#London Literature Festival

[olympain]

Nick Frost & Simon Pegg: A Slice of Fried Gold

Actor and writer Nick Frost launches A Slice of Fried Gold, a hilarious and noshable memoir with recipes. He’s joined by Simon Pegg, his best friend and part-time lover. This event is part of London Literature Festival and was held at Southbank Royal Festival Hall on 22nd October 2023.

A real slice of fried gold! So nice to chat to Nick Frost and Simon Pegg for the first time since Shaun of the Dead and for them to treat me to one of their spectacular looking in different directions photos. (Apparently if you are on Cluck they are looking straight at you!)

Had such an amazing time @southbankcentre with @friedgold and @simonpegg in conversation. Equal parts hilarious, fascinating and heart-warming. Honestly could have listened to these two for hours! This book is now officially the first ‘cookbook’ I’ve ever been dying to read… Big thanks to @hannahc_01 for securing the seats!

Was an absolute joy to have the opportunity to take my Partner to see the one and only NICK FROST, along with lifelong friend and fellow actor SIMON PEGG, to promote Frost's new memoir cook book A SLICE OF FRIED GOLD. From start to finish, watching these two legends chinwagging about old times and all their memories of living and working together was just incredible as a life-long fan of both of their work. The high points for me were all the anecdotes about their ceiling collapsing whilst they were getting high, and how Simon met his wife at an airport, after his and Nick's flight got delayed. Was nearly in tears every time Nick's mother got brought up. Truly was a special treat to see these two tonight. Now how's that for a piece of fried gold!?! YEAH BOIII!!

This is how you spend a Sunday evening! Love the @southbankcentre literature festival - love Nick Frost & Simon Pegg.

Had a lovely evening listening to Nick Frost and @simonpegg 🖤 Would love to know what percentage of Nicks Book is written about them being high 😂

Very funny evening of food and cooking chat (and definitely not anything SAG-related) tonight with Nick Frost discussing his new book 'A Slice of Fried Gold' with Simon Pegg at the Royal Festival Hall.

Backstage @southbankcentre with Nick Frost and Simon Pegg before their riotous conversation about friendship, food, filmmaking and Nick’s new memoir A Slice of Fried Gold. A hilarious and heart-warming night. Thanks to our amazing audience and all

Greetings Pop Pickers, just got in from seeing @simonpegg interviewing #Nickfrost at the @southbankcentre

Nick Frost and Simon Pegg at the Southbank Centre, London 🤩

#nick frost #simon pegg #a slice of fried gold #london literature festival

[carminamasoliver]

Freelance Reflections #74

I’ve gone from being worried about having no work to being overwhelmed with how to schedule it and having to turn stuff down. Such is freelance life! I’m worried about some of the schedule as I know how tired I get already (I fell asleep at my laptop this week!) but I also know I will be back in a period of uncertainty come December as I’ll lose a lot of students around that time. I’m…

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#Arji Manuelpillai #art therapy #Bethlem Museum of the Mind #carmina masoliver #freelance #freelance creative #freelance reflections #Gurnaik Johal #James Cahill #London Art Therapy Centre #London Literature Festival #poetry #SE London #Sheena Patel #We Move

[doodlerdoodle]

@katharynmann IG stories

#simon pegg #instagram stories #katharyn mann #london literature festival 2023

[literarylondonhq]

Theatre Producing Workshop.

Still 2 places available for tomorrow’s online ‘An Introduction to Creative Producing’ workshop. http://www.TheatreProducerTraining.com

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#@fringe #actors #Arts #creative producer #Edinburgh festival fringe #literature #London fringe #new writing #producer training #theatre #training #Writers

[selbookfest]

#books and reading #books #literature #literary festival #london #reading

[lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers]

So, why do people care so much about Cornish identity? Cornwall’s just a part of England right? Another county with some distinct foods and a funny accent, and they moan about the tourists- when they should be grateful for the money.

Except it’s not.

Whilst the rest of England was forming with a character influenced by Germanic and Norse cultures, Cornwall was holding itself separate as an independent Celtic kingdom, with strong links with Wales, Ireland and Brittany- as well as trading with the wider Mediterranean. For a long time, this kingdom included parts of Devon, but eventually the Celtic people were forced back past the Tamar, and at some point started referring to the land as Kernow, rather than Dumnonia (probably).

Even after the Norman conquest, in part because Cornwall came under the control of the Duke of Brittany, Cornwall retained elements of its unique culture, and certainly its language. There are existing works of literature written in the Cornish language (also called Kernewek) during the medieval period. Due to the active tin mining industry and the Stannary courts, they even had a separate legal system.

All of this continued until the start of the Tudor period, when Henry VII, desperate for money for his wars with Scotland, suspended the operation of the Cornish Stannaries, and imposed greater taxes. This ultimately led to the Cornish Rebellion of 1497. An army of as many as 15000 rebels marched towards Somerset, and ultimately to London, where the rebels met with Henry VII’s armies. Unfortunately, the Cornish lost the ensuing battle, and the rebel leaders were captured, killed and quartered, with their quarters being displayed in Cornwall and Devon. From 1497 to 1508, Cornwall was punished with monetary penalties, impoverishing the people, and land was given to the king’s (English) allies.

However, this wasn’t the death of Cornish culture or dreams of independence from England. Until 1548, Glasney college was still producing literature in Cornish- when it was destroyed in the dissolution of the monasteries, during the English reformation. The following year, 1549, the Cornish rose again- this time to demand a prayer book in their own language, which was still the first (and often only) language of most people in the region. The rebellion was also about the ordinary people vs the landowners, as shown by their slogan “kill all the gentlemen”.

Unfortunately, this rebellion failed too, and this time, it wasn’t just the leaders who were killed, but up to 5,500 Cornishmen- which would have been a significant proportion of the adult male population at the time. These factors combined are widely thought to have contributed to the decline of the Cornish language- although it was still widely in use centuries later.

