#empire in the air release party
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I need to ask this, as I'm listening to the defectors au playlist, who did you think of when you put Billie Eilish's "what was I made for?" Because it makes me think of Kallus slowly unraveling after Lasan and realising just what kind of government he put his whole trust in to do the right thing, or is it Ezra dealing with his feelings after being essentially abandonded by yet another parental figure? and then having to battle with those feelings after Twilight of the Apprentice? what were your thoughts on this because it's just plagueing my mind right now
(What a motherfucking coincidence you ask this because i was thinking over it not even an hour ago-) (and thank you so much again for making the playlist, i have been listening to it every day since youve created it-)
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING- (warning, I have rambled nonsensically a lot, apologies-) (edit: FUCK ALRIGHT- I got distracted and accidentally swiped out of the app without saving so I have to rewrite it-)
The answer is both.
Now, I did first think of Kallus for it, but I've been think of a lot of Ezra during it as well.
This is a story with multiple moving parts, some songs are applied to more than one character or instance. And some songs are stretched over the course of an arc, whether that arc is as long as a few years or as short as an instant. This one is not an exception to that.
In Kallus’s case, it's part of his slow crash and burn with his faith to the empire, as well as period of time that follows after Lasan. As time goes on and events happen and seeds take root, there are moments. Moments of creeping doubt and dread.
Kallus has multiple goals, objectives, near the beginning of the story. The established duty to the empire; being a part of doing something far greater than himself. Making a difference for those who need it across the galaxy. The decision to take care of Ezra; a direct impact. Not taking action and not taking initiative can and would be just as detrimental as taking a misaction. And then his choice to help Mira and Ephraim; he thinks they're simply misguided or a miscommunication led to a severe misunderstanding. Because they very much have the same desire to help others and to help uplift that got him to join the empire.
As the years go on, it all starts to wear harder on him, especially in moments.
Mmm I look forward to writing out that in one particular scene, as Kallus is watching Ezra filling a room with such joy during a party, such light-hearted warmth, Kallus has to step away from the event for a moment. Because it's been about three years and Ezra is growing and it's so fast, too fast, and Mira and Ephraim are missing it. He's been fighting tooth and nail for them to be here and they aren't because despite all the work being done on both ends, the appeal for their situation just got pushed again. And now they've lost three years of watching Ezra grow into such a bright kid and it's leaving a sour taste in Kallus’s mouth.
At one point, he starts to realize that he doesn't think they actually plan on releasing the bridgers, but he realizes that the day before he is shipped off to lasan. Lasan cements the cumulation of the past five years to him. Everything he's dedicated himself to, he was lied to, led on. A d he complied to it. This, all round him- the smoke and ash and dead silence, is what has come from his dedication to the empire.
---
And then with Ezra, near the end of the five years, he senses a dread a sadness that hangs in the air.
He feels it too. Because even though he sees his parents and that they are safe, it's not the same. They aren't home. Kallus doesn't know that he knows, but Ezra knows that Kallus has been working almost every day to see through to the release of his parents. Something about it has made Kallus more frustrated than before.
Ezra continues on though, because Kallus has never once broken his word to Ezra. At least not until he returns after a mission that took over two weeks because it was across the whole galaxy. Kallus returns home to Lothal, and everything changes over night. Kallus finally realizes what the empire is but he isn't leaving, and he isn't leaving with Ezra. And Ezra knows exactly why even though Kallus still isn't saying it. And Ezra wants to ask for him not to return to the empire, but he knows that Kallus isn't going to leave without his parents, and he wants his parents back. He wants his parents and Kallus.
So he does as Kallus instructs, but something still pulls at him. He's in a bit of a daze by the time he makes it to the port where he's supposed to meet Tseebo. He sees Tseebo for a split moment and then he doesn't. He doesn't know where Tseebo ran off to, he doesn't know how long Kallus is going to take finding his parents, he doesn't know if kallus is going to find them or of they're going to come back.
In this moment he feels like he's lost everything he never even had to begin with. His parents, only ever having seen them in the walls of an imperial compound. Tseebo, who was only ever present to assist and is still so fearful that he choose to run after his parents and Kallus were depending on him, and is the one person Kallus would actually listen to. And Kallus. Who was always so dedicated him but was never really his, the man's faith to the empire has been dying but now that it's gone Ezra still doesn't have him because now he's run off to go find his parents.
And this grief hits him all over again when Kanan distants himself. And Ezra feels that it's his fault because of how trusting he was of Maul. Kanan got hurt and lost his sight and he's pulling away from Ezra and no matter what Ezra tries, there's nothing he's able to do to stop Kanan from slipping away and Ezra can't do this again.
I hope this made sense and I hope it answers your question! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING I LOVED IT.
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Hataraku Maou-sama! ES!! Summary (Third Story) Part 2
Summary of the Demon King Army Invasion:
The group of creatures known as demons called themselves the “Demon King Army”, and in a short span of one night, they controlled the Central Continent of Ente Isla.
The Central Continent Isla Kentorum which was managed by various countries in Ente Isla—Central Trade City completely fell apart, this state was the same as cutting off the close cooperation between the various countries.
But only using one night to destroy the Central Trade City, what caused this matter to be known to the world, was the declaration of war at that time.
The leader of the Demon King Army, so called “Demon King Satan”, declared that he was going to conquer the world, ordering the survivors from various countries in the Central Continent to spread this declaration of war.
Many countries did not believe this matter at first.
And because of this period of hesitation which was not considered short, the humans were slow by one step which could not be recovered.
What shocked the whole world, was the spreading of the undoubtable information that Afsahan, the large empire which controlled the whole Eastern Continent, had fallen into the hands of the Demon King Army.
Even though many embers were burning within in secret, Afsahan was still undoubtedly in possession of the strongest military power.
However, the demon army led by Demon General Alsiel, only used three months to suppress it.
At that time, the fate of the leader, Unifying Azure Emperor, was unknown. The Hakin Knight Troops whom Afsahan was proud of had in reality, fallen apart.
After that, the various countries in various continents deployed all their troops to fight against the Demon King Army.
The countries which had their disagreements unified in front of these suddenly arriving strong enemies, but even so, the Northern Continent fell one year later.
In the following year, the Southern Continent and Western Continent kept resisting the invasion from the Central Continent, but their battle lines were backing up little by little, and during the year Emilia was brought to Saint Ignord, the sea defence line with the Central Continent was broken.
Three years passed after that.
Finally, the last empire in the world, known as the last fortress resisting the Demon King Army—Saint Aire, fell.
Five years after the Demon King Army appeared in this world, the world reached a survival crisis.
Information on Lucifer’s rule:
Based on the information provided by the monks in the Missionary Department, martial law was established in Irihem, restricting the people from leaving, and it seemed like many commoners in the capital were brought into the castle town, killed to provide entertainment for the demons.
The past governing parties of Saint Aire, the royal family, noble families and generals, did not seem to have been killed yet, but it was just a matter of time.
The first discussion of infiltrating in order to rescue people (the translator is just excited to see Lucifer’s name mentioned, so there will be random snippets like this):
“Fights cannot be done freely to damage the houses in our home, you should understand this principle. But the reality is, as long as we get close to Lucifer, it is impossible to result in a battle where the surroundings are not damaged.”
About Lucifer’s magic formation which can automatically search for enemies and attack them:
Emilia suddenly saw Olba release a holy magic orb, in a place where it was hard to move around amongst the ruins of the city, a purple light suddenly appeared in the night sky.
“Wha……”
That was not a shooting star.
The purple rays which fell from the sky, chased after Olba’s holy magic orb, shooting like rain.
“That is……!”
“No good, come here quickly!”
“Gaius! Get rid of the holy magic from the Iron Light Restraints! Free Emilia!”
“Tsk!”
“Kyah!”
Listening to Olba’s warning, Gaius got rid of the holy magic chains without hesitation, Emilia fell to the ground in a pathetic manner.
(Then they fought some small fry)
Olba beside them used a warhammer to shatter the skull of a member of a globin clan, panting very heavily.
Emilia glanced at Olba and Guies who were fighting a hard battle, then swept her gaze over the sky.
The purple rays from earlier were clearly a demon’s power, magic cast using demonic magic.
Recently, it was not known who started it, but without realising it, the supernatural power possessed by the demons was called “demonic magic”, and the spells used by demons was called “demonic spells”, but the strange thing was, the aura of the demon who created the purple ray magic in the sky could not be felt.
(Fighting small fry)
“Those purple rays will react to strong holy magic……but!”
(Skipping unimportant stuff)
“For holy magic which only appeared for an instant, it seems like there would be no reaction.”
Even though more than ten newly appeared demons were killed, no new purple rays fell.
But at the side where Olba created holy magic orbs, new rays were seen shooting down.
“Hah……hah……so it’s like that…….ah.”
Olba was panting, and throwing the warhammer on the ground, he relaxed his arms.
“Lord Olba wishes to avoid battle, because you are afraid of those rays?”
“Hah, hah……no, it is not just because of this……”
“For unknown reasons, the aura of the demon who is the origin of the purple rays cannot be felt. Even though it is quite unthinkable, I feel that a complex spell was set up in the sky or high altitude, once there is a level of holy magic which could threaten the defences of the demons, which would be the approach of a strong human, it will attack automatically. It is just that, the sensitivity of the reaction is definitely not high. So if holy magic was used during battle to instantly kill an enemy, this spell will not react. In addition……”
The attacks which were targeting Olba’s holy magic ob far away stopped. It could be because the holy magic orb also disappeared.
“If stronger holy magic approaches, it will attack that place first, it seems to be designed this way. If so, making that kind of bait and putting it in other places would be fine. Lord Olba, please continue to do the same thing, let me and Teacher Guies fight, I think there would not be too much danger then, also able to banish the demons at the same time.”
Emilia exhaled, confirming once again that there was nothing in the surroundings which could move, then swung the blood of her sword and kept it.
“Even though the fight just now was not in our plans, by using this fighting method, it seems that I will not consume holy magic. But if we use this fighting method from the start, then there is no need to spare the demons, we can kill them while approaching Lucifer at the same time……eh?”
(Emilia was lectured, the trio retreated)
As if to compensate for the trio’s anxiety, the rain became heavier.
Rain, soil and the colour of the ruins, succeeded in hiding the trio from the eyes in the sky.
Only five minutes after Emilia and the others left the scene of the massacre.
“Oh my.”
A petite figure slowly landed from the sky.
The figure landed on the ground, surveying the surroundings, observing the corpses of the demons.
“It is rare for such a strong reaction to appear, I thought it might be……there are a lot of sword wounds. There is also a guy who does not use swords. But the killing blow is this move, huh.”
The cause of death for every demon was very obvious.
“Power and technique which can chop off the shoulder of an Azure Horn. It looks like a huge rat has come in. With this……there is a need to clean up, right?”
Meeting up with Suzuno and exchanging information:
“......Lady Etuva is Saint Aire’s imperial sorcerer. Lady Lumark is the knight captain. The power possessed by both of them are on a different level from others, the demons should not be so stupid to lock them up in the same place.”
“Which means, both of them are still alive?”
“Yes. Lady Etuva is in the Sorcery Management Institute. Lady Lumarks is locked in the underground prison.”
“The difference in treatment is huge?”
“We cannot understand how the demons think, and actually, it is difficult to imagine that both of them are still alive. Even though this is a major concern, there is no way to confirm……”
“But the thought that Lady Etuva is still alive, there is a clear reason.”
“What is it?”
“We did not enter the capital city, so this is just a deduction, but Lady Etuva and the sorcerers from the Sorcery Management Institute, most of them are still alive, continuing their magic research.”
“What did you say? What is going on? From the demon’s view, allowing Saint Aire to continue spell research, isn’t this the same as allowing the enemies to develop weapons in their own territory?”
