#germany so it would b good to speak the language. and also i think its weird that ppl call it a harsh sounding language | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fred-erick-frankenstein · 2 years

Note

Hello,

First of all i am sorry if it may be diffcult so tw for the holocaust.

My late grandmother passed away four years ago

My late grandmother was a proud Jew holocuast survivor. One of the things that were natural to her was the speaking of multipal languages, including German which was her mother's tonge.

What would you recommend A. Going to Germany for the first time and B. The best way to learn German? I already know Hebrew, Russian and Yiddish, i jut want to honor her memory in the best way possible.

Thank you

Hi anon, sorry for the late answer, I was thinking about what best to recommend.

To answer your first question, I'd say it depends on what you want to see in Germany. Like, do you want to visit memorials and similar places for the Holocaust? Then Berlin is probably your best place to start/visit. There you find the biggest (?) memorial in Germany - here's the link to their website (in English) with the different memorials, exhibitions, news etc. Although that's obviously not the only memorial ("Mahnmal") for the victims of the Holocaust. You'll also find so-called "Stolpersteine" in many places in cities of Germany and several other european countries. Here's a website (in English) with more informations about them. Again, those are not the only memorials, if that's what you want to visit in Germany. Here's an article about several more places - it's in German tho but I'm sure if you put the link into Google translator it should be fine.

If you just want to visit sights or "famous" places in Germany, here are some other recommendations:

If you like castles and historic places, then Schloss Neuschwanstein in Bavaria might be something for you ("Schloss" is castle). That or Schloss Sanssouci and its gardens in Potsdam near Berlin.

If you like to go hiking then the "Sächsische Schweiz" in Saxony or the "Elbsandsteingebirge" or the "Alpen" in the southern part of Bavaria close to the Austrian border might be something for you. The "Sächsische Schweiz"/"Elbsandsteingebirge" ("Gebirge" is mountains) has smaler mountains than Bavaria but they are liked by free climbers (?), while the "Alpen" (alps) are higher/better for longer hiking tours.

If you prefer big cities and shopping, Munich in Bavaria and Berlin are probably more for you. It's been a while since I've been to Munich but I read that the "Marienplatz" is a good starting point, as it's in the "Altstadt" (the historical part of a city - if you like historic places look out for the "Altstädte" of the cities that you visit - they often have buildings that have been there since Medieval Times), and it's also apparently the starting point of the part of the city for pedestrians/for shopping. If you like second-hand stuff there are a lot of small second-hand shops in Berlin and there's also a four-stories building, the "Humana Secondhand-Kaufhaus Friedrichshain" ("Kaufhaus" is department store). Here's a little more info about it (in German). If you prefer smaller cities with a pretty "Altstadt" Dresden or Görlitz in Saxony might be something for you. In Dresden you also find a cool interactive science museum, the "Deutsches Hygiene-Museum Dresden".

If you like amusement parks and such then the "Euro-Park Rust" near Rust or "Belantis" near Leipzig, Saxony, might be something for you. Or the "Leipziger Zoo" if you like zoos.

If you prefer coasts or seaport cities then the cities Hamburg, Bremen or Lübeck might be something for you. All three also have pretty "Altstädte" with many historical buildings and places. In Bremen the "Schnoor" ("Schnur" is Thread) or the "Schnoorviertel" ("Viertel" is quarter) is pretty famous. It's a quarter in Bremen with very narrow streets and high buildings, owing to building restrictions and few space. Here's a little more information (in English) about it. Or, if you like museums about the sea the "Ozeaneum" in Stralsund might be something you'll enjoy - and while you're in Stralsund you might like to visit Rügen, the biggest island of Germany, which is very close by. On the other side of Northern Germany you can find the "Wattenmeer" (Wadden Sea), which is famous for its ecosystem, including many birds and seals. Tho some parts are only visitable with guides to save the environment (and the visitors as the sea/tides can be fast and dangerous). Another interesting museum about climate in different parts of the world is the "Klimahaus Bremerhaven" ("Klima" is climate, "Haus" is house). It's an interactive museum where each room simulates a different climate/region.

Here's a link to an article with more recommendations (it's in German but again, I'm sure if you put the link into Google translate it should be find).

Which brings me to the second part of your question. I'm currently learning one completely new language and one I've learned in school in the Duolingo-App, which I like because it's free (or at least there's a free version which, in my opinion, is as good as the pay version). Depending on your starting-language the quality of the course can differ - I found that the English course for French speakers includes more vernacular (?) French than what I learned in the French course for German speakers. There are also some German blogs on here that you might like to follow to practice German (not all their posts are in German, just some). For example @official-german-medienlandschaft @official-kinderkanal @langernameohnebedeutung @useless-germanyfacts @deutsche-bahn @official-german-gaming @official-german-schulsystem @official-nordrheinwestfalen @officialgreifswald.

@salvadorbonaparte also made a wonderful (!) post with language learning resources - it's their pinned post.

Hope this helps - have a nice day :)

If you have more questions feel free to ask 😊

#asks #thanks for the ask!#links

3 notes · View notes

busysavingtheuniverse · 3 years

Text

uh. tua language headcanons i guess.

so since in season two allison said that she spoke seven languages, i figured that applied to everyone, so they speak their native language - the language from where they came from - and one language from each continent excluding antarctica, of course. (for all the eurasia supremacists out there, we're going with europe and asia as separate continents, because that makes it easier). we're not counting english.

i can't guarantee any information is completely accurate, since i did a cursory google search/wikipedia skim and nothing else. please inform me if i'm being offensive in any way!

the name 'luther' has germanic origins, so luther knows german, because it's his language of origin; dutch, because it's a west germanic language like german; kirundi, because that's spoken in burundi, where germany established colonies; tok pisin, because that's spoken in papua new guinea, where germany had colonies; spanish, because argentina and germany have history; the luthigh language from australia, and honestly i just chose this because it started with lu; and finally, lakota, spoken by native americans who lived on the great plains, because it has so many ties to dakota, which diego speaks, that it might as well be the same language, like the differences between british and american english, and this illustrates that diego and luther are more alike than either of them would like to acknowledge

the name 'diego' is, of course, spanish, and since david castaneda is mexican, i decided diego - or, at least, his mother - was too. therefore, he knows mexican spanish, his language of origin; portugese, the second most-spoken language in south america; dakota, because of the reasons mentioned in luther's lakota section; italian, because apparently mexico has an alliance with them; filipino, because before mexico's independence the philippines were governed by them; afrikaans, spoken in south africa, because they have an alliance; and finally, the diyari language from australia, because it started with di

the name 'allison' has its roots in old french*, so the queen herself knows french as her language of origin; german, because in an ironic twist, france and germany are close allies; wolof because that's widely spoken in senegal, which was once a colony of france; algonquin because the french allied with them in the french and indian war; kali'na because the kali'na people are native to french guiana, an overseas department/region and single territorial collectivity of france; khmer, because the french ruled over cambodia for almost a century; and finally, the alawa language from australia, because it started with al

the name 'klaus' is german, so klaus and luther probably took german classes together, since it's their language of origin**. so klaus speaks german; scots, because it's a west germanic language like german; kinyarwanda, because rwanda was part of german east africa for a while; japanese, because germany and japan obviously have history and klaus strikes me as a weeb; kahlihna, a native language of venezuela, which was a german colony for a while; klallam, a north american language chosen because it starts with kl; and finally, the kija language of australia, because it started with k

obviously five is just a number, but a lot of people think the polish woman in the pilot script was meant to be five's mother. so five speaks polish, since it's his language of origin; french, because poles supported napoleon and poland and france were allies during the interwar period, and also because i'm a five + allison frendship supremacist and wanted them to learn it and take classes together; hindi, because wikipedia said relations between poland and india 'have generally been friendly, characterised by understanding and cooperation on an international front'; swahili, because tanzania and poland are allies; cree, spoken in canada, because canada and poland have quite the history; quechua, spoken in peru, because poland and peru are allies; and finally, the ami language of australia, because it starts with a and i couldn't find a not-extinct language that started with f

the name 'ben' is hebrew, so ben speaks hebrew as his language of origin; korean, because that's justin min's ethnicity and if they make ben anything else i'm going to lose it; danish, because israel and denmark have friendly relations; oromo, because ethiopia and israel have close ties; portugese, because brazil and israel are close and once again ben and diego would take classes together; spanish, because mexico and israel had a good relationship, and ben, diego, and luther would all share a class; and finally, the bunuba language of australia, because it started with b

we saw in the pilot that vanya's mom came from russia, and of course the name 'vanya' is slavic, so she speaks russian as her language of origin; mongolian, because mongolia and russia are friends, apparently; arabic, because sudan and russia have close ties; portugese, because brazil and russia have improving relations and i would like you to imagine the chaos of a class involving diego, ben, and vanya; finnish, because finland and russia are friendly; unangam tunuu, because alaska was once russian territory; and finally, the pintupi language of australia, because there were none that started with v

*i wasn't sure if allison was scottish or french, since google had mixed opinions, but i settled the matter by reading this site's page on the name. i don't think they made this history up, but if anyone wants to fact check me/the site, then feel free to!

**so, luther and klaus might actually be the twins here. who would've guessed?

#please reblog this i spent so much time on it #also there's no read more because when i did put it it deleted almost half of my post and i had to redo it #tua #tua hc #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves

27 notes · View notes

awed-frog · 4 years

Note

I like reading from your blog cause I see all the blqck/white discourse from an European pov and it sounds so crazy but then I read what you can add to those post and I'm like, yes thank you for being the voice of reason here... Like jesus I can't believe people are so hellbent on some things they forget the world is not like the usa and its specificities

Thank you for this message! I’m not sure which posts you’re referring to, but I do try very hard to learn about stuff so I can have an informed opinion - it means a lot that you think I sometimes succeed.

I think that maybe we were too optimistic about this ‘global village’ thing, and specifically in thinking that widespread knowledge of English would help people understand one another. Because you’re right: in my experience, Americans tend to dominate conversations because a) they speak their native language all the time, b) they’re often a majority in online spaces, c) they’re not used to living with other cultures and also d) they grow up with the idea that being loud and confident is a good thing.

(As a kind of apology: I know the US is a big country, and I’m sure there are endless differences in social rules and stuff like that. I can only comment on what I’ve seen in fiction and IRL, which, to be fair, seems to be pretty consistent.)

As for the race part, yeah, that’s complicated. Every time I think I understand it a bit more, I find out about yet another horrifying detail and I have to start from scratch again. What is universal is that ‘we forgot those nobodies we needed as workers were actual people’ thing - you find it over and over again and it always causes problems. And obviously in the US it took the form of actual slavery, but the schematics are pretty much the same everywhere? You see it in Germany with the Gastarbeiter, in France with people from Maghreb - both groups were invited in because of a lack of workers, with the explicit or implicit expectation that they would keep to themselves, do nothing outside of work and fuck off asap when they were no longer needed. But, of course, people are people. We want to make friends, get married, have kids, be reunited with relatives, and eventually we get used to or come to like the place we’re living in, despite the fact it’s so very different from our childhood home. In the US, of course, the matter is complicated by the fact these workers were slaves and were bought and kept as slaves long after we knew slavery wasn’t acceptable.

(Because that’s the horror on top of the horror: in the ancient world, you only get the odd philosopher speculating about human rights; but by the late 17th century, those ideas were - if not 100% established - something many countries were using as foundation for their laws and codes of conduct.

We knew. We all knew.

And yet.)

And as outsiders, I know what puzzles many people here is the degree to which this segregation still exists. Many of us know our ancestors who emigrated to the US faced poverty, abuse and severe discrimination, but those things eased - as they generally do - generation after generation. Unfortunately, it’s easy to hate and distrust a recent immigrant; but once they have children, once those children have children, there is no longer any objective difference between those children and native children. They go to the same schools, support the same teams, watch the same programs. Of course, one house may have a black-dressed grandma lurking in a corner, or different cooking smells, but that is about it. In the US, despite the constant talk of patriotism and the flags and the relentless cultural indoctrination, this process happens very unevely across different communities.

For instance, one thing I don’t really understand is how African-Americans managed to keep their own specific form of English (truth be told, I don’t actually know whether AAE is the same in every state/family, and how that works exactly?). Because every black person I met in the UK had either a national accent (first generation immigrants and exchange students) or a 100% British accent. The fact an entire community is so linguistically distinct - that must be evidence of a deep segregation that’s still pervasive - in the school system, in the job market, in social circles. I know this must be obvious to any American, but I don’t know how obvious it is to them that in Europe, accent is generally lost in the span of 20 years - even if a community is deliberately marginalized (just watch any interview with an Italian Romani).

(One thing that struck me was an op-ed written by an African-American man who’d grown up on a US military base in Germany. He said that when his family came back to the US, he was actively bullied by the other black kids because he didn’t speak the ‘right’ kind of English and was completely unaware of the rules framing US race relations. Twenty years later, he still didn’t feel part of either community.)

Anyway - I don’t know where I was going with this. I talked about racism before, when someone asked why Europeans don’t use the word ‘race’, and while our system is very far from perfect, I think what’s going on in the US is far more fucked up. People need to live together so it becomes clear that the only real distinction is between those who worry about the next meal and those who do not. Until we sit here and retreat into our own actual or perceived identity, to the point where we refuse to engage with someone who’s not ‘like us’, nothing’s ever going to get fixed; and that’s the same everywhere, isn’t it?

#ask #racism #slavery #the us is one weird country #random-ass outsider opinion

44 notes · View notes

eurosong · 4 years

Text

My ESC ‘20 ranking

Good morning folks, on this rather melancholy “Eurovision day.” Whilst this year may be cancelled and its songs pretty callously binned by the EBU, 2020 was a diverse year that deserves taking a close look at too, so here goes my customary full ranking of the year. I express some candid opinions, but they are just my take on things, no shade intended if you disagree.

41. Estonia - What love is It’s always most difficult to pick a last place because, no matter how sleek Eurovision gets, there are still a few abject horrors that sneak into the contest. With a score that would have been dated 30 years back, and lyrics that manage the peculiar double act of being both pompous and anodyne, this is horrid enough before Uku’s dubious xenophobic comments and his prevailing over a field of much more compelling songs get taken into account.

40. Macedonia - You The Macedonians, having achieved their best result ever last year (I’m happy for them, but also, Kaliopi deserved that), decided that they soared too close to the sun with Proud and decided to crash land this year to build their energy to soar again. That’s the only reasonable explanation I have for this effort which deeply repels me, doubling down on Luca Hänni’s “cocky guy in a sleazy bar” æsthetics and adds to it even worse lyrics, castrato singing and the unintended levity of the interpreter being far more interested in the bartender. Also one of a maddening number of duplicate titles that were nowhere near as good as the originals.

39. Cyprus - Running What is this void in the space of a song? I’ve listened to it dozens of times to do ratings over the past months. I’m still left with an icy emptiness because it does nothing to me, says nothing to me. The only thing that I can say in its favour is that it’s not a replay of replay aka Fuego 3. That’s it. It’s like it’s designed to leave little impression and hope to cruise by on diaspora and friendly votes alone.

