View allAll Photos Tagged unhinged
On December 18, 2019, Donald Trump became the third president of the United States to be impeached. The process was marked by extreme partisanship and, as expected, the President's reaction quick and angry.
In a rally he held in Michigan that night, he seemed even more unhinged than normal. This culminated in a mean take-down of former Michigan Representative John Dingell, the longest member to serve in Congress in the history of our country (59 years), by suggesting he was looking up at us from hell. Even the highly partisan crowd of Trump supporters voiced their disapproval.
Dingell's widow, Debbie, who now occupies her husband's seat and voted for impeachment, was visibly upset by Trump's reckless comments. In a tweet she stated:
"Mr. President, let’s set politics aside. My husband earned all his accolades after a lifetime of service. I’m preparing for the first holiday season without the man I love. You brought me down in a way you can never imagine and your hurtful words just made my healing much harder."
Condemnation of Trump's words from both sides of the aisle, were swift.
On January 1, 2018, I made the poster below. I wasn't convinced Trump should be impeached, but there was a zeitgeist floating around that his demeanor could become a national security risk.
Trump's phone call to Ukraine's President Zelensky on July 25, 2019 changed that, culminating in his impeachment . So, I have updated the poster.
See the rest of the posters from the Chamomile Tea Party! Digital high res downloads are free here (click the down arrow on the lower right side of the image). Other options are available. And join our Facebook group.
Follow the history of our country's political intransigence from 2010-2018 through a six-part exhibit of these posters on Google Arts & Culture.
...and against the full Moon :)
And for some reason I had tried to use "Polar realign" option of NEQ-6 controller. Never ever touch this button again!!!
Acquisition time: 20.08.2016 22:40 MSK
Equipment:
QHY5L-IIm powered by QHY EZPlanetary on Celestron OMNI XLT 150 mm Newtonian riding and bouncing on the back of galloping Skywatcher NEQ-6 Pro mount.
Aperture 150 mm
Focal length 750 mm
Tv = 5 seconds :(
Av = f/5
Gain... Infinite!
Exposures: some percent of some tens of 5 sec (plus 20 respective dark frames and 50 1 mks offset frames).
Processing: FIT images were fed to DSS. Stacked image was processed in photoshop by increasing gamma to something, brutally clipping black to 45 out of 256 and adding MOAR! gamma, up to almost infinity, again... :)
I had to revisit it...
Flickr added "outdoor" tag... Well, it is very-very outdoor object :)
The villainous Gang of 4 threatens the very foundation of our sanctified capitalist society. Those unhinged left-wing socialist rabble-rousers wish to open our country to the dark forces of evil. Don't listen to their treasonous and hateful ideas of universal health care and harebrained measures to stop man-caused climate change. Cover your ears and shut your eyes. Erect fences, lock your doors and close your minds!!!!
This photo was taken by a Kowa/SIX medium format film camera with a Kowa 1:4/40mm lens and Kowa Y48•2C(Y2) ø95S filter using Ilford XP2Super 400 film, the negative scanned by an Epson Perfection V600 and digitally rendered with Photoshop.
We have been told by our leader to fear leftwing, antifa socialists in the same way that we were once told to take alarm in an arising communist hegemony. It looks like it is just a bad paint job in the final analysis.
This photo was taken by a Asahi Pentax 6 X 7 medium format film camera and Super Multi-Coated Takumar/6X7 1:4.5/75mm lens with a B+W UV 82mm filter using Kodak Ektar 100 film, the negative scanned by an Epson Perfection V600 and digitally rendered with Photoshop.
Tie a yellow ribbon round his wee mushroom and the Paedo Of The United States gas bag floats outside the US Embassy at Nine Elms. One day soon POTUS will hopefully pop before his puffed pride destroys us all.
Malignant narcissist asshole fascists, don’t you hate them?
And for the record, MAGA should remember that the first leader of the American ANTIFA movement was one Franklin Delano Roosevelt supported by hundreds of thousands of American service personnel who gave their lives in World War 2 precisely to stop fascism and to stop the rise in the United States of such a fascistic corrupt criminal anti-constitutional cabal of crooks, cooks and creeps as now enable a demented felon POTUS.
Trump revels in being the First King of America literally shitting on his nation as evidenced by the absolutely extraordinary unhinged video Trump posted as a riposte to No Kings Day, doing precisely that.
or will it? — Did the rejection of the McCain/Palin ticket open the door for a more gradual continuing slide on the slippery slope toward fascism in America?
This is How Fascism Comes: Reflections on the Cost of Silence
from the article: "If fascism comes it will be interviewed, lovingly, on talk radio, by hosts whose cerebral inadequacies are more than made up for by their bellicosity, their bombast, their willingness to shout down those with whom they cannot argue, for argument requires knowledge, and this is a commodity with which they have not even a passing familiarity."
Here's the whole article [linked above]:
by Tim Wise
October 11, 2008, 7:26 pm
For those who have seen the ugliness and heard the vitriol emanating from the mouths of persons attending McCain/Palin rallies this past week--what with their demands to kill Barack Obama, slurs that he is a terrorist and a traitor, and paranoid delusions about his crypto-Muslim designs on America--please know this: This is how fascism comes to an ostensible democracy.
If it comes--and if those whose poisonous, unhinged verbiage has been so ubiquitous this week have any say over it, it surely will--this is how it will happen: not with tanks and jackbooted storm troopers, but carried in the hearts of men and women dressed in comfortable shoes, with baseball caps, and What Would Jesus Do? wristbands. It will be heralded by up-dos, designer glasses, you-betcha folksiness and a disdain for big words or hard consonants.
If fascism comes, it will spring from the soil of middle America, from people known as values voters but whose values are toxic, from simple folk whose simplicity, far from being admirable, is better labeled ignorance, from "all-American" types whose patriotism is a dagger pointed at the very heart of the national interest, for it so forsakes all the best principles upon which the republic was founded, choosing instead to elevate and ratify the narrow-mindedness, the bigotry, and the intolerance that also marked our country's origins.
