#lire's 40 to the 40s

[lire-casander]

#1 constant physical touch to feel safe

constant physical touch to feel safe original prompt list here

TK had always been a very touchy-feely person. Carlos had noticed it from the very start of their blossoming relationship ― from the lingering touches after sharing more than just a few kisses on Carlos’s couch to TK resting his head on Carlos’s shoulder while they actually chill on their night off.

But, after the kidnapping, it amplifies tenfold. It’s not just that TK seeks that physical contact; is that he revels in it more than he already did. TK reaches out to touch Carlos’s arm whenever they cross paths during a call; he allows one finger to trace Carlos’s biceps after sex. Carlos loves TK’s newly-discovered clingy side, but it also worries him.

“Not that I’m complaining,” he begins one night while he’s trying to cook dinner with TK becoming a koala draped over his back. “But I can’t really check on the red snapper if you keep this up.”

“This?” TK asks innocently, not even relenting for one second. “Don’t know what you mean, Carlos.”

Carlos turns around in the narrow space TK’s left for him, and immediately his fiancé places one hand over Carlos’s heart. And it’s then, when Carlos can feel his heartbeat in sync with TK’s, that he finally understands.

TK’s making sure that Carlos is still alive, that he’s still breathing.

“I’m here,” he mutters, dropping the tweezers he’s holding and wrapping his arms around TK. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You almost did,” TK mutters. “I don’t know how you survived all those times I was in a hospital bed.”

“I knew you’d fight to come back to me,” Carlos tells him. “Just as you should know I’ll always fight the hardest to come back home. I wasn’t lying, TK. My life is yours.”

“And mine is yours,” TK promises.

They remain silent for a few seconds, swaying in place, holding each other, until the oven beeps. Carlos drops a kiss on TK’s crown.

“Gotta check on the fish,” he whispers. “I love you. I’m here.”

“I love you too,” TK reciprocates.

He never lets go of Carlos’s hand, and Carlos does the only thing he can think of.

He holds on to TK’s hand.

#lire's 40 to the 40s #prompt 1 #prompt 1: constant physical touch to feel safe #tarlos #tk strand/carlos reyes #carlos reyes/tk strand #911ls #911 ls #911 lone star #fluff #canon compliant

[wariocompany]

okay this may be a loaded question but - where does one start with asterix. french or english material, doesn't matter

Not loaded at all! Astérix are all stand-alone, so there's no actual order you have to follow. However, I always recommend one starts with the first 24 albums, in any order that you'd please, then go on to the others up to 39.

The first 24 are written by Goscinny, and while I love all the Astérix eras for different reasons, when people talk about "Astérix" as a phenomenon, they mean Goscinny.

So, where to start?! Again, that's entirely up to you. To give you a guide, I'll sort them into categories that might interest you. (BOLD = FAVOURITE OF MINE!)

Group 1: Astérix and Obélix travel to all sorts of places that aren't Rome, with gags abound relating to every culture. Ever wanted a book that just shits on Germany for 40 pages? Look no further.

Asterix and the Golden Sickle (Paris)

Asterix and the Goths (Germany)

Asterix and the Banquet (France in general)

Asterix and Cleopatra (Egypt

Asterix in Britain (Britain)

Asterix and the Normans (Vikings)

Asterix at the Olympic Games (Greece)

Asterix in Spain (Spain)

Asterix in Switzerland (Switzerland)

Asterix in Corsica (Corsica)

Asterix and the Great Crossing (United States)

Asterix in Belgium (Belgium)

Group 2: The village (mostly just Astérix) deals with problems not solveable with magic potion alone. A great deal of satire about politics, economics, and interpersonal relationships.

Asterix and the Cauldron

Asterix and the Roman Agent

The Mansions of the Gods

Asterix and the Soothsayer

Asterix and Caesar's Gift

Obelix and Co. I cannot recommend this one enough.

Group 3: Astérix and Obélix just make the Romans' lives generally miserable on their own turf because, well, fuck you.

Asterix the Gaul

Asterix the Gladiator

Asterix and the Big Fight

Asterix the Legionary

Asterix and the Chieftain's Shield

Asterix and the Laurel Wreath

Group 4: Mais je veux lire en français ! Sous-estime pas mes compétences !

Okay, but don't say I don't spoil you. This took ages.

Astérix le Gaulois

Astérix et la Serpe D'Or

Astérix et les Goths

Astérix Gladiateur

Le Tour de Gaule d'Astérix

Astérix et Cleopatre (voilà où je suis tombé sur des problèmes. Si ça marche pas, vaut mieux qu'on le cherche sur Google)

Le Combat des Chefs

Astérix chez les Bretons

Astérix et les Normands

Astérix Légionnaire

Astérix aux Jeux Olympiques

Astérix et le Chaudron

Astérix en Hispanie

La Zizanie

Astérix chez les Helvètes

Le Domaine des Dieux

Les Lauriers de César

Le Devin

Astérix en Corse

Astérix et le Cadeau de César

La Grande Traversée

Obélix et Compagnie

Astérix chez les Belges

And if any links don't work or seem strange, all you need to do is Google "[name] PDF"! I have gotten many a virus while trying to read BD, but never from Astérix.

Have a wonderful time reading!

#hi de ho

[charlievigorous]

Caro ristoratore;

Ti lamenti che non trovi personale, ma inizia a pagare!

Io sono uno di quei ristoratori che paga il minimo garantito i suoi dipendenti. Io sono uno di quei camerieri che nel 1990 prendeva 1 milione di lire a settimana. Io sono uno di quei camerieri che lavorava 10-15 ore al giorno e si faceva il culo a tarallo.