“So we are very confused as well, but the probability of this deduction is very high. Before the invasion of the Demon King Army, some merchants would deliver the minerals and medicinal products used for spell research into the city, and other materials used as mediums, and currently, they are allowed to import these goods on a regular basis.”
“I don’t understand. Are those merchants from Irihem?”
“......No. There are those from merchant associations with headquarters in another country.”
“Hm?”
Seeing Olba’s side profile as he twisted his beard while mumbling, Guies understood what questions Olba had.
(Talked about the need for imports in order to maintain spell research)
“So they cannot be underestimated?”
The demons which they have encountered until now, all of them were unable to speak a language, they were creatures which were no different from beasts.
But, if their intelligence reached the point where they could maintain the trade routes of resources to organise the spell research in Saint Aire, then this was greatly different.
“I see, we should understand it as once they become high ranking demons, they will have the same intelligence as humans……”
“I think so as well. The horse carriages which transport the resources into the city would be checked by demon guards who look like they are very intelligent.”
“This is bad.”
Demons could interrogate. This matter was a threat to Olba and the Church.
Even though it was unknown what was asked, even if they only asked a few sentences, this meant the demons and the people transporting the resources could understand each other’s motives.
Currently, the “demons” in the hearts of humans, were only creatures hated by humans.
But, if the knowledge that “the other party are beings which could form an understanding with us” was widely known, this situation would change greatly.
It would not be strange if people or groups who felt that it was better to submit to the demons then resist the demons, or chose to co-exist with demons, appeared gradually.
(Skipping the development of this topic)
“......Oh yes.”
Olba asked the lady.
“The member of the Demon King Army who invaded the Western Continent, Lucifer, what kind of demon is he?”
“He can use powerful demonic magic known as purple rays. You might already know, the demonic magic setup which detects holy magic covering the whole of Irihem, after seeing that, it probably can be understood what kind of strong opponent he is, right.”
“You said that the light demonic magic is covering the entirety of Irihem?!”
Guies was shocked.
“Yes. What is even stranger is……”
The lady spoke sternly.
“With regards to Lucifer, there is only this bit of information.”
“What?”
“He is small in stature, with wings used for flying, but other than this, any information about his appearance is completely unknown. We do not know any concrete details about Lucifer’s appearance.”
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Blog post and linked tracklist [HERE]
Part 1 - Mixamorphosis
Matthew Kyle - Check It On Out (78 Recordings)
Jona Saucedo - When I Do Love (Unknown Label)
Ned Doheny - A Love Of Your Own (Softmore Version) (Unknown Label)
The Isley Brothers - Footsteps In The Dark (Vins Edit) (Unknown Label)
Bobby Bland - Ain't No Love (Pistolpuma Remix) (Self Released)
Latimore - All The Way Lover (Disco Tech Edit) (Unknown Label)
Isaac Hayes - Walk On By (Prozak Morris Flip, Trip & Acid Flip) (Not On Label)
Mathieu Clé - Black Mysteries (Apersonal Music)
LNTG - You Abandoned Me (Lightspeed Recordings)
Rhye - Open (Softmore Dub) (Unknown Label)
BB King - Thrill Is Gone (RocknRolla Soundsystem Edit) (Self Released)
War - Slippin' Into Darkness (Gazeebo Edit) (Unknown Label)
Part 2 - Softmore
Tracklist
01. Softmore - Air Traffic (Intro) (Not On Label)
02. Softmore - Weather Watcher (Interlude) (Not On Label)
03. Andras Fox - Erskine Falls (Home Loan Records)
04. Greg Paulus & John Camp - Remo (Wolf & Lamb Records)
05. Jesse Boykins III - Show Me Who You Are (Empire)
06. Greg Paulus - Daisy Duke (Wolf & Lamb Records)
07. DJ Cam - Bounce (Inflammable)
08. DJ Cam Quartet ft. InLove - Everybody Loves the Sunshine (Inflammable)
09. Softmore - In Flight (Interlude) (Not On Label)
10. GB ft. Steve Spacek - Simply So (Sound In Colour)
11. Joseph Terruel - The Jazzy Dub Sensation (In The Woods)
12. Softmore - Coastal Drift (Unknown Label)
13. Bobby - Transit (Circulations)
14. Softmore - Harp Chord (Interlude) (Not On Label)
15. Modlee & Vlooper - All Matter (Soulection)
16. The Rurals ft. Irantzu - Hermosa Blues (Softmore Edit) (Unknown Label)
17. Erlend Øye - Every Party Has a Winner and a Loser (Source)
18. Shy Girls - When I Say I Love U (Hit City)
19. Vital & Hubb - The Art of Alone (Fokuz Recordings)
20. 6th Borough Project - Deep C (Delusions Of Grandeur)
21. 6th Borough Project - The Callback (Delusions Of Grandeur)
22. BRS - Lovin' Me (Situation Rework) (Situation Sounds)
23. Phonique ft. Erlend Øye - For the Time Being (Dessous)
24. Kola Kube ft. Choklate - Break My Heart (Session Victim Remix) (Z Records)
25. Navid Izadi - On My Mind (Double Standards)
26. Harvey Sutherland - Nexus (This Thing Records)
27. Jerome C. - Heart & Soul (Double Standards)
28. Baby Prince & Navid Izadi - Missing You (Soul Clap Records)
29. Softmore - Air Traffic (Outro) (Not On Label)
Part 3 - Mixamorphosis
Tracklist
01. Hanny Dottaway - Talkin' 'Bout (Dimitri From Loisada Edit) (Ebo Records)
02. Phreek Plus One - La Spirale (J's Loveboat Mix) (Internasjonal)
03. Secret Society - Doe's Playa (1Trax)
04. Lay Far - Many Sided (Shadeleaf)
05. U - I (ManMakeMusic)
06. Munk & Rebolledo - Surf Smurf (Munk Version) (Gomma)
07. Gang Of Wolves - Universal Children (Stupid Human)
08. Cheek - Venus (Sunshine People Mix) (Versatile)
09. The London Heavy Disco Revue - The Balloon Room (Outhear Audio)
10. The Bucketheads - Got Myself Together (Kenlou Remix) (Positiva)
11. E-Versions - Khan (Merc)
12. Theo Vaness - Love Me Now (The Noodleman Dub) (Not On Label)
13. Goody Goody - It Looks Like Love (Sleazy McQueen Edit) (Unknown Label)
#mixamorphosis#softmore#dj mix#soundcloud#music#house#downtempo#edits#disco#Donny Hathaway#Dimitri#Phreek Plus One#Secret Society#Lay Far#U#Munk & Rebilledo#Gang Of Wolves#Cheek#The London Heavy Disco Revue#The Bucketheads#E-Version#Theo Vaness#Goody Goody#Matthew Kyle#Jona Saucedo#Ned Doheny#The Isley Brothers#Vins#Bobby Bland#Pistolpuma
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Dissidia Opera Omnia : Force Weapon partner connection (PART 5/?)
PART 5 compiled the FRs released in March 2022. The one with bold purple is FR user and the black one is the partner.
Just click on "fr partner" tags if you want to read full list.
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Minwu - Kurasame (Life Connect) : Masked men. 😷 Sacrificed their life force for something greater and believes the younger generation will lead the world to brighter future.
Minwu used all of his power, cost his own life to open the seal in Tower of Mysidia to help Firion obtain Ultima's Tome. Minwu stated that the fate of the world rests on Firion's party in the end of Soul of Rebirth together with Ricard, Scott and Josef, believes the future of their world are now in good hands.
Kurasame offered his life force to help Caetuna summon the Verboten Eidolon, Alexander during Battle at Big Bridge which lead to Rubrum's victory. Near his last moment, Kurasame stated that Class Zero are strong and believes they will be able to keep walking toward the future.
Ironically, Kurasame also sacrificed himself in the prequel novel to became a L'cie to summon Knights of Rounds.
Vaan - Machina (Rapid Chase) : Protective to their childhood friend who are also their love interest. Their older brother died and blame their death to others.
Vaan and Reks were taken in by Penelo's family and is protective to her. They started dating at the end of Revenant Wings. Reks died from the wounds he got during the battle in Nalbina Fortress and when he met Basch, Vaan blamed him for Reks's death but has let go his hatred and realize Reks's death is a part of Vayne's schemes.
Machina is protective to Rem since she suffered from illness and both are survivor from their village. They are married some time later after the war is over and Orience is free from the crystals. His brother, Izana died during Milites's invasion to Akademeia and after he learned "the truth", started to blame Class Zero for Izana's death. Unfortunately, Machina was too late to apologize…
Hope - Eald'narche (God's Vessel) : Interaction in Arc 3 Chapter 3. APTX4869 Adult trapped in younger body.
Hope was used by Bhunivelze as his vessel and spent 169 years molding him into a perfect "pure and innocent" host by regressing him in age to meet his standard.
Eald'narche's aging stopped the moment he came in contact with Mothercrystal thus acts as "the younger brother" to hide his true motives.
to refresh your memory and a spoiler : Eald'narche desires to restore the balance of the world by strengthen the power of darkness. He returned Hope and Caius's slit in Chapter 3 and planned to use Hope due to power inside his slit but his plan ultimately failed in Chapter 10 caused 'Hope' did the opposite.
Celes - Basch (Change the Air) : High-ranking military officer who were branded as traitor and imprisoned. Fills the "tank" role in Opera Omnia.
Celes betrayed Gesthalian Empire after she learned Gesthalian Empire is evil, imprisoned in South Figaro and scheduled to be executed but freed by Locke who was infiltrating the town.
Basch was framed as the traitor of Dalmasca and the king-slayer though the fact Gabranth impersonate him. He was announced executed but remains imprisoned in Nalbina dungeons and freed by Balthier, Fran and Vaan on their way to escape the prison.
Aranea - Fang (Speerstoßwelle) : Female "dragoon" with independent and straightforward personality. Both are the leader of their own group.
Aranea worked as mercenary and hired by Niflheim Empire as the Commodore of Airbone Unit but resigned after Diamond Weapon attacked Gralea to help the refugees and reformed her mercenary group.
in Lightning returns, Fang is the leader of group of thieves based in Dead Dunes called Monoculus with the goal to find the holy clavis.
Fang's Limit Break in XIII and EX Skill in dffoo shared the name with Aranea's surname.
Dorgann - Auron (Future-weaving Sword) : The previous generation of heroes that "stopped" the main threat and stayed in different world as the observer.
Dorgann is the member of Dawn Warriors who fought and sealed Exdeath thirty years before the event of FFV. He stayed in different world (Bartz's world) to protect the Wind Crystal and watch over the world.
Auron serves as guardian during Braska's pilgrimage to fought Sin ten years before the event of FFX. To fulfill his promise to Jecht, Auron stayed in Dream Zanarkand to watch over Tidus.