If fascism comes, it will be ushered in by tailgaters at the big football game, by Joe Six Pack, who, upon finishing his sixth beer and belching forth the stench of a mediocre life lived, will gladly announce its arrival, so long as it comes with a steady supply of Pabst Blue Ribbon and hot dogs on the grill, and giant foam hands with a "We're Number 1" finger, some Mardi Gras beads and a good titty bar.
If fascism comes it will dress like a hockey mom, or a NASCAR dad. It will believe Toby Keith to be an artist, Larry the Cable Guy to be a comic, and that the world was made in six literal days less than 6000 years ago.
If fascism comes it will come from the small towns; the ones Sarah Palin, quoting a famous racist and Jew-hater, said "grow good people," and which occasionally do, but which, just as often grow provincial, isolated, fearful and superstitious ones.
If fascism comes it will come from faux populism, from anti-immigrant hysteria, from persons who have more guns in their homes than books, or whose books, when they have them, are principally volumes of the Left Behind series, several different copies of the Bible, and a plethora of romance novels.
If fascism comes it will be welcomed, lock stock and barrel by persons who pray at every meal to a God they visualize as white, whose son they also think was white, and who they believe is going to rapture them all into the sky upon the blowing of some heavenly trumpet, after which point all those who don't think as they think will be burned in an eternal lake of fire. Their vision and version of God is itself fascistic--to love a God who would do such a thing is to love an abusive, sadistic and evil deity after all--so it should come as little surprise that their conception of the state would be equally authoritarian or worse.
If fascism comes it will be at the behest of those who hold a contempt for what they call "book learnin," who prefer Presidents who mispronounce basic words because they make them feel smarter, and who are looking for nothing so much as a commander-in-chief with whom they would enjoy having a beer, or two, or twelve at some backyard barbecue.
If fascism comes it will be interviewed, lovingly, on talk radio, by hosts whose cerebral inadequacies are more than made up for by their bellicosity, their bombast, their willingness to shout down those with whom they cannot argue, for argument requires knowledge, and this is a commodity with which they have not even a passing familiarity.
If fascism comes it will come wrapped in red,white and blue, carrying a crucifix and a shotgun, projecting its own sexual confusion and insecurity onto others, substituting volume for veracity and rage for reason, and landing on the New York Times best-seller list as a result.
If fascism comes it will have a pajama party at Ann Coulter's house, pop pills with Rush Limbaugh, and go gay-bashing with Michael Savage, all in the same weekend. And it will refuse to learn another language or get a passport, because doing either of those would make one cosmopolitan--which is just another word for "faggot."
If fascism comes it will come because a lot of people who aren't like the folks I'm talking about here, won't stand up to the ones who are. Because we're too busy, don't want to make waves, don't want to lose friends, or alienate family. It will come, in other words, because those who know better are cowards, more concerned with getting along, making nice, and being liked than with telling the truth, calling out evil and saving their country.
If fascism comes it will come because of the silence, and thus, collaboration of those who think themselves good, and certainly superior to the knuckle-draggers they can see on YouTube at the McCain rallies, but who in the end are no better and in some ways worse than they: after all, at least fascists stand up for what they believe in. They are telling us, in no uncertain terms what kind of United States they want and are willing to fight for, and maybe even to kill for. But many "progressives," many liberals, many of the so-called enlightened are doing nothing at all.
If fascism comes it will come because those liberals thought voting for Barack Obama was all they needed to do; it will come because they allowed themselves to believe that politics is what a person does every four years, but not at work, and not in the neighborhood, and not at the dinner table. Meanwhile, know-nothings filled with hate, nurtured on racial and religious bigotry and who have overdosed on the kind of hypernationalism that has always proved fatal to those places foolish or craven enough to allow it a foothold, talk of their visions for America at every opportunity. They raise their kids on that sickness, they build churches whose very foundation is rooted in that cancerous rot, and they will think nothing of steamrolling those who get in their way.
So when, exactly, do we fight back? When do we say enough? When do we stand up to our relative or friend who sends us the e-mail about Obama being a Manchurian Candidate or al-Qaeda sympathizer, or the one about the decency of Midwestern flood victims as opposed to those stranded after Katrina, or about how God was punishing New Orleans because of its tolerance of homosexuality, and tell them what we think: namely, that they are a bunch of racist, heterosexist loons, whose friendship or familial connection we neither want nor intend to pursue unless they get help. When do we decide that we love our country and humanity too much to allow these people one more day of decent sleep, one more day of self-assured confidence in their craziness and the willingness of the rest of us to just take it? When do we decide that every irrational, Jeezoid, racist thing that comes from their mouths will be attacked, will be rebutted, until they can no longer take for granted the ability to say any of it in mixed company without being called out?
Why, in the face of the fascism they would surely introduce if given the chance, are we intent on being so nice? Why are we not more offended? Offended not merely at what such persons say about others--like Obama, or Latino immigrants, or whatever--but even about we who look like them? After all, their open exhortations of racism presuppose that they are speaking for us, and that this kind of brain-dead ventilation is something to which all white folks should aspire as though it were virtually the essence of enlightenment.
If fascism comes it will come because we did not see in their actions a sufficient threat, or because we allowed ourselves to believe that it couldn't come, that our institutions were too strong, our people too good, for that to happen. If it comes it will come because we allowed ourselves to believe the rosy and optimistic version of America spun by Obama, without tempering that optimism with a clear-headed appraisal of the way that (sadly) a still huge number of Americans actually think: because we allowed the vehicle of our hopes to outrun the headlights of truth; because we convinced ourselves that we actually lived in the country of our aspirations, rather than the nation we have at present.
And if fascism doesn't come--if, rather, democracy does--it will come because good people said no. It will come because we saw in this moment the opportunity to demand the full measure of our humanity and to pour it forth upon the national soil. It will be because we understood that democracy isn't what you have, it's what you do. But if we are to issue that demand, if we are to stand straight and fulfill the potential we possess to do justice, we had best exercise the option quickly, for the opponents of justice are on the move. They are preparing to enter on the winds of our silence and indifference, and complacency. Let them find no quarter here.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
"Every ruin has its keeper — and this one bites back."
