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paltimesnews 21/X/25
'Reports from the Gaza Mental Health Program reveal that many children in Gaza are losing their ability to speak due to psychological trauma from the ongoing war and Israeli bombardment, not physical injuries.
Known as “psychological mutism,” affected children communicate through gestures and repetitive movements instead of words.
Dr. Hiba Haidar, a language disorders specialist, confirmed that UNICEF and WHO data link speech loss and stuttering directly to exposure to bombing and traumatic events.
Even before the genocide, over half of Gaza’s children showed symptoms of post-traumatic stress, and experts warn that the situation may worsen, increasing the psychological burden on the next generation.'
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BETHEL - CAPEL YR ANNIBYNWYR/ INDEPENDENT CHAPEL - CYNGHORDY - SIR GAERFYRDDIN/ CARMARTHENSHIRE (1872)
In the South, history is mother's milk and father's glare, nourishing and reproving, embracing and humiliating. Slavery, that particularly cruel institution, is the nervous stutter that makes the whites wince and the blacks smolder when mentioned amongst polite folk. History, once the perogative of the powerful, practices a silence here, adhering to a compact between the children of the oppressors and oppressed that things were what they were and shouldnt be resurrected in open conversation. In this complicit silence, your eyes become your ears.
Down the road a spell from my home lies an antebellum plantation manor, once the estate of the wealthiest man in the pre-war South, and its largest slave holder. Though considered benign in his treatment of his slaves, 3,000 souls toiled under his ownership, building his mansion, harvesting his crops, caring for his family. Living and dying as property.
Behind the manor, down a long dirt and gravel road, nestled in a hillside grove, is the cemetery where those slaves were buried. A visitor today looking for the graveyard could easily pass through it without notice. It is a slow sloping fold of land, opening to a fallow field where cotton and tobacco were once grown. Young pines and old cedars. Leaves from the surrounding hardwoods starting to brown and litter the ground. There is nothing to shout out and shake the wandering visitor that they are standing in the middle of a cemetery of perhaps hundreds. I say perhaps because there are no records of who or how many are buried here. No statues, no monuments, no engraved tombstones - only a curious repetition of granite stones jutting up from the ground - and then they realize where they are, and then all they can then see are the scores and scores of nameless rocks marking burials. Anonymous and forgotten, with only a field stone to mark their resting place, you see the trees surrounding them and remember the columns of the mansion they served. This is where laconic history fesses up one of its secrets and you meet the cruel face of slavery for the first time.
Riddled with program descrepancies and circuiting errors, the Goof Bot has almost no good qualities. It cannot even handle the simplest tasks. Usually only brought out and powered up when in need of a good laugh. It stumbles and stutters and mutters giberish.
Another retro-ish bot while I have all the grey out, and yes the eyes are tied down with string.
Practicing star trails for an upcoming trip to Yosemite. The trails in this shot have a slight stutter which causes them to not look as smooth. I'm still figuring out the Sony built in time-lapse app; so I think it's the problem. I may have to go back to using my old method of shutter priority bracketing.
This was approximately 45 minutes of 30sec exposures blended with a single shot for the foreground using a luminosity mask.
Japan in Epcot seems to be the darkest area around the World Showcase. Every time I capture stars there I'm amazed at how many I can see in my photos.
Stuttering star trail. It was looking to be clear on Saturday night so decide to try get a astro shot with my little olympus with its livecomp mode, which stacks the photos in camera. It's a popular place for dog walkers but nobody will be there this time of night it's pitch black. WRONG! Eventually I get the composition I wanted and along came the visiting Exmoor ponies to see what this idiot is doing on the hill, on this cold night. So I start again and along comes the first dog walker, no light but his monster dog nearly knocks over my tripod. And I bet he left a monster poo on the hill. I start again and back come the ponies, I ignore them, I'll brush them out in post. Then an aeroplane across my trail. Start again. Now the fun and games, another couple of dog walkers with torches, flashing collars on the dogs and flashing go and fetch balls. Nearly about to give up, but I take a clean image of the foreground before the neon dog walkers make the return trip and then go for it. The last attempt I get 40 shots, with ponies walking about the foreground and then I pack in, my feet were freezing. Said bye bye to the ponies who I was getting rather attached to. Anyway I've stacked what I got together in PS for your enjoyment. Every photo tells a story.
It was one of those nights where the music hummed just right, and the air felt thick with the possibility of something new. He saw her across the bar—not in the dramatic, slow-motion way movies might show, but in a quiet, undeniable instant. Her laughter caught his attention first, then the way her eyes sparkled when she tilted her head to listen.
She noticed him too—leaning casually against the counter, a little out of place in the crowd, like he hadn’t planned to be there long. But the moment their eyes met, time stuttered. It wasn’t loud, not a thunderclap or a shock. It was a soft, electric pull. Something ancient and familiar, like they’d just remembered each other in a place they’d never been.