Nel 1990 lavoravo in un ristorante con 1.200 coperti, nella zona flegrea, di sabato e domenica andavamo a prendere sedie e tavoli in un altro ristorante poco distante, perché gli invitati a comunioni e matrimoni erano sempre di più, e nel 1990 non c’era l’esclusiva, nella stessa giornata potevi fare anche 5 matrimoni e 25 comunioni.

Il mio titolare aveva la 5ª elementare. Era un eroe! Il 1º ad arrivare l’ultimo ad andare via. Un grande! Pagava e ringraziava!

A quei tempi un cameriere, da solo, faceva una comunione da 40 persone. Sul braccio 10/15 piatti. Di sera il rosso tra le chiappe, borotalco e spirito.

Un barman bravo, nel 1990 prendeva 300mila lire a servizio.

Non so se rendo l’idea.

Io nel 1990 avevo 10 punti, il massimo dopo 10 anni di servizio. Prendevo 1 milione a settimana + le mance, arrivavo tranquillo, con la spicciolata a 5/6 milioni al mese.

Non mi mancava niente!

A fine stagione avevo comprato una Lancia Delta HF integrale 16v. In pochi capiranno.

Oggi ho 2 ristoranti, faccio solo eventi, e ai miei camerieri gli do 2.850 euro al mese + le mance.

Credo siano pochi ma purtroppo tra tasse e spese non riesco a fare di più.

I miei ragazzi lavorano sodo e meritano di più.

Sono straordinari.

Lo stipendio giusto rapportato al 1990 sarebbe 4.000 € al mese.

Adesso, chiunque, faccia I mio stesso lavoro, se non è in grado di garantire almeno 2.850 euro al mese a un cameriere bravo, deve solo chiudere e andare a fare in culo.

Non ci sono cazzi che tengono o redditi di cittadinanza come scusa.

Dovete pagare! Il lavoro fatto bene si paga.

Dal web: Movimento Giovani Italiani

[bu1410]

Good morning TUMBLR. From today February 29, 2024, I have decided to publish a sort of memoir of my life in installments on TUMBLR. These are memories of travel and work experiences around the world, over a period of approximately 40 years.

The title is': ''Mr. Plant has owed me a shoe since July 5, 1971."

I hope to interest at least three or four readers.

Introduction Why this curious title, you will ask yourselves, my dear 3 or 4 readers. Well I have to think back to an evening way back in 1971, where I was one of the 20,000-odd spectators at a Led Zeppelin concert, the greatest rock group of all time. The concert, which had just begun for goodness sake, was interrupted by police charges, and we were forced to flee from the Vigorelli velodrome in Milan following the throwing of tear gas. Much has been said and written about that unfortunate evening. The fact is that despite Robert Plant's appeals for calm (Smile! Smile! Smile! he shouted into the microphone) which also sounded a little ironic, given the frequent firing of tear gas, at a certain point under the pressure of the human tide who was pushing us against the stage (we were among the lucky ones in the front rows) me and the 3 friends with whom I had come to attend the concert were forced to flee towards the velodrome track, and then to climb over the fence. In the excitement of the moment I lost one of my tennis shoes, but by then I was on the other side of the fence, and about 2 or 3 thousand people wanted to do the same thing, that is, climb over the fence! So I had to abandon the unhealthy idea of going back to the other side to retrieve the shoe. We somehow managed to escape from the velodrome, and took refuge on the floor of the FIAT 850 parked around there, in which we had come to the concert. Meanwhile the battle raged all around us. Every now and then we took a look out the windows, but the smoke from the tear gas and the burning cars didn't allow us to see much of what was happening. There were only big bangs and explosions of weapons and sirens that wouldn't stop screaming. I remember clearly seeing and hearing a lady from one of the balconies of the condominiums around the velodrami shouting at the policemen: ''Kill all those bastards…….don't leave even one alive….!! It all ended after hours, and all we had to do was sadly return home, happy to have saved our skin. The car - owned by the friend Eridano's mother - was full of dents, but the windows were intact. Later, when I finally got home, I threw the remaining shoe in the garbage.

