Rain and sun
Not today Justin

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Jules of Nature
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oozey mess
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romaâ
RMH

if i look back, i am lost
YOU ARE THE REASON
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$LAYYYTER
we're not kids anymore.

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@tartapplesauce
Rain and sun
Apple blossom, daisies, dandelions. Weather may be grey but the plants are blooming.
So I finally gave in and started watching "Till The End of the Moon" and it's pretty good so far.
Except now I've reached the part where, as a nice little break from all the angst and tragedy and suffering and misery and death and betrayal and such, the show decides to give us an interlude where some of the main characters live a past life as magical... clams.
You heard me right.
Ah well, at least nobody is getting tortured or murdered. Yet!
My favourite character in the whole show. I love him.
I love this guy. Such a schemer, such an astute politician, hiding it all beneath the façade of "I'm just an avuncular benign old sect leader with no ulterior motives".
Good job he's working for the good (more or less) guys. But I love how he is at least one and often two steps ahead, because he knows the calibre of stuck-up idiots he has to work with, and that they'll ruin everything unless he has contingency plans in place.
Just starting episode twenty and I have to admire how he knows said idiots will have a vote to go against his decision, so he arranges a Divine Apparition complete with "I had a prophetic dream last night" to get around that. After all, they can vote all they want, but when the Ancestor sends a divine vision to back you up... well, what are they gonna do? Defy the will of the heavens?
His schemes are gorgeous.
Got called "middle-aged" in an online spat today.
Boys (and if you think calling women "middle-aged" is the putdown of all putdowns, you're a boy regardless of chronological age), that is not the insult you think it is.
It did for me
Had to give up the book I was reading. Got about two-thirds through and the stupid conquered me.
I don't like Thomas Cromwell at all, either as a real or fictional person, and I was engulfed in embarrassment for him the way he was depicted here.
Honestly, if author had stuck to this being a gay romance, it would have been way better. As it is, nobody has consistent characterisation for five minutes altogether, the good guys have impeccably 21st attitudes towards sex (so what if technically this is adultery, we love each other! Jesus would be totally cool with this!) and as for the 'secret', either everyone guesses it within the first ten minutes of meeting NicĂłla (spoiler: he's a she, yes it's a lady disguised as a man!) or they are too dumb/blinkered to do so and assume Tomassito (yes, we're in pet name territory here) is shacking up with a dude.
NicĂłla has spent fifteen years living as a man, but in the first sentence of the book can't walk like men even in big heavy boots. Then later we get an observation that 'he' has learned how to imitate men completely. Then people guess by 'his' earlobes (pierced for ear rings, you see, and distended because aha, wearing heavy ear rings from a young age, only women do this - I have no idea if the heavy ear rings thing is correct or not, and based on the rest of the historical accuracy on show I doubt it) and that 'his' hair is long and pinned back like a woman's hair.
Which is one example of the stupidity on show, because WHY DIDN'T SHE CUT HER HAIR? Hair grows back! She's wearing a binder and men's clothes but can't take the obvious step of "cut my hair to a man's style"????
Of course, if she did that, then we couldn't have the masses of red-gold curls tumbling out when she and Tomassito are tussling.
There is not enough face-palming in the world to cover what is going on in this book, and I haven't even got to the second and third ones in the trilogy.
Oh, and Crumwell (yes, that's how the author spells his name, because historically he used to sign it like that; why stick on this point when every other damn thing in the book is anachronistic, I have no idea) is going to go after Thomas More (presented as a villain, naturally) because - no, not politics, not because the king wants him out of the way, not ambition, none of those reasons: it's because he is now a threat to Crumwell's family.
That family being Tomassito, NicĂłla (who is now living with him but still pretending to be a guy) and their illegitimate daughter Gianna (based on Cromwell's real illegitimate daughter Jane, here supposed to be the daughter of NicĂłla's sister, NicĂłla being his/her own sister).
Oh, and it's easy to know who the bad guys are, because as well as being described as bad guys for what they do, they are all dirty, smelly, limping, stammering, hulking brutes, and so on. Yep, she goes there. Never mind that I have no idea if Norfolk had a stammer (I've never seen any mention of it and a quick online search indicates not) but for the purposes of this book, him enemy of Crumwell = him bad guy = him stammer and have long, food-matted beard and be smelly.
God. In. Heaven. This has to have started out as fanfic, and it's not even particularly good fanfic. Hillary Mantel has a lot to answer for, being such a Cromwell stan and having such a hit with the Wolf Hall trilogy!