Love at first sight, people say, is a myth. But there, in the warm haze of a crowded bar, with hearts not looking but somehow ready, two souls recognized something neither of them had words for yet.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVN1aEFBcxw
Don't Leave, I Think I Love You · Toby Keith
*I'm sorry the picture isn't that great. I've included this looong story so you can see what is happening, as it's not very clear in the pic. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. But if you do, be sure to read the notes on the dolls before the story. Thanks (:
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For weeks, Penelope and her two best friends, Skye and Krystell, had plans to see their favourite dance group, The Swifts, perform a musical on stage. While the trio were discussing their plans at the school cafeteria one day, Penelope's former best friend and Krystell's Science Lab partner, Hilary, who happened to be the most annoying girl at the school, overheard their conversation. Excited from the words "The Swifts" and "I can't wait to see them", Hilary yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat with the girls.
"You're going to see The Swifts?!" Asked Hilary with wide eyes and hands clasped to her chin.
While still getting used to the fact that Hilary - the girl who used to steal just about every one of her pencils and erasers, the girl who laughed and made fun of her when she was sick, snotty and coughing in class, the girl who turned away her old friends, picked fights and lied her mouth off to just about everybody - Penelope sat there, unable to form words from her mouth, regretting that she'd ever started the conversation about seeing her favourite dance group while Hilary was nearby.
There was a small silence between the girls. Skye, having small knowledge of Hilary's true character and thinking that Penelope and Krystell were friends with Hilary only because she had seen them talking and walking together in the past, finally spoke up; "Yep, wanna come?"
Penelope and Krystell, slightly burying their faces in their hands, looked at each other nervously. They felt too bad to say anything, as Skye had already invited Hilary to come.
"Sure!" Hilary replied excitedly.
In the week to come, the four girls prepared for the show; they purchased the tickets and bought new dresses. When they were dressed and it was finally time to see the show which was starting in thirty minutes, they all met at Penelope's house to take her car. A confident Hilary, sure she had everything, took one last look into her purse to re-assure she had her ticket... but it was gone! She had left it on her dresser back at her house!
"Oh my Gosh, where's my ticket?!?!" Hilary yelled out as she was searching her purse.
The girls just stood back watching Hilary's rage, worried that she would never find her ticket and somehow try to stop them from seeing the show they were planning to see for weeks.
Hilary panicked and grabbed her head. "OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG!!!" she yelled, pulling every little item from her purse and shoving it back in with frustration.
Penelope couldn't just stand back helplessly any longer; she wanted to help Hayley somehow so Skye and Krystell could see the show. A generous Penelope, worried for her best friends and not herself, suddenly spoke up; "Hilary!" She tried calling out over Hilary's shouting. Hilary heard, turned around and glanced at Penelope; "What do you want?"
"I... Y-You can have my ticket" stuttered Penelope, still unsure of what she was doing.
"Really?! OMG, you saved my life!" replied a relieved Hilary.
Penelope grabbed the ticket from her bag and handed it over to Hilary, who swiped it from her hand in a heartbeat. "Thanks!" she said with no shame at all. "Well, see ya!" she heads over to the other girls.
Penelope was dumbfounded by Hilary's selfishness. But still, at least she felt better now that she knew her friends could see the show they had been planning for so long.
Hilary swung her arms over Skye's and Krystell's shoulders and walked out the door. Penelope could see how irratated her BFF's were from Hilary's weight over their shoulders. "Uh-Oh!" thought Penelope."What have I done to my girls?!"
maybe for a long time, disowned by your parents, betrayed by your wife. Your friends live in another town, your children only recall your stutter. You could hit yourself when you see yourself in the mirror... (angel touches his shoulder)
What's going on? I'm still here! All I need do is want it! I must want it! Only then will I get myself out of it! I can let myself go or drag myself out!!!
(Taken from the English subtitled version of the film "Der Himmel über Berlin").
(Sphyrapicus nuchalis) - Red-naped Sapsucker
Red-naped Sapsuckers are industrious woodpeckers with a taste for sugar. They drill neat little rows of holes in aspen, birch, and willow to lap up the sugary sap that flows out. The presence of sap wells is a good indication that they are around, but so are their harsh wailing cries and stuttered drumming. The red patch on the back of their head helps separate these sharply dressed black-and-white sapsuckers from Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers in the East and Red-breasted Sapsuckers along the western coastal states. Read more at: www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Red-naped_Sapsucker/overview
Olney State Forest, The Watagans, New South Wales, Australia
Vulnerable
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
No lovely singing at the moment though…
www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Song_Sparrow/overview
A rich, russet-and-gray bird with bold streaks down its white chest, the Song Sparrow is one of the most familiar North American sparrows. Don’t let the bewildering variety of regional differences this bird shows across North America deter you: it’s one of the first species you should suspect if you see a streaky sparrow in an open, shrubby, or wet area. If it perches on a low shrub, leans back, and sings a stuttering, clattering song, so much the better.
The Song Sparrow, like most other North American breeding birds, uses increasing day length as a cue for when to come into breeding condition. But, other cues can be important too, such as local temperature and food abundance.
They converge on the river at winter's end as they have for eons, carpeting the wetlands. In this light, something saurian still clings to them: the oldest flying things on earth, one stutter step away from pterodactyls. As darkness falls for real, it's a beginner's world again, the same evening as that day sixty million years ago when this migration began. -- Richard Powers, The Echo Maker
More at my blog Letter from Here.
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
— Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
A build for Digital Forge, inspired by old RTS games. The seed part is used as structural element in figures and vehicles, and also as tank chassis and rocket launchers.