Born from silence, baptized in lightning, the Black Maw prowls the shattered halls of forgotten empires. Its obsidian hide crackles with violet fury, each vein pulsing like molten thunder. Eyes burn with primal rage, jaws unhinge to spill storms into the dark.
The ruins do not shelter it.
The ruins are its throne.
Inspired by a reference image, reimagined in my own style.
...
...
...
"Come on, J'onn, wake up! Come on! You've got more fight in you than that!"
...
"COME ON!"
SMACK
"GAH!"
I crack my eyes open, and see dark locks of matted hair suspended over my face. Attempting to raise my arm in some sort of defence, a sharp stinging pain shoots up my arm, and I look down at myself to see a horrendous cluster of bloody scars.
"Good. I though I'd lost you there for a moment."
He steps back into the shadows as I cast my mind back to previous events.
I remember M'gann and I being taken, then spilt up, then Arx'an talking of Ma'alefa'ak, and then... Torture.
-WHIP-
I let out a shrill cry as Arx'an brings a frayed whip down on my chest, then look Arx'an in the eyes.
"Where... Where are we?"
He raises his arm, ready to bring the whip back down on my already slashed skin, then halts.
He raises an eyebrow, then smirks.
"You really don't remember, do you?"
I go to nod, but a stabbing pain in my spine causes me to give up on that enterprise and gasp.
"Ha!"
He leans over to me.
"You were never told about the Manhunter interrogation rooms, were you?"
"N... No."
He stands back up, laying his whip down on a table behind him and going for his sword.
"Then live and learn."
At the sight of his sword swinging through the air, another agonizing pain, this time in my arm, sends me into a darkened stupor.
...
...
...
"J'onn. J'onn! J'ONN!"
I pant as I open my eyes, again looking Arx'an straight in the eyes.
"Wh...Wh...Ah..."
He pushes himself backwards, cradling his bloody sword with some sort of maniacal obsession.
"It's good to see you awake. I was beginning to think you wouldn't."
He picks something up out of a metal crate in the shadows of the room, then begins lining the room with strange objects.
"I'm going to be leaving you for a while. I have... Never mind."
He finishes lining the room with his objects, then heads towards the door.
"Now I've left you with a little something, just to keep you calm. You remember those old weapons the White Martians used to use against us in the wars? The fire mines?"
He looks down at the ground, and I am suddenly flooded with old memories of the Martian Wars, and our particular weakness to fire.
"It turns out the authorities were hiding a generous supply in the Manhunter armouries."
He pushes the door open slowly, letting in a sliver of white light from outside, then gives me a vile grin.
"And after all we went through, we didn't want to let them go to waste."
He walks out of the room, speaking just before he pulls the door shut behind him:
"Sweet dreams J'onn."
Almost on cue as Arx'an leaves, the fire mines dotted around the room all erupt and begin to spout flames into the air.
I go to phase out through the floor of the room, but a mixture of fire and Arx'an's torture causes me to slump back down onto the cool table beneath me, defeated.
The flames render my abilities... Useless.
"Come... on... Pull... yourself..."
The flames in the room increase in intensity, and as they do, a ringing echoes through my ears, and my eyelids begin to drop.
As I fall back into another unhinged trance, all I can think of is Earth, and Saul... And Ethan... And M'gann... And... And... And...
Unhinged Set
Detailed strapped top, skirt, and stompers.
Available in 7 single colors, 3 fatpack exclusives and metal HUD
Rigged for Reborn/Juicy Boobs/Waifu, Legacy, Lara X
Demo available
TP: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/eBody/49/158/23
Mainstore: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Baja%20Sands/199/127/25
I found this little cabin today. I've been by it many times before but didn't see it because it was buried in the woods. The only reason i saw it was because the timber had recently been cut around it. It was probably built in the 1850's or earlier and the more i look at it, i think it may have been a little chapel that was converted into a house!
I love the little box stairways and this was one of the more treacherous ones i've been up in a while.
Halifax County, North Carolina
I've been back to this house after this photo was taken, and the doors and windows have all been boarded up.
Ah, one of the local Maryland Vacciniums. Vase shaped with a pistil packed with pollen that must be shaken out of a pore (that a lot of alliteration waiting to be exploited, but am feeling kind today, so won't). Anyway there are several Vacc specialist out there many with long heads to better reach into these flowers to get there nectar reward (Andrena bradleyi and Colletes validus are good examples). These species also know how to unhinge their wings to vibrate out the pollen (side bar: honey bees do not know how to do this and thus are not the best at pollinating blueberries unless you put in 1 billion of them.). Not sure of species here, but Helen Lowe Metzman took the picture.
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All photographs are public domain, feel free to download and use as you wish.
Photography Information:
Canon Mark II 5D, Zerene Stacker, Stackshot Sled, 65mm Canon MP-E 1-5X macro lens, Twin Macro Flash in Styrofoam Cooler, F5.0, ISO 100, Shutter Speed 200
We Are Made One with What We Touch and See
We are resolved into the supreme air,
We are made one with what we touch and see,
With our heart's blood each crimson sun is fair,
With our young lives each spring impassioned tree
Flames into green, the wildest beasts that range
The moor our kinsmen are, all life is one, and all is change.