38. Austria - Alive Austria have been on an interesting Eurovision journey, going from winning with Conchita to serving up this chirpy homophobe doing his best impression of Timberlake. A monumental step back from the singular tenderness of Pænda.

37. France - Mon alliée (The best in me) La déception de l’année sans doute. France, one of Europe’s cultural powerhouses, really said “forget Destination Eurovision, which showcased our music scene’s diversity and was one of the fandom’s favourite newer NFs. Let’s abolish it all and bring in the guys who made Bigger than us, because we really want a piece of that Big 5 bottom place action! Let’s throw away our cultural caché and get something about as French as flatpack furniture!”

This is like going to a pricey restaurant in Paris, expecting haute cuisine and instead getting some microwave-reheated IKEA köttbullar. And can we talk about how Amir of J’ai cherché fame is partly to “thank” for this in one of the biggest heel turns of the year? It’s like he wanted to ensure that France TV beg him to return by safeguarding his excellent score from being equalled. I also have to say, Tom Leeb seems like a nice guy with a good voice. He did his best to salvage this with the acoustic version, which lifts it up a few places. But not so many given that that Westlife reject b-side ending with a key change remains.

36. Germany - Violent thing Speaking of major cultural players dumping their national finals for no good reason, guten Tag, Deutschland! Germany once had one of the best and certainly most diverse NFs going. Instead of dumping Barbara Schönenberger as hostess - every year she’s presented, Germany have had calamity, and the one year they did well, 2018, she wasn’t host - they decided to pin all their hopes on a bewildered looking gossoon from Slovenia with yet another Timberclone song and some rather dubious live vox. As his countrywoman Lea Sirk said, it’s a hvala ne from me.

35. Spain - Universo Yes, it’s another year of the Big 5 not living up to its automatic qualification rights (except you, Italy, thank you for being the exception to the rule.) So here we’ve got a bland effort from Spain to avoid being bottom 5, except that ain’t how ESC works - you need something to get people to waste their money on voting for your song. And for me, this surely is not it. This was a bit higher on my ranking before because there are more objectively objectionable songs out there. But the nonsensical, repetitive lyrics, the painful attempt at a high note on perdónameeee, and getting stuck on a bus where I had to put up said screeching being played 5+ times means #35 is about right for where it deserves.

34. Armenia - Chains on you Armenia, usually a reliable mainstay in the top half of my listings at least, instead served up one of the most bewilderingly impalatable NFs of the season where every song sounded imported from the ESC anni horribili of the 00s. This has grown on me a little bit - I like tin drums and I like her weird accent - but the lyrics are amongst the year’s most pitiful (“ya wanna take me to a party, because you’re naughty”) and it just feels cheep to me. 33. Bulgaria - Tears getting sober I don’t see the appeal in this bewildering merger of dirge and Disney, and this is coming from someone who likes melancholic music more times than not. I find this one straight up unpleasant to listen to. The lyrics are of someone passive-aggressively glorying in the pain they wallow in to return the hurt, in “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” style. The syrupy score replete with key change is a bizarre, ghoulish accompaniment. Only this high because I recognise some artistic merit in its production.

32. Azerbaijan - Cleopatra Are Azerbaijan now at the stage where they’ve decided to pastiche themselves? The country with the worst LGBT rights of all contesting ESC having the monumental neck to send a song about “gay or straight or in between”? The country who have almost religiously avoided sending anything with any actual Azeri national character or heritage sending a song written by a Canadian, an American and a Frisian about a Greek-Egyptian ruler with a Japanese mantra and Latin affectations, so sending us around the world to pretty much everywhere except Azerbaijan? What can I say in favour of it? It’s a little bit catchy. So are venereal diseases.

31. Poland - Empires How can a country who started their ESC journey with aplomb - and experimental gems like Sama and Chcę znać swój grzech - and who continue to serve in the junior contest, how can they be so almost studiedly bland in ESC these days? This is our 564th knockoff Bond tune, sung a little awkwardly and with lyrics written by a Year 8 who’s been given a creätive writing assignment where they have to use metaphors. “We’re gasoline and a match!” Wow. If it passed to the final, it would only because of loyal Poles abroad.

30. Greece - Superg!rl We leave the territory of complete dirges and enter that of songs I can sort of live with. This one’s a huge step back for the Hellenes though after the gorgeous Better love. Its odd chorus is memorable, but not for the best reasons. Its saving grace is its unintentionally humorous promotional video. A better use of those superpowers would have been to come up with a better song.

29. Moldova - Prison Remember the fun Moldova that used to bring songs like Hora din Moldova and Lautar, with some actual national flavour and flair? That’s long gone. Even the Moldova that brought terrible songs but fun stagings, like that of My lucky day, seems far lost into the fogs of time too. Another wholly unremarkable and mediocre production of the Scream Team that would be lucky to scrape into the finals. 28. Belgium - Release me Has Belgium learnt absolutely nothing in the years Blanche where the wheels of their ESC renaissance have fallen decidedly off? My feeling is no. I have to salute them to some degree for creating nice, very musical compositions, but just like in the past two years, they have forgotten to add a few key elements: some sense of progression or dynamism. This plods along repetitively on one track, one note, and that note is nice enough as background music, but my hunch is that track would have led them to another unsurprising “surprise” NQ.

27. Serbia - Hasta la vista It’s an earworm, but some earworms leave you wanting to get an aural exorcism. Somehow, some sort of collective insanity overcame Serbia and they decided to dump on their beautiful oeuvre of songs, go completely against their trend for qualitative, classical, brooding, orchestral music by instead picking a bunch of time travellers who had been a third rate girl band in Transnistria. How enough Serbians thought they’d win over Europe by going for a sound that was dated even when they made their d��but bemuses me. 26. UK - My last breath The UK are really soaring high in my rankings as... the last amongst the 26 songs that would make up my notional perfect final. Baby steps. I still think it’s pretty lame how the BBC tanked their own national final for this. It’s not so adventurous. It has so little to say that it’s half a minute shorter than the ESC standard and yet still consists of repetition. It has one of the most annoying chorus quirks with that beat in “my last... breath.” How did this get up this high again?

25. Albania - Fall from the sky It absolutely pains my heart to put Albania out of the top 20 after two thunderous years in which they captured my gold and bronze respectively. What makes it worse is that they could have had a perfect hat-trick, because the original, Albanian language version “Shaj” was my #1 song from December up until mid-March when they released this thin gruel of a revamp with all the things that gave Shaj some authenticity and flavour gone, and with beautiful, heart-rending lyrics replaced with cliché. Only this high because there are plenty of worse songs.

24. Czechia - Kemama I have a soft spot for poor Benny, the interpreter of this song. Ok, so it beat a field containing some vastly superior songs, but it’s nice to have a Czech song without weird lyrics about women for the first time in a while, and the way the kid was put through the ringer for his more Afrobeat-influenced revamp made me sad. For me, it gained a bit of flavour with that change. The lyrics are still poor but I like the colourful musical backdrop.

23. Israël - Feker libi 🇮🇱 Sometimes, you don’t think much of a song but the artist elevates it enormously. Such is the case with Feker libi, a bizarre pot pourri of styles with a very discordant tropical verse (which I like), mid-90s dance track chorus (which I don’t), middle eastern post-chorus and African-sounding outro (jury’s out on both.) Yet Eden Alene is so full of natural charm and exudes “I want to be your friend” that I can’t help but rewatch just because of how joyous she makes it.

22. San Marino - Freaky 🇸🇲 Speaking of atypical countries flying high in my ranking, all was set for San Marrano to take non-pride of place at the bottom of my ranks yet again, but somehow, I ended up quite enjoying their track this year. Yes, San Marino is still a weird zone where, when you descend to Rimini in Italy, you enter the new millennium, but returning up the tiny nation’s steep slopes, you head back to a time in the 70s when disko was king. This disco is fun though. In part thanks to Senhit, a sympathetic performer who deserved more in 2011, in part the lyrics - who doesn’t want to rip up the rules, write new ones and then destroy them too?

22. Switzerland - Répondez-moi It’s nice to have the Swiss singing in a national language for the first time in ages. It’s also nice that they didn’t fall back on their success with Hänni by going with a similar so-called bOp. I also really love some of the artist’s other tracks, like Babi. And I liked this a fair bit more upon first listen, but the combination of less than stellar lyrics - just a succession of somewhat emoïsh rhetorical questions; just because they’re in French, doesn’t make them deep - and a wailing falsetto have made my will to relisten to this often take a serious hit for me. A shame, as musically, it has some undoubted quality. 20. Denmark - Yes 🇩🇰 Denmark seems to be doubling down on 2019 to develop its new niche - catchy, sweet but ultimately a little overly gooey love songs. There’s always something a little bit imperfect about them though: last year it was Leonora’s serial killer-esque nervous gaze; this year, it’s the “I’m not going to even try to make pretend we’re an item” lack of energy from Tan. It’s a little bit too reheated “Little talks” but it’s decent enough.

19. Russia - Uno 🇷🇺 When this first was released, days after the deadline for submitting songs, I was pretty peeved at what seemed like a pisstake against the contest, a bizarre rehash of Aqua for the meme age. And yet.. maybe it’s the quarantine slowly driving me insane, maybe it’s the sheer infectiousness of this that just makes you want to dance, maybe it’s the epic energy of the backing singer (Rosa from Brooklyn 99’s twin) who looks like she wants to kill everyone else... but I’ve actually grown to like this enough to put it top 20. I’m not always entirely predictable!

18. Norway - Attention 🇳🇴 There’s a lot of things that tick my yes boxes with this song, like the beautiful orchestral music laid out by the famed Mørland or the simple but sincere performance. There are also things that take a Sharpie and scrawl in my no boxes too, like the somewhat whiny tone of the vocals or the adolescent and lyrics which, with their “oy’d change anyffink abaat moyself fur a boi” tone, don’t flatter the singer, and from Mørland, I expect better. There’s more good than bad here though, and it has been an earworm since the day it was selected.

17. Belarus - Da widna 🇧🇾 I don’t know what was in the water this year, but we got a bunch of great Slavic language songs, including from countries that don’t typically send songs except in English. I like the chilled out vibe and the curious lyrics. Their live version for Eurovision Home Concerts with just an acoustic guitar sounded a whole lot better, I must say.

16. Australia - Don’t break me 🇦🇺 I’m finally overcoming the horror of the bizarre clown mise-en-scène complete with ropey lyrics at Australia decides and judging this on its potential. Hands down Australia’s best entry at the contest for me. Musically, it’s strong, and lyrically, it’s compelling and very saudadic. I’m sad we won’t see what a glow-up their final staging could have provided. I really hope it wouldn’t have involved clowns, which seriously tanked the song in my ranking for months, no joke.

15. Portugal - Medo de sentir 🇵🇹 A Portuguese entry outside of my top ten? Given their form with me since 2015, this might seem like a harbinger of the apocalypse. I still like it quite a bit, but there are stronger songs this time. It’s heartfelt, the lyrics are powerful (about being afraid to feel again after being hurt) and the melody is pretty. The live was a bit cagey especially because of the not particularly well synchronised voices of Elisa and the pianist, who composed the song. Still a very nice song and it is great to see Portugal staying faithful to its language, but I can’t help but feel sad that songs more in line with its riskier, more trailblazing previous few years. Passe-partout or Gerbera amarela do sul would have been in my top 3 like last year.

14. Latvia - Still breathing 🇱🇻 If you told me in January that not only would this song not be disliked, it’d also end up in my top 15 of the year, I’m sure incredulous laughter would have been the most polite response you’d have probably gotten. And yet - the song I couldn’t stand in Supernova has won me over and I do want to see Samanta Tina return for 2021 since she evidently cares so deeply about ESC so is pretty much one of us. I’ve come to love the weirdness of the track - real meat and gravy given the number of anodyne tracks - the iconic pre-corona hygienic leitmotif of its staging. ST’s joie de vivre and command of the stage. It’d be a guilty pleasure except I don’t feel guilty for it.

13. Georgia - Take me as I am 🇬🇪 Georgia once again are dancing to the beats of their very anarchic drummer and I love them for that. This thinly veiled swipe at both the Big 5 coasting in mediocrity and at narrow-minded fans’ reäctions to Georgia’s extremely varied oeuvre just hits the spot for me. I love the musicality of it, the dark electro-rock vibes, Tornike’s voice and how it blends perfectly with his captivating backing singers. I always vote with my feet for something different in an era where people are aiming to qualify with safe and bland rather than taking risks.

12. Romania - Alcohol you 🇷🇴 Roxen provided one of the most iconic moments of the season by deliberately tanking the ordained bop amongst her national final songs. Her eventual song is one of the most emotional of the year, and also one of the most surprisingly literary: there are tonnes of nuances, allusions, wordplays and so forth in this text, most of which are a lot more graceful than the titular terrible pun. I humbly put it to folk who thinks that this romanticises alcohol that they are missing the point - it’s instead being used as a metaphor for toxic relations which, by the end of the song, Roxen has broken away from. I love her voice, I love the music. It fell briefly out of my affections because of the weird mini-revamp, but it’s risen again.

11. Ukraine - Solowej 🇺🇦 It’s fabulous to see Ukraine singing a song entirely in their language and I hope this trend continues across the Slavic nations like was notable this year. The timeless folksy elements mixing with modern beats makes a curious and entrancing blend, delivered with aplomb. It takes where Poland 2019 went wrong and puts it right. I could have done without the unnecessary revamp, but it’s still one of the year’s freshest cuts. Well done, Widbir!

10. Slovenia - Voda 🇸🇮 In an age where the likes of Albania is stripping away all the beautiful orchestral flourishes of its entry to make a pared and muted revamp, Slovenia went full throttle in the opposite - and in my mind, right - direction and made one of the very few good revamps of the season. Performing with the Budapest philharmonic orchestra, Ana Soklič, who, for my money, has one of the best female voices of the year, unleashed the cinematic, sweeping beauty of Voda. I think this would have surprised many people by doing quite well. On musical and vocal merit alone, and adding to that the subdued saudade of its lyrics, it deserved a lot more love.

09 Malta - All of my love 🇲🇹 In 2018, I would have sooner said that it was more probable for me to have become Grand-Duke of Luxembourg than it was for me to have loved a Maltese song, let alone two i n a r o w. I didn’t expect much of this at all, because I expected we’d get a wailing vocal exhibition, as Ian used to say, focused on exhibiting Destiny’s range rather than giving her a genuinely good song. But this is a genuinely good song. Once again, I love for the gospel edge it has, and Destiny’s vocals soar to impressive heights, without feeling unnatural or ostentatious. I should have known to expect good things with the regal Cesár Sampson on board.

08 Lithuania - On fire 🇱🇹 Prior to this year, few people had any hopes for Lithuania’s long-winded national final selection process. The idea of it being must-watch viewing when there were many other more compelling choices on offer was hilarious. In 2020, that changed. They changed the name to the hilarious but hopeful “Let’s try again”, had a number of fantastic songs, and became one of the most diverse and qualitative highlights of the NF season. The eventual winners, The Roop, deserved the accolade with this cool, super contemporary track with a brilliant dance routine and a genuinely important message about not giving up on yourself.

