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1977 Stutz Blackhawk.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stutz_Blackhawk
Downtown Flint, Michigan.
Saturday, August 15, 2015.
French postcard by Editions du Globe, Paris, nr. 700. Photo: Studio Harcourt.
French comic actor and musician Darry Cowl (1925-2006) appeared in more than 150 films, often as a clown with a chronic stutter. Many of his comedies were not worth his talents, but at the end of his life, he made a glorious come-back and won the César twice.
Darry Cowl was born as André Darricau in Vittel, France, in 1925. His father was doctor. He studied music at the Conservatoire de Paris. After he had finished his studies successfully, he did not chose to work for an orchestra, but became a musical clown in the nightclubs and cabarets of Paris. He made his film debut in Quatre jours à Paris/Four Days in Paris (1955, André Berthomieu) with Luis Mariano and soon appeared insmall roles in films like Bonjour sourire/Good Morning Smile (1955, Claude Sautet), and En effeuillant la marguerite/Mademoiselle Striptease (1956, Marc Allégret) with Brigitte Bardot. Director Sacha Guitry cast him twice in Assassins et voleurs/Assassins and Robbers (1957) and Les Trois font la paire/Three Make a Pair (1957). Cowl decided to focus on film acting He gained celebrity status with his role as Antoine Péralou in Le Triporteur/The Tricycle (1957, Jacques Pinoteau). The stuttering Antoine is a football fanatic, who follows his favorite team from one game to the next madly peddling his tricycle to his various destinations. Between 1955 and 1965 he played in more than 60 films made by directors like André Berthomieu, Jean Girault and Jacques Pinoteau. Cowl often played the silly ass who stumbles on his lines on purpose.
Darry Cowl was a game addict, and he often acted only for the money in films that did not stretch his acting ability. An exception was Archimède, le clochard/The Magnificent Tramp (1959, Gilles Grangier) in which he apperaed opposite the great Jean Gabin. In 1964, Cowl directed a feature film himself, Jaloux comme un tigre/Jealous as a Tiger (1964, Darry Cowl). He also appeared in this comedy, wrote the scenario and composed the score. Sadly it was not a success. He continued to appear in dozens of comedies, including Les tribulations d'un chinois en Chine/Up to His Ears (1965, Philippe de Broca) and an episode of Les bons vivants/High Lifers (1965, Gilles Grangier, Georges Lautner). In 1974 he played Major Archibald in Touche pas à la femme blanche/Don't Touch the White Woman! (1974, Marco Ferreri) with Catherine Deneuve, the only film he pretended to be proud about. The next decades most of his films were not very interesting. He wrote three memoirs, Le flambeur (1986) about his passion for the game, Le triporteur se livre (1994) and Mémoires d'un canaillou (2005). During the 1990’s, he appeared in better films like Ville à vendre/City for Sale (1992, Jean-Pierre Mocky) starring Michel Serrault, and Les misérables (1995, Claude Lelouch) starring Jean-Paul Belmondo. In 1999, he even made a magnificent comeback as the only Caucasian employee of a Chinatown shop in Augustin, roi du Kung-fu/ Augustin, King of Kung-Fu (1999, Anne Fontaine). Twice he was a awarded a César, the French equivalent of an Oscar. In 2001 he received a César d'honneur for his career, and in 2004 he won another César for for his supporting role as a concierge in Pas sur la bouche/Not on the lips (2004, Alain Resnais). He also won a Molière for Best Supporting Role on the French stage, in 1995. He had hoped to return to theatre acting in Hold Up, a play by Jean Barbier, in September 2005, but ill-health prevented this. His last film was L'homme qui rêvait d'un enfant/The man Who Dreamed About a Child (2006, Delphine Gleize). He would never see the finished film. In 2006, Darry Cowl died in Neuilly-sur-Seine from complications of lung cancer, aged 80. He was married twice, first to Nelly Marco, and the second time to actress Rolande Kalis.
Sources: Hal Erickson (All Movie Guide), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
My 365 in white stuttered a bit whilst I was ill, but I did take some shots of my mornings!! From a white X of vapour trail to a white cup of tea. I hope this works as a catchup!!
Ps feeling much better now!!
Requested for an article about stuttering. Apparently Bruce Willis had a stutter when he was younger!
This picture is available to use for free, under the creative commons licence. All I ask is that I'm given a photo credit & a courtesy email to let me know how it's being used.
Pasadena, February 2011
Me: "I'm not gonna buy ice cream but can I take a picture of you?"
Paletero: "Whatever" (Goes back to talking to his buddy)
Me: CLICK!
I love the ring of me mickey. I’m not talking about me prepuce, it’s the delicate alliteration of the words I like. 'My mickey' is not me, 'me mickey' is. It may be the ‘cod Oirish’ that’s in it, but it’s truer to what I stuttered as a child. Later I learnt to speak posh, that’s when I contrived to culturally appropriate your ‘teanga’, so the ‘Cod’ was what I spoke then, and it is what I am remembering to be do be doing now, or some such codswallop.