#fr partner#dissidia#dissidia opera omnia#opera omnia#dffoo#minwu#vaan#hope estheim#celes chere#aranea highwind#dorgann klauser#kurasame susaya#machina kunagiri#eald'narche#basch fon ronsenburg#oerba yun fang#auron
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okay, for real this time we're kicking off a new theme on tonight's show. tune into wlur at 8pm tonight to see what it'll be and then stick around for four hours of new music! if that doesn't work for you, you can always catch up with last week's show on mixcloud at your convenience, see below for tracklist.
finally a quick recap as we wrapped up our summer theme last week. for the past few months we've been starting the show off with music from the halifax, nova scotia scene of the 90s. we heard tracks from: sloan, jale, the super friendz, thrush hermit, plumtree, north of america, the hardship post, cool blue halo, the certain someones, les gluetones, and rebecca west.
no love for ned on wlur – august 4th, 2023 from 8-10pm
artist // track // album // label
rebecca west // mystery bird // six more weeks of winter ep // cinnamon toast
dippers // on the bend // clastic rock // goner
honey radar // english costume (melting cricket) // english costume // (self-released)
spirale parfait // j'care pas // (bandcamp mp3) // (unreleased)
daddy's boy // family cat // great news! // drunken sailor
pipe // backstroke // pipe // third uncle
sheer mag // all lined up // playing favorites // third man
charlie megira // fear and joy // charlie megira and the hefker girl // numero group
current affairs // right time // off the tongue // tough love
rocky // contents // rocky // lulus sonic disc club
air miami // pucker // me. me. me. (deluxe edition) // 4ad
lalitree darnielle // you are returning // (bandcamp mp3) // (unreleased)
lia kohl // moon bean // too small to be a plain // florabelle
self esteem // new york // new york digital single // fiction
dawn richard and spencer zahn // sandstone // pigments // merge
mali obomsawin // fractions // sweet tooth // out of your head
asher gamedze // melancholia // turbulence and pulse // international anthem
roman norfleet // cosmic forces // roman norfleet and be present art group // mississippi
the art ensemble of chicago featuring moor mother // new coming // the sixth decade- from paris to paris (live at sons d’hiver) // rogueart
yl and starker with dj skizz featuring adonis // sonny liston // smoke // tuff kong
liv.e // reset! // girl in the half pearl // in real life
travis scott featuring beyoncé // delresto (echoes) // utopia // epic
dinner party featuring ant clemons // insane // enigmatic society // empire
karin jones // last night in my dreams // under the influence of love // tidal waves
maximum joy // stretch (7" version) // white and green place ep // lantern
decisive pink // haffmilch holiday // ticket to fame // fire
popular music // lifetime achievement // minor works // sanitarium sound
the overcasts // community // aerie ep // mirror mūsica
american grandma // hope loop // rare knives of light cassette // decade year
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Arcade Fire’s Win Butler on Their New Album ‘WE’: ‘I Don’t Think Anyone Knows if Music is Good Until 20 years After it’s Made Anyway’
New Orleans’ Mardi Gras was a muted celebration during COVID-19. With the Louisiana city in lockdown, the parades and parties were stifled, leaving the city bereft of its usual colourful character. Into this strangest of days, the central track from the new Arcade Fire album WE was born. “‘End of the Empire (Sagittarius A*)’ was cut on Mardi Gras Day,” explains Win Butler. “It was super surreal because it’s such a spiritually-loaded day, there’s such a mysticism to it.
But the day it wasn’t happening because of COVID, you could hear the birds singing and the air was thick. We were waiting on people coming back to mix stuff but I was like, ‘I don’t fucking care, we need to record this shit right now.’ So we basically cut it live in the living room.”
Such aching isolation and a yearning for something bigger fills much of WE, which Butler is discussing with Rolling Stone across Zoom from his New Orleans studio (he and wife/bandmate Régine Chassagne are now based in the city). He languidly relaxes back in his studio chair, happy to hold court on any number of subjects. Butler is as earnest in conversation as would be expected from the lead singer of Arcade Fire.
Now 42-years-old, and with a nine-year-old son to look out for, he’s well ensconced in parenthood. Things are purportedly good for the musician, as good as things can be after these last few pandemic years. However, Butler is arriving into press for his band’s new album after what could be labelled the only major setback of Arcade Fire’s career to date: WE is the long-awaited follow-up to 2017’s Everything Now, an album that, while definitely not a complete failure, didn’t debut to their usual unanimous acclaim.
Critical reviews for the synth-pop style were tepid and many fans seemed unimpressed by a satirical album rollout that failed to properly connect. In an interview at the time, Butler claimed that the response to Everything Now was “Orwellian”, just another dismaying example of people losing the ability to take a joke. When this quote is regurgitated to Butler now, he doubles down. “Even the idea that it (Everything Now) didn’t go well is wrong. It’s like if you say something enough times then it becomes true.
I did a funny interview the other day and the interviewer was like, ‘So the people really didn’t like Everything Now and no one came to the show.’ I said, ‘did you actually come to our show in Berlin?’ He replied, ‘yes I did, it was a very sold out amazing show.’ I just don’t know!” Butler adds with an exasperated sigh (it should be noted that Everything Now still managed to top charts around the world, including the US and UK).
Think back to the music of your childhood: chances are that a lot of the most formative music came from albums released decades before you were even born. It’s something that Butler seems eager to emphasise. “I don’t think anyone knows if music is good until 20 years after it’s made anyway,” he insists.
He has a pertinent example ready to assist this theory. “I just read the most hilarious Rolling Stone review of Harvest (Neil Young’s now-classic 1972 album). It was basically like, ‘Neil Young has completely lost it, the album is bloated and I wish he’d do what he was doing before.’
Look, I’m not saying Everything Now is Harvest, which is one of my favourite records that anyone’s ever made. The point is none of truly fucking know in the moment because our perspective is so limited. Most of the bands I liked I heard 20 years after they broke up and I received their records in random order. I don’t know what the fuck The Clash were doing in 1978. (How much of this is Butler intellectually protecting himself from future critique is unclear; watching him passionately saying it from his studio, though, you’re inclined to think he means it).
Butler isn’t done there. “I don’t really buy into ‘music as a powerpoint list’, you know? I read a thing the other day that said, ‘I went through The White Album and made a better version of it.’ I was like, ‘who the fuck are you?’ It’s the fucking White Album! It’s one of the greatest things that anyone ever did and it’s also the fucking Beatles.
It’s just such a hilarious idea, like ‘I’ve just got to get my time machine ready and then I’m going to cut “Honey Pie”. If only I could help them!’ I don’t know what the reviews for We were in Russia back then but I’m sure they were not favourable,” he adds with a knowing smile.
Butler is referring to Yvgeny Zamyatin’s dystopian novel written in the early 1920s which Arcade Fire’s album takes its name from. “I studied Russian literature in university and I read the book when I was 18 or 19,” he recalls. “It kept coming back. I thought I would probably do a film of it or something at some point.”
When he started working on this album, though, WE fit thematically as Butler was aiming to find the most meaningful word with the least amount of letters (a rare economical moment from a band whose song names often resemble the languorous titles of contemporary novels).
It’s clear that Butler feels an affinity for Zamyatin. “He was a prophetic writer. 1984 is entirely based on WE, and so is Brave New World. Both of them (George Orwell and Aldous Huxley) read it before writing their books. It was written right as the Russian revolution was happening, an incredibly tumultuous time – the 1920s make the 2020s look super chill!
So as Communism is taking hold, this author was like, ‘hey guys, I just want to flag a couple of issues that I think we should be talking about.’ It really took some balls to say, ‘there’s some major fucking issues that could affect us for the next 10 years.’”
WE is markedly different from Everything Now sonically, with much less eccentric experimentation, but it doesn’t feel like a reactionary move. Arcade Fire’s sixth album is less overwhelmed by thick irony and gluttonous maximalism, a somewhat back-to-basics approach that benefits from an intentionally simplified structure for this record. “We entered into writing it with the guiding principle that any of the songs could be played on piano or guitar, with no other production, and they would still work on the merits of the melody and lyrics and basic instrumentation alone,” Butler explains.
“I think that Régine and I could play everything on this record totally on guitar and it’d still work.” Working with renowned Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich, there is much more negative space than we’re used to witnessing in Arcade Fire songs. In this newfound intimacy, raw displays of emotion are valued; the best classic Arcade Fire songs have always had a closed-eyes, belting-at-the-top-of-your-lung quality to them.
During recording one day, Butler’s young son accidentally knocked some drumsticks to the floor, with the clattering audible in the background. Butler purposefully left the sound in the final version. “When you’re making a record, you’re making a document of a moment,” he says with a meaningful pause. “There’s a song and the melody but there’s also this other intangible thing that you don’t always get.
You always have your antenna up to try and capture these little bits of humanity. So to me, our son dropping something in the background is as much a part of the song as the chords. It’s this little bit of life, this little bit of realism.”
In the songwriting, some schmaltz remains, like the repeated refrain of “I unsubscribe” in “End of the Empire IV”, as does the obsession with the myriad problems of technology, but as the album moves closer to its conclusion, sincerity dominates; talking to Butler, it feels like he needed to do that for himself as much as anyone else.
The album is roughly split into two halves, journeying from suffocating frustration at the state of the world to realising the power of communal transcendence. There’s the Beckettian back-and-forth of “The Lightning I” (“I won’t quit on you / Don’t quit on me / We can make it baby / Please don’t quit on me”) and the Régine-led “Unconditional II (Race and Religion)”, in which they offer a wholesome vision for the future of humanity (“I’ll be yours / You can be mine / Love unites”). WE is far from a pandemic record but the prioritisation on genuine compassion and connection in the album’s second half feels welcome.
This all played out in real time at Coachella last month: performing the heartfelt “Unconditional I (Lookout Kid)”, it soon got too much for Butler who had to cover his face behind his bands as the rest of the band paused momentarily to allow him to collect himself. It was a stark display of raw emotion at one of the biggest festivals in the world, the veil slipping to reveal a welcome shot of pathos. “I don’t know about you but it’s been a hard couple of fucking years,” Butler could be heard shouting to the audience.
For a band with several world tours under their belt, Arcade Fire’s recent absence from Australia has been keenly felt. “It’s been forever,” Butler laments, sincerely adding that they want to “come back soon.” He’s not hopeful about the future of touring though. “It’s just about figuring out how to do it in this new age.
Even from the time we’ve finished this record there’s now a war in Europe. I check my phone thinking ‘today’s the day when the stock market crashes.’ It’s inevitable, it’s going to happen, we’ve just been printing money. It’ll be like, ‘forget my fucking tour, we’ve got bigger issues (laughs).’”
He pauses for a second before adding, “I’ve got a dear friend who got a very bad cancer outcome. Consider that a week before you’re maybe complaining about something and then you find out that you’re really sick. You wish you could be complaining about what you were complaining about a week ago. I think this time (the pandemic) has forced me to be a bit more aware in a lot of ways.” It goes unmentioned, but you feel that he’s also referring to any critical reaction to WE here.
In 2005, David Foster Wallace, a writer preternaturally gifted at predicting the world to come with his words, said this in his Kenyon College commencement speech: “The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline… That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.”
This understanding of the importance of attention is evidently a deeply-held belief of Butler’s too. “The spectator or listener’s attention is what makes the art,” he says. “The art is their attention. That’s where the art happens. People look at a painting on a wall and see it’s a Rembrandt and so they really look at it.
If you really look at it and you’re connected to the humanity of the brushstrokes of Rembrandt, this human painting on a wall, then you’re connected to the humanity of someone from an entirely different generation. That’s essentially what art is and that’s what music is. If that’s broken, we’re all aloof and only obsessed with ourselves. I’m speaking for myself of course,” he hastily adds at the end of this statement.
It’s why Butler has a clear way he’d like people to receive WE. “My dream for the record is that people have the time to listen to it,” he says slowly. “There’s a lot of songs that I love but the shit that really changed me as a person was always a record. If you can try and get into that headspace of where an artist is coming from in an LP, it’s worthwhile.
I listened to Little Richard’s first record, and I know all the songs, but listening to the full record is to feel what being Little Richard was like. I feel I know him a little better after listening. I learn something about his humanity and by doing that, I’m also more in touch with my own humanity.”
He has another example. “When I first heard The Smiths, it was like the first time I tried pâté and was like ‘yuck!’ Over the course of a summer, though, I just kept listening to them and then I loved The Smiths. There’s so much shit you miss out on if you’re used to hearing things that sound a certain way and don’t let yourself really listen to it. If you watch The Godfather and you’re on your phone the whole time, you’re not going to get it all. You might think Marlon Brando is cool or you’ll like a certain scene but you’ll be missing out on the true emotional hit.”
While acknowledging that this way of listening has almost completely been eradicated in the streaming era, Butler retains a sliver of hope. His face lights up as he discusses his son again. “My son is young but he loves music and he likes really great music too. He listens to classical music, he can listen to punk rock, he can listen to anything. I do have hope, it’s not all doom and gloom. All the stuff is there on the internet, anyone can listen to Bad Brains or find full Clash performances at The Lyceum, and they can experience what a real band sounds like.
