got a crotch that talks

It talks to all their cocks

It's been twelve city blocks, you fucking bich

Gretel said "Oh you feel so bad

I know you feel so bad"

I thought she meant it, yeah

Handsome, Gretel

 

I vacuumed out my head

Jumping from bed to bed

My name is Gretel

A soul of metal

My name is Gretel yeah

I've got a sloppy slot

Handsome, Gretel

 

Say, violets hang around with toilets

Talking smack at us

And symbolize everything that

Is disgust and mistrust

Licorice eyes

Pin me down

Thighs

 

Asphyxia

My thighs are vices yeah

He is a stupid man

I love him all I can

You fucking bitch

Addle girl

She pulls out all her curls

She is a stupid crotch

That's been twelve city blocks

 

🌌TheBRAVELittleToaster000🌌

www.instagram.com/reel/C9yL5bmqgbM/?hl=en

 

You were laying on the carpet like you're satin in a coffin

You said, "Do you believe what you're sayin'?"

Yeah, right now, but not that often

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

God, I sure hope you are dead

Well, you disappeared so often like you dissolved into coffee

Are you here right now, or are there probably fossils under your meat?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

Are you dead or are you sleepin'?

God, I sure hope you are dead

Now the blow's been softened since the air we breathe is our coffin

Well, now the blow's been s

Ace paperback, 1963

 

comments by CR:

The Andre Norton novel "Star Gate" first published in 1958, in an intricately crafted science-fiction story employing the theme of alternative history.

 

The plot of this story concerns an interstellar expedition to an inhabited world and the unintended harmful consequence that result. The planet Gorth is primary agrarian ruled by hereditary clans. Various city-states with a technological level akin to England in the middle ages joust for supremacy. Over the course of generations the "Star Lords" interbreed with the native human stock producing mix breed offspring who acquire some knowledge of the superior technology of the Star Lords. Native fears, resentment and anger cause the majority of the Star Lords to eventually leave Gorth in their starships. A small remnant of Star Lord remain but despairing they can erases the negative consequences of their presence decide to escape to an alternate Gorth in a "Star Gate" accompanied by several of their mixed breed children. The bulk of the novel concerns the attempt by the gate travelers to rectify an appalling political situations found on the "new" Gorth.

 

Ms. Norton elaborates upon the concept that propels this story in her introduction to the novel. I will summarize her scheme using selected quotes from her Prologue: "History is not a collection of facts; it is a spiders web of ifs. If the American colonies had lost the Revolution, if the South and not the North had won the Civil War...the procession of such ifs is endless, exciting the imagination and spurring infinite speculation. There is a fascinating theory that two worlds branch from every bit of destiny action. Hence there are far reaching bands of parallel worlds born of many historical choices. Thus if some means of communication could be devised a man might travel not backwards or forward in time but across it to visit, for example, a world were England rules the entire North American continent." The "means of communication" her star traveling adventures employs is a "Star Gate" mechanism, a featured element of the book by the same title.

 

One theme that plays a critical role throughout this book is religion. Both the Star Lords and the Gorths have a similar belief system. How this can be is never explained but like many of Norton's novels there is usually a sequel where all is made somewhat clearer. Unfortunately in this case there was no follow up novel.

 

This is an exceptional story and a fine example of Ms. Norton's admirable writing ability and plotting.

The following poem was written by Jamele Adams, dean of diversity at Brandeis University. Adams was teaching at Montclair State University in Montclair, New Jersey, on the morning of 9/11. When the planes hit the twin towers, Adams and his class watched the horror unfold through the panoramic window of their classroom. This poem, written just an hour-and-a-half before being read on September 11, 2006, marks the first time Adams has written about what he saw that day.

 

Tour of Duty

Millions of ways for the human sky to cry

We commit to memory

Memories of surviving souls of manifest destiny.

Broken hearts receiving plastic surgery

Memorials masterminded for monetary subsidiaries.

Skylines broken for eternity

Twin towers absent

Like bodies from trees lynched during slavery.

There are 93 united reasons that can testify

1,825 days later and no liquid carry-ons

Gone are the days of the "friendly skies"

 

Feeling more like "friendly fire"

9 millimeters and Mac 11's

9 centimeters and 11 bodies leaven

9 doves awaiting 11 Angels in heaven

Call 911 for help

And few spoke of the she-roes who responded on September 11

Thus we cinematize the lives memorialized

And lock them in a Nicholas Cage of the World Trade

 

How long does it take to say we miss you?

How many captured terrorists does it take to confuse you?

Who are we to hold God accountable?

At best we are compound fractions.

