#operation theater instruments

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. This chapter contains medical trauma in an emergency room, as well as pregnancy loss.

I was going to do my usual thing and post this tomorrow, but i felt too bad making yall wait so you get a one-two punch of pain today (on the bright side, and i promise this, things start to go uphill from here, if you could believe it <3)

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 16

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The darkened operating theater’s focused silence was sharply interrupted with the sound of ringing coming from the phone tucked away in the circulating nurse’s back pocket.  It was very obviously from Law’s phone, but the entire surgical crew kept their heads lowered and honed in on their work.  It was quite difficult to break your stride when someone’s body was cut completely open and their beating heart was framed by a metal cage keeping the layers of fat and muscle from closing.  The nurse was checking oxygen levels of the patient and simply let the phone continue to ring.  No one said a word.

The ringing stopped.

Then it started again.

“Just let it go,” Law mumbled.  He couldn’t be bothered, not when he was quite literally inside someone’s heart.  A mitral valve replacement required just as much care as any other open heart procedure, despite being a relatively easy operation for his skilled hands.

The ringing stopped.  The nurse stepped away from the monitor and made a circle around the team, checking instruments, patient vitals, and needed materials.

Then the ringing started again.  This time, a few glances were tossed around the room by the attending surgeons and nurses, but Law kept his head down, neck-deep in his work.  The nurse pulled the phone out of her back pocket and assessed the screen.  Your photo and name were displayed.

“Doctor, it’s your wife,” she announced.

“End the call and text her that I’ll get back to her when I can.”

Following his instructions precisely, the nurse tapped the red End Call button, opened her doctor’s phone with his passcode from their previous go at this very situation, and navigated to his text messages, pulling up your conversation.  She had to suppress a smile at the photo that was set for your contact- a photo of you and what she assumed to be your dog, both grinning brightly at the camera.  She began to text.

Hi, this is Doctor Trafalgar’s circulating nurse again!  He’s currently in the middle of an operation but he’ll call you back when he’s done!

She was about to put the device back in her pocket when it buzzed with another incoming text message.

Wifey

This is Law’s friend Shachi.  Idk operating room etiquette but his wife was taken to the emergency room from her job, im here with her and another friend.  Can you relay the message somehow?  Thanks.

The unsuspecting nurse felt her heartbeat grow anxious.  She herself didn’t really know how to properly announce that information to her supervising doctor, let alone the entire room of fellow technicians and nurses surrounding a patient with his chest fully exposed and heart cut open.

“Everything good?” the tired voice of the lead doctor called from his position, slightly hunched over the body under the bright lights and protective sheet.  He had stepped back only mere centimeters to let an attending nurse go in with sutures.

“Uhm…” the circulating nurse felt her palms grow sweaty beneath her blue medical gloves.  “It was one of your friends, your wife is in the emergency room, apparently.”

Law felt his blood run cold.  His head shot upward to look at the poor nurse who was now unfortunately involved in this, staring at her with wide, golden eyes below his magnifying hood.  He must have looked profoundly stupid partnered with his surgical mask and bright blue hair net.  “What did he say?”

“That was it, he just said to call him back as soon as he could,” she responded nervously.

“Doctor, the surgery’s almost completed if you–” one of his technicians began before being interrupted by the doctor.

“No, I’ll never leave the operating room until the procedure is finished.  Don’t worry about me, continue your focus on the patient.”  But for the first time in Law’s entire professional life, his focus was everywhere but the patient.  Why were you in the emergency room?  Why were you taken from work?  What in the world had happened?

Were you having another miscarriage?

No matter how hard he tried, he could not bring his focus back to the unconscious patient on the table in front of him.  He felt like a ghost out of his own body, merely observing his rigid frame standing amongst his colleagues, frozen in time and place, glued to the cold tiled floor.  Petrified.  Chills were creeping up and down his vertebrae, spreading out to the very tips of his fingers, making him wish he could run.  Run as fast as he could, run to the next building to where the emergency department was and run through every room to find you.  He needed to find you.