- Oscar Wilde
You can also follow us on Instagram - account = USGSBIML
Want some Useful Links to the Techniques We Use? Well now here you go Citizen:
Best over all technical resource for photo stacking:
Free Field Guide to Bee Genera of Maryland:
bio2.elmira.edu/fieldbio/beesofmarylandbookversion1.pdf
Basic USGSBIML set up:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-_yvIsucOY
USGSBIML Photoshopping Technique: Note that we now have added using the burn tool at 50% opacity set to shadows to clean up the halos that bleed into the black background from "hot" color sections of the picture.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bdmx_8zqvN4
Bees of Maryland Organized by Taxa with information on each Genus
www.flickr.com/photos/usgsbiml/collections
PDF of Basic USGSBIML Photography Set Up:
ftp://ftpext.usgs.gov/pub/er/md/laurel/Droege/How%20to%20Take%20MacroPhotographs%20of%20Insects%20BIML%20Lab2.pdf
Google Hangout Demonstration of Techniques:
plus.google.com/events/c5569losvskrv2nu606ltof8odo
or
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4c15neFttoU
Excellent Technical Form on Stacking:
Contact information:
Sam Droege
sdroege@usgs.gov
301 497 5840
I don’t like the expression on my face. I look aggressive? Unhinged comes to mind tho I think that’s a bit melodramatic and who tf put that in my mind. I feel like I was going for cute bohemian peasant and it’s giving I watch you from the darkness creepily. Oh well. It’s still my face
Some current bus news courtesy of Alan Wickens.
Appears in the August 2018 edition of the UK magazine, 'Buses'.
END OF THE FRIENDLY ROAD
Published in the Sunday Star-Times, 22 July 2018
NakedBus and ManaBus ceased operations on Sunday, 15 July, leaving a big hole in the travel options for a number of upset customers.
Jess McAllen took the final journey that Sunday.
The bus driver welcomes new passengers to the last leg of the last journey.
"When this coach pulls into Wellington, that's it," he says. "There are no more ManaBus services."
It's 6.20pm on a Sunday in Palmerston North and the red double-decker is packed. Jinnie Potter, who boarded at Taupo, sits downstairs, propping her foot up on the seat opposite. She recently had surgery.
Next to her are students Jess Rogers and Josh Tong, who at six foot four is very happy to have some extra space for his legs. The pair paid $35 for their trip from Palmerston North to Wellington.
People are charging phones, sleeping, listening to music, and doing the glare that says no one should even think about sitting next to them.
ManaBus has its roots in NakedBus, a brand it later owned. When NakedBus launched in 2006, it completely changed the long distance bus world – then dominated by InterCity – with dirt cheap $1 fares and online booking.
A month ago, ManaBus announced they would be ceasing all long distance trips.
This shocked loyal customers – those who can't or won't shell out for plane tickets, live in parts of New Zealand that don't have airports, or simply like meeting new people and seeing the countryside. The industry's slide back into monopoly is seen by insiders as a symptom of wider problems with the way our economy works.
Potter started using NakedBus back when it first started and 'points' could be turned into bus tickets.
"They were almost minivan things. They were really cheap and chonky... the guy setting up was running everything on a shoestring and there were a few kerfuffles when buses broke down."
Her love for the buses has had its ups and downs. Potter had a brief stint of travelling with Air New Zealand on the 2011-2013 standby fare scheme, when you could get half price tickets 30 minutes before a flight. This was appealing since JetStar doesn't fly to Taupo.
Then in 2015 ManaBus bought NakedBus and brought in red double deckers that were"slow". The red beasts had to battle the wind.
Earlier that Sunday, 22-year-old property manager Jessica Montgomerie and her friend Deena, sit on the back seat of the last ever ManaBus from Wellington to Auckland. They flew down on Friday night for a 21st, choosing the bus for the return journey as its $28 ticket was much more friendly than a $150 airfare.
Montgomerie grew up in Taupo and regularly bussed the five-hour journey to Auckland and back when she moved.
"I've never actually been on Intercity because it's just too expensive. They don't have the tables or sleepers either," Montgomerie says.
She's on the middle seat, which has become unhinged and is wobbling precariously. The bus jolts as she mutters "Oh my god, 10 more hours".
After today, she'll probably transfer to planes.
"I don't mind spending a little bit more," she says, noting InterCity prices are almost as much as a JetStar ticket – sometimes more expensive – and if she's going to spend a chunk of her time on a bus, it needs to be low cost.
LOYAL FANS
When Sunil Prasad moved to New Zealand from Fiji in 2016, he loved the ManaBus and NakedBus trips from his wife's relatives' home in Auckland to visit his sister in Tauranga.
The fare was "heaps cheaper" compared to Intercity, saving as much as $11 to $15 each way.
That year, for the six months he spent looking, interviewing for, and finally getting a job – only to have to wait three more months for a work visa – he travelled almost 25 times with the company.
"Now my family is here from Fiji and I thought one day during my holidays I'll take them to Tauranga in ManaBus and tour all the areas of Tauranga. I love that place" he says.
"I loved to see the country life and would always sit on the upper deck, right in the front seat for a clearer, full view of beautiful New Zealand nature."
The drivers were friendly and helped with his luggage. The buses came on time and didn't break down . They would "let us get fresh breath, stopping a few minutes in each town on its way".
He used to be afraid the bus would tumble across the Karangahake Gorge bends at its high speeds, but that faded when he noticed they were designed with four wheels at the rear.
"I only wish that ManaBus still provided services. I'm sad from inside. There are many out there who were loyal to ManaBus."
Throughout high school, Imogen Hull, 20, used ManaBus to visit friends throughout the North Island "without spending a fortune".
"I began to sit with strangers and start conversation to pass time. I've been told war stories, tales of world travel, been given career advice, and had a job offer for a finance job in Melbourne once I finish uni."
In June 2016, she took the bus from Wellington to Taupo. There were only two seats left and she sat next to Ed Hounsell. They chatted for eight hours and became close friends.
"We need more services like this, not fewer. Many people from all walks of life rely on affordable transport to visit friends and family. It creates the opportunity to slow down, enjoy the scenery and maybe even meet your new best friend."
Last year, when Murray Waring booked the ManaBus from Bombay to Hamilton to see his aunt, he was interested to see how they would respond to the manual wheelchair he uses to get around with his Cerebral Palsy.
"I was pleasantly surprised to discover the double decker bus had a fold out ramp at the back door, along with a tie down space for my wheelchair.