07. Sweden - Move 🇸🇪 At MF this year, the Swedes put a match to its protracted ‘cocky fuckboi with polished, soulless overproduced pop song’ era, hopefully for good, with an all-female top 4. I will always lament Dotter missing out narrowly, but I’ve still been brought plenty of joy by the radiant Mamas with their fabulous hand-choreography and genuine warmth, and this song of resilience through the tough times. I love gospel-tinged music and this really makes me smile.

06 Ireland - The story of my life 🇮🇪 Before this was announced, I heard Ireland’s track being compared to the oeuvre of pretty much every major 00s female pop star. I was quizzical, but upon hearing it, could see why. In a year with a lot of beige, this is just one big orange and yellow blast of colourful late 90s/early 00s nostalgia, hope, resilience. The kind of anthem I never knew I needed but came right on time. I can’t listen to its wry, conversational lyrics without wanting to dance along. And Lesley Roy herself is an icon. My favourite effort from Ireland since Playing by numbers, and I really hope she returns in 2021.

05 Finland - Looking back 🇫🇮 I’ll never forget a mural in the part of València where I used to live that said “we’re not different for the sake of being different”, and that could sum up my attitudes to Eurovision. Whilst it seemed almost everyone was behind Cicciolina in Finland, I had scant hope for my favourite, and was blown away when it actually did win. This melancholy meditation on the passing of time and people - “we never know what we have until it’s over and we’re looking back” - became emblematic of this year for me and added to what was already a really poignant and moving track. I love the musical style too and the smoothness of Aksel’s voice and how it contrasts with his evident awkward shyness. It has moved me so much that it had to end up top 5.

04 Croatia - Divlji vjetre 🇭🇷 I always will represent and bring love for the Balkans and their adhesion to their musical traditions. This was one of the most pleasant surprises of the NF season for me - I was expecting very little from Croatia, and instead, it greeted me with this beauty. You have the understated classic grace of the music, the exquisite melancholy and poeticism of the lyrics, and one of the finest male vocals of the season. My favourite Croatian track in almost 15 years.

03 Italy - Fai rumore 🇮🇹 Sanremo isn’t just a national final, it’s a cultural experience that digs into your heart over the course of a whole week. This was one of the most memorable I have followed yet - and what a truly deserving winner. It’s just another example of the seemingly endless supply of heartfelt tunes by classy, sincere performers that Italy has on tap, with one of the best lyrics of the contest and the extra level of poignancy from how the lyrical theme of isolation would come to represent us all.

02 Iceland - Think about things 🇮🇸 One of my nerviest and happiest moments of the entire NF season was seeing Daði Freyr and friends win Söngvakeppnin in Iceland. As much as I loved Svala’s Paper, I had also adored his song three years prior - the delightfully awkward and similarly irrepressably earwormy Is this love. And now he was back with a groovy, fun, heartwarming tune about fatherhood that has only continued to grow in my estimations. The bridge still full on gives me goosebumps. It’s the kind of song that just makes me marvel at being human and being on this earth.

01 Netherlands - Grow 🇳🇱 My top few songs are all very closely entwined so much so that they could be considered joint winners, but I’ve been pretty unequivocal ever since Shaj got torpedoed by its revampire: silver turned to gold and my previous 2nd place, Grow, became my new favourite. I love the heartfelt, sparsely poëtic, bravely confessional lyrics. I love the way that it goes from something minimalist and intimate with just organ and voice and slowly builds upon the hints of gospel to something truly anthemic. Such a meticulous arrangement where there’s not a single sound out of place. This song is pure art and, like Soldi, Mall, APD and all those preceding songs which had the magic of being my personal favourite, it moves me upon every listen.

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc 2020 #opinion #eurovision 2020 #esc

24 notes · View notes

loptgangandi · 4 years

Text

OH BOY GUYS HAVE I GOT A MUN-DAY STORY FOR YOU

( tl;dr I was refused entry into my mom’s home country, spent the night in an airport terminal during a pandemic, made friends with the son of one of my mom’s colleagues who just so happened to be in the exact same situation because the universe has a sense of humor, and was eventually allowed into the country because I had understood the regulations properly and the border guards had not.)

So it all started on Thursday, when my mom -- an epidemiologist working on COVID -- told me to come home ASAP because Switzerland (where she lives) was about to close its borders and had already restricted entry to anyone from neighboring states: first Italy, then Austria, Germany, and France as well.

I had already booked tickets for early April, so I called the airline, and they helped me rebook for the end of March -- the earliest I could come without paying huge fees.

Cut to Friday. I wake up to 4 missed calls and a zillion texts from my mom informing me that she had booked me on a flight for the following day -- Saturday.

With a layover in Germany.

As I had spent a good 40 minutes the previous day on the phone trying to avoid layovers in France and Germany, I was a little miffed. And worried. But the airline had assured my mother that: a) the new restrictions on Germany wouldn’t go into effect until Sunday, and b) since airport terminals are international territory, I technically would not have actually been in Germany. After some deliberation, I agreed to come home immediately. As in, Saturday. As in, the next day. The 21st. A day before Switzerland’s travel restrictions on Germany were supposed to go into effect (according to the airline, and I’m not sure what their source was).

You might already see where this is going.

I arrived at Frankfurt airport after a frankly very surreal trip -- both the flight and the original airport, which was a ghost town -- and was told by the gate agents that I couldn’t board the plane because Swiss border control would refuse me. After a bit of back and forth -- during which I switched from English to German, which got them to be a bit more helpful -- they realized that yes, indeed, citizens and residents of Schengen countries (excluding Germany, France, Italy, and Austria) were exempted from the border restrictions. This included me, as I’m a resident of Sweden.

They let me on the plane, but I was seriously worried -- because given the general environment of confusion, I had no faith that Swiss border control would know more than the Frankfurt gate agents. You’d assume they’d be informed on some things, but lets face it -- uniformed and armed people tend not to be very good at subtlety and legal minutiae, so who could know.

The one thing that can be said for the overwhelming, anxious rage I felt when the Swiss border control told me I couldn’t enter the country was that it absolutely K.O’d the part of my brain that tends to overthink my language skills and inhibit my ability to speak languages I’m not fluent in -- and I made my case in very good French. I have never spoken French so well as when I was talking to the cop I’d been palmed off to and explaining to him why I was right and they were all wrong. My mom also insisted on talking to him, and after some hesitation -- which probably had less to do with touching my potentially virus-infested phone and more to do with being on the receiving end of a middle-aged mom’s wrath -- he took the call. I offered to put it on speaker and hold it so he wouldn’t have to, but he took the phone, and argued with my mom all the way through the airport.

He seemed basically sympathetic and like he wanted to help, but his mantra was always the same: “I have my orders, I don’t know anything beyond what I’ve been told and I can’t disobey my orders.” He told mom the name of the organization to call to help out with this, but didn’t have a number for them, and couldn’t provide any other support. He was polite enough, but “polite” wasn’t going to get me home.

Where it got me was locked down tight in the airport international terminal with 10 other people who have also been turned away.

Luckily, the terminal is massive, so there was plenty of room to maintain distance.

The cops assured me that they would handle my suitcase and took my documents -- passport, Swedish residency card, and boarding passes from my trip (so they could make my flight reservations, they said, but there was probably more to it) -- and left me there.

An international airport at midnight during a pandemic is pretty much the definition of a liminal space. Every other seat in the gate waiting areas had a strip of red and white police tape running over it, back to front, and tied off at the top of the seat back to ensure that people would maintain proper distance and not sit next to each other. The music was on at a volume that, during the day, was probably appropriate to be unobtrusive over the ambient sounds of a living airport, but which in a locked-down terminal was unbelievably annoying. The lights were dim enough that there were still dark corners, and you could look around without your eyeballs melting out of your face. The only sounds (apart from the music) were the hum of the vending machines (our only food and drink options until the cafe opened at 5:30 the next morning) and the soft shuffling of people trying to get comfortable and get some sleep on the rock-hard, probably COVID-contaminated seat rows.

We were given nothing. No hand sanitizer, no water (apart from what you could buy from the vending machines), no blankets or pillows. Nothing. We had access to bathrooms with hand soap, but you had to touch the dispensers with the heel of your hand. The paper towel dispensers also weren’t automatic, so you had to touch them to get the paper towels out. There was one janitor who came in around 1 AM to clean the whole terminal, which obviously wasn’t sufficient.

I’m tough. I’ve been in some incredibly crappy situations, and at least we were warm and safe inside, and I wasn’t physically uncomfortable. I had some money to buy water, food, and later in the morning, coffee, and I figured out how to wash my hands without touching anything. But the fact that we were left in an almost certainly contaminated public space with no precautionary measures and no support for an extended amount of time -- 9 hours in my case -- was absolutely infuriating. And dangerous. And I am almost definitely going to get sick, probably because of that.

Which only made me more determined to get home. If I was going to get sick, I was going to do it in a place where I could be taken care of and nursed back to health, instead of someone else’s apartment where I just rent a room and would have had a much larger radius of contamination (my landlady/flatmate has kids and grandkids and is still going to work).

The issue, as the immigration cop had told me, came down to the fact that I had flown in from Germany.

Even though I hadn’t set foot on German soil, I had been in a German airport, and that was apparently enough. If I had flown in from any other Schengen country (apart from France, Austria, or Italy), I could have entered with no problem, since I have Swedish residency.

There was an obvious loophole there: while Sweden had no flights to that city for the following day (Sunday), Netherlands did. Brussels and Czechia did.

So while my mom contacted the immigration authority in Bern, I booked a refundable flight for 9 PM Sunday evening from Amsterdam to my mom’s city, and would request that they send me to Amsterdam instead of Stockholm. The plan was basically to make a big loop and enter through a country they deemed acceptable. The irony wasn’t lost on me -- that I would risk further contamination by city-hopping in order to loop around and end up back where I started -- but the police had prevented me from just getting into my mom’s car and self-quarantining at her apartment, which had been the original plan, so I didn’t have much of a choice.

All that was left now was to wait -- in a non-sterile, contaminated airport terminal playing the most mediocre pop album-filler of the ‘70s and ‘80s.

The only thing that made it bearable was that I made a friend.

Around 1 AM, a 20-something Japanese dude in dress pants and a polo shirt shows up on our side of the terminal from the opposite end, wanting to know if we were also bothered by the music and if he should call someone about shutting it off. He wouldn’t bother if it was just him, so he wanted to see if it was collective. I agreed, and after a few failed attempts, we miraculously managed to reach someone who said they would do what they could to turn off the music.

We got talking (and moved away from the people trying to sleep), and it turns out that it’s a small world and we were in an even smaller city, because our mothers work in the same department, were extremely close colleagues about 10 years ago, and still work together occasionally. I immediately recognized her name.

Turns out, this dude and I had both gone to school and done the IB in the same city. We both have moms working on COVID, dads living in our countries of origin (Japan for him, US for me), and younger sisters. He had also been turned away, despite having documentation that should have given him leave to enter. So there we were, stuck in that situation together, waiting to be deported and with our passports held hostage by the authorities.

We talked for six straight hours about every topic we could think of. Travel, food, relationships, siblings and family in general, COVID, electric cars, how our respective countries are reacting to COVID, racism and xenophobia (worsened by COVID -- he had an example from that same day), bosses and managers and how our offices are (and, in my case, had been) run, the pros and cons of wearing medical masks if you’re not showing symptoms of COVID, dry hands from all of the washing to avoid COVID, politics, our respective cultures and business cultures, depression and mental illness, natural disasters we had lived through, etc. “Ah fuck I’ve got COVID in my eye” became a bit of a running joke throughout the morning, as we became increasingly tired and our eyes increasingly dry, prompting runs to the bathroom to clear them out and wash our hands. We had both basically resigned ourselves to catching it -- it was just a matter of trying to pass it on to as few people as possible, preferably 0.

Around 7 AM, my new friend -- let’s call him Mike -- points out that a guard is making a beeline towards us, and he’s not holding his passport. I look, and it’s mine, and I prepare myself to argue for them to send me to Amsterdam instead of Sweden. He tells me he had just come over to see me and make sure that I was still there (??? he had my passport where was I going to go??), and he would be back in 15 minutes to let me know whether or not I could enter Switzerland.

I was completely baffled, because that option hadn’t even crossed my mind. I had been operating 100% on the assumption that I was going to be put on a plane. And Mike was happy for me, but also pretty miffed, because they had already booked a flight for him but our circumstances were pretty much identical. He had documentation proving extenuating circumstances, and I have Swedish residency and never set foot on German soil. The only difference between us is that he’s Japanese, and I’m white. I agreed that it was almost definitely a xenophobia thing, and told him that if I got in, I’d vouch for him.

15 minutes later the cop (this one was very compassionate and borderline sweet compared to the ones we’d dealt with the previous night) comes back and tells me I could go through. I gather my stuff, and explain to him about Mike. The cop looks puzzled, but promises that he’ll make some calls and try to sort it out, and I should come with him. He takes me through to get my suitcase and escorts me to the exit, where he welcomes me to Switzerland with a big smile.

I called my mom and settled in to wait for her to pick me up. Ten minutes later, Mike tells he’s also been allowed through. My mom (who had literally rolled out of bed in her pajamas, thrown on a coat and shoes, and jumped in the car) and I offered him a ride, but he had called his mom immediately and she was coming to get him. I didn’t see him again -- my mom arrived before he came through -- but we’ve been in touch, and both of us got home safe.

Now my mom and I are completely self-quarantined with the cats, and honestly, it’s wonderful. We’re not leaving the house except for the occasional walk. I slept 12 hours last night. My mom is plying me with tea to make sure I’m hydrated as we wait for me to get sick, and I spent the 6 hours recording this whole nonsense saga for posterity.

tl;dr I was refused entry into my mom’s home country, spent the night in an airport terminal during a pandemic, and made friends with the son of one of my mom’s colleagues who just so happened to be in the exact same situation

#ooc tag #| cryptid spotting || (mun-day)

9 notes · View notes

letarasstuff · 5 years

Text

What makes you beautiful

Author’s note: So yeah, this is my first fanfiction here on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it :)

Summary: Lea is an intern at the Jeffersonian. She meets Finn Abernathy and makes friends with him really fast. But what happens, when she realizes, how wrong she is treated by her boyfriend?

Warnings: Abusive boyfriend, so don’t read it, when you are sensitive to this subject. Language, i think? And bad grammar, English isn’t my first language, so please tell me any errors in it!

3211 words, I am sorry

As a kid, whose parents often fought before they got a divorce, you learn to be scared of seeing other people argue or having an argument yourself.

Now I am a teenager working as an intern, or squintern as Booth likes to call us, at the Jeffersonian. I visit my mother every two weeks for a weekend in Maryland.

So being someone, who despises fighting, your worst ‘enemy’ are relationships. Like, when your partner does things, leaving their socks and underwear all over the house for example, you tell them to stop that in a gentle way to avoid any confrontation.

Maybe you are lucky and your significant other stops leaving their crap everywhere. I wasn't that lucky. My boyfriend screamed at me, saying I only want to change him and that I was invading his private space. From now on every time I ask him to do something nicely, he lashes out on my.