INCIPIT But who is Bruno Sironi? It's easy to say: a child of '68 and the so-called ''Economic Boom'' - one of the many (all…) who had been made to believe that ''life will always be better'' and that ''the future will belongs''(and the best is yet to come) One who saw Italians go from the Vespa to the ''500'' and from the 500 to the 600 and then gradually the 850 and then the FIAT UNO and the Ritmo…and the butchers' boys ride in Alfa GT Junior (1,260,000 Lire in 1970) . To then understand that this was not the case and suddenly, just as it had begun, the era of continuous ''progress'' could (and did) end (and end badly). One who had to hear Comrade ''in cashmere'' Bertinotti that ''For the first time since the end of the last war there is the prospect that children will have a worse life than their fathers''. And the lawyer Agnelli declared in the famous television interview with Mixer in 1984 - to a question from the journalist Minoli on what Italy's prospects could be - he first adjusted his sypholine leg, and then replied: ''But you see Minoli… I believe that if all goes well… within a couple of decades Italy will be able to aspire to a standard of living equal to the best of the so-called Socialist countries, namely Hungary''. And that son of so-called progress, who has now grown old, has now realized that there is never an end to the worst. Because trying to make things worse - beyond Murphy's Laws - is in the nature of man (especially homo Italicus) much more than improving them. And that perhaps human beings start out with the best intentions, but then along the way, when faced with difficulties, they choose compromise, circumventing the obstacle, and almost never overcoming it. And finally, at all latitudes, in every historical period, and under any type of regime, what characterizes human beings is the instinct of dominance. And man's obsession with dominance derives from the very origin of animal DNA, and binds the destiny of every one of us. With these premises, and with a lot of suffering, I began my working adventure abroad by leaving for Arabia (Not Felix…) on 5 May 1980. Yes, the day of the anniversary of Napoleon's death, which I remembered (and I remember still …) by heart the poem dedicated to him by Alessandro Manzoni: He was….since immobile given the mortal sigh….He stood the remains oblivious to such a breath. But before that first trip, there are things and events that are worth telling, because as always, nothing is as it seems. As often happens, a friend, a certain Figini Mauro, approached me one day at the bar and said: ''You know, I have an uncle who works for a large construction company in Milan, with activities abroad'' – Really? ? I answer immediately interested - and what's his name, give me all the details, put me in contact with him, I want to try to have an interview (in short I felt inside that it could be more than one possibility) No sooner said than done, the day arrives when I am summoned to the offices of the ''Great Society''. The headquarters was located at the end of a street in the south of Milan, the continuation of Via Savona, after Viale Tibaldi. I get there first by trolleybus 90 (the Circunvallasiun) and then by walking for a few hundred meters on a dirt road. Admitted inside, I am introduced to a manager by the famous ''Uncle'' - who sings my praises: ''a good boy, good family, I guarantee'' (never seen or heard from the ''Uncle'' before that moment…) It is agreed that, before leaving for Saudi Arabia (Saudi Arabia???), I should spend a few days in an architecture studio in Milan (in Via Pantano). Architect Sala will take care of me, and possibly judge whether I am suitable to be sent to Saudi to draw up the so-called As Built (an English expression meaning ''As built'') drawings, i.e. how any project has been completed, with the changes made during construction highlighted. I thus learn (from Arch Sala) that the Big Society is building a military hospital in Dahran in the Eastern province (a military hospital which later, during the Gulf wars, proved to be very useful).

I then spent a week in the famous architecture studio, which I reached every morning with the public transport of the time: tram from Nova M. to via Farini, then the 8, which took me to via Orefici on the corner of Duomo. And then on foot along Via Mazzini, Via Larga – Via Pantano. Declared ''Suitable'' for the purpose (after having designed a hospital stretcher beater) I was then hired by Big Society and sent to Saudi with the Milan Linate – Rome – Riyadh – Dahran flights: I have a vivid memory of the seat on the left on the plane that I occupied, and of the vision of the Pre-Alps when we turned towards the South: the mountains of my youth disappeared on the horizon… No, it doesn't seem to me that ''as if it were now'', perhaps the opposite: I have the clear perception how much time has passed, 40 or more years… even the century has changed…….

[whencyclopedfr]

Lugh

Lugh (également Lugus ou Lug) était l'un des dieux celtes les plus importants, en particulier en Irlande, et il représentait le soleil et la lumière. Bien qu'il ait été à l'origine une divinité omnisciente et clairvoyante, Lugh fut ensuite considéré comme un personnage historique, un grand guerrier et un héros de la culture irlandaise. Lugh porte souvent une épithète telle que Lugh Lámfada (ou Lámfhota), qui signifie long bras ou "de la longue main", en référence à ses prouesses avec les armes de jet, ou Lugh Samildánach, qui signifie "habile dans de nombreux arts et métiers". Il est un personnage important dans de nombreux récits de la mythologie irlandaise, où il mène la course des Tuatha Dé Danann à la victoire contre les marins Fomoires lors de la bataille de Mag Tuired. Lugh tue le borgne Balor à l'aide de sa lance ou fronde magique et instaure ainsi un règne de 40 ans de paix et de prospérité. Lugh ressemble à bien des égards au dieu celte Lugus, que les Romains décrivaient comme le Mercure gaulois.

Lire la suite...

#Histoire #LeDagda #Newgrange #Lugh

[mochademic]

100 Days of Productivity [Day: 40] || 100 Jours de Productivité [Jour: 40]

playing hide & seek with the sun while also playing catch up. today i finished reading my 11th book of the year - in January I had set a goal to read at least 12. I had been running ahead of schedule up until I started this most recent novel, but I'm genuinely glad I stuck it out to the end.

currently listening // Escapade by Skrux

Aujourd'hui, j'ai terminé la lecture de mon onzième livre de l'année - en janvier, je m'étais fixé pour objectif d'en lire au moins 12. J'avais pris de l'avance jusqu'à ce que je commence ce dernier roman, mais je suis vraiment contente d'avoir tenu jusqu'à la fin.

chanson // Escapade par Skrux

#100 days of productivity #day 40 #100dop #100 jours de productivité #jour 40 #100jdp #studyblr #study motivation #studyspo #study aesthetic #study blog #bookish #gradblr #coffee

[scheggesparse]

Soul Kitchen - Bugs Bunny Crazy Castle 3

Sono preso male quindi scrivo. Vediamo se mi passa...

Non sono qui per parlare del gioco in se, ma piuttosto delle sensazioni di un momento, in un posto che per qualche motivo riesco ancora a ricordare abbastanza vividamente.

Mi trovo nella cucina di casa di mia nonna.

E' un martedì pomeriggio, giorno di chiusura dell'attività  dei miei nonni all'epoca (avevano un bar), e si stanno preparando per andare a fare la spesa per casa/bar.

Io sono in questa cucina che gioco a Crazy Castle 3 e di base non c'è¨ niente di strano, normale amministrazione di me che gioco allo stesso gioco da un sacco di tempo perché sono bloccato all'ultimo livello della seconda tranche cioè la Hall (le tranche sono, in ordine: Garden > Hall > Basement > Treasury).

Fuori fa freddo, è febbraio.

Il sole è già in procinto di salutarci, sono circa le 16.30.