Halves of a whole human spirit.

Listen to your vision

Bald Eagles needing to learn love

We need Generals who move armies like March of the Penguins

 

Too much Tsun Zu & not enough Dali Lama

The vengeance of war is the respect of hate

We digest weapons with no love on our plates

Central Intelligence describes what we ate

Suffering from upset stomachs

Mortal Combat we regurgitate

The absence of love leaves room for improvement.

There are 2,792 breezes of angel's breath

Stronger than volcanic ash landing on your neck

Doves with human hands for wings flying stealth

Gripping warheads and giving them to cupid for wealth

The square root of war is love enraged

Love without resentment

  

(Reversing Vandalism tells us)

There are 24 definitions for love

And 2 for hate

We best commemorate lives lost on 9-1-1

By speaking in tongues native to the sun

Pouring out ghetto glitter into the cornmeal of Masons

Hate not

-to love

Love until you hate not loving.

Love beyond forgiving Osama

Love beyond FEMA & hurricane Katrina

Love beyond any Tsunami

Love beyond the Presidency

Love beyond New York City

Love unconditionally

Love beyond war

Love through your anger

Love each tear you drop,

-catch them in a cup and serve it to your enemies and make up.

"Be the change you want to see"-Ghandi

Nothing will ever be the same;

Nothing has love lived like this in history.

Be a united humanity before a united country

 

Jamy publishing © 2006. Harlym125@hotmail.com

There were some outdoor cooking items placed in front of this house in the original image so I carefully edited them out without changing any detail of the house. The sidewalk extended to the street but I took the artistic license to try to focus on the subject of the photo, the historic home. Please click on image for an enlarged, more detailed version. This Queen Anne style cottage resembles a design from plan book competitor architect, George F. Barber out of Knoxville, TN. Barber in the 1890's managed a large firm. and published many plan books. By coincidence, he was also originally from Illinois and started his career in DeKalb, IL. Local architect George W. Payne apparently somewhat copied or perhaps better, "borrowed" from Barber's designs and not just in this one example. If any resentment existed between the rivals, history has left no record of it.

Piccadilly North Side (seen from the bus)

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boris_Johnson

 

One way to lose friends is to say something which is not fashionable about somebody like Boris Johnson: it is so much easier not to think for oneself and to regurgitate what the tabloids say. I noticed it the other day at a drinks party in south London (yes I do have friends south of the river!):

it struck me as plain lazy if not outright silly to repeat like a parrot headlines splashed on the news stand billboards... and caused me not to think much of the person whom I considered until then moderately intelligent before he gave 'his' opinion...

Why not see for myself, judge for myself, rather than recycle cliches?

Boris Johnson's kind of books , although inexpensively sold in paperback (some even in HW Smith at Victoria station - a bad omen) I would not normally read - it is not my thing! However, out of curiosity I decided to order several at my local bookshop (whose native salesmen do not even know how to spell such authors as Glendinning or Ondaatje...):when I put in the order I was looked at with a mixture of incredulity, amusement, suspicion and superiority by the young temp - thankfully I was not going to face him for much longer - these people do not stick for long in such places)...

Back to the story of my Saturday "drinks spotty" (sic) what my friend reproached Boris, among others, was that he appeared to be dressed casually at the Beijing Olympics ceremony, compared with the Chinese official who gave him the flag... I asked myself, where have I seen a British politician doing the same before? was it perhaps at the Cenotaph , the died-in-the wool "old Labour" Michael Foot?

Oh, but you see, Foot had plenty of excuses which would not apply to Boris in a society redolent with the resentment of class war typical of the best Stalinist practices, a society stuck in the mould of political correctness and global lukewarming.

 

Back to Johnson's books I finished his biography which i found amusing and informative giving a more rounded view of Boris and making him more humane than he otherwise appears, spontaneous, refreshing, cultivated, intelligent, predictable in his unpredictability....

"Cultivated" you say? but this is a cardinal sin which is looked at with greatest suspicion! Come on, who wants to be cultivated?

The other books I decided to read at intervals, a short story at a time and more of it later, For now all I can say from an incomplete trawl is that i would strongly recommend that you make up your own mind (unless it is too arduous or painful) and read for yourself.

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boris_Johnson

The Liberation Monument ("Russian monument")

(Further pictures you can see by clicking on the link at the end of page!)

Officially, one can find various names: (Russian) Liberation Monument, Russian War Memorial and Monument of the Red Army. The Viennese call the towering monument at the southern end of the Black Mountain Square (Schwarzenbergplatz) usually disparaging "Russian monument (Russendenkmal)".