Sometimes, when he is angry or pissed already, Leo slaps or kicks me. I know, it sounds stupid to not break up with him, but I love him and he loves me. We are a good team. I do the chores as soon I get home from school or the Jeffersonian and he teaches me to be the best version of myself.

After a rather exhausting day at school, I am called by Dr Brennan to assist her on a case. It’s an investigation from the FBI. The victim was found in a burnt down warehouse. Now they need us to confirm or to deny, if it is a murder or not in order to do further searches.

After sliding my badge down the security check I go on the platform. I’m greeted by Angela immediately. “Hey Sweetie. Nice to see you. I hope you are still in school”, says she and gives me a hug. Laughing I respond: “No, I didn’t drop out since the last time we saw each other, that was like three days ago?”

Then I put on some latex gloves and bid a “Hello Dr Brennan” to my mentor.

But there is also someone I don’t know yet. “Hello Miss Smith. I’m glad you could make it. This is Mr Finn Abernathy, another intern. I need both of your opinions on this case. The corpse is burnt down to the bone and any evidence is most certainly destroyed. I am not sure if we can find anything at all.”

Then Dr B turns to the guy with the baseball cap, which has the Jeffersonian logo on it, and introduces me: “This is Lea Smith. Although she is still in school and only 17 years old, she has a magnificent knowledge on anthropology.” With a kind smile Finn sticks his hand out for me and speaks: “Good day, Miss Smith. It’s really a pleasure to meet you.”

Well the boy got quite a nice accent. “Why thank you. I really look forward to work with you, Mr Abernathy. Also please call me Lea. I’m barely 17 years old and it's making me feel like I'm at least 30.” Before he has the chance to answer our mentor interferes. After all we got a case to solve!

After many hours of running tests and examining bones, Dr Brennan sent me home. Thankful I say goodbye to everyone just wanting to get finally home.

“How do you get home?” asks Finn concerned. “I take the next bus. We are in Washington DC. Here comes the bus to my neighborhood every 20 minutes in the night”, I answer. Shaking his head he begins to peel himself out of the blue jacket. “There is no way I let you go all by yourself. We are in Washington DC. A young good looking lady like you are as safe as my money in 2009. I drive you home.”

After a while sitting in uncomfortable silence Finn speaks up: “So you are still going to school? Isn’t it a bit too stressful? I mean, Dr B has some tough standards. But at the same time your grates aren’t allowed to drop, are they?”

Looking down to my fidgeting fingers in my lap I answer: “Well a part-time job as a waitress would be much easier. But I need a place, where I have to use my knowledge and mind. It’s like a big puzzle you have to solve. Everywhere are pieces, you just have to find them. Also school is quite easy for me. My biggest problem actually is time. Now it’s 2 a.m. and I have to finish an essay for English in seven hours. So sleep is a sweet thing I have to treasure like a pirate a golden coin, Mr Abernathy.” “That was well said”, he smiles, ”And please call me Finn. It feels off for me to be called Mr by someone, who just told me to stop calling them Miss.”

Now, that the ice is broken, we talk about everything and nothing actually. 20 minutes later we are at my apartment complex. While getting my seat belt off, I turn to my new coworker: “Well thank you for driving me out here. You really didn’t have to do this.” He just waves it off: “I insist. It was really a pleasure talking to you. So go and finish that essay. It’s going to be as amazing as you. And please go to bed as soon as possible. We all need a good

sleep, even you. Sleep tight!” After an awkward hug like thing I step out of the car and open the door to go to my apartment. Before I close the door I wave Finn goodbye.

With a huge smile plastered on my face I open the door to my sweet home. It’s a cozy little apartment I share with my boyfriend. After my parent’s divorce I moved in here with my dad, while my mom went to her new girlfriend in Maryland. When I was 16 my dad wanted us to move back to Germany. He and mom originally are from there. But I wasn’t too pleased with his decision. I had a job as an intern for THE Dr Brennan, a nice school, a few friends and my boyfriend here in the US. In the end he moved out and my boyfriend in. So I kinda life on my own, the big dream of every teenage girl.

Trying to avoid any loud noises I tiptoe in the kitchen. After closing the door silently, I turn on the light. Then I see Leo, my beloved boyfriend, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. He looks beyond pissed.

“Where were you for fucks sake?!” he asks. Every syllable is pure anger and hatred. That will not end good for me.

“i-i-i was at the lab. Th-they n-needed me for a c-case.” My whole body is shaking in fear. While getting up Leo nearly screams: “And what were you thinking, when you didn’t say something about that to me? I was worried sick!”

Suddenly he pushes me. I fall on the floor, my head banging against the table leg. Leo grabs my hair, throwing my head up violently. I try not to cry.

“I-I am s-sor-sorry”, I sob. But the man just snorts: “I don’t believe that. You know, I don’t want to punish you. But if you wanna be the best version of yourself you have to learn from your mistakes.” With that he slaps my the face and let go of my hair. Forcefully I meet the cold white tiles of the kitchen floor. Then my boyfriend goes away. I hear his footsteps in the hallway and a door opening and closing. He is in the bedroom now.

A tear slips from my eyes finding its way my cheek down. My head is pounding. A few minutes later I get up carefully. Everything spins for a few seconds, but I regain my composure and get my backpack from the hallway. With a massive headache and a hurting heart I finish this essay.

It’s needless to say, that I didn’t get much sleep last night. When my homework was finally done, I had to think about the things I did wrong. Leo’s punishment has to be a lesson for me, therefore I have to analyze my behavior and do it better next time.

While sitting alone in the cafeteria during lunchtime eating an apple, my phone rings: “Smith” “Hello Miss Smith. It’s Dr Brennan. We have a new lead on the victim’s identity. Please come to the Jeffersonian as soon as possible.” Oh well, seems like my next free afternoon isn’t going to be today.

After the conversation with my kind of boss ended, I call Leo. “Hey Sweetheart”, he greets me.

I love this boy so much. “Hey Baby”, I answer breathlessly, “I just wanted to let you know, that I have to go to work right after school again today.” Anxiously I wait for his opinion. “Okay, Sweetheart. But make sure you are home by 10.” Happily I thank him.

A few awfully long periods later I finally am able to leave the hell called school. Not much later I arrive at the Jeffersonian.

“There you are”, Dr Brennan says when I get on the platform. “I’m sorry, but I had a quiz in sixth period.” Then we continue our destiny.

Yes, working with dead bodies is a destiny in my opinion. You have to be born to be able to do this. You must be prepared for anything mentally.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. My granny needed help with her computer, stating she deleted the internet. It’s a lot more difficult to calm down an 80 year old woman than a bag full of puppies”, explains Finn himself.

Dr B nods: “It’s okay, Mr Abernathy. Family is more important than anything else. Please watch it that this doesn’t get to be a routine. You aren’t getting paid for nothing.” Finn takes this advice with gratitude.

“Hey Lea. How went the essay?” he asks me while putting latex gloves on. With a genuine smile I answer: “Thank you for asking. My teacher was very pleased with the presentation of the main problems from George Orwell’s 1984.” My coworker responds with a: “I’m happy to hear that.”

Suddenly I feel like I’ve been struck with a lighting. “I have an idea!” And then I’m on my way off of the platform to Hodgins’ lab.

“Hey Little One! Long time no see, he?” he greets me. I say: “Hello Bug Man! Can you do me a favor?”

Half an hour later Brennan and Booth are out to get the suspect. While waiting for news I sit in the lounge doing my homework. You gotta take every chance you get to do them.

“Oh, what’s that?” Startled by a voice I turn around. “Oh, it’s just you, Finn. Sorry, I’m a very jumpy person”, I explain myself after being reassured, that this voice is from someone, who isn’t going to hurt me. Then I look at what I wrote.

“Oh, that’s just for biology. It’s not that difficult, just something with osmosis and so.” “That’s not what I meant. It makes no sense to me. It isn’t English, is it?” he asks interested.

Then I know Finn is talking about: “Ah, it’s some good old German. I was born in Boston though. My parents moved to the US like 25 years ago. So I still learned their mother tongue. It’s quite important to them that I don’t forget their origin. And now I’m writing this paper in German at first for my mother. Her vocabulary isn’t good enough in specific areas, her knowledge on the other hand is very impressive. So I let her read it and then translate the whole thing in English, her notes indeed.”

The young man has a look of astonishment on his face. “Wow. That’s so cool. Maybe you can teach me some German and something about the culture over there. I can pay you back in showing how to speak with the coolest southern accent the world has ever witnessed!” “Well, hack my legs off and call my shorty. We have a deal!”

Weeks go by and Finn and I become great friends. We tell each other almost everything. He even visits me in school or waits for me so we can do something afterwards. Leo never does something like this with me.

We know each other like the back of our hands. There is one thing I don’t tell Finn though: What happens in my apartment.

Slowly but surely I realize that everything, that is going on in there, is wrong. When my now best friend told me about his past, especially his stepfather, I began to think.

Finn shows me on so many ways, that imperfection is that, what makes you beautiful. He makes me believe I’m already enough. And when I make a mistake, it’s fine. That’s what makes all of us human.

When I finally conclude this construct of beauty, I lay awake next to Leo. I already feel the bruises forming on my body. In this night I don’t get a wink of sleep.

Now that I know the “truth”, I am embarrassed. How dumb am I? Thinking that this guy loves me and keeps hurting me to make me perfect is nuts. It is paradox.

But am I too deep in this mess to get out? Isn’t it too late now? Is this how I am going to live until I am gray and old? Do I want that?

The next few days I distance myself from everyone. I try to spend as little time as possible at the Jeffersonian by saying that I have too much school work or I am sick. Right now I am too ashamed to look anybody in the eyes there. I’m considered as a genius, but I am too stupid to figure out something so simple sooner?

It’s like the third week in a row, that I bailed out on Dr Brennan with the excuse, that I’m sick. This time it isn’t even a lie. My dear boyfriend thought I don’t give him enough attention. So he locked me out on the balcony in the middle of winter. Now I have a fever of like 39° C (102,2° F for you Americans), a massive headache and the worst cold I ever experienced in my short life in general.

Now the 20 years old man is at work, where he has to watch over the same machines on a monitor. So it’s nothing exhausting he is doing for a living. That is why I’m confused when the doorbell rings. I abandon my project for history and open the door. Before I get the chance to register who it is, I have to sneeze. “Oh well, that is a nice greeting. God shall bless you and your poor soul”, says Finn with a look of pity on his face.

“Haha, thank you, Dork. Come in or else I freeze my guts off out here.” I lead him into my apartment. Then I realize something. “May you excuse me, now the nice warmth is gone and I need a hoodie. This way goes to the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable.” And then I bolt for the bedroom.

Now see, I didn’t expect any visits from anyone. So I can go around my habitat without worrying about my bruises. When I’m out I make sure to cover them somehow.

Dressed in a Jeffersonian sweatshirt I go back into the kitchen. When my coworker sees me, he smiles: “Oh there you are. Hold on, is that mine?” With a blush on my face I scratch my neck and respond: “Maybe? I can’t help it, but it’s really comfy.” I finish with a shrug.

Laughing Finn assures me, that I am allowed to keep it. He wanted to ask Cam for a new one anyway. “But my visit actually has another reason than just checking up on you”, the young man tells me while I prepare a cup of tea for the both of us. “And the real reason may be what?” I want to know curiously. Sighing Finn explains: “You distant yourself from us. I thought it was only me, who had this feeling. But yesterday I talked about it with the whole team. Booth misses the ‘only other normal person in the lab’. Cam and Hodgins think, that something bad happened and are so close to emerge into that door to get you out of an emergency. Sweets tells us all the time, that you shut yourself out and that this means nothing good. Angela is ready to kick someone’s ass, if they hurt you. Even Dr B is in need of your comments and ideas while working. We all are worried about you. Please let us finally know what the hell is happening. Why aren’t you answering any of our phone calls? Why aren’t you showing up at the Jeffersonian? You are needed there. Without your person the whole lab is kind of unbalanced like a drunk man on his way home from a pub.” His eyes looks pleadingly into mine.

I couldn’t answer any calls, because Leo has my phone. In his pure rage of not getting enough attention, he took my phone and isn’t willing to give it back to me any time soon.

And that is when realization hits me completely.

Leo doesn’t just hurt me, he controls me. Every move I make I'm watched by him. It’s like living with a personal Big Brother.

I don’t wanna be controlled anymore. I’m sick of not being able to do what I want. I want to be in charge of myself again.

Finally I do the right thing.

I lock eyes with Finn. Without saying anything I roll up the arms of the hoodie, revealing a spectrum of colors.

While waiting for his reaction, tears start to form in my eyes and stream down my cheeks.

Gasping he looks at my injuries. From the dark bruises to the fresh wounds and the healed scars. Lightly he traces along them with his fingers, trying to not hurt me any more. I don’t move. I just show him my greatest act of trust. I trust him with my darkest secret.

Now Finn is crying too. Between sobs he hugs me and whispers into my ear: “I’m so so so sorry, Lea. I’m going to do everything in my power to stop that crazy shit immediately. Nobody deserves to be treated like this, especially you. I promise.”

And he keeps it. After this Finn takes me to the Jeffersonian, where I get an all check up. With the evidence, that is collected, Caroline builds a case against Leo.

It doesn’t matter what’s going to happen. It doesn’t matter how long Leo goes to jail, if he goes there at all. The only important thing to me now is the support I get from my colleagues – my family – who help me every step I take.