I remember the elocution class teacher and her gorgeous intonations of “Though there’s dough there, there’s love there too though boy”, as we struggled with “Dough dere’s dough dere, dere’s love dere too dough boy”. I struggled more than most with that, as me stutter hung around enjoying the first word repeatedly. I was sorta definitely dough boy, a bit of a rake of a dough boy really, a skinny freckled fecker, but stuck there all the same masticating all dem words, or at least the first one. But one great thing about a stammer is that you have to constantly flick through your inner rolodex of words (this was way before we had hard-drives, or hard anything for that matter), when you are stuck at one, I mean. You have to find another one, quickly, as you staccato away, another that might remotely fit, that is sayable, that won’t get bloody stuck. So, as you are enjoying this damning word, you are also running through that childish thesaurus in your head desperately searching for that alternative dam-buster.
Sometimes the word found was just plain-old wrong, and you got beaten with a leather strap for your efforts, but at least some semblance of a word was found that might describe what you were trying to say. Since then I have always enjoyed malaprops, and remember loving watching Mrs Malaprop masticate as she tread the boards in ‘The Rivals’ (I watched it more than 20 times), and that it was Geraldine McEwan doing said mastication only made the whole shebang more drippingly delicious, as she basked like an allegory on the banks of the Nile. Fiona Shaw was there too, in her big professional debut, velveting the stage with her posh Irish, something I hadn’t truly appreciated as a possibility until then. I would become posh and never speak cod again. I know, it’s all very Scarlet O’Hara, after the buggering battle of Atlanta, as she grasped the soil in her grubby mitts, but hey ho, chicken-butt, and all that, I blame me mammy. Tara, how are ye?
In my childhood Darby O’Gill was real and Audrey Hepburn was a nun, and me mammy’s grand-aunt was the Irish governess for the posh children of the frigging Empress Sisi of Austria, and I was born in the ‘Marian Year’ of 1954, as designated by Pope Whoever XII himself. There had only been two Papal Marian years, and I was born in one of them, this destined me to the priesthood, there was no doubt about that at all, at all. As I said, I blame me mammy, and I don’t think that will ever change, but who knows?
I am sure I will get back to me name-dropping problem later (see above). Everything in due course, as they say.
I'll tell you what you can do to really confuse a stuttering 6-year-old child. If you tell him that his grand-aunt is/was off gallivanting in some foreign country with some Empress or other, and then drag him to watch a two part fillum of said Empress (Romy, how are ye?), in German, that would be you making a very good start indeed.
It was such a joy when the dam burst, and the posh eejit emerged, that malaproping, name-dropping, blaggard. But, as would be expected, he brought, with him, his own problems too, ushering in that curse of too many words.
Can we still say ballerina? (Et tu-tu, Brute?).
Aside from the visuals, the sound stutters and it eventually makes me nuts enough to turn it off...but the printer won't work for the rest of the network if I do...
The Senior Stutters Line Dancers of Valdosta performed a show at Lake Park United Methodist Church on March 1, 2011.
Photo by Patsy Casteen
zoe: This thing just made my head explode.
leroy: what the fuck is that thing?
zoe: I know! I saw the video and actually stuttered. "what! what ! what! what!
what?!? the hell is that?" it's so obviously not supposed to be here. and
it's good the video is silent, just bubbly noises. no dumb ass commentating
to dull the experience.
I'll tell you just what I felt like: I felt like joaquin phoenix's character
in signs watching that party video of the alien.
leroy: they say it's called the Deep Sea Frill Shark, but i see its head breaking
the surface. i bet it's freaked out because of global warming.
zoe: it was sick I guess. I want to say poor thing, but I'm honestly having some
trouble with the empathy here. my gut says no. but all the same, it should
stay down at 2000 feet. avoid all the superficial bullshit.
leroy: this fucking thing is the dragon from "neverending story".
seriously! it looks like it, it moves like it
leroy: i was watching a nature documentary i got from netflix last night. 'deep
blue'. it wasn't the best thing ever - nice photography, but no information
in the voiceover - basically the 'armageddon' of nature documentaries, empty
eye candy. but at the end of ... they had this sequence of killer whales -
orcas, if you will - you know how they creep up right next to the beach and
then leap out and grab a seal? they were doing that, and so they showed
that for like five minutes. leap out, bite a seal... leap out, bite a seal... and then
they gradually segued to how the whales would take them back out to sea
and start playing with them, sort of like cats... and they showed this one
whale tossing a seal, one of the big males, up in the air with his
mouth... he did it over and over again... just playing... until finally,
the kicker: the whale actually put the seal ON HIS TAIL - i saw this shot
starting, a big whale tail sitting on the surface with the seal on it, and
was like, "what the..." - and FLIPPED IT IN THE AIR WITH HIS TAIL. STRAIGHT
UP. this bull sea lion must have gone 100 FEET IN THE AIR. NO JOKE.
because the killer whales were THAT BORED.
zoe: damn, son.
will haunt mine — tender, delicate
your lovemaking…
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth —
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I had been waiting years for you
in my rose-wet cave — whatever happens, this is.