Despite the failings of these rebellions, the Cornish retained a distinct language and their own culture, folklore and festivals. Mining, farming and fishing meant that the region itself wasn’t economically impoverished, as it was today. Even towards the end of the 1700s, there were still people who spoke Cornish fluently as a first language (including Dolly Pentreath, who definitely wasn’t the last Cornish speaker).

However, over time, the tin mines became less profitable, and Cornwall’s economy started to suffer. Especially in the latter part of the 19th century, many Cornish began to emigrate, especially to places like Australia, New Zealand (or Aotearoa), Canada and South America. Cornish miners were skilled, and were able to send pay back home, and along with the Welsh, influenced culture and sport in many of these places. Many mining terms also have their roots in Cornish language and dialect.

Throughout the 20th Century, Cornwall went through an economic decline- to the point where, when the UK was an EU member, Cornwall was receiving funding intended for only the most deprived regions in Europe. It was one of very few places in the UK to receive this funding- due to the levels of poverty and lack of infrastructure.

Part of the decline was also linked to the decline of historic fish stocks, such as mackerel. In the 70s and 80s, there was a mackerel boom- and large fishing trawlers came from as far away as Scandinavia (as well as Scotland and the north of England) to fish in Cornish waters. The traditional way of fishing in Cornwall used small boats and line fishing. The local fishermen couldn’t compete, and ultimately stocks were decimated by the trawlers. Many more families had to give up their traditional way of life. One could draw parallels here with worldwide indigenous struggles over fishing rights.

Despite this, Cornish communities retained their traditional folklore and festivals, many of which are still celebrated to this day. And throughout the 20th Century, efforts were made to preserve the Cornish language. Although there may not be any first language Cornish speakers left, it is now believed that community knowledge of the language was never truly lost.

Cornwall has since become a popular tourist destination. This brings its own problems- many people want to stay in self-catering accommodation and, more recently, air bnbs. This, alongside second homes, has gutted many Cornish communities. The gap between house prices and average wages is one of the largest in the country. Land has become extremely expensive, which hurts already struggling farmers. Roads can’t cope with the level of traffic. The one (1) major hospital can’t cope with the population in the summer. All of last winter, most Cornish households faced a “hosepipe ban” due to lack of water- yet in the summer, campsites and hotels can fill their swimming pools and hot tubs for the benefit of tourists.

Does this benefit Cornwall? Only about 13% of Cornwall’s GDP comes from tourism. The jobs associated with tourism are often poorly paid and may only offer employment for part of the year. People who stay in Air BnBs may not spend that much money in the community, and the money they pay for accommodation often goes to landlords who live upcountry and aren’t Cornish. Many major hotels and caravan sites are also owned by companies that aren’t Cornish, taking money out of the local economy.

Match this with a housing crisis where it’s increasingly difficult to rent properties long term, and buying a flat or house in Cornwall is out of reach of someone on the average salary and it’s easy to see why people are having to leave communities where their family lived for generations. This damages the local culture, and means centuries-old traditions can come under threat.

All of this feeds into the current situation; it feels like middle class families from London see Cornwall as their playground, and moan about tractors on the road, or the lack of services when they visit. People talk about theme park Cornwall- a place that’s built for entertainment of outsiders, not functionality for those who live here. More widely, a lot of people around the UK have never heard of the Cornish language, or view it as something that’s “extinct” or not worth preserving.

The Cornish are one of Britain’s indigenous cultures, alongside Welsh, Gaelic, Scots, Manx and others. And it’s a culture that’s increasingly under threat economically and culturally. We’ve been clinging on to our homes for a long time, and even now it still feels like we might be forced from them (indeed some of us are). So yes, Cornish people can seem excessively defensive about our identity and our culture- but there’s good reason for it!

#uk politics #cornwall #cornish #kernow #kernewek #celtic languages #minority languages #minority cultures #Cornish history #cornish langblr

[foolishlovers]

hii could i request some of your favoruite human au fics? nothing specific :))

ahhh always!! i have so many!! 💜

Postcards From Paris by ghostrat (12k, G) Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? --- It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

London, Libraries & Love by wolftea (13k, E, WIP) Smiling warmly at the huddles of students, Aziraphale made his way over to Crowley, who was leaning against his desk. Crowley was dressed in layers of all black (as per usual), his red hair was tied back in a loose ponytail (not as usual, he often wore it down) and he was twirling Aziraphale’s fountain pen between his fingers. “Mister Fell.” Crowley drawled, but the warmth in his amber eyes and the upward curve of his mouth betrayed any attempt at appearing nonchalant. Aziraphale found himself grinning. How on Earth had he ever disliked this man? “Crowley.” He said, eyes crinkling as he plucked the pen out of Crowley’s hands and put it back by his notebook.

New Approaches by FeralTuxedo (19k, M) Aziraphale Fell, Professor of Creative Writing at Tadfield University, welcomes the attendees of the First Conference on New Approaches to Genre Fiction. Among them is keynote speaker and best-selling thriller author Anthony J. Crowley. Aziraphale has not seen him for twenty-five years. Sometimes, he can still feel the ghost of their parting kiss on his lips. Or: Exes reunite at academic conference. A Human University Professor/Author AU.

muddle through somehow by curtaincall (27k, T) Aziraphale Fell runs a successful food blog, Celestial Comestibles, where he shares mouthwatering recipes and heartwarming stories about his happy domestic life in a cottage with his husband and son. As promotion for his upcoming cookbook, his publishers run a contest: one lucky winner will get to spend Christmas with Aziraphale and his family. What the publishers don't know is that the real Aziraphale Fell is a single city-dweller. And if he wants to keep up his happily married persona, he'll have to acquire a cottage, husband, and son before Christmas. As it happens, his friend and neighbor Anthony Crowley has his nephew staying with him for the holidays. One fake marriage proposal later, and everything seems tickety-boo--as long as Aziraphale can keep from developing inconveniently real feelings for his pretend husband…

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (41k, M) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (53k, M) Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy. Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is, with his minimum-wage job and a half-baked dream of trading rare books for a living. And as if adopting a recently bereaved pre-teen isn’t enough, there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him. A human AU/kid fic.