The monument commemorating the 18,000 in the liberation of Vienna fallen soldiers of the Red Army was designed by Major Intazarin, the sculptures were created by Lieutenant Jakoviev. The overall direction of the yet in April 1945 ordered and as first monument building after the war completed structure had major Ing. Mikhail Scheinfeld. In the construction were temporarily 400 workers involved, 18 tons of bronze and 300 cubic meters of marble were used. The monument was on 19 August 1945 with the assistance of Karl Renner, Leopold Figl and Theodor Körner unveiled on then so designated Stalin Square.

On a in total 20 m high, marble-clad base, the lower part in the form of a five-pointed red star, decorated with flags and guard badges, stands the 12 m tall figure of a Red Army soldier. The soldier is wearing a gold helmet and the famous Russian submachine gun with rotary magazine. With his left hand he has the flag with the right hand he holds a round shield with the Soviet coat of arms. In the background arises a broad, eight meter high balustrade, at its end respectively one group of two fighting men is situated, a prime example of the style of socialist realism, which gradually has become an art-historical rarity.

One of the inscriptions in Russian only in the early 80s have been translated into German and is:

"Eternal glory to the heroes of the Red Army, killed in action against the German-fascist invaders for the freedom and independence of the peoples of Europe (Mikhalkov)".

Until 1956, there were also graves of Soviet soldiers in the area, and a Soviet tank stood before the monument.

The monument is in the custody of the City of Vienna. As is generally known, Austria is according to the detailed provisions of Article 19 of the State Treaty of 15 May 1955 committed war graves and war memorials of the Allied Powers on Austrian soil "to respect, to protect and to preserve".

Between 1945 and 1956 stood in front of the fountain on the former "Stalin Square" a Russian tank, which is now in the Museum of Military History.

=> Marschik/Spital, Vienna The Russians monument, architecture, history, conflicts, Vienna, 2005

=> Hannes Leidinger/Verena Moritz, Russian Vienna, Böhlau, Vienna, 2004, 182 f

Sometimes leads the memory to the bad experiences which have been made by Austrian people with the occupation forces - particularly the Soviet - ​​in the ten years of Allied occupation to open resentment against monuments such as the "Russian monument". Nevertheless - the greater the distance from the war and post-war period is, the more one had to give account about the fact how much innocent blood just the peoples of the former Soviet Union have sacrificed in the fight against Hitler's rule, and how little the Austrian people to its own liberation has contributed. Such thoughts have got to come to one's mind when one takes some time to decipher the Cyrillic letters of gold on a "Russian monument" - whether on that at Vienna Schwarzenberg Square or somewhere out in the vast realms of Lower Austria, where up to the Waldviertel (part of Lower Austria) little Soviet military cemeteries exist.

A survey by the Gallup Institute, published in the "standard" on 11th February 1992 shows that 71% of Viennes people do know the monument. A clear majority (59 %) is for the preservation of the monument. Only 9% of the 1,000 respondents agreed with the opinion that the monument should be eliminated as a remnant of Stalinism. So, have the Austrians made peace with the contemporary history?

Hochstrahlbrunnen

Before the liberation monument arises the to the occasion of the completion of the First Vienna Mountain Spring Pipeline on 24th October 1873 in the presence of the emperor put into operation Hochstrahlbrunnen (high jet fountain), which should have been standing according to the original plans in front of the Votive Church, then opposite the New Town Hall. The builder of the aqueduct and the fountain, Anton Gabrielli, was a friend of astronomy. Accordingly, symbolizes the respective number of the jets of water the days of the year, the months, the days of the month, the days of the week and the hours of the day.

peter-diem.at/Monumente/russen.htm

Rocinha slum - favela - , Río de Janeiro, Brazil. An agency arranges tours of the favelas and spends part of the gains is on charity in the favelas, mostly on building schools. This means that you're actually welcome - even though some of the young men, reasonably enough, showed signs of resentment.

Now that perfect equality has been achieved, protests are obsolete. Nevertheless, a single protester bares her chest, perhaps in remembrance of the injustices of the past.

 

All of that resentment must be buried along with the Alt-right. Let us enjoy utopia together.

"If we're only ever looking back

We will drive ourselves insane

As the friendship goes resentment grows

We will walk our different ways" Bastille

 

I feel old...

In the US, the number of caregivers of family and others aged 50 and over increased by 7.6 million from 2015 to 2020, reaching a staggering 41.8 million

 

Looking after aging parents is a significant challenge for many sibling groups — and it’s a challenge that more and more people are facing. In the US, the number of family caregivers has increased dramatically in recent years, and today, around 17 percent of Americans are caring for an aging parent or other individual.