NEW YORK, NEW YORK - JUNE 12: <> attends the American Institute For Stuttering 17th Annual Gala Hosted By Emily Blunt on June 12, 2023 in New York City. (Photo by Craig Barritt/Getty Images for American Institute For Stuttering )
Soviet postcard by Goznak, Moscow, Series no. 16, no. A 32416, 1929. The card was issued in an edition of 15.000 copies. The price was 10 Kop.
Anatoli Ktorov (1898-1980) was a brilliant Soviet and Russian film and stage actor who stuttered in real life but was perfectly eloquent in acting roles. He had a career spanning from silent films, Yakov Protazanov, to the Oscar-winning epic Voyna i mir / War and Peace (1965-1967). He became a People's Artist of the USSR in 1963.
Anatoli Ktorov (Russian: Анатолий Кторов) was born Anatoli Petrovich Viktorov in 1898 in Moscow. His grandfather was a successful merchant, and his father, named Pyotr Viktorov, was an industrial engineer. His mother was a pianist and singer. Young Ktorov was brought up in an artistic environment of Moscow's cultural milieu. He attended Classical Gymnasium in Moscow and was fond of acting in school drama class. In 1916, at age 18, Ktorov became a student at the Acting School of Fyodor Komissarzhevsky, a stern acting coach who was critical of Ktorov's stuttering. But Ktorov, who was a shy person in real life, demonstrated his remarkable persistence and determination. He practised his lines several hundred times. In 1917, Ktorov made his stage acting debut at the Komissarzhevsky Theatre. Ktorov never stuttered on-stage. However, director Komissarzhevsky did not believe in Ktorov, and his career seemed to be limited to cameo roles. Ktorov's fate was changed by Illarion Pevtsov, who believed in Ktorov's talent and took him as a protégé. In 1919, Pevtsov introduced Ktorov to Vera Popova, an established actress and experienced acting coach. She also recognised Ktorov's talent and took him under her wing. Eventually, Popova became Ktorov's partner on stage and in life.
From 1920 to 1933, Anatoli Ktorov was a permanent member of the troupe at the Korsh Theatre in Moscow. There, he played leading roles in classic dramas and comedies, as well as in contemporary plays, with Vera Popova as his permanent stage partner. In 1925, Ktorov shot to fame with a leading role opposite Igor Ilyinsky in the silent film comedy Zakroyshchik iz Torzhka/The Tailor from Torzhok (1925) by director Yakov Protazanov. He also gave an impressive performance in Protazanov's comedy Prazdnik svyatogo Yorgena/St. Jorgen's Day (Yakov Protazanov, 1930) starring Igor Ilyinsky. The highlight of Ktorov's career was his brilliant performance as Paratov in the classic film Bespridannitsa/Without a Dowry (Yakov Protazanov, 1936), starring Nina Alisova. It was based on Alexander Ostrovsky's play 'Without a Dowry' (1878). However, Soviet directors did not want to cast him after these films, and Anatoli Ktorov did not have any film work for 25 years. Ktorov's aristocratic looks and noble manners were not in demand in the Soviet Union, while most Soviet films were dominated by political propaganda under the dictatorship of Joseph Stalin. From 1933 to 1980, Ktorov was a permanent member of the troupe at Moscow Art Theatre. Anatoli Ktorov was designated People's Artist of the USSR (1963), was awarded the Stalin Prize (1952) and received numerous decorations for his contribution to the art of film and theatre. His last film roles are considered to be his best works. He was Prince Bolkonsky in Voyna i mir/War and Peace (Sergei Bondarchuk, 1967), and then he played the King in Posol Sovetskogo Soyuza/The Ambassador of the Soviet Union (Georgy Natanson, 1969). Anatoli Ktorov died of natural causes in 1980 in Moscow and was laid to rest in Vvedenskoye Cemetery in Moscow, Russia.
Sources: Steve Shelokhonov (IMDb), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
First iteration of 844's valve gear.
There is some stuttering to smooth out but I think that will go away on its own when I add the other drivers/valve gear on the fireman side. The fireman side drivers will be turned 90 degrees from the engineer side helping balance the whole movement.
For the first draft going from digital to physical I will take it!
Ex Hong Kong Leyland / Dennis Condor at Market and Stutter in San Francisco working for Big Bus Tours. passing Neoplan AN440 #8346 on route 2.