The driver was "very accommodating and welcoming". He helped Waring on and off the bus, tying his wheelchair down before they left and untying it when they arrived.
"I was hooked, as it meant I had more long distance travel options on the routes the double deckers operated on."
An InterCity spokesman says they had recently acquired several double-decker buses with ramp access and a wheelchair seating area, which will being operating soon.
THE DISRUPTOR
Hamish Nuttall launched NakedBus in October 2006.
On the first day, it carried three people – all at $1 – and Nuttall's son was the first customer. It started in the North Island, with three routes, and grew into a national network by 2007. NakedBus grew to 40 per cent of the whole market in eight years, while the market itself grew by 70 per cent over that time. Some 30 percent were tourists.
InterCity had to respond the new player. Many viewed the competition as healthy. Then it got legal.
On February 17, 2014, the Auckland High Court ruled NakedBus had infringed InterCity's trademark. The ruling said NakedBus ran adverts on Google that would respond to searchers for 'InterCity' and which promoted NakedBus buses as "inter city" in both advertisements and on the website.
Nuttall says, if he had a do-over, he'd avoid "that court situation".
"It didn't cost us a lot of money," Nuttall says. "But it really distracted us from...look, I wouldn't do it again. Although we thought it was important at the time to be able to advertise against what we considered a generic term, what it actually did was just distract us from providing better services.
"We probably took our eye off the ball for a year, which was - lesson learnt, I guess."
When ManaBus - part of the InMotion group that owns Fullers ferry, which is owned by Scottish bus baron Sir Brian Souter - arrived on the scene in October 2014, both InterCity and NakedBus welcomed the competition.
Not long after, ManaBus bought out NakedBus. Nuttall was appointed managing director. Two months later he quit.
"I'd put my heart into NakedBus for eight years," he says, "We developed into a really successful business and I decided that selling it to someone else...that was probably the time to leave."
Nuttall, now chief executive at Think Lazy, a consultancy firm, was saddened to hear the services were stopping.
"It was a really great ride – excuse the pun. We were carrying 700,000 customers a year and they were what made it worthwhile."
He recalls an old lady in Hastings with grandchildren living in Palmerston North. She couldn't afford to visit until the $1 tickets came along.
"She wrote to thank us for that because she was able to get out of Hastings to visit her family.
"That kind of thing made it all worthwhile".
BUS WARS
There's a big dust-up going on in the wider bus industry, and the demise of ManaBus and NakedBus is the latest casualty, says First Union's Graham McKean.
The use of the Public Transport Operating Model (PTOM) to award contracts began rolling out in the past couple of years as old contracts expire. The model aims for public transport to operate in a fully commercial manner with a decreased reliance on subsidies.
This tendering process makes bus companies compete against each other for available routes. PTOM was brought in by the National Government in 2013, and can be linked to the change in contract for the new Wellington bus services, which reportedly caused chaos this week. In May striking Pavlovich drivers called for an alternative tendering model.
The cost of buses, diesel, and infrastructure are largely the same, McKean says. The one variable is the wages.
"The likes of Ritchies, who are one of the parent companies of Intercity, they've been awarded greater runs...effectively their competitive advantage is to pay like a dollar an hour less than the market rate.
"What you're seeing now in the long-haul side of the bus industry is these other companies can't compete."
It's not just the bus industry, he says, it applies to the whole government structure.
"Things are being competitively tendered, forcing cost efficiencies and the lack of reinvestment. You're getting that in schools, hospitals. The little conversation about InterCity, NakedBus and ManaBus reverberates right through the whole of New Zealand society".
A ManaBus spokesperson said Fullers Group (owned by InMotion) was focusing on its ferry operation and servicing the increasing visitors at Hauraki Gulf.
"Consequently, it has sold its ManaBus.com and nakedbus.com fleet to transport coach and bus specialists, Ritchies Transport Holdings."
What's happening in the long-haul side of the bus industry, McKean says, is "these other companies can't compete."
She talks about biting the bullet and paying the $100 airplane fares to get to Taupo. It depends what happens with petrol. You can't drive to Taupo for $33, you could for $64 though (the average price of other bus tickets). Maybe, when she's recovered from surgery, it will get to that point.
Her parents used to come down on NakedBus and driver Paul was a highlight.
"In a previous life he'd been a policeman and he ended up going back to it...he was really, really neat. He used to look after my mum and dad really well.
"I've met some interesting people and passengers,it makes the time go quicker. These days most people put their headphones on or put their head into their cellphones and get into social media," she says as she whips out her old brick phone.
Outside the McDonald's stop in Wellington, passengers disembark. Potter's friend picks her up and the driver checks the bus for belongings, warning: "It will be a while before you can claim them". A desolate pink pram sticks out of the luggage area.
"Is this anyone's?" he asks.
Blank faces.
As he walks away, a passenger, perhaps looking for a cheeky freebie, half-heartedly says, "Oh yeah, yeah, it's mine". - Stuff
this is how their fans perceived the Argentina team at the 2002 World Cup after they whimpered out.
I don't think they will suffer this time round.........
Friday Froth….
…skipping past Thursday which didn’t have a credible alliteration (‘ Thursday Thoughts’ was a wee bit over glorification for an entry title)
This entry will update as the day goes on….I’m debating whether to continue in notes format or do a referral to my Flickr site which at least means I can put up as little or as much as I feel like…. I’ll see how my mood goes. At least with Flickr I can have a picture as a starting point to bubble on about. I’ve made my OD ‘members read only’ when I’m offshore as I don’t want the next guy to sit down at the machine to check ‘history’ and see what I’ve been posting…I don’t want my colleagues confirming their suspicions that I’m an unhinged idiot.