 

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Read more in Knowable Magazine

 

When siblings become caregivers

Collaboration is vital when caring for an aging parent. Yet there are many stumbling blocks to good teamwork, from unequal division of tasks and differing perceptions of a parent’s needs to old, lingering resentments.

knowablemagazine.org/article/mind/2022/when-siblings-beco...

 

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Latvian riflemen (strelnieki) were military formations assembled starting 1915 in Latvia in order to defend Baltic territories against Germans in World War I. Initially the batallions were formed by volunteers, from 1916 by conscription among Latvian population. A total of about 40 thousand troops were drafted into the Latvian Riflemen Division.

 

From 1915 to 1917, Latvian Riflemen fought in the Russian army against the Germans in positions along Daugava river. In December 1916 and January 1917, Latvian riflemen suffered heavy casualties in month-long Christmas battles which began with a surprise attack on German positions during Christmas. Suffering heavy casualties, Latvian riflemen managed to break German line of defense but the effort was wasted as the attack was not continued. The Russian Army lost over 26,000 soldiers in the failed attack. The casualties included 9,000 Latvian riflemen, about a third of the total number at that time. The heavy casualties resulted in a strong resentment for the Russian generals and tsar among the riflemen. This resentment led to an increased support for the Bolsheviks, who were advocating an end to the war.

 

In 1917, a large number of Latvian riflemen sided with the Bolsheviks. They became known as Red Latvian Riflemen (красные латышские стрелки) and actively participated in the Russian civil war. The riflemen took active part in suppression of anti-Bolshevik uprisings in Moscow and Yaroslavl in 1918. They fought against Denikin, Yudenich, and Wrangel. In 1919 the division received the highest military recognition of that time — the Honorable Red Flag of VTsIK. Latvian Red Riflemen officer Jukums Vācietis became the first commander-in-chief of the Red Army. Latvian red riflemen were also a part of the attempt to establish Soviet rule in Latvia in 1919. They were defeated by Baltic German volunteers in Western Latvia and then by the Polish and new Latvian army in Eastern Latvia.

 

11,395 former Red Riflemen returned to Latvia after the 1920 peace treaty between Latvia and Bolshevist Russia. Other former riflemen stayed in Russia and took positions in the Red Army, Bolshevik party, Cheka. Many of them were arrested or executed during the Great Purges, when ethnically Latvian Communists became one of the groups particularly targeted by the Purges.

 

How to describe the red riflemen is still a hot issue in Latvia. It has been talks about if the statue (pictured) should be demolished or kept. Some see the red riflemen as pro-communists and want the statue removed, others see them as pro-Latvia and want the statue to remain.

 

Retrieved from Wikipedia

Here's the reason I wanted to stop in Indianapolis, as it turns out I've been driving right past the home of a President of the United States for 15 years. This is the home of Benjamin Harrison, one-term senator from Indiana and the 23rd President of the United States. Coincidentally, 23 is halfway to 46, and I'm betting that the 46th President of the United States will also be from Indiana.

 

We like to say that there have been 45 Presidents of the United States, but that's not really accurate, as we count one guy twice. Grover Cleveland served two terms, but the terms weren't consecutive, so he gets to be both the 22nd and 24th Presidents. Benjamin Harrison of Indiana was the guy stuck in the middle, the Presidential tomato on a Grover Cleveland sandwich. Which was probably fine with Harrison, as he really only dabbled in politics anyway. The grandson of William Henry Harrison (who served as the 9th President for only 30 days before dying of a cold), Benjamin Harrison spent most of his life as a prominent Indianapolis lawyer. He ran for governor in 1876 but lost. The Indiana General Assembly chose him to serve a six-year term as U.S. senator in 1881. In 1888, he ran for the presidency on the Republican ticket and won, beating out Democrat Grover Cleveland.

 