Golden Handcuffs by seekwill (70k, E) Far from any city, near the Scottish coast, Tadfield College has a celebrated history, an unrivaled academic reputation, and two departments at war. When the Biology and English departments are forced to share a building, Senior Lecturer and botanist Anthony Crowley finds himself drawn into the orbit of the polite but strange English professor, Dr. Aziraphale Fell. As the new term begins, two academics navigate the politics of both their offices and academia, and try to solve the puzzle of one another.

South Downs by summerofspock (76k, E) Blackballed from the industry ten years ago, Anthony Crowley jumps at the chance to star in a new Regency romance miniseries with well-known gay actor Aziraphale Fell in the hopes that it will help him restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley has played all sorts of characters and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he's struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

Or Be Nice by charlottemadison (151k, E) Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbours. And…it does not go at all well, until it does. A human AU in which Aziraphale is a bookseller, Crowley is a drummer, and they are both petty disasters in the worst/best way. +++ “So what’s your deal?” “My-my-my deal?” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m a bookseller, is my deal.” “Oh,” Crowley replied, sounding as uninterested as it was possible to sound. “It’s just, I couldn’t help overhearing, and --” Aziraphale swallowed hard. “You really are an accomplished musician. But I thought -- for after 11PM -- perhaps we could reach some arrangement?” “Arrangement?” Aziraphale felt his his smile turning forced. “Such as, perhaps, playing the drums before eleven? Instead of after?” Crowley stared blankly at him. In fact he stared for so long that Aziraphale briefly wondered if he'd lapsed into ancient Greek again, which he was known to do in bad dreams or during panic attacks.

#i could probably make another 20 parts but!! #i wanna gush about all these individually ngl sjsjsj #anon #answered #good omens #good omens fic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens human au #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #foolish recs

[pulquedeguayaba]

From Palfest ig account

Tobias Menzies (The Crown, Game of Thrones) reads from the social media posts of Gazan poet Mosab Abu Toha

Recorded on October 31st at a Palestine Festival of Literature event in London

#palestine #free palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #tobias menzies #the crown #game of thrones #got #outlander #rome #hbo rome #the terror #the terror amc #mosab abu toha #gaza #poetry

[denimbex1986]

'Writer and poet Benjamin Zephaniah has died aged 65, after being diagnosed with a brain tumour eight weeks ago.

A statement posted on his Instagram account confirmed he died in the early hours of Thursday.

The statement said Zephaniah's wife "was with him throughout and was by his side when he passed".

"We shared him with the world and we know many will be shocked and saddened by this news," it added.

Zephaniah was born and raised in Handsworth, Birmingham, the son of a Barbadian postman and a Jamaican nurse. He was dyslexic and left school aged 13, unable to read or write.

He moved to London aged 22 and published his first book, Pen Rhythm.

His early work used dub poetry, a Jamaican style of work that has evolved into the music genre of the same name, and he would also perform with the group The Benjamin Zephaniah Band.

As Zephaniah's profile grew, he became a familiar face on television and was credited with bringing Dub Poetry into British living rooms.

He also wrote five novels as well as poetry for children, and his first book for younger readers, Talking Turkeys, was a huge success upon its publication in 1994.

On top of his writing work, Zephaniah was an actor and appeared in the BBC drama series Peaky Blinders between 2013 and 2022.

He played Jeremiah "Jimmy" Jesus, appearing in 14 episodes across the six series.

Zephaniah famously rejected an OBE in 2003 due to the association of such an honour with the British Empire and its history of slavery.

"I've been fighting against empire all my life, fighting against slavery and colonialism all my life," he told The Big Narstie Show in 2020.

"I've been writing to connect with people, not to impress governments and monarchy. So I could I then accept an honour that puts the word Empire on to my name? That would be hypocritical.

He often spoke out about issues such as racial abuse and education.

When he was younger, Zephaniah served a prison sentence for burglary and received a criminal record.

In 1982, Zephaniah released an album called Rasta, which featured the Wailers' first recording since the death of Bob Marley.

It also included a tribute to the then-political prisoner Nelson Mandela, who would later become South African president.

In an interview in 2005, Zephaniah said growing up in a violent household led to him assuming that was the norm.

He recalled: "I once asked a friend of mine, 'What do you do when your dad beats your mum?' And he went: 'He doesn't.'

"I said, 'Ah, you come from one of those, like, feminist houses. So, what do you do when your mum beats your dad?'"

In 2012, he was chosen to guest edit an edition of BBC Radio 4's Today programme.

Zephaniah was nominated for autobiography of the year at the National Book Awards for his work, The Life And Rhymes Of Benjamin Zephaniah, which was also shortlisted for the Costa Book Award in 2018.

During a Covid-19 lockdown, Zephaniah recited one of his poems in a video for the Hay Festival.

"Benjamin was a true pioneer and innovator. He gave the world so much," the statement announcing his death said.

"Through an amazing career including a huge body of poems, literature, music, television and radio, Benjamin leaves us with a joyful and fantastic legacy."

A statement from the Black Writers' guild, which Zephaniah helped establish, said: "Our family of writers is in mourning at the loss of a deeply valued friend and a titan of British literature. Benjamin was a man of integrity and an example of how to live your values."

Others paying tribute included author Michael Rosen, who said: "I'm devastated. I admired him, respected him, learnt from him, loved him. Love and condolences to the family and to all who loved him too."

Actress Adjoa Andoh posted: "We have lost a Titan today. Benjamin Zephaniah. Beautiful Poet, Professor, Advocate for love and humanity in all things. Heartbroken. Rest In Your Power - our brother."