Washpool National Park, Gibraltar Range, New South Wales, Australia
Contact me on jono_dashper@hotmail.com for use of this image.
Four days ago, on 15 April 2015, my parking lot was going to be spring-cleaned, which meant that all cars had to be out of the lot by 7:30 am. I don't have a 2015 street parking permit, so I had to leave home at 7:30 and find something that would use up the few hours before my volunteer shift. I didn't want to risk being late for that, so decided to stay within the city rather than go driving some backroads. The owls in Fish Creek Park ended up being my destination. I had only been there twice in many weeks and seen Mom on my first visit and then Mom with two of her three owlets on the second. When I arrived four mornings ago, there was no sign of the "paparazzi" - I had been expecting there to be at least a few photographers and people out for a walk. This time, I was able to see all three owlets as well as Mom and Dad. Late afternoon, after my volunteer shift, I called in again for a while on my way home.
Note added on 19 April: I've just checked the EXIF data for my photos from that morning and talk about being lucky! When I got to the park, I took my first photo at 7:52 am. The photo above was my sixth photo, and was taken at 7:54 am.. I think I was actually standing on the paved path for this. I heard today that a 10 minute limit has now been put on watching and photographing the owls at this location, thanks to the people who are there from morning till late afternoon every day (or almost every day). I had a bad feeling that these people were going to end up spoiling things for everyone else, and now it has happened. Can't say I agree with the "10 minute thing", but all day every day is going way too far. Sigh ....
This is a busy Mom with three young ones – not sure which owlet this is. Dad sits in one or other of the nearby trees, keeping careful watch over his mate and owlets. He hunts at night and brings food to the rest of his family. The feathers around Mom’s beak are very dark, discoloured from the dried blood from all the feedings.
"With its long, earlike tufts, intimidating yellow-eyed stare, and deep hooting voice, the Great Horned Owl is the quintessential owl of storybooks. This powerful predator can take down birds and mammals even larger than itself, but it also dines on daintier fare such as tiny scorpions, mice, and frogs. It’s one of the most common owls in North America, equally at home in deserts, wetlands, forests, grasslands, backyards, cities, and almost any other semi-open habitat between the Arctic and the tropics.
Great Horned Owls are nocturnal. You may see them at dusk sitting on fence posts or tree limbs at the edges of open areas, or flying across roads or fields with stiff, deep beats of their rounded wings. Their call is a deep, stuttering series of four to five hoots." From AllAboutBirds.
[18:28] Andrei Vendetta: He glances to sable. "we want our brownies. May we come with you to get the shit to make them?" He tilts his head, glancing to the empty bar and getting antsy
[18:30] Sable Levee smirks as glancing out the door as sees Denise standing out there," I don't like her she is mean to me.." putting the knowledge into Andreis head before nodding," ya lets go find some hash.." leaping off the bar
[18:36] Andrei Vendetta: He would move to follow her obediantly. He truly was like a big dumb puppy. At least Andrei was. Morbus was more like that dog you forgot outside and fed it human steaks every few days to keep it loyal
[18:38] Sable Levee pulls out phone as she walks to send Mud and text looking to see where he is as wants to score them from hi, receiving an reply say," lets go down by the bridge.."
"
[18:51] Memphis Stoop made his way back to his crib whistling a jonty song "Hey peeps..." he said as he walked down the stairs.
[18:51] Sable Levee head turns as sees Mud smiling," hiya do ya know Andrei.. Andrei this is Mud.."
[18:53] Memphis Stoop looked at the big fellah and smiled to him "Welcome to da'hauler crib bud!" he walked to the door and pushed it open, motioning them in "Take yer clothes off, do whatever da'fuck ye want.." he chuckled then nodded to Kire.
[18:55] Kiretha Rae waves as Mud as he enters with a cheery "Hi Sable" and sweet smile
[18:55] Andrei Vendetta: "Anything we want?" Morbus speaks darkly. Sable would recognize that voice as his eyes glanced over mud and the woman like they ere chunks of meat for dinner.His human skinned hat fluttering a bit as his head turns.
[18:57] Memphis Stoop: "Yeah..Except dun't'ye go shittin'on da'floor aight?" he said as he walked behind the bar "If ye wanna take a wizz, theres a giant toilet outside..".
[18:58] Sable Levee smirks as seeing Kira as ears tingle to the sounds of Morbus's tone to just laugh," so might get naked later..." glancing around then while hips rock back and forth walks to the bar to lean debating of finding an perch along it
[19:00] Kiretha Rae heaves a really heavy sigh and frowns a bit at Sable" so sorry I have not been by to say hello lately, been busy" She glances at theman by the door and lifts a brow "Who's your friend?"
[19:02] Memphis Stoop: "So..." he said as he leaned on the counter "What can Muddy'ere do fer ye this fine ev'nin'?"
[19:03] Andrei Vendetta: "Andrei is Andrei and I am Morbus." His voice alternates between high and low tones he would give a slow nod. "we are ... complicated."
[
[19:04] Sable Levee makes an pretty little mocking pout toward Kira," aww and here i thought we were best girlfriends.." rolling eyes as like that is so not true, Nodding head toward Andrei to answer Kira," that is Andrei and he is hungry.." laughing then as attention turns to Mud," I need some hash .."