The surgery could not have ended sooner.  As soon as he was given the clear that the patient was in the recovery ward, he was sprinting with all of his might through the halls of the cardiac ward, out through the lobby, and into the bright summer sun that seemed to be mocking him in his frantic state.  His lab coat trailed behind him and passing nurses and patients jumped out of his way as he barreled down the bright sidewalk of the hospital complex, passing small bundles of blooming flowers that almost shook with how fast his feet were carrying him.  He felt like his heart might evacuate from his chest, or that he would surely lose his lunch with the stress of the unknown.

He rounded a corner and entered the emergency wing through a back entrance using his ID, sprinting to the nearest nurse’s desk barely catching his breath.  The young woman behind the counter, caught off guard by his sudden burst into the space, was staring at the man with wide, blue eyes, her fingers frozen mid-typing on her mechanical keyboard.

“T… Trafalgar.  Where,” was all he was able to gasp out as he clung to the counter catching his breath.  He never was much of an athlete.

The young nurse hurriedly picked through the screen of her computer monitor.  “Room 114.”

“Thank you,” he wheezed as he pushed himself off again, this time speed walking through the large corridors of the emergency room, not wanting to cause an issue with the attending doctors.  He passed by empty gurneys and folded wheelchairs, idle medicine carts and nurses chatting with one another, another ordinary day for them.  Room 114 seemed so far away.

Finally, the number appeared on the wall to his right.  The door was wide open, multiple bodies hunched over the bed.  Shachi and Ikkaku bolted upright from their chairs, mouths open about to speak to Law, but he pushed past them and into the crowd of nurses.

Your wrists were strapped to both handles of the bed you occupied, your eyes squeezed shut and an oxygen mask was forcefully strapped to your face, so tight your skin was visibly pinching through the hard elastic straps.  The hose extending from the mask and into an on-board oxygen monitoring machine seemed so foreign on your beautiful face.  A few heart rate electrodes were placed on your chest, picking up a well above average heartbeat.  Your feet were weakly flailing under the covers as multiple nurses had their hands on you, assessing your blood pressure, your oxygen, hands on your abdomen, your legs, your breasts.

Law saw red.

“BACK THE FUCK UP,” he shouted, finally drawing attention to himself from the surrounding nurses.  Hospital etiquette could fuck off for all he cared.  His wife had her wrists bound.  “GET AWAY FROM HER.”

“Doctor, please,” a man from beside your bed rushed forward toward the cardiac surgeon, placing his hands on his shoulders.  “Please don’t yell-”

“Why the hell is she tied to the bed?!” he demanded, every fiber of his being forcing him to maintain at least some level of composure.  Behind him, Ikkaku grabbed Shachi’s wrist and dragged him out of the room, not wanting to put their friend under any more stress.

“She was thrashing in the ambulance, we needed to restrain her,” the male nurse explained, attempting to push Law back from your bed.

Law looked past the nurse’s shoulder and screamed once more.  “I SAID GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER.”

A much larger male nurse stood up from his place around your bed.  When he stepped aside, his legs revealed a bright red biohazard container on the ground, a mere glimpse of the pants you were wearing that morning peeking into Law’s field of view.  

“Doctor, calm down or I’m going to call security,” the bigger man threatened, stepping toward Law and giving his shoulders a firm shove backwards.  He was built less like your average nurse and more like a basketball power forward, and the force of his hands against Law’s shoulders sent the black-haired surgeon stumbling backward.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he seethed.  “What kind of nurse ties a patient to the bed when they’re panicking, huh?!  Is that what they’re teaching you ingrates?!  Tying a panicking woman to a bed to keep her still?!”

He forced his way past the larger nurse, much to the man’s discontent, and pushed through the other employees surrounding your bed.  His first action was to loosen the straps of the oxygen mask on your face, giving your skin room to breathe.  His deft hands ripped the velcro blood pressure cuff off of your bicep, tossing it back to a nurse who had stepped away, shocked by his actions.  The oxygen monitor on your finger was next, followed by the restraint on your left hand, which fell limp next to your body.  Your wedding ring was missing.