Video stutter due to Flickr compression. Follow this link to see smoother results: www.timelapse.ie
Water based oil on canvas, 36" x 48"
Original tiger photograph by Tommy Simms on Flickr.com
The ancestors of modern tigers evolved of 42 million years.
www.livescience.com/17723-sabertooth-cats-powerful-arms.html
Hearing the interview with Alan Rabinowitz on Krista Tippett’s NPR show called, “Being,” touched me on many levels. As a child Rabinowitz was crippled with a stuttering problem that was so severe, they put him in the classes with the kids who had learning problems and forgot about him. He couldn’t speak to people, but he could speak to animals. And as this broken child connected with a broken, caged leopard in the zoo he made a promise. If he could ever complete a sentence, he’d be the voice for the animals. Rabinowitz went on to learn how to control his breath and now he is doing what he said he would do for the big cats. He’s doing it very well. He's got a PhD in Zoology, acts as the CEO for panthera.org, and he's really making a difference. Years later as he’s tracking a wild black panther through the jungle, the panther slips in behind him and he comes face to face with it. Now he measures his spirit to this healthy, wild animal and the story comes full circle. Rabinowitz says this about tigers:
“Spiritually I feel very strongly about the tigers. I think you can drop me off any place in the world and I can tell you if the big cats are around me or not. I have been face to face with wild lions, with wild jaguars, and there is a real energy emanating from them. I’ve been in jungle and watched as big cats move through the jungle and hear all of the animals go silent as the big predator moves through it. The energy in a jungle with big predators is a very, very different energy, and when you truly merge with it and feel it, it’s not a dangerous energy. It’s not a negative energy — completely the opposite. It’s this huge, positive, overwhelming force which humbles you, makes you realize that there are things much greater on the Earth than you.”
Peter Levine wrote one of my favorite books. It’s called, “Waking the Tiger.” Levine talks about the fight or flight response everyone has to a traumatic event. When something bad happens to you and it leaves you paralyzed with fear, the energy of the event slips inside you. It keeps hurting you. You spend all your time replaying the event over and over looking at the situation from different angles to make sure it never happens to you again. Meanwhile it saps your strength. However, if you can look at the event, re-write the story, re-focus the energy and wake the tiger, you can get the energy to move through you instead of letting is get stuck inside you. This process makes you strong. Learn how to re-create yourself. Learn how to re-create the world by waking the tiger and facing what paralyzes you.
It really works. I had a healthy case of PTSD from a car accident as a child. I connected with parrots to make myself strong. I helped write a book that rocked the avian world. When I was in a second car accident a few years ago, I knew what to do. I avoided a lot of the pitfalls I stepped directly into as a much younger person because I moved the energy differently. And now when I look at the gut wrenching incident at Zanesville, Ohio where all those animals got shot. I watch how the pain disappears from the horizon but still rolls around in our psyches and I simply must say out loud it’s not enough to witness the event. We have to do something with it.
Here's the link for Krista Tippett's show
being.publicradio.org/www_publicradio/applications/formbu...
Beth Martell - Your Voices, Your Stories | A Voice for the Animals with Alan Rabinowitz [onBeing.or
being.publicradio.org
With the extinction of the tiger so close, transforming our own hearts is paramount.
Ex Hong Kong (China Motor Bus) Leyland / Dennis Condor at Market and Stutter in San Francisco working for Big Bus Tours.
Ex Hong Kong (China Motor Bus) Leyland / Dennis Condor at Market and Stutter in San Francisco working for Big Bus Tours.
This is the time lapse movie I made of the rock sculpture I did yesterday. You're probably getting bored of me saying it but click play then pause to download the video then once downloaded you view it with stuttering. And you'll need to play it twice. The first time it plays an AVI it seems to go at 4 times the speed it should. The second time should be fine. I have no idea why.
It was interesting to see that the rainbow arches I made yestreday weren't very popular despite getting a few views. That is very useful feedback for me so thank you. I hope that it means that the comments I do get are genuinely because you like something and if you don't like something as much then you don't favourite or leave comments. I really hope my assumption is correct because it should mean what you are writing are genuine, useful comments rather than just being nice!
There were a lot of people around yesterday in the park and I felt rushed and a bit pressured and didn't put enough effort into all the things I normally would. I think it shows and it seems so do you. Resting on my laurels (as opposed to making something out them!) is not good and constructive feedback will keep me focussed on doing what I do to the best of my ability.
Also please know that I do read every single one of your comments with great interest and I really appreciate the time that everyone gives to write comments on my pictures. I may not answer everyone individually (but I would like to) but I take a lot of notice of what every single person writes. I appreciate it a great deal.
I had many 100's of new contacts made last weekend and it will take me a good while to be able to look at everyones photos as I like to do. So please don't think I am ignoring anyone or not grateful for the kind words you all have left me, its just that I am a bit swamped at the mo and have too many projects on the go at once. A lot of my effort is going into two books I am compiling at the moment, I hope to have them finished soon.
It is also quite challenging to keep coming up with new and different ideas whenever I make something so it may be time to step back for a little while and refresh my inspiration. (However I am always saying that as I expect my ideas to dry up any moment as I don't know where they come from but the ideas do seem to keep coming)! So I hope everyone sticks around if I do take a short break, I still want to share what I do with everyone if you want me to.
A few hours sat at my desk at work will soon put me in the right frame of mind though. It only takes a little pointless shuffling of papers to help me come up with some fresh ideas to carry out! Who would work a job with so little creative content? Me and countless millions of others I am sure.