I sometimes come across the argument from Republicans on the internet who defend their party by saying that Republicans freed the slaves while Democrats were the party of the Ku Klux Klan. And while this statement is on its surface true, it misses the fact that the political parties dance around on issues and change positions a lot, and more than once they've all switched sides completely. You can look at the Republican administration of Benjamin Harrison and compare it to, say, Ronald Reagan or either of the Bushes as an illustration of that point. Harrison focused heavily on economic protectionism and helped push through the McKinley Tariff, which imposed an average duty of almost 50% on foreign goods. (Republicans in the modern era have mostly been fans of free trade until just recently, when the populist pendulum has started them swinging back toward protectionism.) He also signed the Sherman Antitrust Act, which prohibited certain monopolies, and the Land Revision Act of 1891, which led to the creation of the first national forest reserves. He even tried to push through protections of the voting rights of African-Americans, though he mostly failed on that one. He took us to the brink of war with Great Britain and Chile, which is the kind of thing a Republican would do, but then eased us through the tension with diplomacy, which is not. He was an early fan of the "tax-and-spend" philosophy that later Republicans would so viciously deride, and his administration holds the distinction of being the first to push the federal government's annual expenses to over a billion dollars. Democrat resentment over this spending would cost the Republicans big during the Congressional midterm elections of 1890, and it would give the White House back to Grover Cleveland and the Democrats in 1892. Which is not a thing you could say a hundred years later.

 

The end of Benjamin Harrison's presidency was the end of his political career, and he spent the rest of his life roaming around and either practicing law or giving lectures at various universities. In February of 1901, he caught influenza, which isn't something you want to do if you've ever been called President Harrison, and he died on March 13. His home is now owned by a private foundation, which offers tours, but it was closed when I took this picture.

[The old Eumolpus talking to the young Encolpius :]

"When I went to Asia," he began, "as a paid officer in the Quaestor's suite, I lodged with a family at Pergamus. I found my quarters very pleasant, first on account of the convenience and elegance of the apartments, and still more so because of the beauty of my host's son. I devised the following method to prevent the master of the house entertaining any suspicions of me as a seducer. Whenever the conversation at table turned on the abuse of handsome boys, I showed such extreme indignation and protested with such an air of austerity and offended dignity against the violence done to my ears by filthy talk of the sort, that I came to be regarded, especially by the mother, as one of the greatest of moralists and philosophers. Before long I was allowed to take the lad to the gymnasium; it was I that directed his studies, I that guided his conduct, and guarded against any possible debaucher of his person being admitted to the house.

 

"It happened on one occasion that we were sleeping in the dining-hall, the school having closed early as it was a holiday, and our amusements having rendered us too lazy to retire to our sleeping-chambers. Somewhere about midnight I noticed that the lad was awake; so whispering soft and low, I murmured a timid prayer in these words, 'Lady Venus, if I may kiss this boy, so that he know it not, tomorrow I will present him with a pair of doves.' Hearing the price offered for the gratification, the boy set up a snore. So approaching him, where he lay still making pretense to be asleep, I stole two or three flying kisses. Satisfied with this beginning, I rose betimes next morning, and discharged my vow by bringing the eager lad a choice and costly pair of doves.

 

"The following night, the same opportunity occurring, I changed my petition, 'If I may pass a naughty hand over this boy, and he not feel it, I will present him for his complaisance with a brace of the best fighting cocks ever seen.' At this promise the child came nestling up to me of his own accord and was actually afraid, I think, lest I might drop asleep again. I soon quieted his uneasiness on this point, and amply satisfied my longings, short of the supreme bliss, on every part of his beautiful body. Then when daylight came, I made him happy with the gift I had promised him.

 

"As soon as the third night left me free to try again, I rose as before, and creeping up to the rascal, who was lying awake expecting me, whispered at his ear, 'If only, ye Immortal Gods, I may win of this sleeping darling full and happy satisfaction of my love, for such bliss I will tomorrow present the lad with an Asturian of the Macedonian strain, the best to be had for money, but always on the condition he shall not feel my violence.' Never did the stripling sleep more sound. So first I handled his plump and snowy bosoms, then kissed him on the mouth, and finally concentrated all my ardors in one supreme delight. Next morning he sat still in his room, expecting my present as usual. Well! you know as well as I do, it is a much easier matter to buy doves and fighting cocks than an Asturian; besides which, I was afraid so valuable a present might rouse suspicion as to the real motives of my liberality. After walking about for an hour or so, I returned to the house, and gave the boy a kiss--and nothing else. He looked about inquiringly, then threw his arms round my neck, and 'Please, sir!' he said, 'where is my Asturian?'

"'It is hard,' I replied, 'to get one fine enough. You will have to wait a few days for me to fulfill my vow.'

"The boy had wits enough to see through my answer, and his resentment was betrayed by the angry look that crossed his face.