“Where’s the ring?” Law asked, forcing the blood oxygen monitor into the hands of the same nurse who took the cuff from him.

“What ring?” the basketball nurse asked, visibly angry with the doctor’s intrusion.

“The wedding ring on her left hand.  Where the hell is it?”

A very small, meek voice piped up from across your bed.  “It was removed in the ambulance because the paramedic was afraid she’d hurt herself with it.”

“Hurt herself, or hurt you?” snarled Law referring to the confused gaggle of nurses that had come into contact with his wife, already fed up with whatever excuses they were giving him.  If he was more rational, he could argue that they were simply doing their jobs, but even from his standpoint, what they were doing to you was clearly too much.  “I want every single one of you out of this room, and I want an attending doctor here immediately.  I need one of you to find that damn ring and bring it back to me.  Don’t make me ask twice.”

A few nurses took the opportunity to scramble from the room, visibly frazzled by the surgeon’s fit of rage.  The two male nurses from prior, however, stood their ground.

“You’re not in our department, doc, I’m afraid we can’t take orders from you.”  The larger nurse crossed his arms over his chest in defiance as Law stood between your body and the man.

“Then take my directions as the family member of a patient.  Get.  The hell.  Out.”  If Law were to see himself, he’d have absolutely no idea where this authoritative side of him came from.  He was never one for verbal or physical confrontation, more used to shutting down and bottling in his feelings than displaying them outright, and never would he ever think to get in the face of an extended colleague, but now was not the time for rational thought.

The first nurse to put his hands on Law placed a hand on the shoulder of his fellow nurse, pulling him toward the door.  The larger man finally relented and followed his coworker out into the hallway and around the corner out of sight.  Silence had finally settled over the room and Law rushed to the other side of your bed to unstrap your right wrist from the metal barrier.  Your heart rate on the monitor was slowly starting to even out, but was still maintaining a fairly erratic pace.  His new position allowed him to get a glimpse into the red biohazard container that was improperly placed next to your bed.  Your pants, the ones you had purchased when out with your friends a few weeks prior and that you were excited to finally wear to work, were completely soaked with bright red blood.  The rest of your clothing was in the bucket, specks of blood on your socks, and the lower portion of your flowy summer shirt.  He shoved the bucket out of the way with the ball of his shoe, forcing down the nausea that crawled up his throat.

He placed his hand on your forehead, leaning over you, his face contorted in an agony that mirrored your own.  

Your eyes slowly opened, your body completely spent and exhausted.  He barely wanted to know what kind of ambulance ride you had endured that had rendered your usually-energetic and upbeat form into a shell of your former self.  Your irises were filled with sorrow, and your eyes immediately began welling with tears at the sight of your husband standing above you.  You gasped into the oxygen mask, almost choking on the breath of cold, spicy air that flowed through the hose and forced its way into your body.  Law was quick to pull the mask off, breaking every form of protocol he was familiar with.  He knew his outburst and actions easily risked his integrity as a high profile surgeon, but as he took in the sight of you, completely burnt out, humiliated, scratched up from the binding on your wrists and straps from the mask on your face, he couldn’t find the time to care about his integrity anymore.

Finally free from the confines of the mask, you sucked in a shaky breath, heavy, salty tears flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall.  You weakly reached a hand up to his, and he took it in both of his warm, calloused ones, clenching you tightly, funneling all of his love into you.

“Law…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out more like a croak.  He felt his heart shatter, splintering into toxic pieces of fiberglass that ripped at his flesh, that stung the soul and pierced the very heart he gave to you.  Your lips were violently quivering as your body shook with suppressed sobs, not having any more energy to scream.  All you were able to do was mouth the words, ‘I’m sorry.”