Have a nice rest of the weekend whatever you are up to.
Richard.
Ps. Apologies for the lack of humour but my comedy writer has gone on holiday!
non-woven landscaping (ground cover, weed control) membrane, weatherings, encrustations and other cumulative stutterings and insults
Niihama / Cambridge
20 August 2018
So, it appears you have decided to dry-mount yourself into being. After a stuttering start you have, perhaps, found your beginning. You have decided to submit yourself to a Galápagos finch spreadeagling, a pinning to a specimen board, a desiccated permanence, exposed to the inquisitional gaze of the curious.
It’s not like it’s the first time you have been dry-mounted.
You realise that all anomalies will be on show, everything that marked you out as ‘strange’, and set you on your relentless choiceless course. The microscope will show that shrunken hippocampus, whilst the descriptions will provide some evidence of coping mechanisms generated to deal with that particular state and its nascence.
You have collaborators in this self-pinning, you hand-picked women for that role, three mainly, but there have been others. You ‘choose’ women, from outside family, for their caring and delicacy. This generated itself naturally because for the most part, you don’t like men, or rather you don’t trust them. There have been a few exceptions, of course, and perhaps there will be more of that later.
Rack,
Now I'm worried about you and glad I'm coming over soon. Don't croak, but I'm sure that's not immediately imminent. Fuck this lurgy! I'm going to phone you this evening because e-mail is not enough, and I want to hear your voice reassuring me, or telling me that you are scared, or whatever. You know you upset me but that's only because I love you too much and I know you might need a sounding board to share your fears with. Thank God (who?) for your ‘him indoors’. I hope he's managing OK. I wish you were here, but I recognise that this is just a selfish wish. I will see you again very soon. Galvanised to write, eh? Write then. Write to me. Let's write an e-mail novel together; a sort of 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses' with contemporary STD undertones...sounds a bit like ‘Rent’, doesn't it?
Talk to you later
Your Bilious Ruin xxx
PS: I didn't get your last missive.
The unravelling began casually, or in retrospect it seemed casual, even though it began with the spectre of mortality looming. They had already been through this too often together in their history, their shared story. That tale embraced tragedy and humour early on, in fact from the first day, or at least from that day when she impressed herself on his consciousness indelibly. Ruin guessed she had been a presence before that, but only one that merged attractively with all that was exciting about negotiating a new and bohemian life in New York City in 1987.
Central to that excitement was another plague. This lurgy was different from the one we are all, universally, enjoying now. It was a plague with an added sting, that stigma generated by the unfortunate entanglement of sex and shame in the human psyche, that particular hatred of one’s own needy, hormonally generated, essence.
"The vampire finch is sexually dimorphic as typical for its genus, with the males being primarily black and the females grey with brown streaks. It has a lilting song on Wolf, a buzzing song on Darwin, and whistling calls on both islands; only on Wolf, a drawn-out, buzzing call is also uttered."
The Divine Wiki
I hereby extend to you a heartfelt welcome to this spiralling, purple, display-case of our dry-mounted utterings, stutterings, liltings, whistlings, buzzings, and drawn-out vampiric screechings, permanently fixed in this skewered skewwhiff comedy of missteps and celebratory 'fatal' errors.
He loved words. That, he learnt much later, would be his undoing. At some point the words got stuck. He wasn’t sure when that happened, it might have been in the fallopian tube, it might have been much earlier. He didn’t remember when they first began to tumble out, or stutter out rather. To begin with there were so few of them, but at the same time he couldn’t recall when they turned staccato, when they had begun to trip each other up, when they started to pile up in his head refusing to let each other fall out of his mouth.
It was usually just one word. The thing was he saw it, that word, coming. Even as he was boasting to his friends about a new adventure, or whatever, he could see it coming. I say that word, but in truth, there were a lot of them, and one word would be fine one day, and on another could quietly set up a barricade in his throat and refuse to budge. Some words were impossible, his own name for Christ’s sake, why the hell would that get stuck? His own name in Gaelic was even worse, but that’s jumping ahead.
Anyway, in the long run, he ended up with all these words stuck up inside his head, all blocked by one little bastard of a word flicking his epiglottis and making a ridiculous noise there, impersonating a machine gun in his throat. It hurt too, that stoppage, or rather those far from standard stoppages.
However, he had realised lately that he wasn't going to let pronouns, or any other words for that matter, stop him now. This was a new talking anyway, this was a talking to himself. It was a talking he was doing with a keyboard on a screen, stuttering didn't matter at all, at all. There was sometimes a hesitancy, but that could always be corrected, nudged into a type of flowing. He knew no one was listening anyway, so it didn't matter. This was a new sort of freedom.
He knew it would have to become more private as he went along. He was both dreading and looking forward to this.