Dalla porta semiaperta della cucina vedo la sala del bar, buia e vuota.

Ogni tanto anche ripensare al bar pieno mi fa quasi strano.

In quel periodo, ovvero inverno del 2000 ("ritmo del duemila / adrenalina puraaaaah" cit. Ritmo - Litfiba - Mondi Sommersi - 1997) come si confà a un individuo di 7 anni (manco compiuti, fai anche 6) non ho un accesso a internet e quindi ignoro bellamente cosa mi si parerà davanti dopo questa sequela di livelli della Hall di sto castello sempre più difficili e ostici.

Ad un certo punto il miracolo. Supero il (per me) famigerato livello 39, mi prodigo di trovare carta e penna per segnarmi la password per continuare poi dal livello 40, siccome in quel momento mi chiama mio nonno dicendomi esser pronti per andare.

E proprio in quell'istante qualcosa da qualche parte del mio cervello si materializza, e rimane li ancora oggi come una fotografia che riesco a rivedere se ci ripenso. Come una fotografia su pellicola di quel tempo, che a lungo andare perde in dettagli ma rimane sempre riconoscibile.

"La camera ha poca luce

E poi è molto più stretta di come da giù immaginavo"

diceva Ligabue in Bambolina e Barracuda, e devo dire che la descrizione corrisponde quasi del tutto.

Questa cucina è una stanza dalla forma rettangolare, ma non troppo lunga. Un rettangolo un po' tozzo ma comunque non Umberto.

Al centro un grande tavolo con piano in marmo grigio la fa da padrone, sopra di esso una fruttiera in vetro verde, sempre piena.

Ai lati del tavolo (punto di vista dalla porta d'entrata) rispettivamente:

A sinistra

subito dietro la porta un piccolo angolo credenza zeppo di libri di cucina (sopra), incarti di vari prodotti, sacchetti di carta per il pane (nel mezzo) e due piccole ante contenenti ogni sorta di attrezzo quali chiavi, cacciaviti o anche prodotti spray tipo insetticida e simili che ovunque stan bene tranne che in una cucina (sotto). Superato questo angolo il frigorifero, un vecchio frigorifero incassato ricoperto dall'anta in legno, seguito dal piano cottura, un doppio lavello e alla fine della parete una delle due finestre.

A destra

subito all'altezza del gomito inizia quello che è un mobile angolare in legno anch'esso con piano di marmo grigio che fa il paio con suo fratello The Table, che proseguirà sino all'altro capo della stanza.

La parte sotto è composta di semplici ante che nascondono il loro contenuto fra vecchie riviste, la stecca di MS Bionde e attrezzi da cucito in capo, il posto dove viene tenuto il pane della giornata nell'angolo e poi (perdonate la ridondanza) lungo la parte lunga tovaglie, tovagliette, tovaglioli, pentole, bicchieri (che non erano li da ieri), insalatiere, e altri suppellettili TASSATIVAMENTE DA NON USARE MAI.

Sopra questo mobile vi sono diverse situazioni, anche abbastanza diverse fra loro. Sempre in prossimità del gomito, qualora si stesse entrando, è visibile con la coda dell'occhio un posacenere blu dell'Aperol cui da che ho memoria ha sempre ospitato al suo interno un mazzo di chiavi del quale ho sempre ignorato quali porte avrebbe potuto aprire, un elastico giallo, una graffetta e una 200 lire.

A fianco immancabile è la combo Sorrisi&Canzoni + rivista di gossip a piacere. Ma più ci si addentra con lo sguardo e più la situazione si fa complessa.

L'angolo viene dominato da una tv a tubo catodico della Mivar (top orgoglio italiano non ironicamente), con lo schermo bombato che mangia buona parte delle barre dell'energia in quasi tutti i picchiaduro che era possibile giocare su ps2 da li a pochi anni.

Dietro questo Golia ai fosfori osserviamo un buco nero nel quale nemmeno la luce fa in tempo a venire assorbita, non lo raggiunge proprio.

Letteralmente la camera dei segreti, nella camera.

Si dice vi sia stato ritrovato di tutto dietro a quel monolito grigio opaco, da svariate sorprese di ovetti kinder a un centrotavola che sembrava essere andato perduto per sempre.

Li giaceva anche un misterioso contenitore grigio, in metallo, che ricordava la forma di quelli che si appendono in doccia per poggiarvi i vari shampoo, bagnoschiuma e simili. Forse il suo scopo in origine era proprio quello, ma poi qualche sconvolgimento spazio-temporale ha fatto si che venisse dimenticato in quell'anfratto nascosto.

Sempre dietro al televisore, oltre al suo cavo di alimentazione se si disponevano di arti lunghi a sufficienza ci si poteva addentrare fino a scoprire sia ben tre prese a muro più una spina volante, anche lei senza padrone.

Un cavo di alimentazione si, ma per chi?

Se ci si chiede chi controlla i controllori allora sarebbe giusto anche chiedersi cosa alimenta l'alimentazione? Who watches the Watchmen?

Superata la Notte Eterna ritorna la luce, e a fianco del televisore spunta un cesto di vimini con al suo interno vari giochi e fumetti miei fra cui macchinine, volumi di Topolino, quaderni di disegni, pennarelli e cosi via.

Accanto vi è quella che per forma e scopo risulta esser a tutti gli effetti un'anfora. Non dell'avidità ma quasi. "Quindi chi sei tu per giudicare?" direbbe qualcuno a riguardo.