Law’s resolve shattered.  Whatever was left of his pride, his dignity, his status as your strong, unmoving, supportive husband, was fractured.  He crumpled above you, his legs shaking as his head fell to your trembling chest, his hands that held your own remaining close to his own lungs as the tears he had wanted to cry for the past two years of trying for a baby finally escaped from his eyes.  He sniffled, snot rapidly pooling in his sinuses as a result of his tears, but he continued to hold your trembling hand in his as he bit his lip so hard it stung, the scorching hot tears leaving his eyes feeling like trails of magma down his skin.  The smell of hospital sheets did not belong on you.  

The world seemed to implode in on your weak form in the hospital bed, your husband’s defeated body hunched over your own.

A crackled, broken sob exited his lungs.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Alla Nazimova (A Doll's House, Camille, Salomé)—HOT as hell. GAY as hell. TALENTED as hell. Producer, director, writer, actress. A silent era superstar who is credited with having coined the term "sewing circle" as a code-word for gatherings of lesbian and bisexual women. Has been called "the founding mother of Sapphic Hollywood" and was the owner/operator of the Garden of Alla Hotel in West Hollywood, which she bought in 1919 and sold in 1928 after deciding she wanted to go back to Broadway. In addition to starring opposite Valentino in Camille, she also had an affair with BOTH of his wives (Jean Acker and Natacha Rambova). In her day, she was one of the most influential women in the business.

Olive Thomas (The Flapper)— There’s something about her that’s just so beautifully genuine, like you could reach out through the screen and touch her hand. She was a showgirl-turned-Hollywood-star who died a mysterious death, and now she haunts the New Amsterdam Theater. I’ve actually met her ghost— she seems pretty sweet!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Alla Nazimova:

She was a proud lesbian, she was a director, she was artsy and experimental, she was instrumental in the rise to fame of Rudolph Valentino, she had the worlds biggest strap on energy

"Nazimova was primarily a star during the silent film era, and her career in film started when she was almost forty. She was openly bisexual, and was engaged in two lavender marriages during her life while she carried on relationships with women (including at least one, and possibly two, of Rudolph Valentino's wives). She was brilliant and an autodidact - when she first moved to the United States from Ukraine, she spoke no English, but taught herself "in about five months" and went on to work as a screenwriter (among other things). Her predilections lay in art film, and she's credited with starring in / producing / directing one of the first American art films, the adaptation of Oscar Wilde's play Salome (1923). She has an elegant and commanding presence in all of her films, and is an absolute sensation to watch in motion."

Gif link, another gif link

A great actress who also produced a great deal of her films, Nazimova is absolutely mesmerizing to watch. She was also bi and coined the phrase "sewing circle" for sapphic celebrities.

Olive Thomas propaganda:

Olive Thomas was one of the OG Hollywood starlets, and the only woman to seriously challenge Mary Pickford for Hollywood Queen supremacy. She was known for her stunning face and long ringlet hair, which is pretty amazing considering she was also the original flapper girl (so-called because of HER in the movie The Flapper!). She was also one of the first big Hollywood scandals, because her death was/is very suspicious and the idea that she might have died in a drunken accident (or been murdered by Mary Pickford's brother) was considered beyond the ability for "middle Americans" to understand. WE STAN A GORGEOUS MYSTERIOUS FLAPPER QUEEN!

#olive thomas #alla nazimova #fuck that old woman #hotvintagepoll #ladies 2

[rock-and-roll-hell]

March 21, 1976

Dressed To Kill Tour

Beacon Theater ‐ New York City

2 shows 7:30pm & 11pm (Both shows sold out)