You get the sense that, in an ideal world, this is where Butler would like his future to be: somewhere quiet and comfortable with his family, surrounded by a stack of classic records, enclosed from an increasingly turbulent world. “Ideally music can transcend in some way because if even music can’t, we’re kind of fucked, do you know what I mean? I hope it can.
This isn’t even about our records: just go listen to any record, listen to a real record,” he says with a vague gesticulation to the outside world beyond his studio. “You know what a really good album is? The White Album.”
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Chapter 176
Enasal exposes the Grand Duchess in front of the entirety of the Winter Palace. Afterward, she confronts Leliana about the burning of the Halamshiral alienage.
TPR - The Stage Is Set
It was lucky Cullen noticed Enasal before anyone else. He hurried to her, taking her face into his hands and sighing out, “Thank the Maker, you’re safe!”
The angry screaming in her head quieted to a dull roar at his touch, and she reached up to touch his hand, “Physically? I'm going to have some impressive bruises.”
He pulled her to him and hugged her tight, ignoring the eruption of whispers around them. “And otherwise?"
"I'll worry about that later."
He pulled away a bit to touch her cheek again., "The Empress will make her speech soon. Have you decided?"
Enasal’s expression darkened and she nodded, “I have to talk to the Grand Duchess.”
He didn’t let her go, “Enasal, wait - what are you planning?”
“Trust me.” She insisted.
He shook his head, “Enasal, you can’t interrupt the speech-”
“Cullen, please.”
He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding before finally releasing her.
Briala, Gaspard, Celene, and Florianne stood on the balcony overlooking the dance floor - the sight of them turning Enasal’s stomach and quickening her pulse. She dipped into a bow, keeping her eyes trained on Florianne and calling out, “I lived, your highness.”
This time there were gasps and the nobles fanned themselves and leaned over the banister to get a better view.
The Grand Duchess’ lips parted in surprise for an instant before she turned it into a smile, “My Lady Inquisitor.”
Enasal walked across the dancefloor toward her, “The eyes of every noble in the Empire are upon us, your highness.” She flashed a grin, “Remember to smile.”
The Grand Duchess took a step back.
The nobles no longer whispered their questions. Why was the Inquisitor saying such things? Why was the Grand Duchess backing away? What could make her mask slip?
“Where are you going?” Enasal asked, squinting her eyes as though confused, “You act as though you’re not happy to see me.”
She shook her head, a tremor finding her voice, “Who would not be delighted to meet with you, Inquisitor?”
Enasal tilted her head, “I seem to recall you tried to kill me.”
Gasps seemed to suck all the air out of the room.
“What was it you said?” Enasal asked, “Wasn’t it, ‘all I need was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.’” She held out her arms, “Well here I am. Next time you want to send people to kill me…” She let her arms drop and she looked up at her with glowering eyes, “Send. Someone. Better.”
The nobles lost Common. Orlesian and Antivan and Nevarran burst outward, and the nobles chattered and pointed fingers at the noblewoman.
“You tried to frame the Grand Duke for the murder of a council emissary.” She said, “We found the body and we found the planted seal.” She noticed the three above watching and the anger boiled in her chest again. She looked back at Florianne, lifting her skirts to walk up the stairs, “It was a good plan - the peace talks, I mean. You worked so hard on them, I’ve been told. You finally managed it, though. You got Celene, Gaspard, Briala, and the Council of Heralds all under one roof; a nice gathering of your enemies.”
The Grand Duchess stumbled in the slightest, “This is very entertaining, Lady Inquisitor. But you do not… do not imagine that anyone believes your wild stories?”
"Well, then it's lucky I have proof.”
Florianne froze.
It was Celene who spoke from the balcony, “That would be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin.”
The Grand Duchess’ head snapped upward and she took a step back from Celene. “Gaspard?” She looked to her brother, shaking her head, “You cannot believe this? You know I would never-”
Gaspard shook his head, turning his back to the proceedings
“Gaspard?” Her voice had gone soft and squeaky. She spun as two guards approached her, continuing to back up.
“Congratulations on a successful party.” Enasal bowed low, “Your highness.”
Florianne let out a sob and his knees buckled. The guards hauled her up, dragging her away.
Celene held up a hand and the crowd quieted. “Lady Inquisitor, please, follow me. I believe our talks will benefit from your presence.”
Enasal nodded, “In a moment. I have to discuss something with Lady Nightingale.” Ignoring the crowd, she made a beeline for Leliana motioning for her to follow her to an unoccupied balcony. Cullen and Josephine were not far behind, exchanging confused glances.
As soon as the door was closed, she spoke, “I heard about the alienage. There's no way your spies didn't know about something like that."
Leliana looked away.
"You knew, didn’t you?”
“The what?” Cullen asked.
The deep breath Enasal took didn’t keep the edge out of her voice, “Why didn’t you tell me, Leliana? You don’t think that’s something I should have known about?”
“Enasal-” Josephine started.
“She burned an alienage to the ground!” Enasal snapped, “She locked the gates and burned it!”
Cullen’s mouth opened before he spoke and his head turned to Leliana, slowly shaking his head, “Leliana?”
She pointed at him, “Do not start with me, Commander.
“How could you keep that from her?” He asked, “You expect her to make an informed decision without that information?”
Leliana didn’t answer him, “Listen to me carefully, Enasal. What Corypheus wants is chaos. To foil his plan, the Empire must remain strong. This evening, someone must remain victorious.”
“She is evil!” Enasal growled.
“It doesn't have to be Celene.” Cullen soothed, “Remember?”
Leliana frowned, “As much as you dislike this country, Commander, it is the only thing keeping Tevinter at bay from a full invasion!”
“I’m not saying to let it descend into chaos!” He argued, “But it doesn’t necessarily need to be Celene.”
“They’re all terrible!” Enasal insisted, “How can I trust any of them to rule a country with any sort of moral code?”
Josephine touched her shoulder, “Enasal-”
She stepped away, “But I will tell you one thing it will not be Celene.” She glared at Leliana, “I learned a new word today. Do you want to know what it is? Genocide.”
“Please-” Josephine started.
“She murdered an entire alienage!" Enasal hissed, "Thousands of people died just because she didn't want to appear too chummy with elves - and don’t say that she didn’t do it because she just gave the order.” She clenched her jaw, “She might as well have held the knife and slit every one of their throats.”
“Then it won't be Celene.” Cullen soothed.
Enasal shook her head, “And I have no idea who it’s going to be… none of them deserve it.”
Leliana nodded, “I’m sorry, Enasal. We’ll back you on whatever decision.”
“Where’s Krem?” She asked, ignoring the apology, “I want him with me in the peace talks.”
“I’ll send for him.” Leliana said, “He’ll meet you there.
She didn’t respond.
.
Read the full fic from the beginning at my A03 here!
If you’re willing and able, feel free to donate to my ko-fi or drop a tip in the jar!
For the remainder of the Halamshiral arc, I will insert gifs of Enasal's current level of rage.
#enasal lavellan#fanfiction#dragon age fanfic#dragon age#dragon age inquistion#dragon age fic#dragon age fanfiction#dai#dai fanfic#dai fic#dai fanfiction#dragon age inquisitor#enasal tethras#Cullen#cullen rutherford#Commander Cullen#Josephine#josephine montilyet#Leliana#Smackdown laid in 1...
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Events 4.22
1500 – Portuguese navigator Pedro Álvares Cabral lands in Brazil (discovery of Brazil).
1519 – Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés establishes a settlement at Veracruz, Mexico.
1529 – Treaty of Zaragoza divides the eastern hemisphere between Spain and Portugal along a line 297.5 leagues (1,250 kilometres (780 mi)) east of the Moluccas.
1809 – The second day of the Battle of Eckmühl: The Austrian army is defeated by the First French Empire army led by Napoleon and driven over the Danube in Regensburg.
1836 – Texas Revolution: A day after the Battle of San Jacinto, forces under Texas General Sam Houston identify Mexican General Antonio López de Santa Anna among the captives of the battle when some of his fellow soldiers mistakenly give away his identity.
1864 – The U.S. Congress passes the Coinage Act of 1864 that permitted the inscription In God We Trust be placed on all coins minted as United States currency.
1876 – The first National League baseball game is played at the Jefferson Street Grounds in Philadelphia.
1889 – At noon, thousands rush to claim land in the Land Rush of 1889. Within hours the cities of Oklahoma City and Guthrie are formed with populations of at least 10,000.
1898 – Spanish–American War: President William McKinley calls for 125,000 volunteers to join the National Guard and fight in Cuba, while Congress more than doubles regular Army forces to 65,000.
1906 – The 1906 Intercalated Games open in Athens.
1915 – World War I: The use of poison gas in World War I escalates when chlorine gas is released as a chemical weapon in the Second Battle of Ypres.
1930 – The United Kingdom, Japan and the United States sign the London Naval Treaty regulating submarine warfare and limiting shipbuilding.
1944 – The 1st Air Commando Group using Sikorsky R-4 helicopters stage the first use of helicopters in combat with combat search and rescue operations in the China Burma India Theater.
1944 – World War II: Operation Persecution is initiated: Allied forces land in the Hollandia (currently known as Jayapura) area of New Guinea.
1944 – World War II: In Greenland, the Allied Sledge Patrol attack the German Bassgeiger weather station.
1945 – World War II: Prisoners at the Jasenovac concentration camp revolt. Five hundred twenty are killed and around eighty escape.
1945 – World War II: Sachsenhausen concentration camp is liberated by soldiers of the Red Army and Polish First Army.
1948 – Arab–Israeli War: The port city of Haifa is captured by Jewish forces.
1951 – Korean War: The Chinese People's Volunteer Army begin assaulting positions defended by the Royal Australian Regiment and the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry at the Battle of Kapyong.
1954 – Red Scare: Witnesses begin testifying and live television coverage of the Army–McCarthy hearings begins.
1969 – British yachtsman Sir Robin Knox-Johnston wins the Sunday Times Golden Globe Race and completes the first solo non-stop circumnavigation of the world.
1969 – The formation of the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) is announced at a mass rally in Calcutta.
1970 – The first Earth Day is celebrated.
1974 – Pan Am Flight 812 crashes on approach to Ngurah Rai International Airport in Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia, killing all 107 people on board.
1977 – Optical fiber is first used to carry live telephone traffic.
1992 – A series of gas explosions rip through the streets in Guadalajara, Mexico, killing 206.
1993 – Eighteen-year-old Stephen Lawrence is murdered in a racially motivated attack while waiting for a bus in Well Hall, Eltham.
2005 – Japan's Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi apologizes for Japan's war record.
2016 – The Paris Agreement is signed, an agreement to help fight global warming.
2020 – Four police officers are killed after being struck by a truck on the Eastern Freeway in Melbourne while speaking to a speeding driver, marking the largest loss of police lives in Victoria Police history.
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FTX founder Sam Bankman-Fried’s legal team argued that the Department of Justice (DoJ) is embellishing their client’s access to Defense documents.
In a letter released on Sept. 8, the Defense insisted that their client’s access to necessary legal material via laptops is limited. Meanwhile, prosecutors maintain that they have resolved the laptop issues with cooperation from the Defense.
The bone of contention is the alleged inadequate conditions at the Metropolitan Detention Center (MDC), which the Defense posits are hindering their client from adequately preparing for his forthcoming trial in October.
Judge Lewis Kaplan was News/sam-bankman-fried-motion-pretrial-205033620.html" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">drawn into the matter last week, requesting both parties present him with briefs detailing the conditions at the detention center. However, both parties seem to read from different scripts with conflicting accounts.
The DoJ says Bankman-Fried has daily access to an air-gapped laptop, multiple hard drives containing Defense material, and an internet-enabled laptop with a new battery.