That pre-amble has made the decision – Flickr it is and a big long ramble – as inspired by the Marvellous Mind-boggling Wisconsin Convenience Store Queen…(thank you very much, Tae, for that quiz this morning which made me late for my bowl o’porridge)
So it’s Friday morning, day nine of fourteen, the weather is mild and bright and I have a ‘to do’ list that would fear normal men, but I have a good tactic of hiding it in a drawer and ignoring it, then cruising through the day on whims and mood swings. It’s worked reasonably OK for the past 30 years, why change now?
Already this morning I’ve been part of the Helideck team to transfer an engineer from here to a neighbouring platform. Instead of our normal Super Puma ‘ North Sea Bus’ type of helicopter, it was one of those ‘whup whup whup’ Vietnam War type Flying Cement Mixers.
I’m now earworming to Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries, adopting a world weary Martin Sheen attitude and expecting Robert Duvall to appear with a surf board. The horror The horror.
What next…write up all the past couple of day’s scores on my world cup wall chart. Black ink mostly but do a wee finger pin-prick and put ’England 2 Trinidad and Tobago 0’ up in blood.
At least the Southern Neighbours were re-assuringly incompetent in their huffing puffing self-conceited way. A big hurrah to T&T for a noble display.
Better get some work done. .crank up the music…’Swordfishtrombones’ – that should keep the public away.. (sings / grumbles) …..
‘Rattle big black bones in the danger zone
there's a rumblin' groan
down below
there's a big dark town, it's a place I've found, there's a world going on
Underground…….’
Right, on with this stack o’work… ‘Tom Waits for no man, you know’…….
Later…….And I’ve rattled through a bit of Oil Platform Equipment Supply Administration, dealt with few Joe Dimwitts (thanks edna_million for THAT apt description) At times I feel more like a Social Care Assistant than a Materials Controller!
11 am…. Right, I’m going to quietly slope off , pretending I have some stuff out on deck to check, and get an early start on the treadmill – cut down the speed and have a steady run, aiming for a 4 or 5 miler… I’ll need music to stave off boredom….Nazareth ‘Razamanaz’ from 1972 should provide some upbeat momemtum…..
….but alas. As soon as I trudged up from the bottom deck to the Accomodation Block, I knew my wee leggies didn’t have the fuel to do an extended run. (the 8 flights of stairs soon reveal fitness levels) But I duly trotted out a 2 miler and then nipped down for lunch of bangers and mash. (the tatties were a bit over soggy – we seldom get the luxury of decent fluffy mash – but the sossies were suberbly savoury)
One thing is niggling me about my jogging stats is the duff read outs on the machines. On this current machine a steady easy trot sees me take 12 minutes to rack up a mile. Now, I KNOW at home in ‘real’ measured distances I should do that in 10 minutes. As I try to squeeze my runs into a sometimes physically busy ( typo’d ‘busty’ there!) day I should maybe regard 0.8 on the read out as a True Mile. How can these Hi-Tech machines not get programmed properly. On one rig there were 2 identical machines. I was able to do 7 minute miles on one, but to even attempt the same pace per the display on the other one would have burst my lungs, heart and other important bits.
One o’clock and back to work….. Work work…I’ve got a load of Electrical spare parts to requisition….can you feel my excitement?
Na, changed my mind…decided instead to do a bit of my Store Improvement re-vamp. This involves the brutal destruction of a few cumbersome steel shelf rig-ups, in preperation for replacement by super-duper plastic bins that I persuaded management to invest in. Anyway some vigorous hammering and bashing and demolishing definitely got my personal oomph up several notches. The Operators and Techs in nearby workshops had their own ‘nae much happening – chill-out peaceful afternoon’ siesta disturbed.
..up to the back of the store in a quiet moment and do my wee toe-touches, stretches and general floor exercises ‘daily dozen’ (which I manage about one day out of six)
..give Mrs F a call after browsing the Jobcentre website. She is on her last couple of days in the charity shop as her college course placement and then back for one week’s college completion and de-brief. If nothing else, the past few weeks have given her a sense of purpose. She was on a downward drift for a good while recently. It’s nice to have her chirpy. I noticed a short-term temp job as a cleaner in a Thai / Chinese restaurant and she’s going round to check it out…..
logon to the internet to check out the fitba score… I could really use a radio down here….
Argentina are giving Serbia + Montenegro a thorough rogering . The Argies are the Ken Fitlike tip for the trophy mainly due to the mean-hombre streak that they have moulded onto their abundant skill and cohesive teamwork. Victory could well come down to Who Wants It Most and these dudes are f***ing serious. And I love their classic jerseys.
Mexico v Angola tonight. What a great culture contrast. This makes the WC such a groove. Ginger beers, crisps and chocolate on order. To hell wi’ the consequences.
….and some more work tasks before a Watch My Dust exit at the back of six. Post up the Flickr link on OD at seven and leave some further impudence on various open diaries and prepare to have my mind boggled again by all youse good peoples’ miscellaneous doings….
I've photographed A LOT of homes and this is one of the most unhinged thing's I've ever seen; a taxidermy bear snowboarding right at you as you enter the home.
(l-r): Stephen Stocking as Pip and Dana Green as Miss Havisham in "Great Expectations" at Portland Center Stage.
Photo by Patrick Weishampel/blankeye.tv.
Portland Center Stage presents
GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Adapted from Charles Dickens by Lucinda Stroud
for Book-It Repertory Theatre
Directed by Jane Jones
January 16 — February 14, 2016 On the U.S. Bank Main Stage
Previews are Jan. 16-21 | Opening night Jan. 22
Based on Charles Dickens’ classic coming of age novel, Great Expectations tells the adventures of the Victorian orphan Pip. As a boy, Pip has three encounters with people that will change his life: the escaped convict Magwitch, the bewitching and cold Estella, and the unhinged Miss Havisham. When Pip comes into an unforeseen fortune and begins the life of a gentleman his past is not so easily left behind, and the surprising adventures of his new life are decidedly unexpected.
The Umbaran and the Lasat.