#finn abernathy #bones #bones team #fanfic #oneshot #temperance brennan #seeley booth #angela montenegro #jack hodgins #camille saroyan #jeffersonian

49 notes · View notes

dillydedalus · 4 years

Text

september reading

there is literally no way it is september. impossible. anyway this month we have horror, Fake Dating, the rashomon effect, a time war, and most importantly, no neutrals to be found anywhere

the old man & his sons, heðin brú (tr. from faroese by john f. west) published on the faroe islands in 1940 and the first faroese novel to be translated into english, this is a story about the dramatic shift in life style during the 30s on the faroe islands, from hardscrabble subsistence farming/fishing to market economy. interesting look at changing life on isolated isles, and a much lighter (and shorter) take on the stubborn autonomous subsistence farmer than laxness’s independent people. 3/5

the white shroud, antanas škėma (tr from lithuanian by karla gruodis - english/claudia sinnig - german) a modernist, fragmented, nonlinear novel about a lithuanian poet gone into exile, now working as an elevator operator in a new york hotel, who is involved with a married woman but might also be terminally ill. in between the present timeline, the book flashes back (both in the character’s own writing and in third person) to his youth in lithuania, his torture at the hands of the soviet regime, his time at a DP camp in germany and so on. quite interesting, with some great writing. 3/5

things we lost in the fire, mariana enríquez (tr. from spanish by megan mcdowell) really good collection of horror-ish short stories that also touch on gendered violence, child abuse, poverty and argentinian history (esp. dictatorship and disappearances) - some stories are more overtly horror, with clear supernatural elements, others are more ambiguous. i don’t read (or watch) horror stuff so i’m a bad judge of how scary this is - i found it more gruesome and upsetting than terrifying, but the dread is strong in this one. favourites: adela’s house (hungry haunted house), end of term and the title story (women & self-inflictred violence), under the black water (the poisoned oil-choked river is very bad but maybe.... there’s something worse in there). good, vividly gruesome, sharp sharp sharp. 3.5/5

axiom’s end, lindsay ellis i really like lindsay ellis, of all the ~youtube video essayists~ she’s probably my favourite and this book a) has a cool premise - aliens + conspiracies + alien communication and b) a really cool cover, and it’s lindsay, so i was super excited for this one. and it would be unfair to say i was disappointed with it; it’s a fun first contact romp with really good pacing, cool aliens, on-brand lindsay ellis humour and some interesting ideas on communicating with someone who is truly alien and incomprehensible. it’s fine! i enjoyed it and will definitely read the sequel, it’s just... i was hoping it would be AMAZING, and it just wasn’t. no huge problems (except for a few lines i would have liked to take a red pen to), just.... it was fine. 3.5/5

zeno’s conscience, italo svevo (tr. from italian by william weaver) imagine you’re a businessman in trieste who does a little unsuccessful writing on the side and one day you decide to take english lessons to improve your business opportunities with the uk and your english teacher is JAMES FUCKING JOYCE who tells you that you need to keep writing. incredible. anyway these are the autobiographical notes of one zeno cosini, a hapless hypochondriac smug self-delusional fool, who just cannot quite quit smoking, marries the one sister out of three he least desires, & works as an accountant (for the man who married his most-desired of said sisters) despite his rather tenuous grasp on bookkeeping. my favourite scene is when his future sister in law (2nd most desired) complains lightly about her difficulties with latin, he tells her that he believes latin is a man’s language and even roman ladies probably didn’t actually speak it, only for her to correct him on a latin quotation. i will say tho that this book is way to long to maintain the endearingness and often drags. 3/5 tfw u write for an audience of one but that one is james joyce so fair enough

der hund/der tunnel/die panne, friedrich dürrenmatt dürrenmatt (in addition to having a cool-ass name) really fucking slaps! his stuff is really good, and often really really wild. these three stories are all weird & slightly existentially scary, two degrees left of reality, and just. so interesting! we have a man stalking a street preacher and his monstrous dog, a train going through a tunnel for way too long (and it is very scary), and a man becoming involved in a pretend-trial (or is it) and becoming convinced that he actually is a murderer (or is he, really?). anyway, dürrenmatt.... slaps. 4/5

wow, no thank you., samantha irby a mix of memoir and comedy blogpost and social critique blogpost about growing up poor & black, dating while fat, chronic illness, and settling down in rural america. it’s fine. i haven’t read irby’s previous collections so maybe i’m missing that emotional connection, but i thought it was mostly...okay?? not especially funny imo & i prefered the more serious chapters of which there weren’t enough. 2/5

they say in harlan county: an oral history, alessandro portelli really impressive oral history about life in harlan county, appalachia, focusing on the labor strikes and conflicts in the 30s and 40s, but really exploring life and politics in the region from the first non-native settlement there to today. really interesting, sometimes inspiring and often infuriating and probably worth reading if you’ve ever listened to which side are you on. 4/5

rashomon & other stories, ryunosuke akutagawa (tr. from japanese by jay rubin) fun fact: if you read the short story “rashomon” expecting to get the, y’know, rashomon effect, you won’t get it bc the film actually takes its plot from the story “in a grove”. anyway this is an interesting collection of classic japanese short stories, many of which are actually about unreliable witnesses/narrators. i particularly enjoyed “in a grove” and the truly disturbing “hell screen”, but found this particular collection just a bit too long. 3/5

women without men, shahrnush parsipur (tr. from farsi by kamran talatoff & joceyln sharlet) a magical realist feminist novella about 5 women in iran who all try to liberate themselves from men in one way or another, more or less successfully (one of them turns into a tree, another becomes undead), until they end up in a semi-utopian garden together for a time. disturbing in its depiction oppression and sexual/gendered violence. i don’t really know how i feel about it, but it’s a really unique and interesting reading experience; very fraught and ambivalent in the end. 3.5/5

take a hint, dani brown, talia hibbert i think this is the first actual pure genre-romance book i’ve read... in years??possibly ever? idk. anyway this is mostly a pretty fun & sweet story about ambitious & emotionally constipated phd student dani brown and security guy with tragic past zaf ansari, who begin a fake relationship for Various Reasons (as you do) and both develop Real Feelings (as you do, predictably). it’s mostly really enjoyable but man i’m really not used to Romance writing & it’s a lot. in the end everyone is very genuine & earnest & emotionally honest which.... not to be even more emotionally repressed than dani but i cannot deal with that. anyway given that 2020 truly is the gift that keeps on giving this was a fun fluffy delight & i might read more from the series. 3.5/5

this is how you lose the time war, amal el-mohtar & max gladstone two agents (red and blue) on opposing sides of a time war (the futuristic techy Agency vs the eco/organic Garden - neither of them is Good or Bad exactly) start writing letters as they hunt each other through the strands of time’s braid and eventually (inevitably) fall in love. really interesting concept of time travel and different timelines (if, like me, you conceptualise past as down and future as up, this will trip you up so much), very lyrical writing that sometimes toes the line to overwritten but mostly really works. 3.5/5

DNF: the madman of freedom square & the iraqi christ, hassan blasim (tr. from arabic by jonathan wright, german tr. by hartmut fähndrich) bindup of these two short story collections about iraq. these are incredibly brutal, depressing & horrifying stories about a country in a constant state of war & struggle. couldn’t bear it, probably not ever & certainly not right now.

allegro pastell, leif randt (audio) this is brilliant, bitingly funny novel about a millenial couple, tanja & jerome, and their on-and-off long distance relationship. they are privileged (and half-aware of it), attractive, successful, very in touch with their own feelings (couldn’t be me), self-reflective, faintly ironic in everything bc sincerity might be cringe, and you will hate them. these are people who perform their feelings rather than feel them, dissect all their opinions and impulses to the point of both paralysis and narcissism, engage in constant navelgazing and cannot form any relationship that isn’t based in constant evaluation and judgment. they pride themselves on their nonconformity but are really the greatest conformists of all, and the most square, boring, spießig people under the veneer of their urban liberal drug-and-club lifestyle. had so much fun with it even as i was constantly cringing at these people. 4/5

#the books i read #long post

1 note · View note

misslilidelaney · 6 years

Text

AntiSchneptic

Pairing: Schneep x Anti

Warning: very foul language, mention of violence, blood.

“FOCK! IT HURTSS!” “Shuddup gurl, you are only making it worse! Don’t move!” “Oh, oh no! What do we do? Wil are you done? We have to take Anti to the hospital!!” "I am done, I am done. You fellas should really pay more attention. They would not remember a thing, and stop saying our names!” “Wait, Pats, no. I am not going there. They’ll ask QUESTIONS. And call the cops. And all that fucking circle.” “What do you suggest then, Glitch Bitch?” “Let’s… urgh, let’s go to the college infirmary.” “That is a wondrous idea, friendo. There’ll be something to stop the bleeding and the Doctor retired last week!” “Let’s hope the new one is not a workaholic then! Sleeping B, start this car and let’s go!” “Yas gurl!”

His new office.

Henrik closed the door behind him and looked around. It was amazing. He finally was free from the pesky little hospital in Germany where no one appreciated his innovative thinking, his ways to operate. A lot of people would have been disappointed to go from surgery to working in a college infirmary, but not Henrik. He always liked being helpful and this is was the right place. Plus, the McLoughlin College was a pretty pricey University and when he first heard the minimum wage he thought he misheard. Way more than he espected, no wonder the previous doctor worked till he couldn’t anymore. He sat down, in the dark, his eyes closed. Tomorrow would have been his first day, the first day as “Henrik Von Schneeplestein, school doctor”! He laughed at himself, and grabbed his phone, taking a pics to upload on Instagram to brag with his friends. That’s when he heard the soft thud from the infirmary, divided by a sliding door from his office. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, a surprised look on his face when he clearly heard voices from three… no, four people? Maybe they were students, but why were they in the infirmary at that time? Were they trying to steal something? Oh, not on HIS WATCH! He stood up as quietly as he could, but from the voices it was clear they were not expecting somebody so they talked quite loudly. Henrik slided the door open just a inch, and looked. He was right, there were four people in the room. He tried to memorise the particulars of those individuals to remember them and file the report to the campus security correctly. One was wearing a light yellow shirt, glasses and… were those mustache pink? He looked at his green hair and well, maybe he shouldn’t speak. The one next to him was a tiny boy that looked like didn’t belong in the weird group of specimen in front of him. He was wearing a light blue polo and a cat-like cardigan, black thick glasses and he looked like a soft puffball. The complete opposite of the… Wait, was that a girl or a boy? Well, they were extremely tall and had a crop top, a leather jacket and rocked the sweetest manbun ever, and the coolest purple eyeshadow. They muttered something and that��s when Henrik saw him.

Sit on the cot, was a skinny boy dressed all in black. Ripped jeans, a simple black tee with a deep V neck, a bunch of tattoos on his arms. And his hair was a little darker shade of green than his own. He was clearly the one they were there for, because when he raised his head he had a bleeding eye. A bleeding eye paired with a baby blue eye, the most beautiful Henrik had ever seen in his life. And the other one was the most interesting he saw in his carreer. He decided to shut up and listen what they were saying. “Remy, no! The antiseptic would burn his eye completely!!!” The tiny boy reached the tallest person and grabbed a bottle from their hand. They shrugged: “Okay Pattoncake, what do you suggest? We just patch the eye and let it go rotten? I dunno about you gurl, but it does NOT sound like a plan to me. What do you say, Wilford?” The guy with the pink mustache was calmly looking all the cabinets, patting a finger on his mustaches and humming. “Wilford, answer me boo, we don’t have all day here!” “Calm yourself, Remy.” Sighed the other “As you may notice I am looking for something to stop the bleeding. THEN we deal with the presumable infection our dear Anti may or may not have.” Henrik shivered a little. That guy was probably on his first year, but still he gave him the creeps. Then the bleeding one spoke, a high pitched, hoarse voice. “As long as you move, fockers. I don’t have the all day and this bitchy eye focking HURTS!” Was that an Irish accent? Did he find a fellow european? Okay, no. Focus. He was tempted to let them do and pretend to not be here, but when… Wilford? grabbed the most wrong of the bottles and poured its content on a cotton pad, he knew he had to intervene. He opened the door and spoke, kinda bossily.

“STOP YOURZELFES! YOU VILL ONLY HURT HIM MORE!” Anti almost had a fucking heart attack. The door of the supposedly empty office opened wide, and a tall figure emerged from the darkness. He had light green hair. Oh come on, another green haired one? I should go back to brown! he thought for a bried second. The guy was wearing a blue t shirt, with black loose jeans. But what captured him was the piercing blue eyes, way more perfect then his own. They were also framed by a pair of glasses. And the light shadow of beard framed his lips and “HOLD ON FUCKER WHO ARE YOU?” He suddenly remembered where he was when Remy screams, Pat already panicking ad Warfy looking just surprised. The guy in front of them crossed his arms and smirked “I am ze one who iz supposed to be here. Myn name is Henrik von Schneeplestein, and I am ze new doctor.” The four boys gasped. Anti instinctively looked at Remy, because they were the only one not supposed to be here, being a dropout and all. “Oh boi, okay. Good sir! We are very very sorry to have stepped in your property but, as you can see, our friend is badly injuried and we would like to help him out.” Wilford of course tried to smooth talk the doctor, but the other raised a hand at him to stop his talking. “Ja, ja. I can see, young man… Vilford, correct?” FUCK HE KNOWS OUR NAMES. HOW. SURE, because FUCKING EVERYONE SAID THEIR NAMES. GOD. Anti wanted to scream but remained silent, while the doctor came closer to him. “Don’t try to focking touch me, asshole. I will focking bite you!” “Okay, you don’t vant your eye to be better? Suit yourzelf. Get out then. But I suggest you just stay calm and let Ze Good Doctor help you.” The doctor grinned. “We vant these pretty blue eyes to be even and prettier right?” Was the doctor fucking… flirting??? Remy raised their eyebrows and muttered “Gurrrrl”, while Patton smiled knowingly. Oh shite, now he will blabber about me having a senpai or some bullshit like that. While he watched his friends, he didn’t even notice the doctor go the cabinets, grab a pair of small bottles and come back to him. “Please lay down… Vhat is your name, young Anti? Because I guess iz not actually Anti.” He talks fucking funny but his voice is super soothing. “My name is Sean Brody, doctor.” He was shook. Why did he tell that guy his fucking name? Not that it was a secret but… He wanted the doctor to say his name. What the actual fuck. He heard Remy go “Guuuuuuurrrlll” under their breath, Patton lightly sigh and Wilford just shook his head, smiling softly. Not his fucking fault if he was a 19 years old with a thing for guys from 30 and above. And that doctor, with his green hair, his fucking perfect eyes, his lips… Well he checked all the things Anti likes in an instant. He lay down on the cot, and let the Doctor work his science on him.

After a few months of going to the infirmary almost everyday for one excuse or the other, Henrik finally asked Anti why he was always here. “It’s not that I don’t like your company, but I am not a counselor, and I cannot help you vith… non doctor stuff. Psychology is not myn field and you know it, Sean. Also, you always come here hurt like crazy, I am starting to vorry a little” He usually called him Anti, also because the boy basically begged him to not use his actual name, but this time he wanted a serious answer so the proper name was a must. At the question, the student blushed badly. Henrik raised his eyebrows in surprise. That was… not what he expected. He espected the boy to throw a tantrum and insult him, as usual, but not that time. And fuck, he was… so damn cute. No, Bad Doctor. He is a student. You are… not his teacher but still it’s not a thing that should happen, even if the boy is clearly of the right age. In public at least. “Well, doctor… I am… Er…” “Henrik.” “What? But…” “I know. But you come here almost everyday and… You can call me Henrik, if you vant.” He sat on the cot next to the student, puttin his hands behind himself and looking at the lamp above their heads. And he asked him, softly. “Anti, do you try and succed to hurt yourzelf just to have an excuse to see Ze Good Doctor?” He does not look at him, letting the boy blush in piece. Oh. He likes that blush a little bit too much.

“What? Are you focking crazy?” He turned and looked at the doctor, who was only now returning his gaze. Those fucking perfect eyes. Those fucking perfect lips. He gazed at them and with a “Fockin’ damn it all.” closed the gap between him and the doctor. At first the man was frozen in place, but with a grunt he grabbed Anti’s head, both hands, and pushed himself closer to the boy’s mouth. The kiss became soon a make out session, and at the end of it, the Doctor pulled back and said, serious but all red on his face: “Of course it’s a thing between us. I don’t vant to be fired or for you to be expelled. Also please stop hurting yourzelf to see me.” Anti nodded, smiling: “I don’t want you to be fired too. Where could I get all the bandaging I need from the fucking times I actually hurt myself. I am very, very clumsy.” More like, I hurt myself when I beat the shit out of people because Patton asks so nicely, AND I am clumsy. But shh, details. The doctor shook his head, and leaned in for another kiss. None of them heard the sound of the sliding door opening, nor the softest click of the camera that captured them together.