Peaky Blinders actor Cillian Murphy said in a statement: "Benjamin was a truly gifted and beautiful human being.

"A generational poet, writer, musician and activist. A proud Brummie and a Peaky Blinder. I'm so saddened by this news."

Broadcaster Trevor Nelson said: "So sad to hear about the passing of Benjamin Zephaniah. Too young, too soon, he had a lot more to give. He was a unique talent."

Singer-songwriter and musician Billy Bragg added: "Very sorry to hear this news. Benjamin Zephaniah was our radical poet laureate. Rest in power, my friend."

Comedian, actor and writer Lenny Henry said: "I was saddened to learn of the passing of my friend Benjamin Zephaniah. His passion for poetry, his advocacy for education for all was tireless."

Writer Nels Abbey said: "To call this crushing news is a massive understatement. He was far too young, far too brilliant and still had so much to offer. A loss we'll never recover from."

The X/Twitter account for Premier League football club Aston Villa, whom Zephaniah supported said everyone at the club was "deeply saddened" by the news.

"Named as one of Britain's top 50 post-war writers in 2008, Benjamin was a lifelong Aston Villa fan and had served as an ambassador for the AVFCFoundation. Our thoughts are with his family and friends at this time."'

#Benjamin Zephaniah #The Benjamin Zephaniah Band #Peaky Blinders #Cillian Murphy #Adjoa Andoh #Michael Rosen #Black Writers Guild #Hay Festival #The Life And Rhymes Of Benjamin Zephaniah #Jeremiah “Jimmy” Jesus #Rasta #Pen Rhythm #Aston Villa #Nels Abbey #Lenny Henry #Billy Bragg #Trevor Nelson

[fiercynn]

palestinian poets: najwan darwish

najwan darwish is a poet from jerusalem, palestine. he has published eight poetry books in arabic and his work has been translated into over twenty languages. he's been described by the new york review of books as "one of the foremost arabic-language poets".

kareem james abu-zeid has served as his primary translator from arabic to english except where i've named another translator. darwish's collections translated into english are fabrications (2013, translated by sousan hammad), nothing more to lose (2014), exhausted on the cross (2018), you are not a poet in granada (2018), and embrace (2020, translated by atef alshaer and paul batchelor).

darwish has co-founded and directed several cultural and artistic projects throughout the arab world and served as the literary advisor to the palestine festival of literature. he has held many key positions in cultural journalism and has been the chief cultural editor of the arabic-language london-based newspaper al araby al jadeed since 2014. 

IF YOU READ JUST ONE POEM BY NAJWAN DARWISH, MAKE IT THIS ONE (translated from arabic to english by kareem james abu-zeid)

OTHER POEMS ONLINE I LOVE BY NAJWAN DARWISH (translated from arabic to english by kareem james abu-zeid unless otherwise noted)

Pass It at granta

What I Can't Imagine at cordite poetry review

At a Poetry Festival (translated by atef alshaer) at the poetry translation workshop

An Obituary at granta

Identity Card at poetry international

We Never Stop at cordite poetry review

Life in Mount Carmel (translated by kareem james abu-zeid and nathalie handal) at words without borders

#poetry #najwan darwish #free palestine #palestinian poets series

[oillydiya]

Things Between Us | Cillian Murphy x OC

Chapter 1 : The Beginning

Summary: Sansa, a 26-year-old graduate student, who unexpectedly encounters a twist of fate when she comes across an actor she never knew before!

Warnings: This fic contains explicit content related to sexuality and various age relationships. The content is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. *The entire story is a work of fiction. All characters, time periods, and places in the story are purely imaginary. Note: This fic is relatively lengthy. If there is sufficient readership, it may be updated continuously. The content is purely the author's imagination and is not related to the actors. There is no intention to disrespect or cause harm to the actors in any way. Please use discretion when reading.* Talk: This is my first attempt at writing a fic, and English is not my native language. If there are any mistakes, I apologize in advance. Feel free to comment and provide feedback.

November, 2022

Bad Day!!!!

 “I’m trying to find a gallery to host an art exhibition for a graduate with my own master’s degree, but I still can’t find it.  Even though this exhibition will be held at the beginning of next month!”

"Damn it! Doing things by oneself is really tiring," Sansa, a twenty-six-year-old young female graduate student, murmured about the situation she was in.

London, a beautiful city, is a dream place for many people, and Sansa is another resident of this city, her hometown. In fact, the young woman had only been back in London for two years, having studied in America at the age of seventeen before returning to pursue a master's degree in England again. After being away for so long!

At present, Sansa is about to graduate with a master's degree within the next month. However, before she could finish, She must organize an art exhibition for her graduation, and it's been almost a month now!

She hasn't been able to find a gallery to showcase her work yet, probably because this is the art festival season held all over London throughout the month. This makes it very difficult for Sansa to find good galleries, as everyone needs a place to display their work!

Sansa thought… this would be the end for her!

The girl picked up her favorite headphones and put them on, selecting her personal playlist. Her right arm held a drawing board, and her left arm carried a bag filled with books that she had just stopped by to buy.

Adding to her own chaos, she picked up her favorite book, which she hadn't finished reading yet, while on a trip to her favorite restaurant in Soho, central London. She is living in her own world, cutting off the chaos from her surroundings—a world full of music, literature, and pleasure that she easily finds from the letters in front.

Sansa stopped in front of Mr. Louis' shop, located on the corner of Soho Street. She always has a table that she likes to sit at—a wall-mounted table, the only one of its kind. Even though there is another table nearby, not too far apart, her table is the most private of all the tables in the restaurant. Miss Louise always prepared this table for she when she needed it.

'He is the kindest,' she admired the shop owner.