An Unlikely Alliance
Name: Daressen Ediolen
Age: 31
Species: Lasat
Home world: Lasan
Era: Clone Wars - Age of the Empire
Weapons: Blade staff, Vibro knife, Modified blaster
Affiliations: The Hutt Cartel, Saw Gerrera’s Partisans
Notable Bounties/Acts:
- Was hired alongside Black Krssantan as a body guard to Boorka during Hutt Cartel negotiations. He was believed to be a hairless wookie by most.
- Daressen singlehandedly fought and killed an entire Unit of Stormtroopers on Onderon.
Abilities:
- Lasat strength, speed, agility and height
- Superior sight and hearing
- Dareesen, 'Ress' is fluent in Galactic Basic, Shyriiwook, Huttese, Lasat and some Droidspeak.
Biography: Ress was off-world at the time Lasan was conquered and decimated. For a while he disguised himself as a wookie using furs he stole from Trandoshan slavers, but, after years working to fill the pockets of the Hutt Cartel he left to become a mercenary with his partner.
Name: Eym Quay
Age: 24
Species: Umbaran
Home world: Umbara
Era: Late Clone Wars
Weapons: Sickle blade, Blaster pistol, Vibro blade
Affiliations: Saw Gerrera (briefly), Daressen Ediolen
Notable Bounties/Acts:
- Eym fought in the battle of Umbaran Militia against Clone Troopers from the 501st legion. Later she fought against some of those same troops when they became the first legions of Stormtroopers.
- Once won the Obsidian Sphere.
- Assassinated Senator Stonk after the collapse of the
Gallactic Republic for an anonymous hire who believed Stonk was a Jedi sympathiser following Order 66.
Abilities:
- Umbaran night vision
- Umbaran Ultraviolet vision
- Subtle mind reading.
- Fluency in Galactic Basic, Umbarese and Droidspeak
Biography: The planet Umbara rests in perpetual twilight so Eym’s species have developed expert night vision to navigate their homeworld. The Umbaran’s innate ability to see in ultraviolet and subtly read thoughts of others make Eym a formidable bounty hunter in stealth and reconnaissance. That was why she left the Umbaran militia after the Battle of Umbara to pursue a new purpose as a mercenary.
Eym began in the clone wars, inspired by the famous bounty hunters Jango Fett, Zam Wessel and the Weequay Pirates. Although she never ranked very high in bounty tallies, compared to her heroes, and believed she may never make a name for herself. However, in a fortunate twist of fate, the contest held by Moralo Eval eliminated the sizeable majority of her competition and she quickly soared through the ranks.
Alliance:
Eym was hired by an anonymous party to assassinate an underworld crime boss, she had the stealth to carry out a swift and secretive execution but not the brawn the fend off the crime lord’s guards. Ress was under orders from the Hutt Cartel to eliminate a rival, he had surveyed the hired guard and surmised he could take them out in a fight, he just needed to get into the facility unnoticed - something which proved to be difficult for the 7 foot Lasat. Ress hadn’t noticed the ghost-like Umbaran approach him in the night, they threatened and fought and deliberated until eventually they agreed to carry out the assassination together and split the bounty. Ress was persuaded to leave the Hutts and join Eym as a bounty hunter.
They travelled together until the collapse of the Galactic Republic, Eym’s last bounty was a rescue and retrieval mission from an anonymous source. On a distant planet in the outer rim, a Jedi youngling had been smuggled out of Coruscant, escaping Order 66. Eym was hired to find them and bring them to other Jedi survivors. She was not usually trusting of the Jedi after the exploits of Master Pong Krell on Umbara but she would save a child.
However, when she brought the youngling to the waiting contact, it wasn’t the do-gooder rebel or Jedi master she had expected. What waited for her was an Imperial Admiral - her anonymous hire, an Inquisitor and a squad of Storm Troopers.
Eym and the youngling fought well but were ultimately slaughtered.
Daressen grew to loathe the empire with a burning rage; first they ravaged and decimated his home world. His people. Then they slaughtered his beloved partner.
Unhinged, Ress sought out violent revenge. He landed in the company of Saw Gerrera, a man Eym had spoken of from the Clone Wars, and his Partisans on the planet Onderon.
It wasn’t long before the Empire spread its rancid clutches over Onderon too, they soon sent Units to the street to spread peace. He had seen their peace and wanted no part of it. That was why, when he ran into a unit himself, he couldn’t possibly let them escape alive. The air grew thick with the scent of blaster-burnt flesh as the Imperial scum fell to his shots. He finished the injured off with a swift slash of his blade. When he came upon the last man he was ready to kill...
Then he saw the man’s weapon, a bo-rifle: the weapon of the Lasat Honour Guard.
He couldn’t kill the man, couldn’t take his weapon as prize in place of his own lost bo-rifle. He hadn't beaten him in fair combat, it wasn't the Lasat way. Ress always wondered what happened to the Imperial he let escape...
Commentary:
This post is for Poe-Tato Dameron's bounty hunter contest.
I kinda went all out for this one, there's more references to canon than I can point out and a bunch of secrets to find. Please comment if you find them and tell me what you think!
This model is a recolored and modified version of Hachiroku24's Iron Giant model. I made it into steampunk color-scheme with a giant staff as a weapon. I am writing a backstory for the model with inspiration coming from the BIONICLE Generation 1 story-line with the Mata-Nui Robot, the Great Beings and so on. You can see Hachiroku24's original model here: www.flickr.com/photos/91426193@N02/40096928715/in/faves-5...
FICTIONAL backstory:
In the year 1923, the then un-named Brass Automaton landed in the Pacific Ocean near the long-forgotten Dino Island. It created a tsunami and unhinged the island from the Earth's crust and as such the land began to sink. The robot was first sighted by nearby French sailors, who upon seeing the giant being arise from the water, tried to describe the being the best way they could through their wireless telegraph: they named it the Brass Automaton. Johnny Thunder and his Adventurers crew went looking for this great metal being after saving as many dinosaurs as possible from the sinking primeval island, but never saw it, as it was walking along the seafloor towards the South American coastline to gather information on the dominant beings of Earth, also known as Humans.