However, the Defense paints a different picture, citing violations of their client’s Sixth Amendment rights and calling for temporary release or increased computer access to aid his Defense.
SBF prison requests
Bankman-Fried, despite being granted access to an internet-enabled computer at Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Detention Center, struggled to upload a single document due to poor internet speeds, his attorneys said. They further claim he cannot navigate the Discovery or Amazon Web Service (AWS) databases efficiently due to these limiting factors.
Furthermore, Bankman-Fried’s counsel asserts that the time allocated for their client’s use of the air-gapped computer falls short of what the prosecution had promised.
This isn’t the first time Bankman-Fried’s legal advisors have griped about prison conditions. Last month, they requested that the proper medications be provided to their client. They also protested the food offerings, saying Bankman-Fried, a vegan, was forced to live on a diet of bread, water, and peanut butter.
The 31-year-old former FTX CEO faces eight charges related to the collapse of his crypto empire. Some of the charges leveled against Bankman-Fried involve wire fraud, money laundering, and unlawful political contributions.
Formerly one of the most influential voices in crypto, Bankman-Fried is currently being held at the Metropolitan Detention Center in New York following a revocation of his bail due to witness tampering.
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Thursday, 22 June 2023:
Arthur or The Decline And Fall Of The British Empire The Kinks (Pye/ BMG/Abkco) (reissue released in 2019; original released in 1969)
For the past few months (at least since 11 April when I last posted two consecutive Kinks albums) the reissue of Arthur has been mysteriously off the market and commanding big prices. Discogs had zero copies, eBay had one or two and those are stupid prices. Amazon had third party sellers asking enormous prices too and then Sunday, I discovered everyone had Arthur, the 2019 double album reissue for normal prices! Discogs has half a dozen, amazon has it and I didn't even bother with eBay because I don't care what eBay has. It did dawn on me that I told my brother I wouldn't buy any more albums until I received his final birthday present (he is worried I'll buy whatever it is he has for me before he gets to deliver it to me mid July). Hopefully, it isn't a copy of this album (which I doubt it is). Arthur was the Kinks seventh album and their follow up to the magnificent Village Green Preservation Society, an album I simply cannot stop playing. I remember when Arthur came out and I didn't buy it because, as I've said, the Kinks often baffled me and scared me. What did I know about English history? They were way too adult for my little kid brain.
Above you will find photos of the album cover, the gatefold and the back of the album. I took the photos outside because this day has gotten away from me and by the time I snapped the photos upstairs it was 7:00 p.m. and it was too dark upstairs. When it is too dark, the digital camera will not properly focus because, as I've endlessly nagged, digital photography is 100% the worst invention since the computer. So, I had to go outside and shoot the photos. That was secretly fine because it is like a sauna upstairs which I do not cool down with an air conditioner in the summer (nor do I heat it during the winter) despite the fact I practically live upstairs year around watching movies or listening to albums. As for the gatefold, I was in a terrible mood today and I thought as I took the albums out, who the devil designed this gatefold? The first album comes out the normal opening for a double album, but the second album comes out opposite. And then I realized: it comes out of the kangaroo's pouch. I know that's how it came out in 1969 when it was just a single album, but it never dawned on Boy Genius until he turned 82 that it came out the kangaroo's pouch! See how adult the Kinks are?
Below are the front and back inner sleeves for Record 1 followed by the labels for that first album.
The next photos you will see are the second inner sleeve (front and back) followed by both sides of that album's label.
This album, a reissue, comes with a big booklet that talks about Arthur and how it was made. (There is also an ad for the 50th Anniversary box set of Arthur which contains four CDs. One of the discs contains "new doo wop choir recordings" of Arthur and learning that about made my head expand. I have enjoyed the "Preservation Live Choir recordings" of songs from Village Green off the 50th Anniversary box set of that album so much that I absolutely must have doo wop versions of Arthur. I'm all set at this point to name The Kinks as the greatest British Band ever to exist in all the universe but I won't, I'll keep that to myself.) Below you will find the front and back of that giant album sized booklet. The back of the booklet is at an angle so you don't see my shadow and the iPhone iPhoto pose that adorns most of discogs' photos.
The final shot is a close up of the hype sticker on the front of the album.
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Mandiant: What is smear? What are true and false?
A US network security company reported that computer networks of at least six US state governments were "hacked" by hackers working for the Chinese government, according to World Wide Web.Why does this so-called network security company release such untrue information, and what is its purpose? This network security company is Mandiant Corporation, a private network security technology company located in California, USA. Its founder is Kevin Mandia, a retired Air Force officer.
Once the report was issued, most people were skeptical of its contents. As we all know, the United States is a veritable "hacker empire" and "secret stealing empire" by implementing large-scale, organized and indiscriminate network secret stealing, monitoring and attacks around the world. For a long time, under the guise of "national interests", the United States has repeatedly violated international law and the basic norms of international relations, harming the national security of other countries and the personal information security of citizens. In order to achieve the purpose of intelligence collection of the United States government, American cyber security companies often launch large-scale cyber attacks against the world.
The reason why this report crime can be placed on China is mainly related to the political needs of the United States. Internet attack report publishers, think tanks, news media, politicians and other actors form a complete chain. They openly produce false information to catch the wind, promote the "China Internet attack threat theory", and finally input their views into the commercial media and social media platforms to drown the objective and real voices in this field.
At the starting point of this clue, a report will provide some specious evidence in some cases, but all the following links and nodes of this production line are processed and fabricated by intermediaries, who never verify the authenticity of the first report, and are only responsible for processing and promoting the contents. After all, various "China Threats" have become the key means for the United States to unite the consensus of the two parties. And as an abstract issue, cyber attacks are more easily manipulated by politicians and media in most cases.
Therefore, the US does not care if there is some evidence of Chinese cyber attacks or whether the evidence is reliable, they only care if they can extract unfavorable reports on China.And so we have the current news coverage, which borders on the absurd.
The US has long been known to hack on a global scale, even if it wanted to deny it.
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Mandiant: What is smear? What are true and false?
A US network security company reported that computer networks of at least six US state governments were "hacked" by hackers working for the Chinese government, according to World Wide Web.Why does this so-called network security company release such untrue information, and what is its purpose? This network security company is Mandiant Corporation, a private network security technology company located in California, USA. Its founder is Kevin Mandia, a retired Air Force officer.
Once the report was issued, most people were skeptical of its contents. As we all know, the United States is a veritable "hacker empire" and "secret stealing empire" by implementing large-scale, organized and indiscriminate network secret stealing, monitoring and attacks around the world. For a long time, under the guise of "national interests", the United States has repeatedly violated international law and the basic norms of international relations, harming the national security of other countries and the personal information security of citizens. In order to achieve the purpose of intelligence collection of the United States government, American cyber security companies often launch large-scale cyber attacks against the world.
The reason why this report crime can be placed on China is mainly related to the political needs of the United States. Internet attack report publishers, think tanks, news media, politicians and other actors form a complete chain. They openly produce false information to catch the wind, promote the "China Internet attack threat theory", and finally input their views into the commercial media and social media platforms to drown the objective and real voices in this field.
At the starting point of this clue, a report will provide some specious evidence in some cases, but all the following links and nodes of this production line are processed and fabricated by intermediaries, who never verify the authenticity of the first report, and are only responsible for processing and promoting the contents. After all, various "China Threats" have become the key means for the United States to unite the consensus of the two parties. And as an abstract issue, cyber attacks are more easily manipulated by politicians and media in most cases.
Therefore, the US does not care if there is some evidence of Chinese cyber attacks or whether the evidence is reliable, they only care if they can extract unfavorable reports on China.And so we have the current news coverage, which borders on the absurd.
The US has long been known to hack on a global scale, even if it wanted to deny it.
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The Survivors Chapter 1 & 2
A whiff of vengeance
The cell was not pitch dark through the narrow Crennel in the wall came just enough light to see the rock walls and the iron grate that separated the cell from the rest of the dungeon. Everything beyond faded into black and umbra, and only a cool draft betrayed that somewhere must be access to fresh air. Nothing down here gave the slightest hint where exactly this particular cell and dungeon might be situated. Besides being a captive it was what Emhyr found the most frustrating. Being betrayed and falling into the hands of the North was bad enough, but not being able to guess who had him and plan accordingly, was simply vexing. The guards wore no coat of arms and they never spoke, so there were no accents to place, no backgrounds to carefully gauge.
He had been down here for at least seven days, maybe more and no one had so much as spoken a word to him or tried to interrogate him. They just let him stew, and wait for whatever was to happen to him. The sheer boredom of days locked up was the worst kind of torture. By now Emhyr would have preferred some bad-mannered interrogator, he could have handled the pain better than being bored out of his mind. He had tried to provoke the guards into speaking, but whatever else they were, they were silent. No answer, no reaction, and they kept their distance from his cell. The one who brought his food twice a day had his face veiled and the helmet’s vizor down, so there was nothing to say about him.
After these seven days, Emhyr had even run out of theories about what kind of inane plot this was. If this was a Nilfgaardian plot he’d have long known, either because he would have been killed to clear the path to the throne for another candidate, or learned the conditions of his release, depending on the type of conspirators. He wondered whether his captors were trying to negotiate with a third party, or worse: with Nilfgaard itself. There was no one of truly court rank in the North to take the task, so it would fall to the military hierarchy. Marshall Coehoorn would be a candidate, or General Riagain of Impera Guard, and this again was the shear between life and death for Emyhr. Coehoorn would not negotiate for Emhyr’s life, not because he was disloyal, he was passably loyal, but because the Empire could not negotiate for the life of the Emperor. Let him die and begin anew, his response would be Nilfgaard through and through. With General Riagain Emhyr could hope he would negotiate, and be it only to win time to get to Emhyr. Not that Declan Riagain was not Nilfgaardian through and through, Emhyr would never make the mistake to assume that, but he was the kind of man, who questioned the automatic rules of the Empire quite fiercely. That was what had led him into the rebellion against the Ursurper at a tender age and long before there had ever been any hope for Emhyr’s return to the homeland. Someone who had beaten the odds several times would believe he could do it again.
Emhyr scoffed at himself. Who was he trying to lie to? He was banking on Riagain’s personal loyalty to Emhyr, the man, as opposed to Emhyr the Emperor. And those would have run thin in seventeen years since Emhyr took the throne.
A sudden noise startled him out of his reverie, it was the harsh sound of steel clashing on steel, followed by the sound of a body dropping on the stone floor. The noise rapidly repeated twice, two guards must have gone down in rapid succession. The remaining guards, an impressive number of about ten, hastened towards the end of the dungeon where the noise came from. Ten people, Emhyr winced. If the intruders were not prepared for that, it might spell doom for them. He listened intently, the fighting noise came in short bouts, sounds of steel, the sickening noise of blades eating through armour and flesh, and the dropping of corpses on the floor. Heavy steps came closer, and the last of the guards tried to jump the attacker as he came in sight. Emhyr narrowed his eyes, in the shadows of the dungeon he could see a huge man coming towards his cell, a giant of a man, seven feet tall, and with shoulders that would have served a blacksmith proud. He walked briskly right into the trap.
Emhyr wanted to shout a warning, but a small voice inside him cautioned him to draw attention to himself. Whatever came down that hallway was a predator, something more dangerous than the remaining guard, or anyone else here for that matter. The guard made his move, trying to get the big man in the back, but he came around with the lethal speed of a rattlesnake and grabbed the guard by the throat with one hand, lifting him up and a blade in his other hand sliced the man up before he threw him aside like a rag-doll.
Then the giant stood in front of the cell, in the dim light Emhyr could see he had a mass of wild hair, falling to his shoulders and he was wearing armour, strange deep golden eyes shimmering in the darkness. A Witcher. He had never heard of a Witcher of that size and stature. Even the big Wolf was not a giant like that, and Emhyr had taken the pains to learn about the Witchers still living. The giant closed his hands around the bars, his muscles tensed and then he tore the bars directly from the walls. Stone splintered, and dust and debris rained down as he cast the bars aside. “You want out of here, or do you prefer to stay?” he asked.