The young woman walked towards her usual table, ready to read books and listen to music. She doesn't usually pay much attention to her surroundings, tending to only care about things that she wants to care about. Everything else is just the air or atmosphere around her.

She placed a drawing board next to the wall, always choosing to sit in the chair on the left. Checking, putting away her headphones, and hanging her bag next to the chair, she picked up the book she had left reading, placing it on the table to wait for further reading.

Sansa noticed that at the table next to her, there was a group of people sitting, but she didn't care much about them. She even got annoyed because she felt a little uncomfortable not being able to sit in private in this area alone.

Before Mr. Louis walked in to welcome her,

"Hello, Sansa," he smiled at the girl as always.

"Hello, Miss Louis."

"How are you today?"

Ah, the expression on her face probably says it all.

"Pretty bad. Many things are not in my favor today," she replied with a sad expression.

"Oh, is there anything in this store that will help you feel better? Do you want it as usual?"

She smiled back at the man around her father’s age who owned the shop.

"Then I’d like a cheeseburger as usual. This time, I’d like something juicy, and I’d like a chocolate milkshake with cheese," she said, winking at him like a close friend.

Sansa really likes the cheeseburgers here. They're so delicious you’ll be begging for you life!

"Sure. I’ll inform the chef to prepare a cheeseburger. The juiciest and most special for you. Wait twenty to thirty minutes, and in a moment, we’ll bring you a milkshake."

"Thank you,"

she thought, even though today was a bad day! At least, she got to eat something delicious to comfort herself!

After finishing ordering food, Sansa picked up the book and continued reading. She likes to read books very much. It’s like it’s her thirty-third organ. The more she reads, the more she enjoys the story. Books often make her feel like she’s immersed in the writing.

"Hello,"

Sansa looked up slightly at the owner of the voice.

"Hello," she replied and continued reading!

"I’m Tom."

The young man introduced himself. Sansa looked up at him again. Tom is considered to be a good-looking man, and his demeanor seems like that of a good-natured person.

She smiled at him but didn’t reply. Pretty bad manners, right? But yes! Sansa doesn’t want to continue talking to Tom. She just wanted to read a book quietly, only by herself!

“What is your name?”

Damn it! She thought, these men! You really are such a pushover. Sigh!… She probably have to respond politely.

“Sansa.”

“I saw you walking with a drawing board. Are you an artist, Sansa?”

“I’m an art major.”

Before she lowered her head and continued reading her book. ‘Shit,’ She thought to herself. She’s not good at talking. It was always difficult for her.

“Oh…wow, that’s really great.” Tom didn’t seem to relent.

“I really want to see your work. Can I have your IG so I can follow your work?”

She thought for a moment before answering him,

“I’m sorry. I don’t use social media.”

Tom’s face looked disappointed. “Then can I have your number instead?”

What is this!? Sansa cursed in thought.

“I only have my personal number, and I still want it to be private. I can’t give it to you; I’m sorry.”

Tom’s face was now extremely disappointed. Before Tom got up, preparing to walk back to his table. “You are very beautiful.”

Tom turned around and spoke before walking away from her table…

Sansa didn’t feel a thing at the compliment. She just kept her head down and continued reading. Because this wasn’t the first time she had encountered a situation like this. And she really doesn’t like it!! From an event just a moment ago, this made she feel a bit uneasy after being interrupted from reading and made her not in the mood to read further.

The young woman took off her leather jacket before folding it thick, then put it on the back. Then, she took out the curling iron, shook and spread it around before leaning back in the chair and relaxing. She raised her face to the soft afternoon sunlight, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes… picking up the book and putting it down to rest her eyes from the light that shines in. And now, her mind is calmer…

On another side, four young men were drinking coffee and talking about the job they had just interviewed for today.

“How was your film interview today, Cillian?” a fellow screenwriter asked, a forty-six-year-old young actor.

“Excellent,” he replied.

While Cillian was talking with his screenwriter friend Steve, his eyes caught sight of a woman! ‘Wow, what a beautiful woman!’

he thought. She had large, bright green eyes, long eyelashes, dark, well-lined eyebrows, a curved nose that complemented her sharp jaw, full, pink lips, slender and chubby. That sharp face fits perfectly with hair that is loosely tied. And there was a small tangled strand of hair. It fell down on her left cheek, making her look so strikingly beautiful that he had to turn and look!

Cillian saw her carrying a pile of things. One hand holding a book, another person holds a large chalkboard. She also had headphones over her ears. He noticed that she wasn't looking or paying attention to anything around her, and he thought that she should definitely come sit at the empty table next to his! Personally, he didn’t want anyone to sit at that table because it will give him and his friends more privacy.

But it’s okay!! It would be good if she came and sat. ‘Because she is quite beautiful.’ That made him feel somewhat satisfied.

The older male actor occasionally glanced at the unknown woman but didn’t pay much attention to her until a man walked up to her.

‘Is he going to be her boyfriend?’ Cillian thought.

His and hers’ tables were not too far apart, allowing him to hear their conversation. And from the conversation, Cillian then knew… that the young man just came to flirt with her. He was quite surprised at the young woman’s expression. Plus, she acted clearly bored. She could deny that young man almost every sentence. If he were that man, he would have given up.

Cillian was surprised when she said that she doesn’t use social media. It was strange for a woman her age that most people are addicted to social media. She refused to give the man her number with the most ingenious reason, he thought, ‘Her are very clever.’

Before he returned to chatting with his tablemates. But then… ‘Fuck?!’ She took off that black leather jacket! His and his tablemates’ eyes immediately turned towards her.

Damn it! He didn’t want to look at all, but he really couldn’t help but glance at the position of the girl and him. It makes the two of them look like they’re sitting next to each other, probably only an arm’s length apart. Making him see her clearly! Her skin is white and smooth, contrasting with the black strapless, making it even more interesting to look at. Her figure is just as beautiful, with her face, especially when she unwrapped her hair and spread it out.