[19:05] Memphis Stoop looked over Sable's shoulder, having no idea what the man had just said "Hash it is...Any brand in mind ye'd like ta'get fucked on?"
[19:06] Sable Levee just shrugs her shoulders," long as it gives an good high. I promised Andrei nrownies he has an sweet tooth.."
[19:06] Kiretha Rae leans on the bar and smiles, thinking that was a rather odd response the man made, but not really too bothered by it. She just slides on the stool to wait for Mud to finish his business, sipping at her already opened beer muttering "This Salty's stuff is good"
[19:08] Memphis Stoop bopped his head and kneeled down, fetching out a metal box out "Is money an'issue?" he asked then nodded to Kire "Salty's shit is da'bomb..."
[19:08] Andrei Vendetta: "We have seen you before." He would move slowly to stand behind the woman. His head bows slowly to take a deep sniff of her hair. "we remember you."
[19:10] Sable Levee flickering eyes long the box as calculates what credits she has to her boot," whats ya prices?.." even as watches Andrei out of corner of eye
[19:11] Kiretha Rae gets that prickly feeling on her neck when the hair stands on end, shivering a little. Let's face it, the guy had a certain creepiness about him. Turning to face him she smiles "Really, where have you seen me?"
[19:12] Memphis Stoop looked up at the big dark fellah, not liking him one bit "Whoa now bud...Dun'go sniffin'ma peeps like that aight? This aint no meat market an'shit.." he said rather politely "Shitty stuff from da'mainland is 30 creds a gram...Homegrown local shit is 50 creds a gram...If ye wanna make yerself sum'tasty brownies, a'd suggest our homegrown brown..." he said to Sable as he kept his eyes trained on the tall man.
[
[19:14] Andrei Vendetta: His massive mitt of a hand, the size of a child's baseball glove, would lower and try to pinch her shoulder. "hmm.. not much meat on those bones.." he'd turn his head to gaze at her with that crimson eye intently with a gaze that seemed to inwardly peeling theflesh from her face. "The ruins... lastnight... enless we are mistaken." He'd then rise at Mud's words, lifting his hands up in a surrender motion. Morbus would chuckle softly. "Perhaps it would be better if you lot dealt with Andrei...it seems *I* offend.."
[19:17] Kiretha Rae just goes a little wide eyed as he tests her like he is checking a chicken for roasting at th market, not making any move to stop him. SHe tries to keep smiling, but her fear would show in her eyes "I..Talking to Collins?" she stutters
[19:18] Sable Levee head tips slightly as just smirks toward Kira letting her know with the action that if given the word Andrei would rip her apart but just grins at the tall male," That might be best is Andrei talked.." rare afection toward the male in her voice as turns back to Mud," homegrown it is then.." pausing to think," double then I would buy as Abdrei eats alot"
[19:19] Memphis Stoop starred at the man for a long moment, this dude was messed up he thought "Ye kinda'is bud...Now a'dun wan'no Hannibal Lecter shit goin'on in'ere..." he said as he scooped up a baggy filled with his homegrown hash, 2.5 grams of it since Sable was cool in his book "That'll be a hundred creds sunshine.." with that he slided the bag on the counter towards her.
[19:22] Andrei Vendetta: His head drops down, his eyes closing before his pigmentless eye opens and he starts bouncing a bit. "I's get bownies!" Andrei's higher pitched almost child like nieve voice pierces the mask from the white half of the face. He glances to Mud and then t the lady. "Andrei is sorry Morbus is a dick. Andrei tell morbus he is an asshole constantly but he no listen." He then gets distracted again, seemingly having th attention span of a gnat as Andrei. "When Andrei get brownies?"
[19:23] Sable Levee fingers reaching to the top of left boot as the credits are pulled out and counted thinking she have to feed Ston some too as just sighs. Laying them to the counter as scoops up the baggie as fingers stuff it to front of dress between breasts," thanks Mud.." tongue licking along lips before laughing," soon Andrei soon, we will stop and get hambergers on way to my place. Now thank Mud for the good hash.."
[19:25] Memphis Stoop: "Dun'mention it little momma.." he said as he kept his eyes drawn on the big man "Next time a'ma give ye a nice recipe to add with those brownies.." he nodded to Sable as he scooped up the credits, rolling them and placing them inside his pocket.
[19:25] Kiretha Rae's mouth drops open and she just stares at him a few moments before snapping it shut. yeah..this was someone she did not want to piss off and apparently he was Sable's pet..this was not looking good at all. Her eyes flickers with fear as she looked over at Sable with a serious 'what the fuck' look on her face, then she just turned to face Mud and drink, hoping the guy would not try to make a jacket out of her flesh after he skinned her and ate her inttestines or something creepy like that."
[
[19:30] Andrei Vendetta: Like a little kid, or the very least a good little doberman puppy. he at sable's words would look up at Mud and smile broadly, tilting his head in such a way that the light would play across the metal lips to make it seem like he smiled. " Thank you mr mud sir person! Andrei loves brownies, they make Andrei happy. Dun know why but... they make Andrei forget ouchies." He'd then lower his head to look at the girly. "Dun be scared. Andrei harmless... Morbus is the dick." He moves to grab a cigar from his arm band and hand it to her. "Andrei dun like it when people scared of andrei so.... here... have present pretty lady and be happy."