La sua forma ricorda una donna di Willendorf per le sue rotondità  che suggeriscono fertilità  e abbondanza. E di abbondanza in quell'anfora ce n'era, sicché era stata riempita fino all'orlo di documenti, ricevute, scontrini, un blocchetto di assegni, collane, bracciali, orecchini, alle volte anche monete. Ovviamente era imperativo il "LASCIA STARE NON TOCCARE".

E noi senza toccare, limitandoci a guardarla in tutta la sua bianca e lucente ceramica, gettiamo l'occhio (e non il cuore) oltre l'ostacolo per incontrare un piccolo forno a microonde che termina l'allestimento del piano.

Fra il piano e il muro vi è un angusto spazietto di 1 metro circa, nel quale viene confinata una rossa sedia da giardino.

Quello che per anni ha rappresentato un angolo strategico in quanto era l'angolo del termosifone, luogo di sollievo per i lunghi inverni passati col Game Boy fra le mani, a cercare sia calore che un angolo illuminato in epoca pre GBA SP.

Ah, che male al collo.

A parete troviamo una composizione di pensili che segue il perimetro del mobile di cui sotto, anche questo pieno di situazioni abbastanza varie dietro alle sue ante marroni.

Anche qui si nascondono servizi di piatti e bicchieri che si e no si vedevano a natale, alcuni calici "griffati" di varie bevande che si servivano nel bar ma la sezione più pittoresca rimane quella perpendicolare al tv, che precedentemente abbiamo battezzato come Notte Eterna.

Anta ad angolo, che si apre piegandosi su se stessa rivelando due mensole dalla conformazione quasi simile ad una casa delle bambole. Mancava solo una piccola scala per rendere comunicanti primo piano e piano terra. Videocassette, nastri vergini, palette di trucchi, altre collane e gioiellini fra bigiotteria e non sono solo alcuni dei generi che si possono trovare all'interno. E, come sotto, un infinita oscurità.

"Putèl, andom?"

Le parole di mio nonno che mi chiama per andare con loro,

spengo il gbc dopo aver segnato la password e inizio a fantasticare su cosa troverò poi nel Basement, del quale ho visto solo la schermata di selezione del livello.[continua nei commenti]

#racconti #flusso di coscienza #immagini tumblr #images and words #images #raccontare #in memoriam #memoriaspoeticas

[thatstudyblrontea]

23 books for 2023 📖

I was tagged by @booksnpictures and @leer-reading-lire to share 23 books I want to read this year – thank you!!! It's taken... some time to write them down during exams, but I made it. I'm skipping rereads and <20 pages stories that I plan on reading, but I'm including the books I've already read this year, my Substack subscriptions and the entries for the Tackle Your Classics reading challenge. Books from 14th down are really just books that have been waiting years in my shelves, and really deserve some attention!

Demon - Mikhail Lermontov

Carmilla - Sheridan Le Fanu

The 40 Days of Mussa Dagh - Franz Werfel

The Graveyard Book - Neil Gaiman

The Showstone - Glenn Cooper

Daisy Miller - Henry James

Benito Cereno - Herman Melville

Dracula - Bram Stoker

The Charterhouse of Parma - Stendhal

Bartleby, the Scrivener - Herman Melville

Young Goodman Brown - Nathaniel Hawthorne

Babylon Revisited - Francis S. Fitzgerald

A Rose for Emily - William Faulkner

Not My Father's Son - Alan Cumming

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

A Day in 2889 of an American Journalist - Jules Verne

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Saenz

The Time Machine - H. G. Wells

The Fall of Gondolin - J.R.R. Tolkien

From the Earth to the Moon - Jules Verne

Shakespeare Stories vol. 2 - Leon Garfield

*book I'll have to read for my thesis n. 1*

*book I'll have to read for my thesis n. 2*

I'll return to this in 6 months, to see where I'm at and how many of these books I've actually read (probably a few – I'm not good at planning my readings in advance). I'm tagging @problematicprocrastinator @the---hermit @studyingfilms (if you haven't been tagged already!!) and anyone else who wants to participate!

#tag game #tagged #23 books for 2023 #bookblr #books #tackleyourclassics2023

[jananabananawithnopeel]

Top 20 des fics Kaamelott par word count

J'ai vu une vidéo et ça m'a donné envie de faire une petite expérimentation.

C'est aussi un petit pied de nez à tous les médisants qui ont dit un jour quelque chose comme "lire des fics, c'est pas de la vrai lecture, tu ferais mieux de lire des romans".

Donc combinant deux choses que j'aime énormément, la lecture et Kaamelott, j'ai fais un petit comparatif par word count des fic du fandom et des livres les plus populaires du monde.

C'est aussi une occasion de remercier tous les content creator de Kaamelott qui payent de leur temps, de leur larmes et de leur tripes pour nous offrir fics, gif, artwork et tout le reste. Vous êtes géniaux, merci pour tout.

--

C’est juste une liste sans prétention, je ne vise à fâcher, vexer ou juger personne, mais j'ai trouvé ça intéressant d'autant plus que j'ai lu la plupart des livres et/ou des fics de la liste.

J’espère vraiment que cette petite expérience fera réaliser à qui voudra à quel point les fanfictions peuvent être importantes. Rappelez vous que c’est gratuit et que les content creator ne sont pas rémunérés, alors soyez gentil et patient avec eux. Et surtout, please please please, lâchez leur des coms/kudos pour montrer à quel point leurs travail est apprécié.

Il n'est inclus dans cette liste que des fics dont le statut est marqué comme fini. Donc dsl mais L’Omertà, Parce que c'est vous. Parce que c'est toi., Les couleurs primaires ou même Solivagant ne seront pas dans ici même si ce sont de sacré morceaux. (update possible)

Aussi, le word count est approximatif et peut varier à quelques millièmes de mots près. J'ai essayé de mettre une oeuvre différente même quand le word count était très proche.