‘Damn!’ he thought, this was one of the most beautiful pictures he had ever seen. Her side view was strikingly beautiful. Her nose was high and slender, sharply contrasting with her jaw. He swallowed. Can’t stop glancing at this beautiful young woman!!!

She stimulated him even more when he smelled a faint scent, soft and sweet. He had never smelled anything like this before.

It’s so mysteriously fascinating?

Cillian thought. This girl is quite interesting. Not from her face or figure, but it’s her personality that doesn’t seem to care about anything. She fell asleep in the middle of the restaurant, took the book and covered her face. It’s like there’s only her in this area. She didn’t even turn to look or pay attention to their table, which really made him feel at ease.

He’s starting to like her!!

#cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic

[doodlerdoodle]

#Repost @petewoodhead

• • • • • •

Royal Festival Hall

A real slice of fried gold!

So nice to chat to Nick Frost and Simon Pegg for the first time since Shaun of the Dead and for them to treat me to one of their spectacular looking in different directions photos. (Apparently if you are on Cluck they are looking straight at you!)

They were at Southbank Centre to launch Nick's new memoir cookbook A Slice of Fried Gold but more on that later........

Simon asked after you @danmudford

#nickfrost #simonpegg #asliceoffriedgold #londonlitfest #comedygold #comedy #comedians #actors #authors #southbankcentre

#simon pegg #nick frost #fregg #london literature festival 2023

[literarylondonhq]

Back in the Literary Pub…

There’s nothing like a good #British #Pub in the Autumn. Especially one with tales to tell…! Visit us! http://www.LondonLiteraryPubCrawl.com

View On WordPress

#bohemian #Books #Cerys Matthews #Charles Dickens #Dr Who #drinking #Dylan Thomas #French House Pub #harry potter #irish #Jane Austin #literature #London #London festivals #London Literary Pub Crawl.com #Oscar Wilde #poetry #poets #pubs #Shakespeare #Ulysses. Virgin!. James Joyce #WB Yeats #west end

[vale-priestess]

❀ MAYPOST ❀

Below is an article of mine I’ve shared before, about how Wiccans (especially those outside of the UK) have a skewed perception of May Day that does not necessarily reflect surviving traditions. This was long before the TERFs really started to take hold over the “nature-based” demographics; many of these harmless folk customs would be outlawed if they had the power to do so. Anyway, here it is in full, because nobody wants to click through a bunch of links. (archived here)  ❀ Some time ago, I began to question what I've generally been told about British folk traditions. May Day, for example. I was so busy re-educating myself about folk festivals in Gaelic cultures, that I never stopped to question what I knew about British ones. My following visit to Wikipedia was illuminating.

Here are some things I was surprised to learn.

1. May Day is feminine and twee by today's standards.

At a neopagan festival, you're likely to encounter a maypole, and any dancing that occurs will be performed in the weaving of the ribbons around it. In England, there's a lot more dancing. Elaborately choreographed dancing. Young and old folks dancing. With bells. And ribbons. And wands. And little hankies. And flowers. Flowers on hats. Men's hats. 

These Cotswold dancers, for example. Or these dancers at Oxford Circus. As you can see from some of the comments, the average citizen tends to find these displays uncool and annoying. Failing to combat this attitude is a contingent of "goths and pagans" on a mission to butch the whole thing up with black clothing, phallic pantomime, and seasonally inappropriate hats - much to the disapproval of traditionalists (and people who can see.) 

Happily, morris isn't restricted to the month of May. They are also seen on other holidays, such as St George's Day and Pentecost. On Plough Monday, dancers in East Anglia gather in “molly teams,” made up of jolly, burly types dressed like little girls. 

Royal Liberty Morris dancers and “molly”

2. The May Queen can be a little girl.

Wiccan and neopagan literature tends to emphasize the idea of May Day as a marriage rite between the “king” and “queen” of spring. But that doesn’t necessarily describe the festivals that have survived to the present day. In many townships, the sole representative of springtime is the May Queen: a young girl chosen from among local students in their pre-to-mid-teens. 

She is crowned before her community and a procession is made to welcome her rule. 

She may have a wide cast of characters and troops to accompany her, including musicians, dancers and attendants. One of the longest running May Day fairs is held each year in Hayfield, Derbyshire, where there are many roles and silly costumes donned by children and adults. 

Hayfield May Queen attended by girls dressed as beefeaters.

There is precedent for a May King, however, to be found in some Early Modern sources. Here's one mention of a "Lord of May" from the diary of Henry Machyn, in 1557: "On the 30th day of May was a jolly May-game in Fenchurch Street (London) with drums and guns and pikes, The Nine Worthies did ride; and they all had speeches, and the morris dance and sultan and an elephant with a castle and the sultan and young moors with shields and arrows, and the lord and lady of the May." These military characters may reflect the Spanish origins of morris dance, where battles were reenacted to commemorate historical conflicts with Morocco.

Additionally, in Sports and Pastimes of the People of England, the author tells us that "in the comedy called The Knight of The Burning Pestle, written by Beaumont and Fletcher in 1611, a citizen, addressing himself to the other actors, says, 'Let Ralph come out on May-day in the morning, and speak upon a conduit, with all his scarfs about him, and his feathers, and his rings, and his knacks, as Lord of the May.' His request is complied with, and Ralph appears upon the stage in the assumed character, where he makes his speech, beginning in this manner: With gilded staff and crossed scarf the May Lord here I stand." Strutt also notes the appearance of Robin Hood appearing in May Day performances, accompanied by "a female, or rather, perhaps, a man habited like a female, called the Maid Marian, his faithful mistress." 

From this, we see that...

3. The May Queen can be a drag performer.

In the late 1880s, chimney-sweeps and other guild-workers had developed their own styles of celebration. For them, the "Lady of the May" was typically played by a man, for comedic effect. She carried a ladle and was dressed like a flirty cook, while the "Lord of the May" was dressed as an admiral, or a gentleman in a powdered wig. I find this example interesting, not just for its urban setting, but for the satirical quality of the characters involved. Also, these games came about after morris traditions had lain dormant in the countryside for some time.