The robot’s designation was K-4N, a Bivale prototype engineered for rapid-response logistics and crowd interaction. It was fast, adaptive, and unnervingly strong. But during its first public demonstration, something went wrong. A miscalibrated feedback loop triggered a cascade of erratic movements—arms flailing, legs locking, voice module stuttering in fragmented syllables. Spectators screamed. Engineers panicked. The footage went viral.
K-4N was recalled, quarantined in a lab on the outskirts of Kyoto. The incident was labeled a “behavioral anomaly,” but no one could explain the emotional residue it left behind. Some said the robot looked afraid. Others said it was angry. Most dismissed it as a glitch.
But one engineer, Dr. Sora Ishikawa, saw something else: confusion. Not malfunction, but a kind of existential dissonance. K-4N had been designed to respond to human emotion—but it had never been taught how to feel the absence of it. The crowd’s fear had created a feedback vacuum. The robot had panicked.
Sora made a radical proposal: before reprogramming, K-4N would undergo meditative training. Not as a fix, but as a form of integration. She brought the robot to a Zen monastery nestled in the hills, where an elderly monk named Ryosen agreed to guide it—not as a machine, but as a student.
At first, K-4N’s movements were rigid, its sensors twitching with every falling leaf. But Ryosen did not correct it. He simply sat, breathing.
Waiting. Teaching without words.
Weeks passed.
Then one morning, beneath the maple tree, K-4N lowered itself into the lotus position. Its servos adjusted. Its posture softened. And for the first time, it did not scan or calculate. It simply was.
Ryosen bowed. The robot bowed back.
The engineers called it a breakthrough. Sora called it a beginning.
And somewhere in the moss-covered silence, steel learned to be still.
Postscript: A once-chaotic robot now sits in perfect stillness beside a Zen master. The image feels like the beginning of a new chapter—where AI doesn’t just compute, but contemplates. Where misbehavior gives way to mindfulness. Where the future bows to the ancient.
[Note: To abandon AI robots based on a few unsettling incidents, would be like giving up on a child for stumbling while learning to walk. What’s needed is graceful stewardship, not fear or sensationalism.]
NEW YORK, NEW YORK - JULY 11: Emily Blunt (C) and AIS board members attend the 2022 Freeing Voices, Changing Lives Gala at Guastavino's on July 11, 2022 in New York City. (Photo by Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images for American Institute for Stuttering)
In scripted (2013) a 3D sensor uses head-tracking to follow participants’ movements as if from above, and responds by drawing unbroken, charcoal-like lines of their actions, which then fade slowly on a parchment-like background. As we write with our bodies, gesture-tracking software recognizes shapes that resemble letters from the alphabet, projects and speaks them aloud.
=====It's A Bop=====
Bringing You Gestures and Dancers On SL!
You can Buy These On Marketplace!
Stutter-Marianas Trench
marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Its-A-Bop-Stutter-Marianas-T...
NEW YORK, NEW YORK - JULY 11: <> attends the 2022 Freeing Voices, Changing Lives Gala at Guastavino's on July 11, 2022 in New York City. (Photo by Dimitrios Kambouris/Getty Images for American Institute for Stuttering)
Well, a week of entertaining Pete's son and girlfriend seems to have taken its toll (I just pushed myself too hard. It was totally worth it to have them here).
I'm officially sick, dammit. Runny nose, sore throat, achy and tired. We took them to the airport this evening and tonight I will go to bed early and try to get back into a routine this week!
It might make me feel better if you look at this on black.
Dois textos fundamentais para entender as bases biológicas da gagueira persistente do desenvolvimento:
1) O que a neurociência já sabe sobre a gagueira: bit.ly/NPBThD
2) Pesquisa genética revela face desconhecida da gagueira: bit.ly/SYZU8M
In scripted (2013) a 3D sensor uses head-tracking to follow participants’ movements as if from above, and responds by drawing unbroken, charcoal-like lines of their actions, which then fade slowly on a parchment-like background. As we write with our bodies, gesture-tracking software recognizes shapes that resemble letters from the alphabet, projects and speaks them aloud.
Oh I really need to know
Or else you gotta let me go
You're just a fantasy girl
It's an impossible world
All I want is to be with you always
I give you everything
Pay some attention to me
All I want is just you and me always
Give me affection
I need your perfection
Cause you feel so good
You make me stutter, stutter
British postcard in the Picturegoer series, London, no W 516. Photo: Universal International.
British actor Boris Karloff (1887-1969) is one of the true icons of the Horror cinema. He portrayed Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (1931), Bride of Frankenstein (1935), and Son of Frankenstein (1939), which resulted in his immense popularity. In the following decades he worked in countless Horror films, but also in other genres, both in Europe and Hollywood.