Je ne connais pas tout le monde dans le monde, donc si j’ai oublié de tag un(e) auteur(e) ou fait des erreurs, n’hésitez pas à me le dire.

--

Un Premier Pas, le Reste Suivra de TrueRed avec 307,340 mots et 40 chapitres est aussi long que Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell de Susanna Clarke paru en 2004 (308,931 mots - 782 pages)

Le destin des Pendragon de Laudys @laudys83 avec 101,183 mots et 50 chapitres est aussi long que To Kill a Mockingbird de Harper Lee paru en 1960 (100,388 mots - 281 pages)

Vingt ans de galère, dix ans d'absence et ce qui s'ensuit de Eilisande avec 79,711 mots et 19 chapitres est aussi long que Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?  de Philip K. Dick paru en 1968 (79,360 mots - 210 pages)

Livre VII Ce qu'il advint du royaume de Logres de PlumeDeChien avec 76,329 mots et 5 chapitres est aussi long que Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone de J. K. Rowling paru en 1997 (77,325 mots - 223 pages)

Le monde de Demain de Yumeka-chan @yumeka-chan avec 75,143 mots et 32 chapitres est aussi long que Frankenstein de Mary Shelley paru en 1821 (74,800 mots - 280 pages)

L'Equinoxe de Feelix_feels avec 70,467 mots et 15 chapitres est aussi long que The Woman Warrior de Maxine Hong Kingston paru en 1976 (70,957 mots - 209 pages)

καιρός de Kaantt @kaantt avec 69,174 mots et 31 chapitres est aussi long que The Adventures of Tom Sawyer de Mark Twain paru en 1876 (69,066 mots - 308 pages)

Sabotage de Feelix_feels avec 55,965 mots et 25 chapitres est aussi long que A Wizard of Earthsea de Ursula K. Le Guin, The Earthsea Cycle, paru en 1968 (56,533 mots - 205 pages)

Dux Orcadum Insularum de Kaantt @kaantt avec 53,647 mots et 30 chapitres est aussi long que The Hours de Michael Cunningham paru en 1998 (54,243 mots - 230 pages)

Rubrum de Aledane @kabbal avec 52,864 mots et 45 chapitres est aussi long que The Voyage of the Dawn Treader de C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia, paru en 1952 (53,960 mots - 223 pages)

La Rançon de la Discorde de unepierreincandescente @gerceval avec 52,652 mot et 29 chapitres est aussi long que The Silver Chair de C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia, paru en 1953 (51,022 mots - 217 pages)

La chasse à l'hydre de TrueRed avec 47,723 mots et 12 chapitres est aussi long que The Horse and His Boy de C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia, paru en 1954 (48,029 mots - 199 pages)

Les yeux de Perceval de Senshikyohi avec 44,759 mots et 3 chapitres est aussi long que The Tombs of Atuan de Ursula K. Le Guin, The Earthsea Cycle, paru en 1971 (45,939 mote - 163 pages)

 Storgê de Pampelune avec 43,954 mots et 23 chapitres est aussi long que The Last Battle de C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia, paru en paru en 1953 (43,333 mots - 184 pages)

Amours (é)perdus de Laudys @laudys83 avec 35,203 mots et 15 chapitres est aussi long que L'Étranger de Albert Camus, paru en 1942 (36,014 mots - 159 pages)

L'Enfant de la Lune de Yamane avec 33,581 mots et 5 chapitres est aussi long que Old Yeller de Fred Gipson paru en 1957 (35,978 mots et 191 pages)

ἔραμαι de Kaantt @kaantt avec 32,185 mots et 47 chapitres est aussi long que The Time Machine de H.G. Wells, paru en 1895 (32,149 mots - 84 pages)

En quête et contre tout de Saecookie @saecookie avec 30,567 mots et 6 chapitres est aussi long que Charlie and the Chocolate Factory de Roald Dahl paru en 1964 (30,944 mots - 176 pages)

Le soupir de l'Orcanien de MidoriMars avec 28,508 et 15 chapitres est aussi long que Animal Farm de George Orwell paru en 1945 (29,966 mots - 112 pages)

Shooting Stars de Feelix_feels avec 28,474 mots et 1 chapitre est aussi long que Of Mice and Men de John Steinbeck paru en 1937 (29,160 mots - 107 pages)

--

Quelques randoms fact :

Il faut en moyenne environ 33 minutes pour lire 10,000 mots

Une phrase fais en moyenne entre 15 et 20 mots

Le roman francais le plus long jamais écrit est Artamène ou le Grand Cyrus de Madeleine et Georges de Scudéry avec 2,1 million de mots en 10 volumes

Le livre le plus cher à été vendu pour 30,8 million dollars en 1994 (50,2 million de nos jours) (Codex Leicester de Leonardo Da Vinci acheté par Bill Gates)

La phrase la plus longue revient à Marcel Proust dans Sodome et Gomorrhe avec 856 mots

#kaamelott #word count #index #Fanfiction #upthebaguette #ao3 #writing

[alain-keler]

Dimanche 22 octobre 2023.

Manifestation pro palestinienne place de la République à Paris. Des médias donnent le chiffre de 15.000 participants. Beaucoup de jeunes et de femmes.

 Je n’écrirais pas grand chose sur cette manifestation, sauf que rien n’a été mentionné sur les assassinats d’israéliens et étrangers en Israël le samedi 7 octobre sauf sur un écriteau ou l’on pouvait lire : « vous avez pleuré 40 faux bébés israéliens, où êtes-vous pour 1000 enfants palestiniens tués ? » C’est un peu léger comme compte rendu de l’attaque du Hamas, un groupe terroriste qui sème la terreur à Gaza depuis 2007.