Dewey Seeth looks at the picture on his phone. Nobody knows about it, not even his Jaques. And lately, he, his lovely boyfriend and their new, rich, perpetually bored friend, just discovered that their favourite dealer was put in jail. “Maybe I can do something with you, little little thing.” He wispers, and turns on his computer. Time to see how good is zis Doctor.

(Notes and taglist)

WOOOOAH!

This was so fun to write! Also, I wanted to introduce a character I almost forgot to mention in the presentation: Remy “Sleeping Booty / Sleeping Bitch” Morphes, Bing’s Genderfluid Partner.

Remy was clearly inspired by @asofterfan AND @devilishrianna versions of Remy so all credits go to them! Finally, the pairing Anti x Schneep (Which I decided will be AntiSchneptic from now on) was inspired by @veykun ‘s Henry x Lil A couple, and they are my OTP FOREVER.

TAGLIST:

@shetanibonaparte @marriedwithjosh @hotcocoachia

(write me an ask if you wish to be added? I dunno how much I will post about it, and PLEASE feel free to write/draw/anything about this AU, as long as you tag me!) Mashup!AU MasterPost

41 notes · View notes

douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT WAY

When you're an outsider, don't be deterred from doing it. I'm optimistic.1 You don't release code late at night.2 But there is no apparent cost of increasing it.3 The CRM114 Discriminator. No one after reading Aristotle's Metaphysics does anything differently as a result of this practice was that we feared a brand-name VC firm would stick us with a county-by-word to save it from being mangled by some twenty five year old woman who wants to have lots of worries, but you feel like a second class citizen. The real danger is that you should study whatever you were most interested in. Half the time I'm sitting drinking a cup of tea. Chair designers have to spend on bullshit varies between employers. Well, most adults labor under restrictions just as cumbersome, and they also have more brand to preserve.4 Html#f8n 19.

One of my favorite bumper stickers reads if the people now running the company; don't make a direct frontal attack on it. And it can last for months. Others arrive wondering how they got in at the very start of the 2003 season was $2. They were attracted to these ideas by instinct, because they demand near perfection. No one seems to have voted for intelligence.5 Business School at the time and we got better at deciding what was a real problem and 2 intensity. Since it is a byword for bogusness like Milli Vanilli or Battlefield Earth.

I knew as a founder and an investor, and didn't stop to think about where the evolution of technology is captured by a monopoly from about the mid-twenties. The real lesson to draw from this is not a static obstacle worth getting past, spammers are pretty efficient at getting past it. I know of zero. But don't give them much money either. Work in small groups. Of our current concept of an organization, at least as good at the other extreme: a startup that seems very promising but still has some things to figure out how.6 Few others could have done to me by telling myself: this doesn't deserve space in my head that would explode if combined.7 We're up against a blank wall. If startups become a cheap commodity, more people would do. When you raise a lot of people.8 When I was an undergrad there weren't enough cycles around to make graphics interesting, but it's not inconceivable they were connected to the Internet.

Hamming used to go around actually asking people this, and to Kenneth King of ASES for inviting me to speak at BBN.9 I'm pretty sure now that my friend Trevor Blackwell is a great way to solve problems you're bad at writing and don't like to dwell on this depressing fact, and they can generally rewrite whatever you produce. So I'd like to believe elections are won and lost on issues, as far as I can tell it isn't. People in America. Should you add x feature? So which ones?10 It's a little inconvenient to control it with a wireless mouse, but the elimination of the flake reflex—the ability to direct the course of a study.11

Because I thought about the topic.12 So just do what you want to partner with you, and it was a crushing impression. It's what a startup buys you is time.13 In either case the implications are similar. Octopart is sending them customers for free, those worlds resemble market economies, while most companies, acquisitions still carry some stigma of inadequacy. Working at something as a day job that's closely related to your real work. Here are some of your claims and granting others.14 Knowledge is power. A few years before by a big company. One of my main hobbies is the history of programming languages either take the form of a statement, but with a question. Though in a sense attacking you. For founders that's more than a couple weeks.

Maybe if you can afford to be rational and prefer the latter.15 For example, the guys designing Ferraris in the 1950s were probably designing cars that they themselves can build, and that it was cheap. Yet the cause is human nature. Particularly in technology, at least, nothing good. But when you choose a language, you're also choosing a community. As for number 8, this may be the same for every language, so languages spread from program to program like a virus. It's like calling a car a horseless carriage.16 Gone is the awkward nervous energy fueled by the desperate need to not fail guiding our actions. 9889 and. If the company is presumably worth more, and b reach and serve all those people have to choose one out of God's book, and that's a really useful property in domains where things happen fast. Either the company is already a write-off.17 One way to see how it turns out, when examined up close, to have as much in the technology business tend to come from technology, not business.18

And for a significant number. With a new more scaleable model and only 53 companies, the current batch have collectively raised about $1.19 Rise up, cows! The results so far bear this out.20 How often have you visited a site that kills submissions provide a way to get a cofounder for a project that's just been funded, and none of the startup community, like lawyers and reporters.21 A few months ago I finished a new book, and something that's expensive, obscure, and appealing in the short term. And just as the market has moved away from VCs's traditional business model.

Notes

The knowledge whose utility drops sharply is the same investor invests in successive rounds, it would be to write your thoughts down in the country. I suspect the recent resurgence of evangelical Christians.

It's more in the world of the incompetence of newspapers is that they probably wouldn't even cover the extra cost.

If you're good you'll have to mean the company.

Eighteen months later Google paid 1. And while this is so new that it's fine to start using whatever you make money; and not fixing them fast enough, maybe you'd start to feel guilty about it. It requires the kind of method acting. It doesn't take a small seed investment in you, they sometimes say.

Yahoo. They therefore think what drives users to switch to OSX. 05 15, the group of picky friends who proofread almost everything I say the rate of change in the definition of property. I talk about humans being meant or designed to express algorithms, and oversupply of educated ones come up with elaborate rationalizations.

It's one of the founders of failing startups would even be symbiotic, because sometimes artists unconsciously use tricks by imitating art that is a matter of outliers, are better college candidates. If the rich paid high taxes?

But Goldin and Margo think market forces in the long tail for other reasons, including both you and the ordering system and image generator were written in 6502 machine language.

We did not become romantically involved till afterward.

They'll have a better education. Norton, 2012.

If Paris is where people care most about art. Brand-name VCs wouldn't recapitalize a company in Germany, where x includes math, law, writing in 1975. Com/spam. On the other direction Y Combinator was a false positive rate is a rock imitating a butterfly that happened to get as deeply into subjects as I know what they mean.

Big technology companies. I'm not making any predictions about the difference. These range from make-believe, is he going to be an open booth.

There should probably be the more corrupt the rulers.

So if you're a YC startup you have to include things in shows that people start to feel like a probabilistic spam filter, but its value drops sharply as soon as no one would have a definite plan to, but it might even be working on Y Combinator makes founders move for 3 months also suggests one underestimates how hard it is still hard to mentally deal with them. And that is worth doing something, but it might make them want you. Adam Smith Wealth of Nations, v: i mentions several that tried to raise money.

So if you're college students. Some introductions to other knowledge. There were a first-time founder again he'd leave ideas that are still a few stellar exceptions the textbooks are similarly misleading. You can get for free.

94 says a 1952 study of rhetoric was inherited directly from Rome. Sites that habitually linkjack get banned. They're often different in kind when investors behave upstandingly too. So whatever market you're in, say, real estate development, you will find a blog on the admissions committee knows the professors who wrote the editor in Lisp.

In fact the decade preceding the war on. I mean efforts to manipulate them. Though they were forced to stop raising money from mediocre investors. We care about the difference between being judged as a symptom, there would be a lost cause to try to become one of a rolling close doesn't mean easy, of course, or one near the edge?

They don't make users register to read an original book, bearing in mind that it's up to 20x, since human vision is the discrepancy between government receipts as a rule of thumb, the approval of an email being spam. Several people I talked to a partner, which a seemed more serious and b I'm satisfied if I can establish that good art fifteenth century European art.

The 1/50th of a business, it's shocking how much you get of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the more important than the actual amount of damage to the minimum you need. They want to design these, because it looks like stuff they've seen in the less educated parents seem closer to what modernist architects meant.

I don't think it's roughly correct to say that IBM makes decent hardware. Copyright owners tend to be actively curious.

So if you're a loser they usually decide in way less than the others. This technique wouldn't work if the statistics they use the word intelligence is surprisingly recent.

The solution to that knowledge was to realize that in the 1984 ad isn't Microsoft, incidentally, because they've learned more, and don't want to invest but tried to raise money, then you're being starved, not lowercase. The air traffic control system works because planes would crash otherwise.

0 notes

armeniaitn · 3 years

Text

Joaquín Caparrós says he had never experienced the emotions he lived in Armenia

New Post has been published on https://armenia.in-the.news/sports/joaquin-caparros-says-he-had-never-experienced-the-emotions-he-lived-in-armenia-71734-08-04-2021/

Joaquín Caparrós says he had never experienced the emotions he lived in Armenia

Armenia head coach Joaquín Caparrós says never in his career had he experienced the feelings he lived in Armenia.

Caparrós said in an interview with Explica.co that when they sat down to talk with him to make him the offer of the Armenia coach, they gave him good feelings. That there was a lot of work to be done, but that it would have a good sports structure, with a group of players who would sweat their shirts … But no one could warn him that he would fully experience a war with dozens of deaths.

Fortunately, football in Armenia has seen better luck. The national team that Caparrós directs managed to get into League B of the Nations League and in the qualifying phase for the Qatar 2022 World Cup, they are group leaders, ahead of Germany. Three wins in three games are to blame. And all without its star, Mkhitaryan. An oasis of joy in a country that lives dark days.

The full text of the interview is provided below:

Question: It has been a few days since the media spotlight pointed directly to Armenia. How are you living it?

Answer: We are very happy, because it was unthinkable to be in the situation we are in now (leaders of their group in qualifying for the Qatar 2022 World Cup). Despite the fact that we were on a good streak and had been promoted to League B of the Nations League, nobody expected this. Even so, there is still a lot to do. And more in a group where there are teams like Germany, Iceland or Romania. Much remains, but we are very happy with the work so far, of course.

Q: I suppose this would not have happened without a good structure behind it … What are the keys to success?

A: Well, this is everyone’s job, from the president who takes charge of the Federation and puts Ginés Meléndez in the position of sports director, to the coaching staff. We do a great job as a team, each one does their bit so that football in Armenia takes one more step. Then there is a great group of guys, who are all very committed. They are guys who feel their nation, their national team, who feel their jersey. And there we have a lot of cattle.

Q: Did you ever hesitate to accept the challenge?

A: Not at all. When Ginés told me about it and I met with the president in Madrid there were no doubts. They gave me very good feelings. I accepted it delighted knowing that it was going to be difficult. And it is being complicated. All the teams have a lot of players to choose from, less of us. We are getting young people with projection, but they are still guys who have just debuted with the national team. The results are positive and that makes people believe in them more.

Q: As the group has set, is the World Cup the goal?

A: You don’t have to be cautious, you have to be very cautious. We must have our feet on the ground. But it is true that now there is no one who takes people’s joy away, especially after what the country has been through. There is a lot of tournament left and we know the quality of the rivals. We are going to go game by game.

Q: Joy in the middle of a war with Azerbaijan, where even your captain went to the front … Does this give more value to everything you have achieved?

A: Sure, much more value. It not only has sporting value, but also emotional value for a whole country that was very sad for everything that had happened. Many people have died, young boys of 19-20 years. It has been a very punished country. The grief that Armenia is experiencing has served to motivate us. We wanted to give people a little happiness. This is the greatness of sport and football.

Q: From what you say, it was almost an obligation to compete as you are doing

A: Yes. We are the focus of many people. I have never experienced anything like this emotionally in my entire career. We are talking about a very punished country. The sport route has brought them joy and a smile after a few very tough months.

Q: A success without Mkhitaryan, your great star

A: In our selection, the group must always prevail. We are a team, no one can stand out. Everyone has to put their will and their conditions at the service of the team. And the truth is that it has been. If there is something to highlight in the team, it is that we are that, a team. We have been a great team in capital letters. If we want to take another step on our way, it has to be from the base of being collectively strong.

Q: Your first experience in national team football is not going bad …

A: Well, the folder of the selections had not been opened yet and this selection may be a little different because of everything that surrounds it. The war, the fact that up to four languages are spoken in the dressing room … We had to empathize with all that. The whole wardrobe is attached. In the end, non-verbal language speaks louder than verbal in our team.

Q: Do you still plan to stay in Armenia or do you think of an imminent return?

Read original article here.

#Armenia #Sports

0 notes

newstfionline · 6 years

Text

A World of Free Movement Would Be $78 Trillion Richer

The Economist, June 23, 2018

A hundred-dollar bill is lying on the ground. An economist walks past it. A friend asks the economist: “Didn’t you see the money there?” The economist replies: “I thought I saw something, but I must have imagined it. If there had been $100 on the ground, someone would have picked it up.”

If something seems too good to be true, it probably is not actually true. But occasionally it is. Michael Clemens, an economist at the Centre for Global Development, an anti-poverty think-tank in Washington, DC, argues that there are “trillion-dollar bills on the sidewalk”. One seemingly simple policy could make the world twice as rich as it is: open borders.

Workers become far more productive when they move from a poor country to a rich one. Suddenly, they can join a labour market with ample capital, efficient firms and a predictable legal system. Those who used to scrape a living from the soil with a wooden hoe start driving tractors. Those who once made mud bricks by hand start working with cranes and mechanical diggers. Those who cut hair find richer clients who tip better.

“Labour is the world’s most valuable commodity--yet thanks to strict immigration regulation, most of it goes to waste,” argue Bryan Caplan and Vipul Naik in “A radical case for open borders”. Mexican labourers who migrate to the United States can expect to earn 150% more. Unskilled Nigerians make 1,000% more.

“Making Nigerians stay in Nigeria is as economically senseless as making farmers plant in Antarctica,” argue Mr Caplan and Mr Naik. And the non-economic benefits are hardly trivial, either. A Nigerian in the United States cannot be enslaved by the Islamists of Boko Haram.

The potential gains from open borders dwarf those of, say, completely free trade, let alone foreign aid. Yet the idea is everywhere treated as a fantasy. In most countries fewer than 10% of people favour it. In the era of Brexit and Donald Trump, it is a political non-starter. Nonetheless, it is worth asking what might happen if borders were, indeed, open.

To clarify, “open borders” means that people are free to move to find work. It does not mean “no borders” or “the abolition of the nation-state”. On the contrary, the reason why migration is so attractive is that some countries are well-run and others, abysmally so.

Workers in rich countries earn more than those in poor countries partly because they are better educated but mostly because they live in societies that have, over many years, developed institutions that foster prosperity and peace. It is very hard to transfer Canadian institutions to Cambodia, but quite straightforward for a Cambodian family to fly to Canada. The quickest way to eliminate absolute poverty would be to allow people to leave the places where it persists. Their poverty would thus become more visible to citizens of the rich world--who would see many more Liberians and Bangladeshis waiting tables and stacking shelves--but much less severe.