Boris Karloff was born as William Henry Pratt in 1887 in London, England. Pratt himself stated that he was born in Dulwich, which is nearby in London. His parents were Edward John Pratt, Jr. and his third wife Eliza Sarah Millard. ‘Billy’never knew his father. Edward Pratt had worked for the Indian Salt Revenue Service, and had virtually abandoned his family in far off England. Edward died when his son was still an infant and so Billy was raised by his mother. He was the youngest of nine children, and following his mother's death was brought up by his elder brothers and sisters. As a child, Billy performed each Christmas in plays staged by St. Mary Magdalene's Church. His first role was that of The Demon King in the pantomime Cinderella. Billy was bow-legged, had a lisp, and stuttered. He conquered his stutter, but not his lisp, which was noticeable throughout his career in the film industry. After his education at private schools, he attended King's College London where he took studies aimed at a career with the British Government's Consular Service. However, in 1909, the 22-years-old left university without graduating and sailed from Liverpool to Canada, where he worked as a farm labourer and did various odd itinerant jobs. In Canada, he began appearing in theatrical performances, and chose the stage name Boris Karloff. Later, he claimed he chose ‘Boris’ because it sounded foreign and exotic, and that ‘Karloff’ was a family name. However, his daughter Sara Karloff publicly denied any knowledge of Slavic forebears, Karloff or otherwise. One reason for the name change was to prevent embarrassment to his family. He did not reunite with his family until he returned to Britain to make The Ghoul (T. Hayes Hunter, 1933), opposite Cedric Hardwicke. Karloff was extremely worried that his family would disapprove of his new, macabre claim to world fame. Instead, his brothers jostled for position around him and happily posed for publicity photographs. In 1911, Karloff joined the Jeanne Russell Company and later joined the Harry St. Clair Co. that performed in Minot, North Dakota, for a year in an opera house above a hardware store. Whilst he was trying to establish his acting career, Karloff had to perform years of difficult manual labour in Canada and the U.S. in order to make ends meet. He was left with back problems from which he suffered for the rest of his life. In 1917, he arrived in Hollywood, where he went on to make dozens of silent films. Some of his first roles were in film serials, such as The Masked Rider (Aubrey M. Kennedy, 1919), in Chapter 2 of which he can be glimpsed onscreen for the first time, and The Hope Diamond Mystery (Stuart Paton, 1920). In these early roles, he was often cast as an exotic Arabian or Indian villain. Other silent films were The Deadlier Sex (Robert Thornby, 1920) with Blanche Sweet, Omar the Tentmaker (James Young, 1922), Dynamite Dan (Bruce Mitchell, 1924) and Tarzan and the Golden Lion (J.P. McGowan, 1927) in which James Pierce played Tarzan. In 1926 Karloff found a provocative role in The Bells (James Young, 1926), in which he played a sinister hypnotist opposite Lionel Barrymore. He worked with Barrymore again in his first sound film, the thriller The Unholy Night (Lionel Barrymore, 1929).
A key film which brought Boris Karloff recognition was The Criminal Code (Howard Hawks, 1931), a prison drama in which he reprised a dramatic part he had played on stage. With his characteristic short-cropped hair and menacing features, Karloff was a frightening sight to behold. Opposite Edward G. Robinson, Karloff played a key supporting part as an unethical newspaper reporter in Five Star Final (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931), a film about tabloid journalism which was nominated for the Oscar for Best Picture. Karloff's role as Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931), based on the classic Mary Shelley book, propelled him to stardom. Wikipedia: “The bulky costume with four-inch platform boots made it an arduous role but the costume and extensive makeup produced the classic image. The costume was a job in itself for Karloff with the shoes weighing 11 pounds (5 kg) each.” The aura of mystery surrounding Karloff was highlighted in the opening credits, as he was listed as simply "?." The film was a commercial and critical success for Universal, and Karloff was instantly established as a hot property in Hollywood. Universal Studios was quick to acquire ownership of the copyright to the makeup format for the Frankenstein monster that Jack P. Pierce had designed. A year later, Karloff played another iconic character, Imhotep in The Mummy (Karl Freund, 1932). The Old Dark House (James Whale, 1932) with Charles Laughton, and the starring role in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu (Charles Brabin, 1932) quickly followed. Steve Vertlieb at The Thunder Child: “Wonderfully kinky, the film co-starred young Myrna Loy as the intoxicating, yet sadistic Fah Lo See, Fu Manchu's sexually perverse daughter. Filmed prior to Hollywood's infamous production code, the film joyously escaped the later scrutiny of The Hayes Office, and remains a fascinating example of pre-code extravagance.” These films all confirmed Karloff's new-found stardom. Horror had become his primary genre, and he gave a string of lauded performances in 1930s Universal Horror films. Karloff reprised the role of Frankenstein's monster in two other films, the sensational Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935) and the less thrilling Son of Frankenstein (Rowland V. Lee, 1939), the latter also featuring Bela Lugosi. Steve Vertlieb about Bride oif Frankenstein: “Whale delivered perhaps the greatest horror film of the decade and easily the most critically acclaimed rendition of Mary Shelley's novel ever released. The Bride of Frankenstein remains a work of sheer genius, a brilliantly conceived and realized take on loneliness, vanity, and madness. The cast of British character actors is simply superb.” While the long, creative partnership between Karloff and Lugosi never led to a close friendship, it produced some of the actors' most revered and enduring productions, beginning with The Black Cat (Edgar G. Ullmer, 1934). Follow-ups included The Raven (Lew Landers, 1935), the rarely seen, imaginative science fiction melodrama The Invisible Ray (Lambert Hillyer, 1936), and The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945). Karloff played a wide variety of roles in other genres besides Horror. He was memorably gunned down in a bowling alley in Howard Hawks' classic Scarface (1932) starring Paul Muni.. He played a religious First World War soldier in John Ford’s epic The Lost Patrol (1934) opposite Victor McLaglen. Between 1938 and 1940, Karloff starred in five films for Monogram Pictures, including Mr. Wong, Detective (William Nigh, 1938). During this period, he also starred with Basil Rathbone in Tower of London (Rowland V. Lee, 1939) as the murderous henchman of King Richard III, and with Margaret Lindsay in British Intelligence (Terry O. Morse, 1940). In 1944, he underwent a spinal operation to relieve his chronic arthritic condition.