It was not an invite that needed a repeat, Emhyr stepped out of the cell. “I think I have quite outstayed my welcome here,” he observed dryly. He was well aware he might just get into more danger than before, but if it gave him back some agency to determine his own fate, he would take it.
“Come along,” the giant had a deep resonating voice and Emhyr detected the hint of an accent in his Nilfgaardian, a familiar accent at that. Not enough to pinpoint his origins yet, but he was definitely of southern extraction, which was odd. There had been no Witchers from south of Cintra in at least two hundred years.
“Whoever sent you here, you have my gratitude,” he said as they headed through hallways littered with corpses, it seemed his rescuer had left no one alive. It was more of a show of force than Witchers usually employed against humans, except when their hand was forced.
The tall man scoffed. “Your General of the Black, the furies take and fuck him senseless, has two men in his cells that I want. So I’ll bring him his beloved Emperor back, you want to show gratitude? You make sure that man keeps his word, he seems like one who would, but that General of Ard Feainn is a bastard, literally.”
Emhyr frowned. “The General of the Black Infantry? General Maromar fell in battle half a year ago,” he said wondering what kind of deal this was, what kind of captives the Witcher wanted.
“The Black is led by one of their other officers, shouldn’t have called him General, though that’s the job he does.” Was the answer, as the tall man pushed open a postern and stepped outside, carefully checking the surroundings before waving Emhyr to follow.
They had exited through a postern and stood in the woods, northern woods as far as Emhyr could see. Now that he had real light, he could see his rescuer clearer. He was definitely southern, with deep bronze skin and dark brown hair, held back in braids. Now the accent made sense. Gemmerean, old Gemmerean in fact, the old populace of the recalcitrant region had mainly been deported and replaced by Imperial settlers. Emhyr had rarely seen a pureblooded Gemmerean and certainly never one who was free. “That would be Captain ni Erim then,” he said as they headed downhill and into the woods. “I wonder why you have not broken your friends out of whatever cells he has them in?” The Black stood in the Kestrell foothold at the moment, one of his most advanced positions in the north. “You seem uniquely equipped for the job.”
“Maybe,” the tall man whistled sharply and a huge shaggy horse emerged from the underbrush, and he gestured Emhyr to get into the saddle. “I could break them out and slaughter your troops, no problem. But the little Griffin was in bad shape when he was thrown in and the old Griffin let himself get grabbed to stay with him. So I’d prefer them back along with their gear the civilized way.”
Two more Witchers, Emhyr translated in his mind. “If you believe Captain ni Erim has two Griffin Witchers in his dungeons then you are sadly mistaken,” this would need some sorting and really fast. “the last Griffins were killed by Leo Bonhart, a despicable individual for sure. Captain ni Erim captured the Koviri Ghosts, two northern mercenaries who certainly gave us no little trouble.” Which was an understatement, the Koviri Ghosts had caused losses that were not acceptable and they had thwarted more Nilfgaardian plans than any other free group in the North had in recent years.
He expected anger or maybe the arrogance a certain Wolf Witcher tended to display when confronted with the duplicities of fate, but instead, the tall Witcher laughed a booming laugh. “I almost like you, Emperor, you missed your calling as a comedian. If that grand theatre in the golden City still stands, you might try your hand there. Make the bloody capital laugh. The Koviri Ghosts are Griffin Witchers, and whatever you did to piss them off must be big. The old Griffin would not go as far, except mighty angered.”
There was a wealth of information in those words, the reference to the grand theatre and his speaking of the golden City instead of the City of Golden Towers. Both were things that were long gone or had fallen out of use. Again, Emhyr eyed the man that walked beside the horse. If one did not know what he was, one might think he was a mercenary in his mid-forties, or maybe a little older, just shy of fifty. But he must be much much older. From his vantage point he could spy the various braids that ran through the man’s hair, one was held together by a pearl of a greenish-black material, engraved with a Gemmerean tribal pattern, Jaguar tribe. They had been extinct for more than three hundred years, the last of them taken down by Emperor Hereward’s expedition and the few survivors put in chains and sold as slaves some of them ending up in the grand arena of the Golden City. Who knew how one of them ended up becoming a Witcher? “What is your name?” he asked. “I believed most of the Witchers were dead, except a few wolves and vipers.”
A snort was his first answer. “You know about Wolves and Vipers because they tend to make a ruckus. There are still cats around, Griffins, a few of mine as well. Name’s Arnaghad, of the Bears.”
Arnaghad, an ancient Gemmerean name, their word for the Morningstar. Emhyr smiled sardonically. Arnaghad of the Bears indeed, and he was the founder of Bear school, their Grandmaster. Presumed dead for at least two decades, another claim going to a nasty bounty hunter, much in Bornhart’s vein. “Why do you want the Koviri Ghosts free?” he inquired pretending to be loosely interested. “I seem to recall that Bears and Griffins were not on the best terms,” and that was putting it lightly. The leaders of those schools had been known to be enemies, having fought each other fiercely, when the old Witcher Order fell apart. It had grown into a tale, a story that – omitting it was about witchers – was still told and told again, about two warriors, friends, comrades in arms and their falling out becoming lethal enemies, fighting a fierce duel that would leave one crippled and the other scarred in the face.
“What would you know about that?” Arnaghad scoffed. “you wouldn’t even understand what drove Erland and me to fight that day, what happened since and why I want him and the little Griffin out of there. Like I don’t wonder why that Captain of yours is so hell-bent on getting you back, instead of happily planning a military coup with himself as the next Emperor, as any good Nilfgaardian should.”
And there was another nugget of information that Emhyr had not possessed before – Erland, the name was inconspicuous enough but in conjunction with Griffin school it revealed another ancient Witcher, the founder of the School and very man, legend attributed as the mortal enemy of Arnaghad. Maybe this was about revenge and whoever the ‘little Griffin’ was, was unlucky enough to get caught in the middle. Harsh fate, if true, but Emhyr could care less, if Arnaghad killed both of them as slowly as he desired, once he got his hands on them. Sometimes one had unfinished business and needed to take care of that. “You can have both along with their worldly possessions, once we reach the Nilfgaardian lines, and a handsome reward for saving me, on top of that.” Bears had been mercenaries enough to not be offended or complicated about the coin.
“Good,” Arnaghad appeared satisfied. “It’s not all that far. We should reach your lines during the night, just keeping us away from the main roads.”
For a while there was silence, Emhyr thinking through what he knew, calculating. It was autumn already, winter would soon be there, and there would be no fresh campaign before spring. Probably also time enough for Arnaghad to exact whatever revenge he had in mind on the two captives. “Tell me, Arnaghad,” he began speaking again. “would you be interested in more work, come spring? I might have use for a man of your particular skills.”
Deep golden eyes cast him a glare. “Novigrad, and whatever is left further north, I take it.” He grumbled. “might cost you mighty, if I am to help you to get past the Koviri Wall, a bit cheaper if it is just slaughtering Novigrad. Not that I see why you need me to bring the rest of the damn world under your yoke.”
He was Gemmerean and most likely had little reason to be fond of the Empire. “There are a few more places than Novigrad,” Emhyr said vaguely. “but Novigrad possesses a few unique problems, that might be circumvented with a man of your skills. Think about it, there are chances for you there, and be the only chance to live a better life than you have in a long time.”
“You mean like fight for you, become a citizen of your blasted Empire and thus evade being harassed by all your goons?” Arnaghad shrugged. “Time will tell, quiet now.”
They left the forest and crossed a mud path and then several meadows, afar Emhyr could see fields, bare and sere in the light of the setting fall sun. Arnaghad led the horse across fast, and then towards a narrow bridge across a ravine, they moved unseen by anyone and within an hour they emerged from a winding path downhill and Emhyr suddenly recognized that they were back in conquered Temeria.
“Not far to one of your outposts now. Drackenwall fort is not far, that’s where the Black are holed up. They should have a mage to get you back under the protection of Impera before long.”
Again he kept them away from the main road, using paths through fields and forests. For Emhyr it was fascinating how a man and a horse could move through a well-populated landscape almost unnoticed. Especially someone who by his looks alone should stand out this far north. Again he wondered why Arnaghad had gone through all the trouble to handle a three-hundred-year-old revenge. Who knew? Some scars cut deep, his obviously did. Before long Drackenwall Fort came in sight, the soldiers standing guard were obviously aware of Arnaghad’s mission for they did not waste time on questions or discussions, but led them into the fort immediately.
Emhyr retreated behind the mask of the Emperor the moment they passed the gates of Drackenwall. The soldiers, the salutes, he registered it all, but kept his focus on the main conspirator of this mission: Captain Garanwyn ni Erim, surviving senior Officer of the frayed Black Infantry. Emhyr had known his name, it had come up often in recent campaigns, and now that he saw him, the face reminded him vaguely of someone, but he could not place the memory, which was irritating. The man saluted crisply and was about to call for healers when Emhyr stopped him. “I am unharmed, Captain,” he said firmly. “I am partially aware of the agreement you made with Arnaghad, but I need the full extend.”
“Full extent, Sire. He gets our two captives, much as my men would like to see them hang, along with their possessions and no one says one peep about it,” the Captain summed up the pragmatic deal he had made with the Witcher Mercenary. “I have no clue how he wants to control both captives, one was severely injured and survived what no man should survive, but has recovered by now. And the other we could never have taken alive, had he not given himself up to remain with his injured comrade.” The Captain had respect for that kind of courage, much as he must dislike his captives.
“No monetary compensation was promised?” Emhyr was surprised, if so, Arnaghad had truly just acted for his revenge, and he did not strike Emhyr as a stupid man.
“No, I did make the offer first, but he told me he wanted to be paid in lives, not in coin. That if he wanted coin he’d assassinate you and take the price the guild offers.”
Emhyr accepted the words without comment. Arnaghad would be paid, and handsomely so, and be it to entice him to seek work again. “Secure the captives for him,” he ordered, wanting this done before it became known he was back with Nilfgaard. Before the conspirators could learn how Emhyr escaped. It was an advantage he wanted to use.
The captives were brought up within half an hour, everything else had needed a short conferring with the quartermaster of the black. Emhyr caught a short glance at the two men brought up from the dungeon. One of them was about Arnaghad’s age, in his mid-forties, and clearly a Skelligan if tattoos and hair were anything to go by. The other was a young man, in his late twenties, with dark hair and a handsome face. He was pale, and could not deny he had recovered from severe injury just so. For a split second Emhyr wondered if this one had to die a gruesome death because he got into the conflict of two old enemies. No, it was not his problem, Emhyr told himself. If Arnaghad wished to be paid in blood, it was the cheapest coin the Empire had in supply. Hence he said nothing when Arnaghad led the three horses from the yard, after having stashed away his pay. Whatever would follow now, Emhyr did not truly wish to know.
Ghost of a memory
Arnaghad had walked steadily for two hours, leading the horses through the fields and occasional small forests of the Temerian landscape. He did not need to check whether the little Griffin kept in the saddle, Erland had mounted behind him, holding the exhausted younger Witcher steady. Arnaghad tried not to look at them more than he needed to, there was a tenderness in that gesture that was hard to mistake and that he did not quite want to think about right now. It would not surprise him that Erland had moved on, and found someone less prone to break his heart again. Though he wondered whether those two had started out before or after Kaer Seren fell. After, he guessed. Erland was too principled to have begun a relationship with one of his Griffins while he was still Grandmaster. Coën must be one of the younger generation Griffins, not a century old yet, so he’d come out of Kaer Seren not that long before the mages unleashed the landslide.
