Hello, I'm Kerri (she/they)! 27. Bi. white. | "We will do what we have always done. We will find hope in the impossible." | Marvel blog: williamkaplanaltman
Please stop traveling, stop playing, stop watching movies and TV, stop laughing, and look at what's happening in Gaza. It's bitterly cold in Gaza right now. Our bodies can't bear it. People are dying in Gaza from bombing, hunger, and the cold.
Please, please look at what is happening in Gaza, which was once one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Look at it now, drowning. There is no infrastructure, no sewage system, no homes, no buildings, no towers. Gaza, which used to celebrate New Year's every year, doesn't do that anymore. For two years now, it hasn't celebrated; instead, people are dying before the eyes of the entire world, and the world remains silent.
It saddens me, makes me feel utterly helpless, and even kills me to see the whole world preparing for Christmas and the New Year while I struggle just to stay warm in this deadly heat. The cold is unbearable. Please help us buy clothes and blankets. Please help us escape the hell of Gaza. Please.
Please, if you can, help Nader and his family! Donations are a lifeline and they are essential to ensuring he and his family can keep warm as winter hits Gaza once again.
What we've been through is enough. We're tired of everything. We're fed up with life. We're tired of trying to stay alive. Please, just help us with a donation.
Please, friends, help us and donate to us. Our lives have become nothing but tragedy, injustice, cold, and death. We are suffering. I don't know what more to say to please help us. Please donate.
I wanted the movie to test the capabilities of every single craft in moviemaking. There are huge sets, huge props, complex wardrobe. I wanted it to feel like an old movie that was made in the heyday of Hollywood. Luscious, and beautiful, and operatic and all that. [...] 'cause I didn't want the audiance to go, "Oh, it's digital," because once you introduce that, it's like a license for people not to believe things. [...] If you do it for real, people have a sense.
and i'm very worried about paying rent on the 1st.
i hate being in this position. i moved across the country a little over two months ago and i keep hitting roadblocks. the apartment i signed a lease for sight unseen has a shitty scammy management company. i had to pay upfront to get an exterminator for the roaches an adjacent unit is spreading all over the floor. car insurance is twice as expensive here as it was where i lived before. the utilities i was told would be included are in fact not included. i could go on.
i'm planning to find someone to take over my lease starting december 1 so i can move somewhere cheaper where i have the opportunity to actually tour in person, but i need to get through november 1 first.
if you have even $20 that you can spare, i'd really, really appreciate it. if not (and i totally understand if not; it's Hard Out Here at the moment for everybody) a reblog would mean a lot.
Kiersau is an old abbey, Andreas, and sometimes even I wonder if it - if we - have outlived our purpose here. . . . Sometimes I wonder if we were meant to change and we just... forgot to.
So here's something I thought was interesting.
Between Act I and Act II, the townspeople of Tassing age and change. Some of them begin going gray (or go grayer). Some grow longer beards or hair. Some have cheekbones become more prominent, or have lines on their face that develop or deepen, even subtly. And of course it's especially obvious with the kids of Tassing, who are growing from babies into children, and children into teenagers.
Even those characters who don't have visual changes to their faces or hair have differences to their clothing to show that time has passed. They've changed, even if it's only replacing or restyling old clothes, or growing out their hair. People have died, been born, gotten married, moved into town, built new businesses, taken up new ideas - the growth and change is often modest, but it's visible.
But at Kiersau Abbey...
... nobody changes - so much so that most of the monks and nuns don't even have different portraits between Act I and Act II, despite the passage of seven years.
For those that do, the only change is to the color of their habit (the seven years between Act I and Act II would encompass the entire period between entering the abbey and solemn profession, so anyone who was a novice when Andreas was there in Act I would have necessarily professed by Act II).
The only other one who changes is Aedoc, whose "image" becomes more worn - but even he doesn't change facially. (Compare him to the visible aging of Ill Peter, another elderly male character.) None of the members of Kiersau physically change, visually, in those seven years. No lines on their faces, no gray hair, no wrinkles, no beard growth, no drooping, no aging, nothing.
The only ones who change regardless of the outcome of Act I are Cecilia, who was far more worldly and savvy than her counterpart, more proactive and less caught up in Kiersau as a bubble; and Piero, who understood and accepted that change was inevitable and didn't fear it. And the only way that they could change was to die, and disappear altogether.
And for all that there's been at least one major change to Kiersau with the closure of the scriptorium (and possibly more, depending on Ferenc and Matilda's fates in Act I), almost nothing has changed in terms of how Andreas/the player sees and experiences the abbey. Of those characters in the abbey who have "grown up", Zdena is still half-heartedly tending to the remains of the library under Illuminata's supervision (and Illuminata herself, though she's now Mother Superior, is still in the library sorting books). Lukas is still in the kitchen, and still can't quite figure out what to do without Wojslav directing him. Volkbert is still doing the menial, grubby work nobody else wants to do. He even lampshades how taking his vows hasn't really changed anything except the color of his habit:
I'm a monk now. . . . I still do the same work, but now I have the same robes as the other brothers.
One expects the abbey to change more slowly than the town, given that the monks and nuns aren't likely to be getting married or having children (one presumes, at least); but even those characters who have, in name, taken on new roles are still functionally doing mostly the same things they were doing seven years ago.
The only members of Kiersau that we see change, grow, take on visibly different roles, and age are the ones we see in Act III, after the abbey has been destroyed and they've moved on elsewhere.
Obviously Kiersau Abbey is not some kind of actual pocket dimension where time doesn't move (unless . . . ?). But it's posited even within the text of the game as a deliberate anachronism, a medieval holdover in the early modern age; and it's set against the inescapable presence of the Church's inertia versus the looming Reformation, and the growing social unrest against the feudal status quo. A major theme of the game is the inevitability of change and loss, and how being able to accept it and move on is essential for growth/survival. And it's clear that the stagnation has reached such a point that there can be no lasting change on a social scale in Tassing until Kiersau burns.
So all that said, I don't think the visual contrast between the clear progression of time in Tassing, and the lack of it in Kiersau, is a coincidence.
This is Kiersau, Andreas. You should know by now, nothing here changes.
Something happened to me that I always talk about. I would say (to the survivors): "Hi, Enzo, I play Numa" and they would say 'Oof, Numa'. And they would give me a hug."
I would say, "But this person doesn't know me, he's not hugging me. He's hugging Numa through me."
And it was very powerful. You saw there what he was leaving. There is something inexplicable about Numa that he left in others, that they feel a weight. They feel an extra gratitude.
There was something very heavy there that you felt, and it left you with that responsibility. You would say: "Ah, look at this person, how special. How they remember him.
What is a person like to be remembered like that? What did he do? What did he leave?"
Title: Joan of Arc Listening to the Voices
Artist: Eugène Romain Thirion (French, 1839-1910)
Date: 1876
Genre: religious art; historical painting
Medium: oil on canvas
Location: Église Notre-Dame, Ville de Chatou, France
in los angeles, the historically Black community of altadena has been decimated by the ongoing eaton fire.
afropunk has created a spreadsheet of gofundmes of displaced Black individuals and families affected by the current los angeles fires. the list is constantly being updated.
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