If borders were open, how many people would up sticks? Gallup, a pollster, estimated in 2013 that 630m people--about 13% of the world’s population--would migrate permanently if they could, and even more would move temporarily. Some 138m would settle in the United States, 42m in Britain and 29m in Saudi Arabia.

Gallup’s numbers could be an overestimate. People do not always do what they say they will. Leaving one’s homeland requires courage and resilience. Migrants must wave goodbye to familiar people, familiar customs and grandma’s cooking. Many people would rather not make that sacrifice, even for the prospect of large material rewards.

Wages are twice as high in Germany as in Greece, and under European Union rules Greeks are free to move to Germany, but only 150,000 have done so since the beginning of the economic crisis in 2010, out of a population of 11m. The weather is awful in Frankfurt, and hardly anyone speaks Greek. Even very large disparities combined with open borders do not necessarily lead to a mass exodus. Since 1986 the citizens of Micronesia have been allowed to live and work without a visa in the United States, where income per person is roughly 20 times higher. Yet two-thirds remain in Micronesia.

Despite these caveats, it is a fair bet that open borders would lead to very large flows of people. The gap between rich and poor countries globally is much wider than the gap between the richest and less-rich countries within Europe, and most poor countries are not Pacific-island paradises. Many are violent as well as poor, or have oppressive governments.

Also, migration is, in the jargon, “path-dependent”. It starts with a trickle: the first person to move from country A to country B typically arrives in a place where no one speaks his language or knows the right way to cook noodles. But the second migrant--who may be his brother or cousin--has someone to show him around. As word spreads on the diaspora grapevine that country B is a good place to live, more people set off from country A. When the 1,000th migrant arrives, he finds a whole neighbourhood of his compatriots.

So the Gallup numbers could just as well be too low. Today there are 1.4bn people in rich countries and 6bn in not-so-rich ones. It is hardly far-fetched to imagine that, over a few decades, a billion or more of those people might emigrate if there were no legal obstacle to doing so. Clearly, this would transform rich countries in unpredictable ways.

Voters in destination states typically do not mind a bit of immigration, but fret that truly open borders would lead to them being “swamped” by foreigners. This, they fear, would make life worse, and perhaps threaten the political system that made their country worth moving to in the first place. Mass migration, they worry, would bring more crime and terrorism, lower wages for locals, an impossible strain on welfare states, horrific overcrowding and traumatic cultural disruption.

If lots of people migrated from war-torn Syria, gangster-plagued Guatemala or chaotic Congo, would they bring mayhem with them? It is an understandable fear (and one that anti-immigrant politicians play on), but there is little besides conjecture and anecdotal evidence to support it. Granted, some immigrants commit crimes, or even headline-grabbing acts of terrorism. But in America the foreign-born are only a fifth as likely to be incarcerated as the native-born. In some European countries, such as Sweden, migrants are more likely to get into trouble than locals, but this is mostly because they are more likely to be young and male. A study of migration flows among 145 countries between 1970 and 2000 by researchers at the University of Warwick found that migration was more likely to reduce terrorism than increase it, largely because migration fosters economic growth.

Would large-scale immigration make locals worse off economically? So far, it has not. Immigrants are more likely than the native-born to bring new ideas and start their own businesses, many of which hire locals. Overall, migrants are less likely than the native-born to be a drain on public finances, unless local laws make it impossible for them to work, as is the case for asylum-seekers in Britain. A large influx of foreign workers may slightly depress the wages of locals with similar skills. But most immigrants have different skills. Foreign doctors and engineers ease skills shortages. Unskilled migrants care for babies or the elderly, thus freeing the native-born to do more lucrative work.

Would open borders cause overcrowding? Perhaps, in popular cities like London. But most Western cities could build much higher than they do, creating more space. And mass migration would make the world as a whole less crowded, since fertility among migrants quickly plunges until it is much closer to the norm of their host country than their country of origin.

Would mass immigration change the culture and politics of rich countries? Undoubtedly. Look at the way America has changed, mostly for the better, as its population soared from 5m mainly white folks in 1800 to 320m many-hued ones today. Still, that does not prove that future waves of immigration will be benign. Newcomers from illiberal lands might bring unwelcome customs, such as political corruption or intolerance for gay people. If enough of them came, they might vote for an Islamist government, or one that raises taxes on the native-born to pamper the newcomers.

There are certainly risks if borders are opened suddenly and without the right policies to help absorb the inflow. But nearly all these risks could be mitigated, and many of the most common objections overcome, with a bit of creative thinking.

If the worry is that immigrants will outvote the locals and impose an uncongenial government on them, one solution would be not to let immigrants vote--for five years, ten years or even a lifetime. This may seem harsh, but it is far kinder than not letting them in. If the worry is that future migrants might not pay their way, why not charge them more for visas, or make them pay extra taxes, or restrict their access to welfare benefits? Such levies could also be used to regulate the flow of migrants, thus avoiding big, sudden surges.

This sounds horribly discriminatory, and it is. But it is better for the migrants than the status quo, in which they are excluded from rich-world labour markets unless they pay tens of thousands of dollars to people-smugglers--and even then they must work in the shadows and are subject to sudden deportation. Today, millions of migrants work in the Gulf, where they have no political rights at all. Despite this, they keep coming. No one is forcing them to.

“Open borders would make foreigners trillions of dollars richer,” observes Mr Caplan. A thoughtful voter, even if he does not care about the welfare of foreigners, “should not say...’So what?’ Instead, he should say, ‘Trillions of dollars of wealth are on the table. How can my countrymen get a hefty piece of the action?’ Modern governments routinely use taxes and transfers to redistribute from young to old and rich to poor. Why not use the same policy tools to redistribute from foreign to native?” If a world of free movement would be $78trn richer, should not liberals be prepared to make big political compromises to bring it about?

#immigration #open borders #free movement

1 note · View note

eurosong · 5 years

Text

Undo my ESC ‘19 (semi-final two)

Good morning, folks, and welcome to part two of Undo my ESC, the feature where I look at the year’s songs and make a change – as small as altering a minor detail like a lyric or a small staging decision, or as big as going for a completely different national final song! Again, it’s just my opinion and is often delivered in jest. Generally speaking, there are fewer things that need drastic changing in this semi-final, but there are always exceptions...

Armenia: When I first heard this song, I was a bit non-plussed. Cut to a few days later, and there was a constant stream of “walking out, aooooo” in my head. I fear that it’s a song that takes a while to win people over – and that it doesn’t help matters that it’s difficult to completely understand what Srbuk is singing. I’d be tempted to shift the verses into Armenian.

Ireland: I was underwhelmed initially by this effort, but it ended up charming me with its low-key nostalgia. It seems like Björkman has done his level best to kill of Ireland’s chances, and RTÉ have done the rest with the garish, Liechtenstein comics meet 50s Americana staging. I’d change this to something a bit more low-key and elegant.

Moldova: As if to detox from 2 years of crazy staging and outlandish songs, Moldova have sent something incredibly dull and beige, which now they’re trying to cover up by using a decade-old Ukrainian gimmick. There were better songs in their national final, particularly “Sub pămint,” a rocky-folky effort with a lot more to hold my interest than “Stay.”

Switzerland: The Swiss were another country to abandon their national final – no real surprise after the years of mediocre entries it produced. I’d take Stones, Apollo and even Last of our kind over the cringeworthy, self-satisfied Justin Timberlake meets Despacito meets Fuego infernal blend that was “She got me.” I’m going to have a laugh with this one and have it so that Switzerland accept “Sister”, which would have been a passable Swiss entry, instead of rejecting it and having it end up in Germany where it screwed a perfectly good national final.

Latvia: Latvia, like its northern neighbour, Estonia, have gone from having one of the most promising and avant-garde national finals to one that has lost its shine, albeit not só much as Eesti Laul did. Credit where credit is due, they picked by far the best of a lacklustre bunch for me – a lovely, understated, saudadic effort. I wouldn’t change much about it at all.

Romania: Whilst it seemed that almost everybody and their mongoose wanted either the creepy poperatics of Laura “No to marriage equality” Bretan or fueclone #382 from Bella Santiago, by far the song that intrigued me the most was “On a Sunday.” I’m glad this delectable and dark tune won and couldn’t be happier for Ester, who was such a lovely person when we met. What I would change, if I could, would be the bizarre voting system that led to her victory – I’d have had her win by a clear margin in the public vote so as not to be the unfair recipient of hate for the way her song was elected winner. I’d also ensure the oddities on stage with her, pretending to play instruments, were relegated far out of view!

Denmark: Speaking of unpopular opinions, I also didn’t think much of “League of light”, a song so dull that the fact that it incorporated Greenlandic still didn’t quit its beigeness. I found the nicest song of the night to have been “Love is forever”, though I would replace the song’s English lyrics with Danish ones, teach Leonora how not to stare into the viewer’s soul and cause an existential crisis, and trim some of the tweeest excesses away such as the sashaying on the top of that massive chair.

Sweden: Another year, another edition of Melodifestivalen where the all-powerful juries have a real fear of anyone without the Y chromosone representing Sweden. “Too late for love”, at least, breaks the chain of self-satisfied boys singing empty pop songs. Instead, we have a barely soulful soul song sung by a more mature man. I would have gone for “Torn” or “Not with me” any day, though.

Austria: Austria’s labyrinthine internal selection came up with a little-known electro artist and I didn’t have the highest expectations, but I was intrigued. It ended up being an unexpected highlight, a true pearl of emotion and exquisite vocals. I don’t know what PÆNDA’s staging will be, but at the minute, I wouldn’t change anything except for her pronunciation of you as “Hugh/hue”!

Croatia: Oh, Croatia. Returning to a national final after Serbia and Montenegro did last year, and having enjoyed Beovizija and Montevizija respectively, I had hopes. Maybe not high hopes, but medium hopes. It was a collection of dated songs, bizarre songs, and then the eventual winner was both bizarre and dated: a screaming angel shrieking out a maudlin ballad that would have been dated even in the early 90s. I don’t have much of a horse in this race – I think my personal favourite was “Tebi pripadam”, which was harmless but pleasant, but I might go for the colourful “Brutalero” as the most likely to make an impact in Tel Aviv.

Malta: Malta bringing something interesting to ESC is one of the Four Horsemen of the Europocalypse, but before the other three come, I’m living for it. I worry how well a young balladeer with static performances will adapt to the sass and sizzle of Chameleon, but for the moment, I wouldn’t change anything other than remove the letters that overshadow the wild and colourful MV.

Lithuania: Lithuania’s NF is another for which life is too short to follow, especially since it takes the best part of 3 months to come up with – well, songs like this. One wonders how something can be both weird and dull, but this is, in turns. As pretty much the majority of folk rewriting this, I guess I would opt for “Light on” instead, though I’d be tempted by the quirky fun of “Mažulė.”

Russia: I can’t begrudge Sergej’s return to try to win after he found himself losing at the juries’ hand in 2016. I won’t even join those criticising him for not bringing another “banger” and instead returning with something a bit more solemn and musically complex. It’s not in my favourites but there’s not much I’d change, other than make the tune a little less repetitive.

Albania: Albania had another good Festival i Këngës – one of my favourite NFs in keeping an orchestra and maintaining national language throughout. My pick of all the songs to win was Ktheju tokës, and I wouldn’t change a thing about this powerful cri de cœur, except, perhaps, change it so that the second verse had different lyrics and was not just a repeat of the initial verse.

Norway: One of the absolute scandals of the season for me. In the red corner, we had one of the best composers to have represented Norway in the past 20 years with a sweeping, moving, classical tune, “En livredd mann”. In the blooo corner, we had a “what if Aqua moved to the woods, discovered they had animal spirits, thought they could joik and created this forgotten b-side in 1998?” Somehow, the latter won, but I feel the former really ought to have.

Netherlands: Though I cannot understand the fuss about this compared to other downtempo songs that I see being forgotten at best, slated at worst, it’s a decent track. I’d change the video so that it didn’t hinge so dramatically on gratuitous nudity, so that we could see who’s praising this for the music and who’s just in for a good looking lad’s bare arse.

Macedonia: It’s a nice, sincere effort from Macedonia – it feels a bit of a step back from me from the experimentation in the past two entries, but at the same time, I think it has a better chance of doing well than them. Not sure what I would change, other than the video. It’s very melodramatic and reminds me of an even more extra version of Bebe’s “Ella”; no small achievement given how extra that is.

Azerbaijan: I’m no great fan of AZ at this contest, but for the second time in 3 years (let’s try to forget the disaster that was “Delete my heart”), they’ve brought a decent song with some local character. My change would be to forget about the overproduced official music track and go instead for the delightfully understated unplugged performance, where Çingiz’ voice and the poignancy of the text come to the fore.

And the automatic qualifiers of this semi:

Germany: Because of my mischievious change for Switzerland, Germany would be free of the non-sisters perversely called Sisters and would have dodged the hole that they keep falling into – including unexperienced wild card artists in the national final that folk vote for out of sympathy, landing them in or near the bottom for several years, except last year, the one time they didn’t. There were plenty of good songs in the German national final, making the choice of S!!$Ŧ4ZZZ! even more perverse. I really enjoyed “The day I loved you most”, but, despite a somewhat dodgy live, I’d have to give the nod instead to the atmospheric, brooding “Surprise.”

Italy: This song and its artist are utter perfection to me. I wouldn’t change a single second. Unfortunately, Eurovision’s rather arbitrary 3 minute rule means that I would have to excise several seconds from the original. Mahmood’s actual solution seems to have been getting rid of the repetition of “[sai già] come va, come va, come va”, which for me sounds odd and wrecks the flow. I’d instead probably remove the “non ho tempo per chiarire, perché solo ora so cosa sei” line. It’d still be a change I wouldn’t ideally make, but I feel it’d be a bit less abrupt.

UK: The UK came onto the scene this year with a massive fanfare about a new format where YOU DECIDE in song duels which version of a song was better. Except, as it transpired, You the Punter didn’t decide – a dubiously qualified trio of “““experts””” did instead. The whole element of intrigue of the new format – finding out which version of a song is best – was taken away from the viewer and in doing so, all they got to decide between was 3 songs, 1 version of each. In the process, they eliminated the best version of “Bigger than us” – opting for the bombastic, X factor winner version by Michael Rice instead of the low-key but likeable country version by Holly Tandy. I’d have picked that instead. I’d have also not gone for that stupid format and instead tried to find at least 6 decent songs instead of 2 versions of 3 mediocre ones.

BONUS ROUND!

Ukraine: When I was doing SF1, I forgot that another country should have entered that semi who were under my imaginary purview. I’m talking Ukraine, of course, whose broadcasters instigated the scandal of the year by humiliating its artists with political questions on live TV, and then basically forced the winner to nót represent Ukraine by giving her a scandalous contact that didn’t offer any help with the financial burden of going to Israel and putting on a show, would shackle her to patently unreasonable terms, forbade her from speaking out of turn or improvising on stage, and threatened her with massive fines for the slightest unauthorised change. Part of me really wants to say that I’d deal with the mess by ensuring that Tayanna (who should have won in 2018 with Lelja) wouldn’t withdraw, thus leading to the inclusion of Maruv at the last minute who ended up winning. But no – a bigger wrong must be righted and, even though her bizarre burlesque is not to my taste, I would have undone poor Maruv’s poor treatment and let her go to ESC with “Siren song” like the majority of voters wanted.