 

"Although by this breach of faith I had closed against myself the door of access so carefully contrived, I returned once more to the attack. For, after allowing a few days to elapse, one night when similar circumstances had created just another opportunity for us as before, I began, the moment I heard the father snoring, to beg and pray the boy to be friends with me again,--that is, to let me give him pleasure for pleasure, adding all the arguments my burning concupiscence could suggest. But he was positively angry and refused to say one word beyond, 'Go to sleep, or I will tell my father.' But there is never an obstacle so difficult audacity will not vanquish it. He was still repeating, 'I will wake my father,' when I slipped into his bed and took my pleasure of him in spite of his half-hearted resistance. However, he found a certain pleasure in my naughty ways, for after a long string of complaints about my having cheated and cajoled him and made him the laughing-stock of his school-fellows, to whom he had boasted of his rich friend, he whispered, 'Still I won't be so unkind as you; if you like, do it again.'

 

"So forgetting all our differences, I was reconciled to the dear lad once more, and after utilizing his kind permission, I slipped off to sleep in his arms. But the stripling was not satisfied with only one repetition, all ripe for love as he was and just at the time of life for passive enjoyment. So he woke me up from my slumbers, and, 'Anything you'd like, eh?' said he. Nor was I, so far, indisposed to accept his offer. So working him the best ever I could, to the accompaniment of much panting and perspiration, I gave him what he wanted, and then dropped asleep again, worn out with pleasure. Less than an hour had passed before he started pinching me and asking, 'Eh! why are we not at work?' Hereupon, sick to death of being so often disturbed, I flew into a regular rage, and retorted his own words upon him; 'Go to sleep,' I cried, 'or I'll tell your father!'"

 

(Petronius, The Satyricon, translated from Latin by Alfred R. Allinson, The Panurge Press, New York, 1930).

 

Holding on to anger, resentment and hurt only gives you tense muscles, a headache and a sore jaw from clenching your teeth. Forgiveness gives you back the laughter and the lightness in your life.

 

Joan Lunden, in Healthy Living Magazine

  

Model : Mubarak Al Maalik

126/366 ― Embassy of Egypt

 

“The overman... Who has organized the chaos of his passions, given style to his character, and become creative. Aware of life's terrors, he affirms life without resentment.” ―Friedrich Nietzsche

Denarius. 54BC. 3.56grams. Rome mint. Pompeia. Crawford 434/02 Q.POMPEI Q.F.RVFVS. Obverse: curule chair, arrow, laurel. Reverse: curule chair, lituus, wreath. Scarce. Two curule chairs from two Roman consuls. The famous Sulla, and the later Q. Pompeius Rufus, whose son apparently struck this coin.

 

POMPEIA and CORNELIA. Obv — Across the field SVLLA CO(n)S(ul), Q(uintus) POMPEI(us) RVF(us). In the area, a curule chair between a laurel garland and a lituus – the augural staff; the whole alluding to the consulship, triumphal dignity, and augurship of Sylla. It is doubtful whether the RVFVS on both sides relates to one person or not : it was a wonderfully popular name, if its belonging to no fewer than fourteen Roman gentes may be admitted as an evidence. Rufus Caecilius was the brother of Publius Sylla by the same mother, but not by the same father; he was tribune of the plebs B.C. 63.

 

Rev — Q(uintus) POMPEI(us), Q(uintus) F(ilius). RVFVS CO(n)S(ul). A sella curulis as on the obverse, but posited between an arrow and a branch of laurel. The arrow may possibly be applied to the Apollinarian games, though surely Cavedoni takes considerable latitude in stating that therefore the laurel indicates Sylla's being one of the decemviri sacris faciundis. Perhaps, however, in the absence of closer inscriptions, there is nothing better to suggest. This coin is inferred to have been struck by the Q. Pomp. Rufus, who was tribune of the plebs, 52 BC and whose father was murdered in the forum by the Marian party 88 BC. The "seat" in the government thus commemorated, had descended a few pegs from its palmy honours; and that once august and highly aristocratic body — the Roman Senate — had become so indiscriminately increased, that it was recruited even from among the freedmen, common soldiers, and peregrini. Fallen from its high estate, it was mostly an instrument in the hands of men in power; and in the last days of the Republic, as well as during the Empire, it was truly a degraded and servile body. To be sure, the "conscript fathers" had occasional qualms, and were seized with a fit of virtuous resentment on the accession of a new emperor, at the vices of the deposed or defunct ; but a message from the throne instantly allayed their convulsive throes, and made them hug their chains.

13.05.10

 

When the routine bites hard

And ambitions are low

And the resentment rides high

But emotions won't grow

And we're changing our ways

Taking different roads

Then love, love will tear us apart again

 

Why is the bedroom so cold

Turned away on your side?

Is my timing that flawed

Our feelings run dry?

Yet there's still this appeal

That we've kept through our lives

Love, love will tear us apart again

 

Do you cry out in your sleep

All my failings exposed

Get a taste in my mouth

As desperation takes hold

Is it something so good

Just can't function no more?