[19:32] Memphis Stoop nodded to the tall man with a forved smile, this dude was giving him the heebies jeebies "Dun'mention it bud...Andrei's a cool peep in'ma'book..."
[19:32] Memphis Stoop: forced*
[19:33] Sable Levee just grins in an soft smirk toward Andrei before looking to Mud," ya will get that next time. Ya all have an good night and I will call ya soon, ya still have to come in for that beer.."
[19:35] Kiretha Rae tries really hard not to hop off the stool and run to hide behind Mud, pasting a smile on her face and nodding at Sable, then turning to the man with the most polite smile she ever had "Nice to meet you"
[19:36] Memphis Stoop: "Aight peepers...Ya'll have fun with those brownies aight? An'remember ta'tell yer friends about us!" he chuckled and waved.
[19:37] "Horus" [Osoth] glances about the area, seemed to be the place. With a quick, rhythmic tapping, he drummed his knuckle on the door and retreating a step, hands stuffing into his pockets while he waited for someone to answer.
[19:37] Andrei Vendetta: As much as Morbus was a sadistic people eating diseased creepy freak. The Andrei personality was as cute and adorably stupid as watching a young puppy chase a light spot on the floor right into thebroadside of a door. when the lady doesn't take his present a beat occurs before he would take another cigar and put them on the bar. He glances to Sable. "Lady Sable... Andrei think Mobus scared them. Andrei think we should leave before they get mean and hurt andrei cause of Mobus bein asshole dick bastard."
[19:39] Sable Levee just looks at Andrei as heading for the door," no worries Andrei no one is gonna harm ya now lets go get some cheeseburgers or mayne an pizza for ya to eat while I make the brownies.." pushing open the door with an last wave toward them
[19:40] Memphis Stoop: "Nah bud, we aint gonna hurt Andrei..." he smiled, a genuine one of course, Mud knew the dude had alot of people inside his brain and did'nt want to get on Morbus's black list. "Its open!" he yelled but then Sable opened the door "C'mon in!"
[19:40] Kiretha Rae just sits in stunned silence drinking her beer, waiting for them to leave so she could breathe again
[19:41] "Horus" [Osoth] shrugged a bit as he heard that call, briefly stepping out of the way of the woman before slipping inside "Evenin' gents, is there a..." he lifted up the card he had gotten "Mud around here?"
[19:44] Memphis Stoop: "Well if yer from da'IRS, Mud aint here..." he smiled some as he leaned on the bar "But if yer here ta'buy some shit, a'be Mud..."
chụp hôm 31 Dec 2010 rồi cơ . mà hôm nay buồn quá . chả có gì làm nên vừa ngồi xem lại Sắc đẹp ngàn cân vừa ngồi lục máy , kiếm ra được 2 tấm này . không đẹp . nhưng vì hết hình rồi nên up đỡ cái này =D .
♥ 08.02.2011 ♥
Mọi chuyện sẽ tiếp tục như thế nào đây ?
There's a whole lotta things that i will forgive
But i just cant take a liar .
i loves my ghosties <333
we're hard asses.
yup.
just like mickey avalon bahahahha
For next to nothin'
Your soul could be mine
Now that I got your attention, look you dead in the eyes
If you're gunna make a move, let it be quick
Because the last mother fucker stuttered and got clipped
I stick and move like a dog in the night
Who proud but won't growl before I'm gun' bite
Street lamps light the way as I stray
Past the corner liquor store and the penny arcade
Juiced on bennys and hard lemonade
I boost so many sweets I've got tooth decay
Who say, that Mickey can't rock your life
I've been up for 2 days straight
and 3 nights
I wear my lee's tight
and tapered at the bottom
I bought them at the swap meet in Spanish Harlem
So if you got a problem
You know where I'm at
Lurkin' in the garden with snakes and gutter rats
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
With eyes on the back of my head after dark
I'm just a lone drifter on the lookout for a mark
I've got angles that'll tangle masterminds with heart
fuck it I'll even run a bum for his shopping cart
When I was young my father, rest in peace
Taught me how to pick a pocket and copy car keys
As a little boy I'd hop through chimneys
Skilled at the art of making enemies
So if you got beef
Better have good luck because
Even if you knock me down, I'll get up
And if you don't kill me
I'm gunna slice your gut
With a straight edge razor
Riddled with rust
Blood lust takes me over when I close my eyes
And look back over these jet black skies
My time here may be short along
So when I rhyme here I'm gunna light this on
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
What you lookin' at punk you don't know me from Adam
And you have the nerve to step on my chucks fuck that
I wasn't brought up to turn the other cheek
I'll break your mothers back, just for touchin' me
I crush MC's with line step line they're mute
Strangalin' triangles, spheres, and cubes
The day old leader throwin' jabs and slabs
Of meat, that hang on hooks and straight stink
Go play the clubs that love to dance
Where chumps step bump me as they walk on past
Avalon don't care none for breasts
Less they cook and clean and wipe my ass
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
At the end of the eve we
Roll up our sleeves
Mess with my stake and I'm gunna have to swing
So don't make nothin' more difficult
Blood starts gushin' when I kick your skull
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
Crazy ill mad rap
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
Crazy ill mad rap
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
Crazy ill mad rap
My attitude is all fucked up and real shitty
Crazy ill mad rap
Repeat after me: Ho, ho, ho!