Some regions have processions led only by Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Interestingly, the Maid Marian was the sole focus of these pageants for centuries before the Robin Hood mythos came into being, and continued to preside over the festivities long after he had faded from popularity.

Another one of the oldest continuing May Day processions is the Abbots Bromley Horn Dance, dating back to the 11th century. Here, Maid Marian has no consort. Then, as now, she was played by a young man. 

The Horn Dancers consist of the horn bearers, the Maid Marian, the Fool, a boy to keep time on triangle, and a boy with a bow and arrow. In recent years, girls have also been allowed to participate in the boys’ roles.

4. The May Queen can be a doll.

This is an interesting practice that bears a close resemblance to the Gaelic custom of making the Brideog doll on Imbolc. The Oxford Dictionary of English Folklore tells us:

The most widespread and best known May Day activity in the 19th and early 20th centuries was the children's garland custom. In essence, this involved groups of children visiting houses in their community showing a garland, singing a song, and collecting money. [...] A regular, but not ubiquitous, feature was to place a dressed and decorated doll (sometimes more than one) in the centre of the garland, or in front of it. She was usually called something like Her Lady, or The Queen, and treated with great respect. Commentators assume she represented the Virgin Mary. In some places, it was the doll which was given precedence, rather than the garland, transported in a decorated box or basket... 

In this write-up from a UK newspaper, we're told:

There has been much debate about what the May Doll represents. Some believed it was the Virgin Mary, to whom the month was dedicated, others Flora or the May Queen. One of a group of young girls told a folklorist in Bampton, Oxfordshire in the 1970s that their doll represented a goddess whilst another in the group said it was Minerva! In Edlesborough, Buckinghamshire, two dolls, one smaller than the other, were carried in a covered decorated chair to resemble the Virgin and Child. 

It also notes that in some counties, this doll was called "the Maulkin." Bringing this all back around, these etymology geeks claim that "maulkin" or "malkin" was once a common term for the young man dressed as the lady in May Day dances and parades. Guess playing dress-up was always the point.

What strikes me the most after learning all of this? Overall, traditional May Day festivities seem...almost diametrically opposed to the image presented to me by the pagan community, which was all about reinforcing strict gender roles. On the American side at least, I think a lot of pagan men would find the absence of a May King intolerable, and the presence of a drag queen unthinkable. In their minds, this can't be what their ancestors intended. If they can invent their own May Day to be more heavy metal, then they will do just that. 

I am not here to say that old customs are good and new ones are bad. Many of the traditions described above were revived in the 1900s, by new communities who did new things with it. There were also debates in the mid-20th century, around whether women should be allowed to participate in May dancing, despite the fact that women were evidently involved both in its history and preservation. So it’s not as if the legacy of May Day is totally free of sexism or revisionism. What I'm here to say is this: Sometimes, when a person claims to be practicing an ancient faith that's been passed down secretly through the country-ways of the common-folk, you have to ask yourself: what is it they're really advocating? Tradition? Clearly, tradition has no problem with unmarried girls or cross-dressing men. Nature veneration? Somehow, the seasons kept turning through all this. If someone is telling you a story about what your forebears practiced, believed, or valued - can you be sure they’re telling the truth? To the best of their ability? It's important to be sure, I think, if we sincerely want to honor the past.

❀

Extras:

Jack-In-The-Green Revisited

Quest For the Queens is a collection of BBC footage of May Day festivities in New Westminster, from the 1930s onward.

The Hayfield May Festival in 2011.

Nigel Pennick with a May garland and doll, plus a song on accordion.

#may day #beltane #wicca #I tried to post this earlier in the day #but I started disassociating really badly #I definitely don't have religious trauma #from the happy hippie religion #nope none at all #why is the last emoji so huge

[aziraphales-library]

hello I wanted to ask you if it was possible to recommend me au or crowley or aziraphale and tutor or parents of Adam if possible a fanfic with a lot of chapters I know I ask you a lot but if you manage to find me some I marry you

Hi. Please check out our #professors, #kid fic, and #adam young tags for loads of fics like this for you to enjoy! Here are a few more to add to the collection...

Poor Men by smol_bird (G)

What To Do When Two of Your Professors Are Hopelessly in Love With Each Other: an instruction manual by Adam Young (featuring Pepper Moonchild because someone has to be the voice of reason here).

Part of the Whole Design by nightbloomingcereus (T)

Crowley meets Aziraphale for the first time in Paris, where they spend a day and a night together. It's 6,000 days before they meet again, as professors at Oxford.

Human/Academia AU.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield by heloluv (M)

Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers.

Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye.

A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year.

A University Affair by Two_of_Clubs (E)

Professor Ezra Fell is just beginning his new job at the University of London. Little does he know just how exciting his new life in London is going to be. From his first lecture to his first full academic year, Ezra Fell encounters it all! That means odd coworkers, nosy students, and let's not forget difficult family members! Not to mention, a particular professor who works down the hall that his new boss is just a little too happy to introduce him to...

Slides of Stars by Mjazilem (T)

“Excellent, welcome back to St. Terrence Professor Phell.”

Zira grins from ear to ear. “Thank you, thank you Dean!”

“Ha, alright, you go and settle in, the staff will be meeting at noon in the conference hall in the administration building so everyone can meet our newest professors.”

“Professors? Who else is coming on?”

“Another young man, he also attended school here you might remember Anthony Crowley.”

Crowley? Zira didn't remember the name maybe when he saw him he would recognize his face.

or

Zira Phell is a new literature professor at St. Terrence. He's not the only new teacher. Anthony J. Crowley is an intriguing young man with a mysterious past that keeps unfolding. As the mystery comes to light Zira finds he loves teaching and he loves Crowley.