Les assassinats des israéliens ont été rayés de la carte.

Maintenant ce qui se passe à Gaza avant l’offensive terrestre de l’armée israélienne est épouvantable pour la population civile, mais force est de rappeler que le Hamas cache ses armes au milieu des civils.

Je déplore tous ces morts palestiniens, comme israéliens, ces destructions. Les civils, comme toujours, pâtissent de cette situation. 

Le problème palestinien ne sera résolu que lorsque la Cisjordanie leur reviendra comme pays, et que les colons israéliens, qui n’ont rien à envier aux fanatiques du Hamas, iront s’installer ailleurs, et que le gouvernement israélien se débarrassera de ses ministres colons et religieux. 

Cela fait beaucoup, mais il n’y a pas d’autre choix que la solution a deux états.

Lorsque Itzhak  Rabin était premier ministre, il y avait une atmosphère de paix. Sa mort a précipité la région vers l’abime.

Et ce n’est pas Netanyahou qui va résoudre la situation. Il est plus occupé à garder le pouvoir pour ne pas être jugé pour corruption.

[lire-casander]

i hear your name in every word i say

surprise! i bet you didn't expect me to post today, did you? well, @wtfuckevenknows @moviegeek03 and @laelipoo did (because you're such enablers and you know it!), but i wanted to keep this as much a secret and a surprise as i could because i didn't know whether or not i could be able to post this in time.

special thanks go to @morganaspendragonss and @de-ligts for the fastest beta-reading in the whole world. you guys rock!

if you're reading on a computer, please roll over the spanish texts to find the translation. if you aren't and need translation, please let me know and i will do my best to come back to you with it asap!

the title and quote from last part of this story come from hanson's song every word i say. but there are more songs by them that have inspired me to write this story, especially underneath, a song to sing, save me, never let go, and with you in your dreams. if you've been around long enough, you probably know by now that they're my comfort band, and they've got a song for every single emotion out there. name one emotion, i can easily quote a hanson song back at you.

you will also find quotes from ronen and rafael's exclusive interview with entertainment weekly.

i hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as i've enjoyed (and cried) writing it. i started this without having watched the finale, so at some point it might be a bit off, but no matter what, this is what i would have liked the wedding and the vows to go. just like i did a couple of years back, this story is written for me. i've tried to convey all i felt while watching this season, discovering new sides of my favorite characters and facing some things, such as grief and pain and self-growth alongside them. sometimes a person needs to do something that's deeply and intrinsically for themselves.

this is one of those times.

i love you all. thanks for being here with me this time around, and here's for another revolution around the sun!

i hear your name in every word i say

masterlist of fics here

sitting all alone in this place

even though we're here face to face

there is nothing gone

but there's something wrong

can't you see that i'm stuck here underneath

TK never thought he’d be in this situation on his wedding day. If he’s being honest with himself, four years ago he wouldn’t have even believed he was worthy of love, much less worthy of being loved so much that someone might want to tie the knot with him. But it’s not the wedding he’s worried about. They’ve postponed everything on Carlos’ request, and they will find another venue and another date that’s not so close to Gabriel’s passing, so it doesn’t hold bad memories for Carlos and his family. He knows Carlos asking for a bit of time and space doesn’t mean he doesn’t love TK anymore; he’s grown confident enough in the love they share to be aware of that. But there’s more to it than just Carlos dealing with his feelings, and TK can’t help it.

He’s worried about Carlos. That’s what true love, soulmate-level love, does to a person.

When there’s an illness, the family has some time to get used to the idea. Not to accept it, because nobody’s wired to accept death without fighting it. But the little time the illness grants gives a little perspective, precious minutes to say goodbye, to honor that person. But when death falls upon people like a stone thrown into a river, there’s no time for anything but crying, no space for anything but anger.

TK knows it well.

Carlos hasn’t been sleeping at all. TK gets it — when his mother passed, he’d fallen into unhealthier patterns than not sleeping. But it’s one thing not to sleep a wink at night and then fall asleep briefly on the couch, and a completely different thing to not want to sleep. Gabriel’s loss is still recent, merely hours, not even a full day; it’s expected that his family won’t be able to function properly yet. But Carlos’ attitude is different. Carlos isn’t just angry.

Carlos is plotting vengeance.

And it’s not that TK doesn’t get it. He does; oh, boy, does he. It’s that he knows the toll it will take on Carlos’ soul — Carlos, who has never intentionally harmed anyone, is now planning an intervention, thinking about going full Rambo on some suspect they’re not even sure is the one behind the shooting. TK doesn’t know how to help his fiancé without causing more damage that could probably be permanent. He’s aware of the stubbornness of grief and the insanity of mourning.

Neither suits Carlos, but TK can’t do anything about it without breaking the trust that he’s promised to keep.

keep reading on ao3

#lire's 40 to the 40s #offically 40 #woah i'm old #tarlos #tk strand/carlos reyes #carlos reyes/tk strand #andrea reyes #tk strand #carlos reyes #angst #mentions of grieving #mentions of death #spoilers for season 4 #spoilers for s04e17 #spoilers for s04e18 #911ls #911 ls #911 lone star #happy birthday to me!

[trucsdemec]

🥃🌟 Découvrez le Secret Bien Gardé des Caraïbes ! EMBARGO ESPLENDIDO, un rhum exceptionnel à 40%, brise toutes les conventions pour vous offrir une expérience gustative unique. 🏝️✨

🔥 Un assemblage inédit de trois types de rhums jamais réunis auparavant. 🥇 Médaille d'or au Concours Mondial de Bruxelles 2017. 🍹 Idéal en dégustation ou pour concocter des cocktails sensationnels.