The real Cromwell was smart, capable, and a stone-cold shark until he made a few fatal missteps and ended up the victim of Tudor court politics. The characters in this book, despite the author's description of them being brilliant super-spy conspirators, would not have lasted ten whole minutes in the court of Henry VIII.
If you want a book about Cromwell, there are several good biographies out there. If you want historical fiction set in Henry's court, ditto. Keep far away from this book.
Happy New Year to one and all!
For new reading, I'm starting a trilogy of historical fiction about Thomas Cromwell by an author hitherto unknown to me, and golly gosh.
First book, four pages into the first chapter, and it seems I might have strayed into a gay romance version, because the lead character (so far) is a delicate wee little fay Italian boy who is hinting heavily (as in dropping anvils heavily) about having secrets, and our first glimpse of he who is going to be Thomas Cromwell is a golden-eyed dark man who our friend the wee little gay Italian gay boy NicĂłla (and yes, that's how it's spelled) cannot look away from.
Never mind that Thomas Cromwell did not have golden eyes and though he did have a lot of young men around him as protégés, not a hint or whisper of the gay.
I could, I suppose, be wrong: NicĂłla the person described as "based on the appearance of this man, petite, delicate, gentle, I believe they are saying like âthe Waifâ, someone small and uselessâ could turn out to be straight as a ruler and putting the "het" into "heterosexual".
But somehow I don't think so.
I have no idea if it'll be any good as a historical novel, but someone is taking the Wolf Hall approach of Hilary Mantel and running all the way with it for a Cromwell stan đ€Ł
The author is Caroline Angus, book is "Frailty of Human Affairs", the first in the Queenmaker trilogy, and NicĂłla is OC and not based on anyone remotely historical (as if we needed telling).
EDIT: Whew, for the sake of Cromwell's reputation, gayness averted. NicĂłla is, in fact, a woman disguised as a man, so all his uncomfortable feelings towards the pretty effeminate Italian are okay!
It's fun so far, because it is so stupid. Cromwell and this Italian spy start spilling secrets to each other about five minutes after they met, which is not our historical Thomas Cromwell. Also, Cromwell is so hot for NicĂłla that "one look from young NicĂłla and he would do anything she wanted."
To which I can only say, are you fucking kidding me? This is a man who managed to remain loyal to Cardinal Wolsey, be known for his loyalty, and yet survive the fall of Wolsey and rise high in Henry's affairs. He is not throwing his career and likely life away for one rose-gold haired, green-eyed, Italian piece of stuff, no matter how hotcha.
This is total AU and best enjoyed that way, so I'm going to forget this is supposed to be anything at all related to reality and just enjoy the dumb romance goings-on. Tall, dark, golden-eyed Tomassito and rose-gold, green-eyed NicĂłla with forbidden love in the midst of courtly intrigue!
(Oh yeah, we're already in pet name territory and it's only chapter five).
EDIT EDIT: Pray for me, I may not survive the stupid in this book. Chapter seven, our hero(ine) NicĂłla is tra-la-la-ing along with a FORBIDDEN BOOK OF HERESY BY A HERETIC clasped to her bosom in broad daylight in the court. She meets Anne Boleyn and hands it over with some little demur.
A forbidden book. In English. Which she is pretending not to understand well. And the book is out in the open where anyone can read the name of the author (Tyndale) and go "Gasp! but that is a heretic book by a heretic!" and get her in trouble.
She could, you know, carry the book in a bag or otherwise hide it. Nope. Gotta carry it clasped in her arms in public for anyone at all to see it and wonder "why are you reading a heretic book? are you a heretic? the king burns heretics, you know that?"
And this is the amazing intelligent cunning super-spy that has charmed the pants (metaphorically not literally just yet) off Tomassito the rising star in Wolsey's service (and next to be the rising star in Henry's service).
Wowzers, is all I can say.
The Vanity Fair photographer who disrupted Trumpworldâs polished image
Every line, spot, blemish and blood vessel was captured by Christopher Andersonâs lens. What was he thinking?
By Shane OâNeill
On Tuesday, Vanity Fair published a two-part story by Chris Whipple about the inner circle of President Donald Trumpâs staff featuring unusually candid conversations with Chief of Staff Susie Wiles. It also featured remarkably unvarnished portraits of Wiles, JD Vance, Marco Rubio and Karoline Leavitt, all photographed by Christopher Anderson.