Since when do you have a stutter, Sven? Holdup isn't that difficult a word.
No, no, this is a festive laughter!
Yeah, the kind of laughter after they gave you all their stuff.
You're getting it all wrong, Olaf. You are supposed to give them...
A good bashing. I can do that!
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
That new religion isn't catching on with Olaf.
Pagan Project Day 3797
When footlights dim in reverence to prescient passion forewarned
My audience leaves the stage, floating ahead perfumed shift
Within the stammering silence, the face that launched a thousand frames
Betrayed by a porcelain tear, a stained career
You played this scene before, you played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, I the mote in your eye
A misplaced reaction
The darkroom unleashes imagination in pornographic images
In which you will always be the star, always be the star, untouchable
Unapproachable, constant in the darkness
Nursing an erection, a misplaced reaction
With no flower to place before this gravestone
And the walls become enticingly newspaper thin
But that would be developing the negative view
And you have to be exposed in voyeuristic colour
The public act, let you model your shame
On the mannequin catwalk, catwalk
Let the cats walk, and the cat walks
I've played this scene before, I've played this scene before
I the mote in your eye, I the mote in your eye
A misplaced reaction, satisfaction
You can't brush me under the carpet, you can't hide me under the stairs
The custodian of your private fears, your leading actor of yesteryear
Who as you crawled out of the alleys of obscurity
Sentenced to rejection in the morass of anonymity
You who I directed with lovers will, you who I let hypnotise the lens
You who I let bathe in the spotlights glare
You who wiped me from your memory like a greasepaint mask
Just like a greasepaint mask
But now I'm the snake in the grass, the ghost of film reels past
I'm the producer of your nightmare and the performance has just begun
It's just begun
Your perimeter of courtiers jerk like celluloid puppets
As you stutter paralysed with rabbits eyes, searing the shadows
Flooding the wings, to pluck elusive salvation from the understudy's lips
Retrieve the soliloquy, maintain the obituary
My cue line in the last act and you wait in silent solitude
Waiting for the prompt, waiting for the prompt
You've played this scene before
With the characteristic stuttering chatter, this Belted Kingfisher dove into the shallow waters of Yaquinna Bay almost always returning with a bit of a meal.
She says she's no good with words but I’m worse
Barely stuttered out
A joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue
And weighed down with words too over-dramatic
Tonight it's "it can't get much worse"
Vs. "no one should ever feel like.."
I’m two quarters and a heart down
And I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds
These words are all I have so I write them
I need them just to get by
We will own your thoughts
We'll own the songs stuck in your head
We'll leave you kicking and screaming so you can thank us in the end
Dance, Dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, Dance
And these are the lives you love to lead
Dance this is the way they'd look
If they knew how misery loved me
(I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me, crawling into bed with me)
You always fold just before you're found out
Drink up its last call
Last resort
But only the first mistake and I...
I’m two quarters and a heart down
And I don’t want to forget how your voice sounds
These words are all i have so I write them
I need them just to get by
Why don't you show me a little bit of spine
You've been saving for his mattress (with love)
Dance, Dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, Dance
And these are the lives you love to lead
Dance this is the way they'd look
If they knew how misery loved me
Why don't you show me a little bit of spine
You've been saving for his mattress (with love)
I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Dance, Dance
Fall Out Boy
Used MotionCam on the ZTE Axon 30 Ultra to create CinemaDNG footage.
This footage is in 10 bit and was later processed in DaVinci Resolve to optimize the dynamic range in the video.
The range for postprocessing is incredible considering that the capture device is just a smartphone.
MotionCam produces a huge amount of data so only smartphones with a very strong CPU and fast memory can handle the resulting data stream.
Not that stuttering on Youtube like here:
The original H.265 (HEVC) clip:
Last year I posted a photo of a Cuckoo with its beak open calling and a friend told me that the RSPB Complete Book of British Birds states that "the male keeps its bill closed when calling". I checked the book and that is indeed what it says, though it was published back in 1988. Well I have watched a lot of Cuckoos and I can say categorically that male Cuckoos do open their bills when calling. In fact they open the bill twice with each syllable. It is opened just a few millimetres for the "cuck", then closed and then opened a smaller amount for the "oo". They open their beak noticeably wider for the first syllable of the stuttering "CUCK-Cuck-oo" and they also open the bill wider for that wonderful wheezy chuckling. If you listen to this recording on Xeno Canto eventually the male gives the trisyllabic Cuck-cuck-oo, and the wheezy chuckling: www.xeno-canto.org/580937 .
I photographed this male in the Peak District last week when there was another male around and a female had given her bubbling call. This male was giving the wheezy chuckle so I managed to capture him with his beak wide open. It's a wonderful call but you can only hear it when the birds are at close range, whereas the cuckoo call can be heard over a mile away. And one final thing; I never knew that adult Cuckoos have orange inside their mouths just like the begging juveniles.