👉 Plongez dans ce monde d'arômes exotiques et de saveurs équilibrées. L'article complet vous attend pour une escapade sensorielle inoubliable. 🤩📖

Lire maintenant ➡️

#RhumCaribéen #EMBARGOESPLENDIDO #ExpérienceGustative

[republique-francaise-officiel]

La BD francophone du jour est...

Date de parution en album : 1997

Numéro et série : n°1 de l'Elève Ducobu

Pourquoi c'est une excellente BD :

Le premier de la série, une institution ! On y retrouve pour la première fois Latouche, Léonie Gratin, Ducobu... mais aussi le squelette qui parle, Néness, les magazines Rik Spoutnik, et toute la smala

Rien de meilleur pour faire relativiser les premiers de classe qui se plaignent de leurs voisins et inspirer (mal) les mauvais élèves

Tranche de vie, un format meilleur que celui de l'histoire en 40 planches pour tous ceux qui ont du mal à se concentrer ou n'ont pas le temps de lire tout d'un coup.

#la bd du jour #ducobu

[petit-atelier-de-poesie]

NOTE DE LECTURE :  Feu. Maria Pourchet. 2021

J'attendais avec ardeur de lire ce roman de Maria Pourchet qui vient de sortir en poche, pourtant quelle déception... je suis restée froide. 

Evidemment le lecture fut dévorante, soutenue par le style rythmé et cynique de l'autrice, c'est d'époque. Les chapitres s'enchainent, alternant les voix de Laure, 40 ans, mariée, mère de famille et maitre de conférence plus que de son destin, et de Clément, 50 ans, célibataire, banquier et maitre de son chien plus que de sa vie, l'une et l'autre consumés par l'illusion de la passion. Chacun espère de l'autre quelque chose qu'il ne peut pas lui donner, c'est bien là l'enfer du couple comme de la solitude. Pour l'une, les mensonges et les stratégies ; pour l'autre, le silence et la fuite. Pour tous les deux, le Feu au cul et/ou de paille est un enjeu de vie et de mort, une bombe à retardement. 

C'est tristement que j'ai achevé ce livre, avec aussi la mort du chien (je gâche la fin mais j'ai pensé à Kundera et L'insoutenable légèreté de l'être), sans plus aucune tromperie sur Feu l'amour.

#note de lecture #maria pourchet #romance #désillusion

[whencyclopedfr]

Isaïe

Isaïe était l'un des principaux prophètes de l'ancien Israël. Isaïe signifie en hébreu "Dieu est le salut". Isaïe est l'un des plus longs livres prophétiques (66 chapitres). Datant du 8e siècle avant notre ère, il fut mis à jour au moins deux fois, aux 7e et 6e siècles avant notre ère (périodes babylonienne et perse) et peut-être à l'époque hellénistique (du 4e au 1er siècle av. J.-C.). Les érudits ont parfois appelé ces sections Proto-Isaïe (chapitres 1-39), Deutéro-Isaïe (40-55) et Trito-Isaïe (56-66).

Lire la suite...

#Histoire #Isaïe #Christianisme #Bible

[der-papero]

I paperi campani appassionati dei Cure mi arricreano! Io però non ci vado a sentirli live perché già Disintegration per me non è più Cure, mò teng paur che si pure sunassero tutt Pornography aropp 40 ann è addiventat sul nu showbisness e m pass a magia ☹️

Buonasera Anon Arricreato,

in teoria hai ragione, anche se per me non sono stati più Cure da Wild Mood Swings, voglio dire, ma che avimm fatt, 'e canzuncell pe' criatur? E la cosa ancora più grave è che oggi, per me, 50 euro so’ ‘na fumat ‘e sigarett, senza offesa per chi mi legge, ma all’epoca 20.000 lire erano un signor importo, e quando tutto felice acchioccai i soldi per andare a comprare, al mio negozio di dischi a Piazza Garibaldi a Napoli dell’epoca, non quella rifatta di oggi, dietro a quelli che vendevano i pezzotti e i cellulari arrubbati, talmente favoloso quel negozio che mi sembrava quello di Ollivander a Diagon Alley, la mia prima cascetta origginale dei Cure (manc ‘u ciddì, la cascetta, che il lettore nun ‘u tenev), insomma, c’a vulev chiava’ n’faccie a Robbert.

Però poi sai cosa, Anon? Che l’amore durato tantissimi anni uno lo misura con una cosa sola, ovvero col semplice fatto che sei grato che quella persona abbia fatto parte della tua vita, in qualsiasi modo sia stato, e questa è una cosa che resiste a tutto, a Disintegration per te, a Wild Mood Swing per me.

I Cure sono stati una parte fondamentale della mia vita, erano le mie uscite serali con Cristina, erano i miei studi col mio maestro di Linux, una persona stronza come poche ma fondamentale per quello che sono diventato poi, erano quei momenti dove, quando uscivo da Ingegneria a Piazzale Tecchio e prendevo la metro da Fuorigrotta per tornare a casa, mi sedevo sempre affianco ad una ragazza che non ho mai conosciuto, capelli lunghi, castani, zaino dell’Invicta, lei li ascoltava a volume alto e io li sentivo attraverso la sua cuffia, per non parlare della mia prima vita a Milano post-laurea, insomma, in ogni momento importante loro sono stati con me, e allora sai che ti dico? Che sì, Robert ‘u sta’ a fa’ pecché le serv’n ‘e sord e nun l’abbast ‘a pension, però io andrei ad ascoltarlo anche se decidesse di fare solo la cover di Wannabì delle Spais Gherls.