After staying relatively hidden in various secluded places around the globe for around a year and a half, the Brass Automaton was finished reading the minds off local people for information on humans as a species: Our past, our present as of 1924, our origin, and our many languages, along with defenses, politics, and technology. After gathering all that intelligence, the Brass Automaton headed to the North Pole to transmit the required information to it's home planet using a faster-than-light sub-dimensional beacon. (Basically, a fancy radio) That is just about when a major solar storm hit the Earth, with the radiation hitting the atmosphere of the Earth and scrambling the outgoing signal into nonsense.
Now the garbled signal was received by the home base, and as a precaution, the Iron Giant version of the Brass Automaton was dispatched as fast as possible to earth. (That would take it nearly 35 years for it to get there at all possible speed, which would require it to refuel once arriving on Earth, which is why the Iron Giant was at the power plant at the beginning of the movie, whereupon it's memory was scrambled by the high-voltage electricity)
After staying relatively hidden in various secluded places around the globe for around a year and a half, the Brass Automaton was finished reading the minds off local people for information on humans as a species: Our past, our present as of 1924, our origin, and our many languages, along with defenses, politics, and technology. After gathering all that intelligence, the Brass Automaton headed to the North Pole to transmit the required information to it's home planet using a faster-than-light sub-dimensional beacon. (Basically, a fancy radio) That is just about when a major solar storm hit the Earth, with the radiation hitting the atmosphere of the Earth and scrambling the outgoing signal into nonsense.
Now the garbled signal was received by the home base, and as a precaution, the Iron Giant version of the Brass Automaton was dispatched as fast as possible to earth. (That would take it nearly 35 years for it to get there at all possible speed, which would require it to refuel once arriving on Earth, which is why the Iron Giant was at the power plant at the begging of the movie, whereupon it's memory was scrambled by the high-voltage electricity)
After sending the garbled message and being struck by lightning as a result of the solar storm, the Brass Automaton was temporarily incapacitated. It was then discovered at the northern tip of Greenland by Dr. Harold Wormwood and brought back in pieces to his stately laboratory mansion in rural Louisiana, where he ran test after test on the alien visitor. By 1925, the mad scientist-type Doctor Wormwood had the resembled robot nearly reassembled, and was preparing to restart it when a Lord Sam Sinister came upon rumors of the robot and wanted it for his own nefarious desires, with Johnny Thunder close on his heels...
blogging here: thornesonroses.wordpress.com/2012/11/19/unhinged-lassitud...;
Outfit: skin: Your Style / Your Shape Unhinged Jane Smokey
make up: Pin Me Down Unhinged Skully Lashes 1 make up and lashes
Outfit: PixelDolls Unhinged Vigne Mesh Dress
Shoes: lassitude & ennui Unhinged Sugarskull boots black
Pose Monster Unhinged Skull 8 Pose and skull on hand
Ground Skulls Perception Unhinged Skulls with Gem eyes
Necklace: Perception Unhinged Skull Necklace
Hair: elikatira Caramel Red8 background, items I made not for sale
The buses couldn't take us where we wanted to go today, so in Regla we tracked down this taxi driver to show us around some of the guidebook-recommended sights in nearby Guanabacoa, just a few miles down the road. Little did we realize that Javier (or his assistant riding shotgun whose purpose seemed to be to open and close the doors gently for us so they didn't come unhinged) had no idea where any of the sights were. So all four of us discovered the small wonders of the town together.
Guanabacoa, Cuba.
Abandoned 1935 Plymouth sedan on the outskirts of Castlemaine, Victoria
Nikon D600
Nikkor 17-35mm lens at 17mm
3 images at F22 +/- 1
ISO 100
Merged in Oloneo PhotoEngine before being processed and enhanced in CS3 and PSP
This is a charity doll I donated to the London Fashion Doll Festival 2018. The charity auction is still on ebay at the moment and ends on 30th live at the event:
www.ebay.co.uk/itm/302778066742?ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT...
White Queen, OOAK Inamorata Valerie in Milk resin, is the unhinged ruler of the the white chess pieces in the book Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll. She must run fast to stay still as the world of chess whirls by. The inspiration for the White Queen came from Japan and samurai armour: the bodice is sculpted leather, the exaggerated lace shoulders evoking the silhouette of armour and the psychedelic checkers of the silk skirt, fastened like a hakama, echo the chessboard. Her heeled boots are inspired by tengu geta sandals and her hard cap wig is a modern geisha style made with silk, leather and alpaca hair.
The book Densmore is reading from, which he authored, is "The Doors Unhinged: Jim Morrison's Legacy Goes on Trial." You can see here the typeface is larger than one would find in a regular book. It's easier to read (and to read aloud) when the typeface is big and clear, and especially when one is up in years like John Densmore is. Lasik surgery apparently can only do so much, especially when a rocker reaches his or her emeritus years.
The part Densmore is reading from is where he plays the band's debut album for his parents, who by now have gotten to the final track, "The End," which Densmore described as being "Greek tragedy" in nature. He goes on to point out how his parents reacted to the Oedipal themed elements in the song, to put it mildly.
It wasn't long after this presentation that my friends and I left the USC campus to grab a quick little dinner before heading home. It was a fun, if not interesting, day.
This is a charity doll I donated to the London Fashion Doll Festival 2018. The charity auction is still on ebay at the moment and ends on 30th live at the event:
www.ebay.co.uk/itm/302778066742?ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT...
White Queen, OOAK Inamorata Valerie in Milk resin, is the unhinged ruler of the the white chess pieces in the book Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll. She must run fast to stay still as the world of chess whirls by. The inspiration for the White Queen came from Japan and samurai armour: the bodice is sculpted leather, the exaggerated lace shoulders evoking the silhouette of armour and the psychedelic checkers of the silk skirt, fastened like a hakama, echo the chessboard. Her heeled boots are inspired by tengu geta sandals and her hard cap wig is a modern geisha style made with silk, leather and alpaca hair.