It was a warm, humid day in Barrow town. Without warning, a hard constant thumping noise hammered its way through the fetid air of my apartment, and bored through my being into my very soul. Slowly, I opened the door to be confronted by a figure that could only be described as undernourished, gaunt and bedraggled. “Come with me, and bring your camera”, the stranger uttered, “we’re going for a ride”.
After forcing my way into his unkempt automobile, I was whisked away to a barren, foreboding place that could only be described as ‘the back of beyond’. The stranger began to take photographs of weird, bizarre, disgusting creatures whose ungodly appearance seemed appealing to him somehow.
Eventually, we departed that god-forsaken place, and after he had transported me back to my humble abode he mysteriously uttered the words “The name’s Hock – Damian Hock; now say it back to me, punk”. My throat went dry, and I could only nervously stutter “Gay man’s frock?”, before he was gone, as if transported mysteriously into the ethereal structures that make up the town of Barrow in Furness – the ones that the local council had decided not to demolish at least.
Seriously though folks, this is flickr poster boy ..Damian.., taken on a recent sojourn into the wilds of Walney Island, a few miles outside Barrow. Check out some more of his stuff here, if you haven’t already:- www.flickr.com/photos/26485697@N05/
The dapper Spotted Sandpiper makes a great ambassador for the notoriously difficult-to-identify shorebirds. They occur all across North America, they are distinctive in both looks and actions, and they're handsome. They also have intriguing social lives in which females take the lead and males raise the young. With their richly spotted breeding plumage, teetering gait, stuttering wingbeats, and showy courtship dances, this bird is among the most notable and memorable shorebirds in North America.
Almost 15 years have passed since the Adventurers last saw adventure...
Time has taken its toll and the World has changed.
It is time for Johny Thunder to get
the gang back together!
From left to right:
- Gabarro (lost an eye to the loa loa filariasis worm since we last saw him)
- Pippin "Storm" Reed (still as feisty as ever! Her and Johny had a bit of a thing and still do every now and then)
- Johny Thunder (shaved his moustache off as felt it made him look even older than 15 years ago, plus it made him look like a hipster which Pippin disliked)
- Prof Articus Kilroy (finally toughened up a bit and although still lectures, he prefers working in the field. The fresh air has also gotten rid of his stutter)
- Daisy Kilroy (turns out Prof A Kilroy fathered a daughter many years ago. Daisy comes along with her French Bulldog Philippe. and her husband, Stanford Cunningham)
- Stanford Cunningham (Daisys husband and son-in-law to Prof Kilroy. A gentle soul, 10 years older than Daisy, quite bald and quite wealthy. Often finances the expeditions)
- Baxter Cane (the young son that Harry ended up with after a wild night in Beirut. Raised by Harry with help from Johny, Pippin and Prof, he is as book smart as he is street smart)
- Harry Cane (any tougher and he would rust. Good father, good friend and an even better pilot)
Old Glasgow cinema. Used as a bingo hall in the 1970s and then a warehouse before lying empty & falling into disrepair. Redevelopment stutters along. It has been dormant for a few years. A 1st floor has been put in. The old roof trusses here reminded me of Buddhist temples
An old preacher will appear just before our last breath
Saying "Whoever believes the word, they shall not taste death"
Still we stutter and we stammer and we fall down on our knees
As desperate a real estate agent at the Salton Sea...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'd have to be at the end of my rope to take up residency at the Salton Sea...
Kansas (Kaw) River, Lawrence, Kansas--a photo taken and uploaded two years ago, now with a significant upgrade (slowly, slowly, I continue to get better at digital processing). Since my hard drive is in the shop right now, the last few days I've just been upgrading older images like this one.
Best viewed in lightbox, i.e., click on expand arrows at upper right.
A sunset experienced last summer (2022) from the Kansas River Bridge. Sunsets are known for their ephemeral natures, so as I was driving over said bridge, I knew I had to find a parking place pronto, which I did on the north end at Johnny's Tavern. I then grabbed my camera bag and at full sprint, retraced my "steps," which was about 400 meters. It's been a good while since a sprinted 400 meters, so I was definitely out of breath. As you see, I managed to capture the scene before it evanesced to nothing. Not wanted to use a high ISO, I used the railing along the bridge to help steady my hand, and--out of breath or no--held my breath for each shot.
This is a Pano combining four photos.
The map here identifies the place as "Lawrence, Lawrence, Kansas." It isn't like NY, NY--it wasn't named by a stutterer, it's just plain "Lawrence, KS."
On a walk through the forest you might spot rows of shallow holes in tree bark. In the East, this is the work of the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, an enterprising woodpecker that laps up the leaking sap and any trapped insects with its specialized, brush-tipped tongue. Attired sharply in barred black-and-white, with a red cap and (in males) throat, they sit still on tree trunks for long intervals while feeding. To find one, listen for their loud mewing calls or stuttered drumming.
Taken at Sunny‘s Photo Studio
„North Pole“ - Own Pose
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Sunny%20Photo%20Studio/140...