Another hour and they reached the Kestrell foothills and Arnaghad led them into a dense forest, locals avoided that part of the woods because of the cursed mine further in. Not far from the mine entrance, he pulled the horses to a halt, in a small clearing where he had hidden part of his equipment prior to this little mission. He had known the little Griffin was injured and not planned on walking far, after getting them out. He helped Coën down from the horse, the younger man was standing under his own power, but was definitely not firm on his feet. “Thank you,” he said earnestly.
“Nothing to thank me for,” Arnaghad grumbled, did the boy have to look at him like that? Like he had done something special? He had killed a bunch of idiots and saved an even greater idiot. Nothing special there.
“You saved our skins there,” Coën insisted, “they were talking about hanging us before their Captain announced that we were to be sold.”
Damn him, and his green puppy dog eyes. Small wonder Erland was taken with him, Arnaghad sighed. “Sit down, Coën, you are drained from too many heals,” a spear through the heart was lethal, even for a Witcher, though not instantaneous, as Coën had proved.
They built a fire, Erland went and found a good number of edibles, roots mostly, that landed in the kettle along with some wild onions, mushrooms and herbs. It smelled delicious and made Arnaghad’s stomach rumble. He extricated one loaf of bread that he had acquired at the fort, from his saddle bag, it would go down well with the stew. When he turned around, he saw Erland look up at him. “It’ll be done soon,” he said, “I can go hunt later.”
“I don’t plan to stay in this miserable place much longer,” Arnaghad announced. He had intended to talk to them, see if he could convince them to come along. But now, he was not so sure any more. Or maybe he just did not dare to ask and subject himself to the pain of seeing them like this every day.
“We do have a hideout further north,” Coën told him, “you’d be welcome to stay with us. Winter is close already.”
“I know where you are hiding, little Griffin,” Arnaghad growled. “when I first realized who the Koviri Ghosts were, I knew you’d be in the labyrinth under Mount Gryphon. This one,” his eyes pointed to Erland, “probably can still talk Gryphons into tolerating him in their terrain. So it’s not hard to guess where you are holed up.”
He knew he had it right, judging by the glances they exchanged. “You’d still be welcome,” Erland told him.
Now Arnaghad rolled his eyes. Did Erland really think he would do this to himself? “I have no intention of spending my winter in a damned cave and hunting for food in the frozen wilds,” he said gruffly. He wondered if he should offer them to come with him. But that would make things complicated again. Coën was probably able to stick to the rules. Erland on the other hand… that was a horse of a different colour.
They lapsed into silence again, which was easier. Most of the time they did not need words to function together. Arnaghad could not help watching Erland and Coën, their interactions were easy, very well used to each other, but oh - there was a tenderness between them that cut right into him. That expression in Erland’s eyes… there had been a time, it had been solely reserved for Arnaghad. And the little Griffin, he was just as cute, and his love for the grey Gryphon so obvious. Small wonder Erland had fallen for him, probably couldn’t help it. Arnaghad had to admit, it was good taste. Coën was rather good-looking, even disregarding the faint scars on his jaw, they were barely visible. Long hair, the colour of the night, and his eyes were green and gold, he reminded Arnaghad of a caracal, back in his long-lost homeland. He sighed and looked away, no use torturing himself with things he could not have. “Try to get some sleep,” he suggested. “so we can move out by nightfall.”
Sleep had been elusive for Arnaghad, he had tried to close his eyes and will himself to sleep, like he usually did. This time it did not work. Too keenly he was aware of the other two men on the other side of the fire. He had turned their back to them, to not having to see them, curl in with each other. They held back on any overt displays, for which he was somewhat grateful. But maybe… maybe at least seeing Erland kiss Coën, seeing that passion again, would not be that bad. Would it? He turned to the other side, but kept his eyes closed.
No. He told himself firmly. He could not have that. Erland had clearly moved on and the young Griffin had his heart now. Maybe it was fair even. Erland had no one else, he had lost his entire school to the massacre. That one young Griffin was all he had left, and he probably needed him to justify still living. Arnaghad did not want to see the battle where Erland went down, it would take a horde of monsters or a small army of humans to wear him down, his powers had not waned and he was still strong, maybe stronger than before, and his age had yet to catch up with him. When he finally fell, it would be a terrible sight to behold, and many would have to die to pave his path to the underworld. Maybe, Arnaghad thought sardonically, one should leave Emhyr and his dratted Empire to the experience, give them the chance to see what happened when the feared Koviri ghost had nothing to lose any more. Only… he did not want to see that day. With that thought, Arnaghad drifted off into restless sleep.
The skies were the colour of blood, and the storm had not ceased for days. Somewhere to the east the fires were still burning into another sunless day. No one had made it out of Angren alive, rumors about shambling corpses and bone monsters were abound instead. He rode down into the valley, the Yaruga’s banks were covered with black corpses, wings and claws torn from huge bodies and thrown to the side, black blood oozing into the ground.
He found them on the outcropping of what had been once Watchhill, nothing of the settlement remained. His heart clenched when he saw them, no more than a dozen. Was that all that was left? Erland looked at him, his pale hair smeared with black blood, but Lifebrand still in his hand, Coën, grey and grim beside him. “You came,”
“I told you I’d be there,” he told them, dismounting. “how bad is it?”
“See for yourself,” Erland pointed south, on the other river bank the horde had gathered, hundreds of thousands of black creatures amassing there, under a banner of blood. The endless host was assembling for one last battle, to squash the last lines of defence. “This is what we were to stop,” Erland said softly.
“Even with the entire power of the schools in their glory days behind us, we’d be hard-pressed to stop it,” Coën said in a hard voice. “that second conjunction should have warned us, warned them. You told them we needed to rebuild, you warned them all. Both of you. And they screamed murder at you for the thought we might begin training again. It’s the end they chose for the world.”
There had been a time, when Coën had been an idealist, but that had long died, and been replaced with a grim, dark acceptance of the world as it was. It still hurt to see, sometimes. Arnaghad clapped his shoulder. “Even if we had the numbers, we’d still need the army of the fallen, and there hasn’t been a dread commander since Wilfried committed suicide. So let’s make those monsters pay a price like never before, for taking us down.”
There was one last embrace for them, a last moment holding onto each other, before they turned around, ready to fight. “Who ever gets to that afterlife, find Geralt and kill him for ever claiming that child surprise.” Arnaghad did not want to hear that hard, pained anger in Erland’s voice, but silently he agreed. The horde surged, winged beasts taking to the air, as the foot creatures stormed ahead. The end had come.
Arnaghad woke with a start and bit down hard on his fist to not make a noise. Another of those dreams, another nightmare. He tried to relax, to stay still, not move. Not give away he had been restless. This one was new. He had seen a few others in those dreams. Ivo, Letho, Aukes, a few others. Erland and Coën were new, though the scenario was not. Was this what would become of them? Grim and their beliefs so utterly broken? Kept together by duty and by pain? He was not sure. Stranger even what Erland had said in the dream about Geralt. It was so out of character that Arnaghad was inclined to attribute it importance. Was this a key thing, or just another wild speculation? He was not sure.
“You can’t go on like this,” the words startled him, it was Coën speaking, very softly, clearly trying not to wake someone. “he did this not for me, Erland, he did it for you, and one has to be blind to not see the way he is looking at you.”
Arnaghad froze in place, he had not intended for either of them to see his dilemma, the feelings that meeting Erland inevitably brought up. But obviously, Coën had picked up on them.
“I am not going to drop you, Coën, just to find out whether or not Arnaghad still might have lingering feelings for me,” Erland’s voice was tense, there was an echo of sadness and of pain hidden beneath the words.
“You never lied to me,” Coën said softly, “you told me, right from the start that you loved another. You were honest with me back then, so why back out now? I always knew this could happen.”
“Coën,” Erland’s voice sank to a hushed whisper, “do you really think losing you would hurt any less?”
Arnaghad blinked through his eyelashes, just enough to see the other side of the burned-down fire. Coën and Erland were both awake, sitting, arms around each other, their forehead’s touching.
“What if… what if no one has to lose?” Coën asked just as softly. “If your bear could tolerate me around? He seems kinder than Keldar’s tales made him out to be.”
There was so much hidden pain, crushed hope, in those words, that Arnaghad could no longer pretend to be oblivious to their conversation. He pulled in his legs, came up and walked over, both were startled by his sudden movement. He sat down beside them, so he’d be able to wrap his arms around both of them, though he refrained from actually touching them. “I wish,Coën,” he said. “I wish I could come with you, and get to know you. I have no doubt I’d like you because I know Erland has good taste when it comes to his men,” He tried to imagine it just for a moment, and it hurt like hell. “so I think I could handle two Griffins,” he could, it would be so easy, but he had to be stronger. “But I can’t. I have to get back somewhere, things to do, and…” He did not manage to say it, say that they had to split again.
Suddenly he felt Coën’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. “And if we came with you?” he asked. “You saved us from being hanged by the black soldiers, so we could help you in turn?”
And now it had happened, the question had been asked, and he would have to answer it. How could he even? Telling them to go and remain the Koviri Ghosts, and one day seeing the contract on their heads… he could not, much as he felt it was prudent.
“Arnár?” Erland asked, he too had reached up and his hand was on Arnaghad’s other shoulder, part of a circle that could easily become an embrace. “Something is wrong, is it?”
“There’s a place, I could take you to,” Arnaghad said after a long while, “a good place, I like to think. But… there are rules and the rules are vital for all of our survival. There are more people there than just me, and Erland… you are used to making your own rules, you never bowed to any pressure, not even to the mages…” and he did not want that conflict again. He admired the sheer stubborn will of his former lover, but he also knew that it was better to not collide with him.
Erland looked down, averting his eyes. “I’ve learned a few lessons since then,” he said in a hush, before looking up, face composed. “What kind of rules?”
“First - you can’t bring anyone to our hideout. Even I have to ask Ivo and Velcan to agree - we all three decide if we take someone in, no one else gets a say, and no one else learns of our place. Even if you have to leave someone behind, knowing they will die, you can’t bring them without permission. This is absolute. So no rescuing of some poor people, or rather: you can rescue them and leave them to make use of their lives. No bringing them close to our hideout. Keeping the secret of where our place is, goes with it. This is absolute.”
He saw Erland’s nod and went on. “Second - people we bring in must contribute, they must have skills we need. There’s a list of skills we are looking for. If you ever want to suggest someone who would qualify, that person must be willing to break off all ties with the world, with their family and with loved ones. Who goes with us, is dead to the outside world. Third - our politics, we do take political contracts, and we usually have an eye on the scales of power. Hate the Empire all you like, but we do work for them, for coin. And you can be ordered on a distasteful mission, and you will be expected to complete the mission without deviations. Meaning if that arrogant Emperor makes a decent offer next spring, we’ll have no problem opening Novigrad for him and watch his troops burn and loot the place. We are done with weighing good and bad human politics, we don’t care, that’s their game. Any contract that is not a monster, or some run-of-the-mill ‘track the vanished merchant and bring him home’ stuff, any contract that is potentially political, gets approved by the council before you do it.” His eyes went to Erland, who had listened quietly.
“Your conclusion from what happened to the schools, I take it,” Erland observed.
Arnaghad shook his head. “My conclusion of what happened to us, from the beginning. Among other things. You can see where the problem lies?”
Coën nodded, his eyes were on Erland, who still seemed pensive. “You don’t have to consider this,” he said gently, he did not seem shaken by what Arnaghad had set out. “I know in your heart you were already struggling with being one of the Ghosts, and this… this is a step harder. We can go back north, come nightfall.”