When love, love will tear us apart again

 

Ilustración sobre el tema de como resentimiento "nos come la vida"

Diario La tercera, suplemento Tendencias, agosto 2011

Resentment is like taking poison every day and expecting the other person to die! (Something someone said on Oprah) I was searching my heart for forgiveness tonight. Imagine you are walking to an event, and your flash jumps the shoe (obviously not tightened in enough) and goes careening across an asphalt parking lot, and one of the people walking behind you says sarcastically, "Good job!" First of all, my heart was already in my throat seeing my $300 flash go sailing, so the nasty venom in the tone and comment was like a punch in the gut to go with it. I was in shock, outraged shock! I reeled around and said, "Wow, that was really compassionate...wow" and shook my head.

 

I went on to the event, (of course) and made sure I got a couple of shots of my offender. The anger was tearing my guts up as I smiled and encouraged the attendees for the camera. I kept thinking, be YOU, be kind, be above it and let that stinker see you doing so!!! After it was over, and I was in a safe place, I cried. All those feelings were draining, especially, the ANGER. Trust me, I'm no shrinking violet, but it was especially outrageus behavior by this person in light of the event and location.

 

When I looked at the photos, and got over the fact that indeed it appears my flash had some bad moments which I've never experienced with it, I really looked at her in the shots. My heart started to change as I realized, she must be unhappy with herself, and perhaps most of the things that have happened to her so far in life, and again, I cried. This time tears of compassion and perhaps the desperation of wishing I could help her find the goodness in herself and in life. Since I cannot reach out to her directly, I pray. I pray tonight for her to see and for all of us to see that every day is a gift and a new beginning. You can make a paradigm shift in your life, at any time. I pray also for everyone to be able to FORGIVE! Forgive your loved ones, forgive strangers, and forgive yourself! Life is short. I choose, forgiveness and compassion! I choose to forgive her. I also forgive myself for not tightening the flash completely and for feeling so angry and resentful.

 

Thanks for viewing and allowing me to share the catharsis I experienced today. =o)

***All rights to my images are STRICTLY reserved. Please contact me if you interested in purchasing my images or if you are and educator or non-profit interested in use.***

 

Canzone

 

When shall we learn, what should be clear as day,

We cannot choose what we are free to love?

Although the mouse we banished yesterday

Is an enraged rhinoceros today,

Our value is more treatened than we know:

Shabby objections to our present day

Go snooping round its outskirts; night and day

Faces, orations, battles, bait our will

As questionable forms and noises will;

Whole phyla of resentments every day

Give status to the wild men of the world

Who rule the absent-minded and this world.

 

We are created from and with the world

To suffer with and from it day by day:

Whether we meet in a majestic world

Of solid measurements or a dream world

Of swans and gold, we are required to love

All homeless objects that require a world.

Our claim to own our bodies and our world

Is our catastrophe. What can we know

But panic and caprice until we know

Our dreadful appetite demands a world

Whose order, origin, and purpose will

Be fluent satisfaction of our will?

 

Drift, Autumn, drift; fall, colours, where you will:

Bald melancholia minces through the world.

Regret, cold oceans, the lymphatic will

Caught in reflection on the right to will:

While violent dogs excite their dying day

To bacchic fury; snarl, though, as they will,

Their teeth are not a triumph for the will

But utter hesitation. What we love

Ourselves for is our power not to love,

To shrink to nothing or explode at will,

To ruin and remember that we know

What ruins and hyaenas cannot know.

 

If in this dark now I less often know

That spiral staircase where the haunted will

Hunts for its stolen luggage, who should know

Better than you, beloved, how I know

What gives security to any world.

Or in whose mirror I begin to know

The chaos of the heart as merchants know

Their coins and cities, genius its own day?

For through our lively traffic all the day,

In my own person I am forced to know

How much must be forgotten out of love,

How much must be forgiven, even love.

 

Dear flesh, dear mind, dear spirit, O dear love,

In the depths of myself blind monsters know

Your presence and are angry, dreading Love

That asks its image for more than love;

The hot rampageous horses of my will,

Catching the scent of Heaven, whinny: Love

Gives no excuse to evil done for love,

Neither in you, nor me, nor armies, nor the world

Of words and wheels, nor any other world.

Dear fellow-creature, praise our God of Love

That we are so admonished, that no day

Of conscious trial be a wasted day.

 

Or else we make a scarecrow of the day,

Loose ends and jumble of our common world,

And stuff and nonsense of our own free will;

Or else our changing flesh may never know

There must be sorrow if there can be love.