Soundgarden - "Black hole sun"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mbBbFH9fAg
In my eyes, indisposed
In disguises no one knows
Hides the face, lies the snake
And the sun in my disgrace
Boiling heat, summer stench
′Neath the black the sky looks dead
Call my name through the cream
And I'll hear you scream again
Black hole sun, won′t you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun, won't you come?
Won't you come? Won′t you come?
Stuttering, cold and damp
Steal the warm wind, tired friend
Times are gone for honest men
Sometimes far too long for snakes
In my shoes, walking sleep
In my youth, I pray to keep
Heaven send hell away
No one sings like you anymore
Black hole sun, won′t you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun, won't you come?
Won′t you come?
Black hole sun, won't you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun, won′t you come?
Won't you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won′t you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Hang my head, drown my fear
Till you all just disappear
Black hole sun, won′t you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun, won′t you come?
Won't you come?
Black hole sun, won′t you come
And wash away the rain?
Black hole sun, won't you come?
Black hole sun, black hole sun
Black hole sun, black hole sun
Won′t you come? (Black hole sun, black hole sun)
Black hole sun, black hole sun
Won't you come?
Yeah
Come?
Black hole sun, black hole sun
A few days before Christmas I met up with my brother at Monyash (with No. 1 son in tow) for a walk in Lathkill Dale. Forecast wasn't wonderful (it was cold and frosty and this was as much sun as we saw all day) but we'd been planning a walk for a while and were concerned. that another Covid lockdown could scupper a visit over the Christmas period. A 13 mile walk was good for the soul, as was finding a tea shop open in Youlgreave
On the whole 2021 hasn't been wonderful and the future looks uncertain. My father passed away a few months ago and my job is stuttering along. I'm not ready yet for retirement and would rather live a 100 miles further north when it happens. Until then I'll have to keep my close allegiance to the M1 for the journey north. At least the Peak District will be there, even if it's not sunny
Looking at downtown GreenCove Springs from the city pier. The perfect spacing of waves really looked neat to me.
Soundgarden - Black Hole Sun
In my eyes, indisposed
In disguises no one knows
Hides the face, lies the snake
The sun in my disgrace
Boiling heat, summer stench
'Neath the black the sky looks dead
Call my name through the cream
And I'll hear you scream again
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come (won't you come)
Stuttering, cold and damp
Steal the warm wind tired friend
Times are gone for honest men
And sometimes far too long for snakes
In my shoes, a walking sleep
And my youth I pray to keep
Heaven sent hell away
No one sings like you anymore
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Hang my head, drown my fear
Till you all just disappear
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come
Black hole sun
Won't you come
And wash away the rain
Black hole sun
Won't you come
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come (black hole sun, black hole sun)
Won't you come
Won't you come
Writers: CHRIS CORNELL
Jill
blubbering’s not on her list
she smiles at even simple jests
the epitome of what we should be
to laugh, enjoy each passing day
though sometimes she can get the jitters
she stays calm and doesn’t stutter
though she tumbled and hurt her back
she’s not as careless as her partner Jack
/totomai
----------
PS a very old poem I wrote ;-)
As Walter adeptly hurdled the rainbow canoes in headlong flight from the deadly giant swans, he thought to himself, "When I get to the Frog King I'll stutter left, hesitate, and then go breakneck left all out."
The dapper Spotted Sandpiper makes a great ambassador for the notoriously difficult-to-identify shorebirds. They occur all across North America, they are distinctive in both looks and actions, and they're handsome. They also have intriguing social lives in which females take the lead and males raise the young. With their richly spotted breeding plumage, teetering gait, stuttering wingbeats, and showy courtship dances, this bird is among the most notable and memorable shorebirds in North America.
Colorblind by Counting Crows: This Desert Life
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am
Taffy stuck, tongue tied
Stuttered shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding
I am
colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am...fine
I am.... fine
I am fine
**********************************************************************************************
I have always loved this Counting Crows song---just everything about it really.
When I am driving around for work and listening to CC, I often visualize how to illustrate the lyrics with images. I have had this one in mind for a long time but , I guess I have been too lazy to take the images myself. I don't like coffee! So, I am grateful that I was able to find these wonderful and illustrative images right here on flickr. thank you!
1. black coffee, 2. balance
Bears aren’t the only animals to see in Orr, Minnesota. On a quiet afternoon, my attention was drawn to the unmistakable stuttering drum of the yellow-bellied sapsucker. Yellow-bellied sapsuckers are the only sapsucker in the eastern portions of the United States, making them simple to identify once you note the difference between the regular rhythmic drumming of other woodpeckers and the staccato drumming of this bird. They earned their name from their peculiar characteristic of pecking holes just deep enough into the trees to cause sap to drip. They then lap up the sap and any entrapped insects. It’s a beautiful bird with a beat all its own. #YellowBelliedSapsucker
March 27, 2025, Rondeau Provincial Park, Ontario, Canada.
Song sparrows have been regular visitors to the yard for the last 2-3 weeks.
This one took the opportunity to have a bath.
Melospiza melodiat
It perches on a low shrub, leans back, and sings a stuttering, clattering song.
Anthem for Doomed Youth
by Wilfred Owen
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle ?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them ; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, ―
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells ;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all ?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall ;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds
Location: Primitive Design-The Bunker
Pose: Niqotine
Gun: C-Tech Redemption mk 4.3