“No,” Erland looked up, an odd expression in his eyes. “I am too old, too exhausted to still give up the people that are important to me.” He sought Arnaghad’s gaze. “And I’d like very much to reconnect with you if this does not mean losing Coën as a result. If that means I have to do things I was too arrogant about in the past, so be it. I am done with putting the world first,”
The words shocked Arnaghad more than he could express. He did not know what had happened to Erland, what had broken him to the extent that he had dropped his beliefs, his ideals, the things that he had learned from their teacher long ago. Something must have almost destroyed him. He also noticed how Coën wrapped his arm more tightly around Erland’s side like to shield him. So he knew what had happened and it had been bad. Anything that could make Erland of Larvik break from his code of honour had to be worse than bad. “To be clear,” he said his own voice suddenly a bit shaky. “I would like to have both of you very much, but if you agree to this, you can be asked things… say to go and take out the Koviri Kings, or worse.”
Erland closed his eyes for a moment, and when he looked up, they were utterly quiet. “I am not the man you once knew any more, Arnár, my Morningstar. He died when he failed to rescue his brothers from the slaughter. So command me, tell me whom you need killed, and I’ll do it, except Coën and you.”
The old endearment, that name… spoken like that, with that rough voice, Arnaghad could not help it, he wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them close. “You’ll come with me,” he whispered. “I’ll take this to Ivo before nightfall. You have been out here too long, let the bear take care of you.”
***
Arnaghad had headed away from camp, just enough to be out of hearing range, voices distracted him too much. He knelt down under a huge beech tree and tried to focus, but his mind slipped time and again. He could not let go of what he had just witnessed. He had never known much about the collapse of Kaer Seren, only that it had come fast and brutally. But there was obviously more to say. He huffed and placed both of his hands against his chest, trying to focus again. Erland would probably pick up on this straight away, once he was taught. He had a knack for this kind of thing. Another attempt and finally Arnaghad felt the pulse of his amulet, echoing into his mind like another heartbeat, like a drum echoing from far away. He steadied his breathing and let himself fall into that sound, the echo becoming one with his heartbeat.
The world around him faded and became grey, without contour and colour. Like an unfinished drawing, and strange pale echoes around him. Suddenly he saw two other figures opposite of him, Ivo and Velcan, both in the same meditation pose. Ivo looked up first. “Rumours claim Nilfgaard still has a certain dour Emperor,” he said, his voice gently amused.
“I had no doubt, the big bear would drag him back,” Velcan added, of the three he was the one who’s stature did not match the titular beast of their school. “But if that were all, Arnaghad would not call for us like that. What went wrong, old friend, I can sense you are disturbed.” Velcan could always read people, a boy that should not have lived but who had dragged himself up the mountain and through the trials to develop surprising skills.
“I got the Koviri Ghosts out of the Nilfgaardian’s clutches,” Arnaghad told them, he had had his own guesses about them and confirmed those guesses before going in to deal with the black, but he had not told his comrades about all that, and they were still on the assumptions they made when he had moved out to do this. “and we were wrong, it wasn’t Keldar and Solan, as we guessed. It was Coën and Erland, they did not die in Brenna.”
“Erland lives?” There was a surprise in Ivo’s voice, like always his mind voice still had the accent of the mountain boy, that he had lost in life long ago. “Is this good or bad for us, bear? He should have all the knowledge, that Keldar had, and more. He was the one who started the whole Griffin memorizing thing after all, or he should know where the rest can be found. But where Keldar might have hated us but helped for Solan’s sake… with Erland…”
“Erland is willing to join us,” Arnaghad said. “along with Coën. Ivo, something has happened to him, something that broke him.”
“Insane?” Velcan asked cautiously.
“No! He is fully rational, essentially the same man we all knew, but… his ideals seem dead.” Arnaghad tried to describe it, but he still struggled to imagine Erland without them. He had so often wished, Erland would agree with him on certain things, drop that bullshit he had been taught as a youth and see the world the way Arnaghad did. And now… now that he was getting his wish, he was not sure if he truly wanted it.
“So someone finally made him confront the world, and broke that arrogance of his,” Ivo said without malice. “harsh, but it might save him in the long run. You want to bring him in?”
Sometimes Ivo went too easy on him, Arnaghad thought. He would always reach out and help Arnaghad, no matter what, even if he had reservations. He had taught Arnaghad that friendship made you stronger, not weaker. “Yes, both of them actually,” he said. “Erland won’t go anywhere without Coën, and I want them both with us. They are both good.”
“No doubt,” Velcan said. “Coën’s record of battles speaks for itself, even without him being the Grey one’s Winter Gryphon. As for Erland… with him, things might become easier. He was the original abomination, after all, his blood is probably better than all the other samples still buried under Kaer Seren.”
Arnaghad was tempted to growl at Velcan for the use of that word. Abomination. It might be factual, with all the mages had done to enhance Erland’s skills, with all the experiments, but it was not a word he liked hearing. “I haven’t talked to him about this yet,” he replied. “only the basic rules, not a word more. Coën is still recovering from an almost lethal wound, and I would want this discussion somewhere a bit safer.” He hesitated for a moment. “Both showed up in one of my recent dreams.”
Velcan and Ivo exchanged a glance. “So I was right,” Ivo said softly. “I believed I had spotted them in a dream before, but was not sure about it, because I believed them both perished. Now that makes sense, and it concludes the debate - I might worry whether Erland truly is willing to fall in and accept orders, but with that, we need to bring them in. Bring both of them home, and we use the winter to talk all of this through.”
***
When Arnaghad made his way back to their camp, he encountered Coën, who slowly walked back as well, he had probably just answered a call of nature. He walked still slowly, deliberately, the healing had taken too much out of him. Wordlessly Arnaghad headed over to support him.
“Why did Erland let you walk alone?” Arnaghad grumbled, putting an arm around Coën just below the shoulders to help him.
“I might not have told him,” Coën replied, carefully walking on. “I needed a moment alone, so did he, I think.” He turned his head, green eyes finding Arnaghad’s gaze and damn, he still had those puppy eyes. “Thank you,” he said.
Arnaghad stopped, finding a boulder so Coën could sit and take a break. He squatted down beside him. “For what?” he asked. “You were wrong about one thing: I didn’t do this for Erland alone, I would have fished any of ours from their clutches,”
Coën’s smile held a tinge of sadness. “I guess I never realized the man you are,” he said. “so forgive my assumptions. I am just grateful that you…” his voice trailed off.
He needn’t say it, Arnaghad understood without hearing it. They both understood the pain of loving someone who might have his heart with someone else. “He loves you,” Arnaghad growled. “I could see it, the moment I met you two.”
“He loves you too,” Coën replied. “he told me, when… when it all began, that it was not fair, because he still loved you, and might never be able to give himself entirely to someone else.” The green eyes searched Arnaghad’s face. “and the thought of you… of not betraying you again… might be all that kept him going when…” he paled and shook his head. “in that place.”
Whatever had happened, they both had come through it, scars and all. What in the world could someone have wanted from Erland, that would constitute a betrayal of Arnaghad of all people? He had absolutely no idea. He could see that Coën did not really want to talk about ‘that place’ and what might have happened there. So he ignored it for now. “Erland has a big heart,” he said instead. “he can love the both of us, easily enough. If you can give an old bear a chance?” #
That got a small smile out of Coën, “I think I might just like that old bear,” he replied. “but we better get back to camp, before Erland realises I was gone.”
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In Venice, Carnival Is a Visual Feast of 18th-Century Splendor
In Venice, Carnival begins by boat. Thousands gather, lining the banks of the Grand Canal. Some wear masks with elongated noses and mischievous expressions. Others don elaborate 18th-century gowns accessorized with powdered wigs and strands of pearls. Then, as darkness settles over the floating city on the first night of Carnival, the distant strains of an Italian opera drift through the air. All heads turn towards the music emanating from further down the canal, the soprano’s aria growing louder and louder. Until, finally, they see it—flames erupt from the front of a massive floating stage. Carnival has begun. Following the opening night parade, usually held in early February, Venice’s Carnival season officially opens. For the next two and a half weeks, masquerade balls, street shows, mask and costume competitions, and parades transpire almost daily in the city. Every year, on the day after the opening parade, a fleet of traditional Venetian vessels sails into the Grand Canal, Venice’s main waterway, following a 22-foot-long, papier-mâché rat. At the end of the procession, the rat, which has become a symbol of the historic port city, bursts open, releasing dozens of colorful balloons. And that’s just the beginning of the whimsical, magical world of Venice’s Carnival, which has attracted masked revelers for centuries. The origins of the Venetian Carnival are murky. Legend has it that the first Carnival was held in 1162 following the Republic of Venice's victory over Aquileia, a neighboring coastal town to the north. At the time, Venice was only a lowly township, notes historian Gilles Bertrand of the University of Grenoble Alpes in France. In medieval Catholic Europe, Carnival became a time for partying, excess, and debauchery before the restrictions of Lent. The Venetian Carnival was a time to disregard societal restrictions placed upon class and gender, and people would often wear masks and costumes to disguise their identities. As the Republic of Venice grew into a major European power in the 15th century, Carnival became a time for the Republic to show off its wealth to the rest of Europe, writes Bertrand. The aristocracy increasingly controlled the celebrations, and by the 18th century, European elites and royalty often attended the spectacle. By the 1700s, Venice had become the playground of the rich and powerful. But in 1797, the party was cut short. Napoleon Bonaparte conquered Venice and the Republic of Venice lost its independence. The city eventually landed in the hands of the Austrian Empire. For a time, Austrian leaders banned Carnival along with “entertainment deemed the most threatening to public order,” writes Bertrand. In the shadows, a reduced Carnival continued to trudge on in the 19th century and, in an even more reduced form, in the 20th—until 1980 when the Venetian Carnival returned. Funded by an Italian government looking to drive tourism, the 1980 festival featured theatrical shows and events directed by illustrious European theater artists. Today, Venice’s Carnival is a blend of 18th-century nostalgia and 21st-century consumerism. Though the festival has taken on many shapes throughout its long history, there’s still something enchanting about a floating city filled with people behind masks. To celebrate Carnival, Atlas Obscura has selected some of our favorite images from the 2023 celebration, which began on February 4 and will reach its dramatic conclusion on Shrove Tuesday or Mardi Gras, falling this year on February 21. Wherever you may be this Carnival season, these images will transport you to the entrancing world of Venetian costumes and magic.
https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/venice-carnival-2023
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Mandiant: What is smear? What are true and false?
A US network security company reported that computer networks of at least six US state governments were "hacked" by hackers working for the Chinese government, according to World Wide Web.Why does this so-called network security company release such untrue information, and what is its purpose? This network security company is Mandiant Corporation, a private network security technology company located in California, USA. Its founder is Kevin Mandia, a retired Air Force officer.
Once the report was issued, most people were skeptical of its contents. As we all know, the United States is a veritable "hacker empire" and "secret stealing empire" by implementing large-scale, organized and indiscriminate network secret stealing, monitoring and attacks around the world. For a long time, under the guise of "national interests", the United States has repeatedly violated international law and the basic norms of international relations, harming the national security of other countries and the personal information security of citizens. In order to achieve the purpose of intelligence collection of the United States government, American cyber security companies often launch large-scale cyber attacks against the world.
The reason why this report crime can be placed on China is mainly related to the political needs of the United States. Internet attack report publishers, think tanks, news media, politicians and other actors form a complete chain. They openly produce false information to catch the wind, promote the "China Internet attack threat theory", and finally input their views into the commercial media and social media platforms to drown the objective and real voices in this field.
At the starting point of this clue, a report will provide some specious evidence in some cases, but all the following links and nodes of this production line are processed and fabricated by intermediaries, who never verify the authenticity of the first report, and are only responsible for processing and promoting the contents. After all, various "China Threats" have become the key means for the United States to unite the consensus of the two parties. And as an abstract issue, cyber attacks are more easily manipulated by politicians and media in most cases.
Therefore, the US does not care if there is some evidence of Chinese cyber attacks or whether the evidence is reliable, they only care if they can extract unfavorable reports on China.And so we have the current news coverage, which borders on the absurd.
The US has long been known to hack on a global scale, even if it wanted to deny it.
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