Whippleâs story has made waves on social media and in Washington, where Wilesâs allies have rushed to her defense. Andersonâs portraits â particularly his extreme close-ups that show his subjectsâ faces in minute topographical detail â have also caused a stir among people on both sides of the American political divide.
We caught Anderson by phone at the airport in Paris â where he was about to board a flight to Munich for another shoot â to ask him about the outsize online reaction to his recent photographs and the process behind them.
I want to talk to you about the portraits that you did for Vanity Fair. As I assume you have heard, theyâve caused a bit of a splash on social media. Can you tell me how you conceived of them?
I conceived of it many years ago. I did a whole book of American politics called âStumpâ (2014), where I did all close-ups. It was my attempt to circumnavigate the stage-managed image of politics and cut through the image that the public relations team wants to be presented, and get at something that feels more revealing about the theater of politics. Itâs something Iâve been doing for a long time. I have done it to all sides of the political spectrum, not just Republicans. Itâs part of how I think about portraiture in a lot of ways: close, intimate, revealing.
How do you prepare a subject for it? Obviously, your portfolio is available online, but do they know theyâre signing up for an extreme close-up?
Obviously not every picture I make is a tight close-up, and not all the pictures that I made at the White House were the tight close-ups. As weâre doing the portrait session, I do a little bit of everything: Iâm switching cameras, I am switching lenses. At one point I was so close to Susie Wiles that she said with a very serious voice, âYouâre too close,â and I backed up a bit. I am getting physically close to them when I do that. In fact, I photographed Trump at the beginning of his first presidency. And it was the cover of the New York Times Magazine. Itâs also an extreme close portrait of him.
The images are really arresting. What is your response to people who say that these images are unfair? Thereâs been a lot of attention about Karoline Leavittâs lips and [what appear to be] injection sites.
I didnât put the injection sites on her. People seem to be shocked that I didnât use Photoshop to retouch out blemishes and her injection marks. I find it shocking that someone would expect me to retouch out those things.
Specifically in the context of Vanity Fair, though, where the prevailing aesthetic is creamy and dreamy, it stands out.
Vanity Fair is a magazine that has its feet in two worlds, right? One is the journalism world, and one is the celebrity entertainment machine. Obviously, celebrity portraits on the cover of Vanity Fair are not really about journalism in the way that you and I think about journalism. But then thereâs the other side of Vanity Fair, which is real journalism. Iâm surprised that a journalist would even need to ask me the question of âWhy didnât I retouch out the blemishes?â Because if I had, that would be a lie. I would be hiding the truth of what I saw there.
Itâs an interesting situation, though, when it is what youâre expecting to see. Some people are reading this as being an attack or being petty.
If presenting what I saw, unfiltered, is an attack, then what would you call it had I chosen to edit it and hide things about it, and make them look better than they look? And I would also repeat: This has been a fixture of my work for many years. Iâve photographed all political stripes just like this. You will find in my book pictures of Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, beloved figures on the left photographed in the same way. The truth is, I was skeptical about this assignment to begin with. I make my living as a celebrity photographer now, and I didnât feel that I could go into that [political] context doing my celebrity photographer thing. And I was assured that was not the job. My job is to go in and draw on my experience as a journalist and photograph what I see. I go in not with the mission of making someone look good or bad. Whether anyone believes me or not, that is not what my objective is. I go in wanting to make an image that truthfully portrays what I witnessed at the moment that I had that encounter with the subject.
Were they coming camera-ready, or was there a hair-and-makeup team?
Most of them came camera-ready or with their own hair-and-makeup team. Karoline Leavitt has her own personal groomer that was there.
I mean, we donât know if Karoline Leavitt still has that groomer today now that the photos are published.
Well, what can I say? Thatâs the makeup that she puts on, those are the injections she gave herself. If they show up in a photo, what do you want me to say? I donât know if it says something about the world we live in, the age of Photoshop, the age of AI filters on your Instagram, but the fact that the internet is freaking out because theyâre seeing real photos and not retouched ones says something to me.
I thought it was interesting that Karoline Leavittâs defense of Susie Wiles has been, âEverything was taken out of context.â The extreme close-up divorces faces from context, as well. Whatâs your response to that?
Does not seeing the beige wall behind them take them out of context? Iâm not sure. Everything thatâs in the frame is what I choose to keep in the frame. For me, in the case of close-ups, I am trying to eliminate certain information so that other information is easier to read.