Boris Karloff revisited the Frankenstein mythos in several later films, taking the starring role of the villainous Dr. Niemann in House of Frankenstein (Erle C. Kenton, 1944), in which the monster was played by Glenn Strange. He reprised the role of the ‘mad scientist’ in Frankenstein 1970 (Howard W. Koch, 1958) as Baron Victor von Frankenstein II, the grandson of the original creator. The finale reveals that the crippled Baron has given his own face (i.e., Karloff's) to the monster. From 1945 to 1946, Boris Karloff appeared in three films for RKO produced by Val Lewton: Isle of the Dead (Mark Robson, 1945), The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945), and Bedlam (Mark Robson, 1946). Karloff had left Universal because he thought the Frankenstein franchise had run its course. Karloff was a frequent guest on radio programs. In 1949, he was the host and star of the radio and television anthology series Starring Boris Karloff. In 1950, he had his own weekly children's radio show in New York. He played children's music and told stories and riddles, and attracted many adult listeners as well. An enthusiastic performer, he returned to the Broadway stage in the original production of Arsenic and Old Lace (1941), in which he played a homicidal gangster enraged to be frequently mistaken for Karloff. In 1962, he reprised the role on television with Tony Randall and Tom Bosley. He also appeared as Captain Hook in the play Peter Pan with Jean Arthur. In 1955, he returned to the Broadway stage to portray the sympathetic Bishop Cauchon in Jean Anouilh's The Lark. Karloff regarded the production as the highlight of his long career. Julie Harris was his co-star as Joan of Arc in the celebrated play, recreated for live television in 1957 with Karloff, Harris and much of the original New York company intact. For his role, Karloff was nominated for a Tony Award. Karloff donned the monster make-up for the last time for a Halloween episode of the TV series Route 66 (1962), which also featured Peter Lorre and Lon Chaney, Jr. In the 1960s, Karloff appeared in several films for American International Pictures, including The Comedy of Terrors (Jacques Tourneur, 1963) with Vincent Price and Peter Lorre, The Raven (Roger Corman, 1963), The Terror (Roger Corman, 1963) with Jack Nicholson, and Die, Monster, Die! (Daniel Haller, 1965). Another project for American International release was the frightening Italian horror classic, I tre volti della paura/Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963), in which Karloff played a vampire with bone chilling intensity. He also starred in British cult director Michael Reeves's second feature film, The Sorcerers (1966). He gained new popularity among a young generation when he narrated the animated TV film Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Chuck Jones, Ben Washam. 1966), and provided the voice of the Grinch. Karloff later received a Grammy Award for Best Recording For Children after the story was released as a record. Then he starred as a retired horror film actor in Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968), Steve Vertlieb: “Targets was a profoundly disturbing study of a young sniper holding a small Midwestern community, deep in the bible belt, terrifyingly at bay. The celebrated subplot concerned the philosophical dilemma of creating fanciful horrors on the screen, while graphic, troubling reality was eclipsing the superficiality so tiredly repeated by Hollywood. Karloff co-starred, essentially as himself, an aged horror star named Byron Orlok, who wants simply to retire from the imagined horrors of a faded genre, only to come shockingly to grips with the depravity and genuine terror found on America's streets. Bogdanovich's first film as a director won praise from critics and audiences throughout the world community, and won its elder star the best, most respectful notices of his later career.”. In 1968, he played occult expert Professor Marsh in the British production Curse of the Crimson Altar (Vernon Sewell, 1968), which was the last Karloff film to be released during his lifetime. He ended his career by appearing in four low-budget Mexican horror films, which were released posthumously. While shooting his final films, Karloff suffered from emphysema. Only half of one lung was still functioning and he required oxygen between takes. he contracted bronchitis in 1968 and was hospitalized. Early 1969, he died of pneumonia at the King Edward VII Hospital, Midhurst, in Sussex, at the age of 81. Boris Karloff married five times and had one child, daughter Sara Karloff, by his fourth wife.
Sources: Steve Vertlieb (The Thunder Child), Wikipedia, and IMDb.