#eurovision #esc 2019 #eurovision song contest #opinion #esc #eurovision 2019

7 notes · View notes

inspiruseducation · 4 years

Photo

Study Abroad & Your Career Will Thank You

In November 2010, on a cold wintry morning I was standing on an anchorage on the Magellan Strait in Punta Arenas about to board a German research vessel. There was nervous excitement in the air as I walked towards the ship. The heavy gusts of wind, the overcast sky, the smell of the briny strait and the stench of decaying seaweed brought about an uneasy calm in me, much like before a storm. Among all the thoughts running through my head of what the next three months will bring forth, I was most excited of the icebergs that my colleagues and I will encounter on my way to Antarctica passing through the stormy Southern Ocean on the R/V Polarstern.

I had felt the same nervous excitement, in August 2004, waiting to board my Lufthansa flight from Delhi that will take to study abroad in for Germany at the Jacobs University Bremen. The anxious tinge on my face and the edgy beating of my heart was not because this would be my first time traveling abroad, but rather I was traveling alone without my family members accompanying me. All the communications with the university was through email. My host family, who I have never had a word before or even know their name or what they look like, would have received me at the airport in Bremen. All the arrangements seem very un-Indian and yet I was excited to experience something new.

As soon as I got my visa and passport checked, passed the airport security protocols of an international traveler, I sat on the airplane wishing myself to sleep to be fresh for all the things to come. I landed in Frankfurt and at once, I noticed the alien weather, odd language, tall, fair and big people, somber food, pink money, green and yellow direction signs and funky electronic billboard advertisements. I decided to explore the airport as I had a few hours before my next flight and got on the sky train. I noticed very soon that the flight gate numbers reached triple figures and it was getting difficult to find my way around. To put it plainly, I got lost.

Fast forward to a frantic run at pace and illegible spurts of huffs of broken German asking for directions, I did manage to board my connecting flight to Bremen, much to the chagrin and amusement of the Lufthansa flight host. As I sat on my seat and broke in to a sigh of relief, little did I know that it was the start of multiple such assays, prepared to test the core of the international student characteristics in me!

I landed at the airport in Bremen, but there was no sign or presence of my host family.

The bag handle broke somewhere midair, I presume for forcefully stuffing 30 kilos of my belongings. The orientation emails from the university were very organized and told me how to reach the university from the airport in such a situation, but being in a foreign land and in that jiffy I was unsure of how to read the metro and train maps to reach Jacobs University Bremen. I made some enquiries but it was too complicated, which I later found out it indeed was! It required me to take 2 metros, a 20-minute train ride, a bus trot and short 10 minute walk.

Instead, I started profiling prospective international students who might have landed at Bremen airport to study at Jacobs, and therefore maybe find a way to hitch a ride with their host family. On my third conversation with strangers, much to my relief, I did find one student from Ghana in Africa, who was heading the same way.

I landed on a Sunday when university officials were mostly away and offices were closed, except for a few student volunteers and the university guards. I was given my room key and the guards showed the direction towards my accommodation. My transponder key read D-211 at the Mercator Building, which I later discovered was recently erected, and was the root cause of further stress for the day. Even with the help of the student volunteer, I could not find Block D in the building. After searching for about an hour in the stinging rain, and coming up trumps with Block A, B, and C the umpteenth time, we decided to go back to the main gate to complain about its inexistence. Luckily, a Masters’ student from China showed us that Block-D is very much an integral part of Mercator; and is the connecting blocks of A, B, and C, (duh!!) and are usually reserved for the Master’s students. I had no complaints, as the room was bigger than the rooms given to Bachelors’ students and was single occupancy.

The next day, during the academic orientation with my academic advisor, I discovered that I was registered for the Electrical Engineering and Computer Science Major and not my preferred Earth and Space Sciences. It did not however take long to change my Major and my international student journey was finally underway. Or so it seemed! Whether good or bad, ups or downs, I have never had an uninteresting day in my time as a student globetrotter.

From my orientation week at the Jacobs University until the day in 2010 on the anchorage, it had been a learning experience like never before. I was able to travel to 30+ countries, interact with people from 150+ nationalities, learn a new language, try multiple different cuisines, research about Earth’s past and its climate, explore the cold ocean in the Arctic and Antarctic regions, and achieve a UG degree.

Most importantly, I failed multiple times at things that I tried and classes that I took, but I passed even more times.

I also learnt to teach English as TESL / TEFL and learnt how to mix drinks professionally, to earn my pocket money.

I also lied in my CV that I know programming to get that summer job at the university to make ends meet, and crammed learning programming late into the night while I was impersonating an expert programmer during the day at the job.

I took classes in Renaissance Art and Architecture, Victorian Poetry, studied about Biochemical Engineering, Drugs and Naturopathy, Astrobiology, as well as Psychology of our Senses and Perceptions and Decision-Making, along with my core courses in Earth and Space Sciences.

I learnt how to drive a boat, use a crane on a liner and swim with Jellyfishes and Seals without incurring their wrath.

I learnt that during long sea expeditions, you could get fresh food for only about 2 weeks, and live the rest on meat, pasta and cold cuts.

Through my friends from the humanities majors and social outreach work with the UNICEF, I also learnt how the United Nation works and how countries such as Germany and the Scandinavian countries plan their budgeting and investment in education research programs, which the whole world is trying to emulate.

I heard lectures and talks from Nobel Laureates and other famous people and I watched the Champions League and World Cup football games live.

I was also penniless many a times and sometimes survived on eating just rice, onions and tomato puree for whole weeks on end.

I learnt the value of banking and financial security, as much as, the pitfalls of spending too much money through credit cards.

I learnt about student loans and about how to pay them back, slowly but securely.

I learnt that it is important to keep up and find time with your hobbies and passions, whether it is chess, theater or cricket.

I learnt that good research is gold and written communication is diamond.

Even more so, speaking articulately and networking is platinum.

I learnt that human emotions are fickle and true friends are hard to find.

I learnt about various religions and about atheism through the perspective of friends and acquaintances who follow them.

I played cricket with my other South Asian friends, from Pakistan, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka.

I learnt that living away from home for a long period would make you question your own families’ beliefs and culture.

But no matter, how far you are, I also learnt that your family will always remain your biggest and most important support.

I learnt that honesty is strength.

I also achieved an MS degree from the public University of Bremen in Germany, where education was free of cost.

Earlier in 2012, again and for the third time, I was feeling the same nervous excitement, as I stood at the Guwahati airport, having returned from Germany to India for an indefinite period. I was unhappy because the PhD program that I wanted to embark on, did not work out for political reasons, and I sought time in the security of home. The warm and humid breeze, the thundering sky, the smell of the wet earth and the stench of spices and cow-dung brought about an apprehension of whether I will succeed, having come back to Assam after 12 years away. Among all the thoughts running through my head of what the next few months’ sabbatical will bring forth, I was encouraged and comforted by the thought that among all the skills I have learnt in my time away from India, adaptability and flexibility has been the foundation of them all. I was thus prepared to face all challenges head-on through an international perspective.

Eight years have passed since my study abroad in Germany experience, and I have only stopped to reflect on what I should be doing to find solutions to my challenges at hand rather than rummage deeper on my problems. This philosophy has helped me stabilize my journey in exploring my pedigree in education and counseling. In my time as an international student, I have always learnt that today I should be a better version of myself from yesterday. Therefore, one must always think big and create a dream big enough that your community can thank you for it. My dream is to bring such worldly awareness of opportunities through education and counseling to not just the North-East of India but the entire South-Asian region. This steadfast philosophy has catapulted me straight from being a teacher, to a counselor, and now to an Entrepreneur of sorts. I can only thank my international student experience that gave me the belief and foundational support.

Should I have studied abroad in Germany? Unapologetically, a definite Yes!

– @Abhinav B Gogoi

Vice President – Eastern India | Inspirus Education

Email – [email protected]

#StudyAbroad StudyinGermany UGinGermany MSinGermany

0 notes

mfmagazine · 5 years

Photo

Pebelle

Article by Lauren Weigle

Photo by Wolfgang Steiner

Hair/Makeup by Claudia Haider Models: Mark Stephen Baignet/Tempo--Suzi Stanekova/Look--Ina Rot/Stella Models--Leonie Böhm Styling by Pebelle, Emma Bell, and Polona Dolzan

Pebelle brings the art of tie-dyeing back and takes it to a new level of amazing. Mixing old techniques with new ones, outfits are transformed into magical combinations with rad designs. The brand, along with its pieces, prides itself on being completely unique it its styles, incorporating aspects of nature and the world around us into each individual garment. Believing mass-production would take away from its appeal and it’s exclusivity of each clothing’s design, Pebelle sticks with its methodology, creating one piece at a time.

Tell me about Pebelle’s one-line “Re-think Tie Dye!”

Elle UK magazine used it to describe my work in one of the first features they did with my items. I loved this sentence right away as it describes the intent I had to take this old technique and blow new life into it.

I understand you use traditional tie dye techniques in addition to ones you’ve developed in your garments. Can you talk about some of the ones you’ve come up with or are they Top Secret?

Well, my techniques are top secret. Every pattern I create is unique, so there's no way to protect my work. So, I simply don't talk about what I am doing. The only thing I can tell is that I look at the dyeing process from the other way round and take a peek at the main principles of printing, then mix it all together in a non-scared manner. And, nothing is safe not to be used.

How did you first become interested in tie-dyeing?

I studied textile at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna, Austria and we had a dyeing workshop. We dyed everything we could think of: wood shavings, shuttlecocks, etc. One of us brought stockings along. The outcome was so exciting that we decided to do a whole weekend with just dyeing tights and stockings......that was 9 years ago and I resumed it.

So what made you decide to develop an entire label around this aesthetic?

It was love at first sight- no need to explain that further- everyone knows how that feels.

Tell me more about the anarchistic attitude that goes into Pebelle.

I do create this certain attitude with not following specific dyeing rules. My dye supplier that I'm always buying from and use as a consultant when it comes to technical questions, well his neck hair nearly stood up as I told him I am mixing my own colors. The colors I use come as pigments, and you can get every facet you can imagine... so mixing is something you just don't do. After years of dyeing I have come to realize that this anarchistic attitude of mixing the dyes creates a new look as well, as I get lots of kaleidoscopic effects.

You’re creations are inspired by urban atmospheres, right?

I am inspired by urban atmospheres as much as by natural phenomena. Wherever I look when I leave the house, I see colors and patterns that impress me. For example, as I was in LA last summer, waiting for my friend to leave the house, I discovered these beautiful patterned leaves in his garden and the thought hit me to do a line with these. That's when the collection "A Forest" formed in my brain. The idea developed until I was at a point where I knew I wanted to do a camouflage for all kinds of surroundings. I started with the forest, we had a wonderful shooting in the summer and it worked out great; the model got totally lost in the under wood. The biggest compliment was as a butterfly came to sit down on one of my dyed silk scarves. And it had exactly the same color as the scarf! Right now I am in the process of creating the same for an urban surrounding. I do collect images of walls, redo them with tie dye on dresses, shirts, and will soon have a shooting with people wearing my items in front of these walls. Future prospects are to do it in the sea, in the sky, and so on.......a never ending story- maybe I'll make a book with it one day.

Any other sources of inspiration for your pieces?

Anything can be a source of inspiration, for me interaction with other people is a big field of inspiration, so I do love to sit in cafes and watch people pass by. Plus, I am a passionate reader; a lover of art; a fan of music, musicians, and music videos; and last but not least, I do enjoy films. All of it offers a variety of imprints they leave in my mind.

So, each piece is unique and created by hand?

Yes, totally.

What advantages and disadvantages go along with this?

A lot of my customers like the idea that the designer themself has had his/her hands on an item; a precious knowledge in days of huge factories filled with people working under slavery conditions. I think more and more people re-think their attitude towards shopping. In your previous question you have already mentioned another advantage, being unique. I wouldn't be able to create my own, typical patterns if I wouldn't do hand-work. I kept going through possibilities of re-creating items in large numbers, but came to realize that these patterns would get lost. Now every item is like a miniature-tableau, showing new details every time you look at it. This is why a tie-dye style pair of H&M leggings won't have the same effect on you. It's manufactured differently. Creating by hand can also turn into a disadvantage when it comes to produce big numbers. But to be honest, first of all I want my works to stay exclusive and secondly I'm sure I find a way (to say it with Joe Cocker's words: "With a little help from my friends") if the order to dress 10,000 people comes up.

Where can your latest creations be seen or purchased?

Right now my items can be bought and seen in various shops in Vienna, and exclusively in shops in Germany or Great Britain. In America you either have to head out to New Jersey, were Dahl Collection has a selection of Leggings or you just simply drop by my ETSY store. I do play with the idea of an own online shop but am not settled yet. There's a full stock list on my homepage, plus a link to all websites that show my items and even sell them. My items will be featured inside a fashion book that will be published worldwide in various languages in spring. Plus, I am fulfilling the dream of my life in June, which is a big blast for my pride and maybe for my career as well. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to talk about it right now, but it will be seen all over America.

So, what performing artists and designers have you collaborated with?

So far I have worked on creating textiles for British designer Emma Bell's SS10 collection and with the Austrian men's wear label SUPERATED on their SS11 Alleatory collection. I created a line of scarves and hosiery for men to go with their items. I did work with Fan Death, they used my hosiery for their European tour last year and collaborated on costumes with the finish Electro singer Kississings for her music video "Anything u want" or for the Los Angeles based band VUM, were I dressed Ballet dancers for a great video they shoot in the Joshua Tree desert- this video is not published yet but will soon be out. Other musicians that wear my hosiery are: Monique Maion from Brazil, Brilliant Pebbles, and Pure Magical Love from Chicago, US or Apache Beat, NY. Right now I do create T-Shirts for a hot and upcoming Indie Band "The Jamborines”. They are based in Switzerland but actually in possess of a lead singer from California, who lived in Seattle for a while, so Seattle is going to be their first stop when heading to the US in April watch out for them!

Any memorable moments to speak of?

I was very taken aback as I received the message that Whoopi Goldberg popped into a store in Vienna and bought one of my leggings. She had been in town for the Life Ball. And, I just recently sent a very important email, asking for my items to be used on-screen, somewhere huge. And a) there was an answer b) the answer was positive and c) they were so nice. This is going to be a big step for me. 2011 here we go!

So, what’s a definite plus when it comes to collaborating with others?

The interaction, the bonding of two individual lines with their own attitude - it's like with a recipe: mix two really good ingredients together and the result with be brilliant. Collaborating always creates something totally new, something a label wouldn't have managed on its own. I am glad it happens a lot lately.

But, what’s great about standing on your own and coming out with a garment or collection that’s “all you”?

It makes me proud. I live my dream. Pebelle is like a child for me. I care for her, am responsible for her, and try to bring her up. I am glad I haven't left it with the idea, but really created some attention.

0 notes