All My Heart Is Yours by FeralTuxedo (E)

1847. Aziraphale Fell arrives at Eden Hall to take up his new position as tutor to the young heir. The house is enormous, remote, and its occupants rather strange — but none more so than its master, the ill-mannered but inconveniently handsome Mr Crowley.

Mr Crowley’s gaze lingered on him.

‘Now I see you in broad daylight, I can tell you’re no gentleman.’

Aziraphale bristled. He was wearing his best ensemble, and it was of fine enough quality, if a little rumpled from the luggage.

‘Whereas you certainly look the part, even if your manners suggest otherwise.’

A Victorian human AU loosely inspired by Jane Eyre, but with 50% less angst and 100% less spousal incarceration.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #professors #professors au #adam young #mod d

[opinion247]

FELA, THE UNBEARABLE REIGNING PROPHET– BY EGUNGWU C. BENJAMIN

Due to this year's Felabration music festival themed 'Question Jam Answer,' which started on 9th and will be ending on Sunday, 15th October, 2023. I decided to pen down this commemorative piece for the musical icon.

In this piece we will discuss about how the musical festival started and the brain behind it, we will also have brief background of the music icon and information about his career and achievements.

In 1998 Felabration was conceptualized by the late Afrobeat music legend's daughter, Yeni Anikulapo-Kuti just to remember his father's legacy. How he used music as a tool to speak about bad governance , exposing the hidden skeletons in the cupboard of corrupt politicians and religious institution leaders.

The music festival is hosted once every year for seven days and people comes from different states in the country, some from different countries to celebrate the Music icon at Afrika Shrine, Ikeja, Lagos State.

Brief Background of the Music Icon

 Olufela Olusegun Oludotun Ransome-Kuti Popularly called 'Fela Anikulapo-Kuti' was born on 15th October, 1938, in Abeokuta, Ogun state, into an upper middle class family.

The Late, Chief. Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti was the mother of Fela. She a very popular feminist activist during the anti-colonial movement and first woman to drive a car in Nigeria back in 1951, while his father, Reverend, Israel Oludotun Ransome-Kuti, was a school principal and first president of the Nigeria Union of Teacher.

Later Fela Kuti removed 'Ransome' from his name and changed it to 'Anikulapo' meaning "He who carries death in his pouch or hands".

This will bring us to one of his hit track, that I love so much titled 'Colo-mentality'. In the song he talked about how the British sold their culture and language to us. we took everything and abandoned ours which makes us original.

In the song he said;

" If you say you be colonial man. You don be slave man before. Them don release you now. But you never release yourself. in another stanza he said;

"Dem go proud of dem name. And put dem slave name for head. No be so?… "

This can be linked to his decision to change his English name ' Ransome' to a Yoruba name 'Anikulapo'.

Fela Kuti is a cousin to the Popular writer and laureate Wole Soyinka (a Nobel Prize for Literature winner).

Brief Music Journey

Base on my research , I found out that the Music Icon was actually sent to London to study medicine just like his brothers; are all medical doctors.

He got to UK enrolled at Trinity College London where he studied classical music and became exposed to different musical sounds by playing piano in jazz and rock bands.

However, in I960s he returned to Nigeria and formed a band ' Koola Lobitos' just as he played when he was in London and Afrobeat sound started from that group through experiment and practices.

That is why he is refered to as the King of Afrobeat which is Jazz, Funk, Ghanaian/Nigerian High-life and psychedelic rock infusion.

Most of the top Afrobeat stars in the world like; Burna-Boy who claimed that his style of music is Afro-fusion. This is inspired by Fela Kuti and he affirmed to it.

During his life time while doing Music in Nigeria, he used it as an instrument to talk c on themes like; freedom, injustice, corruption and any other social vices within the country.

Due to his doggedness and ability to withstand pressure from the Military government in power, they were looking for reasons to find him guilty and jail him.

He declared himself the head of his communal compound, which he named the independent 'Kalakuta Republic'. The place got many attention due to use of drugs, indulgence in sex, polygamy support ( he married 27 women ).

It was said that 1000 soildiers raided his house,' Kalakuta Republic' in Lagos. Thy destroyed his properties and beat up everyone in there.

During the raid Fela, 's mother, Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, was thrown out from the window. She sustained serious injuries and died at the General Hospital in Lagos on April 13, 1978 and most National Dailies reported the incident with the headline; “Fela’s Mum is Dead" or " Fela's House Burnt ".

This didn't make him stop his musical career or compromise his stand. He dropped more hit tracks like; “Zombie,” “Beasts of No Nation,” “Upside Down" and “Monkey Banana,”.

In his hit track " Zombie" he said; "Zombie no go walk unless you tell am to walk", Which Ironically, he was referring to the military or soldiers who doesn't do things they wish to do but they act base on order or instructions from top ranking officers.

This still remind me my days in Enugu, while still a kid, any time my mother is singing this song, just know you are suppose to do something and you haven't done it. (Smiles African parents still the best).

I referred to him as a prophet in this piece because his music his ever green. Everything he said when he was alive is still happening and even getting worse.

His music stirs ones mind to reflect on life unlike the the artist today that centers their music on sex and flamboyancy. Fela also sang about sex and having good time.

I am not against this kind of music everyone has there style of music and decision to choose what to sing about but once in a while they should use music as a tool to stir-up consciousness.

I dance and sing to the new style of songs, the artists are putting Africa in global map, Everyone is trying to identify themselves as an African but they should also remember that music is an art and should be used to convey message to educate and inform. It shouldn't be for entertainment purpose only.

I do appreciate Singers like; Falz, Tekno, Idris Abdul Kareem, Daddy Showkey, Late Sound Sultan, et-al .

#black art #books #government #literature #music #fela kuti #nigeria news #afrobeats #entertainment #authors