Were there moments that you missed? Anything that happened thatâs on the cutting room floor?
I donât think thereâs anything I missed that I wish Iâd gotten. Iâll give you a little anecdote: Stephen Miller was perhaps the most concerned about the portrait session. He asked me, âShould I smile or not smile?â and I said, âHow would you want to be portrayed?â We agreed that we would do a bit of both. And then when we were finished, he comes up to metoshakemy hand and say goodbye. And he says to me, âYou know, you have a lot of power in the discretion you use to be kind to people.â And I looked at him and I said, âYou know, you do, too.â
Washington Post
What I find interesting in this, is the contrast between what the photographer is saying and the reaction I'm seeing online.
Online reaction is "wow, how clever, he showed the monsters to be monsters by altering the lighting and shooting it like a horror movie and deliberately changing the colour gradients to make them look sickly and decayed".
He's not saying any of that here. He's saying he shot real people like real people, with the lines and shadows and wear of life and time on their faces.
And everyone is reacting like "yeah, you're not going to have flawless skin when you get older" is somehow "aha, this is the sign of villainy painted on their faces!"
Think about this outside of politics and propaganda for a minute. I've seen plenty of posts about coding villains in media to be flawed and imperfect, about associating disability with villainy.
An older woman got cosmetic treatments to fit in with the beauty standards society demands of women, that they defy and deny aging, that the natural changes of your life (and your features *will* change as you get older, it's surprising how they do) should not be acceptable for women as they are for men.
And that's being turned into political commentary by a lot of the same people who would make feminist arguments about the beauty standards imposed on women.
Whatever motivation or not behind the photoshoot, the photographer did the "warts and all" honesty version, and people are going on about how the signs of getting older, or maybe never being the standard of male or female beauty in your life that our culture holds up to us as the thing to be, is a sign of wickedness and monstrosity and evil.
So where does that leave those of us who were never conventionally pretty, who never fit the standards? Yet another message, this time from purported allies, that you have to fit the image or else.
Or else you've failed. Or else you're a loser. Or else it's okay to be mocked for this.
Or else it's okay to use physical imperfection as a tool of political messaging of who is the Good Guy and who is the Bad Guy.
Have the world's worst phone camera photos, and best wishes for the season to you all!
Today is the Winter Solstice, shortest day of the year. May things get better for everyone with the lengthening days.
Elderberries and blackberries just starting
There is also the history of how one particular tribe found their homeland:
As to the Deise, they inquired of their filĂ©s whether they were fated to have rest or dwelling in Munster; and the filĂ©s told them in reply to stay in the country, and that the wife of Criomhthann son of Eanna Cinnsealach, king of Leinster, whose name was Congain, was pregnant, and that it was a daughter she would bring forth, and that they should ask the daughter in fosterage, and give a fee in order to obtain her. After this the daughter was born; and she was fostered by the Deise. The daughter's name was Eithne Uathach, and she was fed by the Deise on the flesh of infants that she might grow up the more quickly; for a certain druid had foretold that they would get territory from the man whose wife she would be.Â
"Eithen Uathach" means "Eithne the Terrible" as explained here
Homeless, they wandered further south to Ard Ladrann, which is now the parish of Ardamine, near Gorey in County Wexford. There, they were given land by the king of Leinster in exchange for his marriage to a DĂ©ise woman. When this woman got pregnant, a druid called BrĂ prophesised that the child would be a girl and that âall the men of Ireland shall know her, and her motherâs kindred will seize the land on which they dwell.â In other words, this girl would end the wandering of the DĂ©ise and would finally find them a home. Because of this prophecy, the child was treated with the greatest of care when she was born. She was even fed the flesh of little boys so that she might grow up strong. She became known as Eithne the Terrible, because little boys were terrified of her.
As you can see, my ancestors were very reasonable people!
God bless the French đ€Ł
Though I have to admit, I think "visage de la petite mort" does sound way better than "ahegao".
Last of the apples on the tree
Apples from the tree in the back garden, pastry by shop-bought ready-made company, tart by me.
Turned out pretty okay, even though I am by no means a pastry cook!
~ The Bazar Book of Decorum. The Care of the Person, Manners, Etiquette, and Ceremonials, by Robert Tomes, 1870
Oh no! We're running out of German and Irish servants and soon we'll be forced to treat our employees with respect. Whatever will we do?
Gimme spuds and beef and I don't care how you treat me? Thank you for that description of the Irish (and Germans)!