 

--WH Auden

Collections of remnants

dusty resentments

disappointments

placed on glass shelves

enclosed

sealed

Holding us in place

Holding on to the non-past

Gravitational stuff

Holding us down

 

Memories of sweetness

alofts

swiftly

gently and

flies away like a butterfly

 

ljs

The Pears 1917 Annual Cover 'Home Once More' by Joseph Simpson follows the theme of the 1916 front cover by Frank Dadd, with a kilted soldier from a contemporary Scottish regiment shown with his wife/sweetheart/sister.

The inside cover shows the editorial greeting at that dark time in WWI, and lists all the stories and illustrators, the three presentation plates and a series of four full page colour illustrations on the theme 'Humours of Old Christmas Days'. The plates are shown lower right.

 

1917 Content: from the annual's inside cover

Plates:

- There's More than One Style of Beauty by Margaret Collyer, b&w mezzogravure 17x22in. "Treating the old moral of 'Beauty & the Beast' with a sympathetic touch of contrast altogether new and effective. A young girl, daintily attired in white, is seated on acouch; she holds a hand-mirror in front of her, evidently well pleased with the reflection. Not so, however, the pet bulldog, who looks on in jealous resentment, in spite of having his mistress's arm around his neck. A fine picture." Only a poor small photo, and no jigsaws known at June23.

 

- Lady Hamilton as Diana by Romney, in colours 18.5x14.5in. (2 vintage jigsaws known.) July 23: NOW 3 - see below.

- Courting Trouble by Albert W Holden, in colours 18x13in. (3 vintage jigsaws known)

 

Colour Large Illustration Series Illustrating the Humours of Old Christmas Days

1 The Welcome Guest by John Hassall RI (1 jigsaw known)

2 The Boar Hunt by Harry Rountree

3 The Attack on the Coach by Lionel Edwards RI (1 jigsaw known)

4 The Master's Home Coming by Joseph Simpson RBA (also did the front cover).

 

Large, Left: A magnificent large jigsaw from the 1917 Annual Plate Lady Hamilton as Diana by Romney ref965 from the John H collection. Large accurately line-cut smooth push-fit pieces.

 

Middle, Right: A small later vintage jigsaw of the same painting from the USA. Pastime 90pc Lady Hamilton as Baccante/Diana by George Romney. c1930 with figurals, line-cutting and curl connectors.

As much as I tried to prevent it, my expectations have gotten away from me for this fourth Indy film and I am counting down the moments until its release. There has not been a single time that I’ve eagerly awaited something of this magnitude and not been crushed with disappointment. Hopefully Indiana Jones will be spare us of similar misery and be a film worthy of the series.

 

With that said, here is a list of a few of my biggest entertainment reappointments:

 

Weezer - (Green Album) CD

Effortless, lame, boring are a few adjectives that I’d like to punctuate with four letter words when describing this album. After a phenomenal sophomore release and a long hiatus Weezer returns to do little more than drool out of my CD player. It was at this point I wrote them off for dead.

Disappointment rating: 5 out of 5 stars

 

Halo 2 - Xbox

While years of playing multiplayer redeemed this game for me, it was initially the campaign mode that had me clamoring for its release. After multiple playthroughs of Halo 1’s campaign, I was ready to take on the Covenant and the flood as they invaded Earth.

 

While I could live with the ‘false advertising’ of the infamous E3 demo, I was utterly let down by the whole of the campaign mode. Combine that with a convoluted story line and a devastatingly anti-climactic ending and I was left holding the feces from the biggest space marine disappointment of all time. Did Bungie sacrifice the campaign mode in lue of multiplayer? That’s the way it felt to me.

Disappointment rating: 4 out of 5 stars

 

Star Wars - Episodes I, II, & III

The only thing I have left to say about these three films at this point is that I’m over it. I’m over the anger, resentment and hostility I felt towards George Lucas for vomiting them onto the big screen. The story was shit, the acting was shit and the dialog wasn’t anywhere near a level that could be compared to shit. These movies sucked ass so bad they should be banned.

 

I may have rose colored glasses when I look back at the original Star Wars trilogy, but that doesn’t mean there couldn’t exist prequels worthy of that fondness. What loyal fans got instead was so trite, forgetful and embarrassing that I would purposely leave it off my resume had I been even just a janitor on set of the films.

Disappointment rating: 5,000,000 out of 5 stars

 

I pray to Shiva that Indiana Jones DOES NOT make it onto this list. It is one of the few remaining untainted greats from my childhood. Hopefully it can stay that way.

 

COVER YOUR HEART INDY!!!!!