“As KIϟϟ thundered onstage March 21, for the first of two shows, it was clearly a case of ‘hail the conquering heroes.’ The sold-out crowd of hyperactive 16-year-olds rose to their feet as one, cheering and stomping, and remained standing throughout the band’s hour-long set. KIϟϟ returned the crowd’s fervor with full force, praising their hometown audience, and proved to be one of the most energetic groups on the road. The show had very little to do with actual musicianship, since the band operates at continual pain-level volume. However, they were mixed well enough to allow for distinguishable vocals, and a few instrumental leads. KIϟϟ’ message is a direct one – it plays behind a wall of sound, and elicits response according to how familiar one has become with its material. Equal attention was devoted to a full stock of special effects KIϟϟ uses onstage. Police lights rotated above their battery of amps, candles flickered in sinister manner off to one side, and bassist Gene Simmons spewed fake blood in a manner that must be seen to be believed. Of course, it’s all very silly, the latest extension of shock-rock, if you like. Yet KIϟϟ is a band that so well communicates with its audience as to make the sci-fi freak show an understandable, even necessary element of their performance” (Billboard, 4/12/75).

#kisstory #1975 #hotter than hell #kiss #kiss band #kiss army #ace frehley #peter criss #paul stanley #gene simmons #the spaceman #the catman #the starchild #the demon

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Colon Theatre

The Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires is one of the most important opera houses in the world. Its rich and prestigious history, as well as its exceptional acoustic and architectural conditions, place it on par with theaters such as La Scala in Milan, the Paris Opera, the Vienna State Opera, Covent Garden in London, and the Metropolitan Opera in New York.

In its first location, the Teatro Colón operated from 1857 to 1888 when it was closed for the construction of a new venue. The new theater was inaugurated on May 25, 1908, with a performance of Aida. Initially, the Colón hired foreign companies for its seasons, but starting in 1925, it had its own resident companies - Orchestra, Ballet, and Choir - as well as production workshops. This allowed the theater, by the 1930s, to organize its own seasons funded by the city's budget. Since then, the Teatro Colón has been defined as a seasonal theater or "stagione," capable of fully producing an entire production thanks to the professionalism of its specialized technical staff.

Throughout its history, no significant artist of the 20th century has failed to set foot on its stage. It is enough to mention singers such as Enrico Caruso, Claudia Muzio, Maria Callas, Régine Crespin, Birgit Nilsson, Plácido Domingo, Luciano Pavarotti, and dancers like Vaslav Nijinsky, Margot Fonteyn, Maia Plisetskaya, Rudolf Nureyev, and Mikhail Baryshnikov. Esteemed conductors such as Arturo Toscanini, Herbert von Karajan, Héctor Panizza, and Ferdinand Leitner, among many others, have also graced the theater. It is also common for composers, following the tradition initiated by Richard Strauss, Camille Saint-Saëns, Pietro Mascagni, and Ottorino Respighi, to come to the Teatro Colón to conduct or supervise the premieres of their own works.

Several top-notch maestros have worked consistently here, achieving high artistic goals. They include Erich Kleiber, Fritz Busch, stage directors like Margarita Wallmann or Ernst Poettgen, dance masters like Bronislava Nijinska or Tamara Grigorieva, and choral directors like Romano Gandolfi or Tullio Boni. Not to mention the numerous instrumental soloists, symphony orchestras, and chamber ensembles that have offered unforgettable performances on this stage throughout over a hundred years of sustained activity.

Finally, since 2010, the Teatro Colón has been showcased in a restored building, resplendent in all its original splendor, providing a distinguished setting for its presentations. For all these reasons, the Teatro Colón is a source of pride for Argentine culture and a center of reference for opera, dance, and classical music worldwide.

__________________________________________________________

You will need a 64x64 lot and the usual CC from TheJim, Felixandre, Harrie, Sverinka, SYB, Aggressivekittty, and other marvelous creators! 

DOWNLOAD TRAY: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=75230453

(free to play 7/17)

#sims 4 architecture #sims 4 build #sims4palace #sims 4 screenshots #sims4 #sims4play #sims 4 historical #sims4building #sims 4 royalty #sims4frencharchitecture

[rastronomicals]

11:18 PM EDT May 18, 2024:

Led Zeppelin - "Candy Store Rock" From the album Presence (March 31, 1976)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Much in the same way that the lyrics to The Beatles' "Glass Onion" acknowledged with a nod and a reluctant wink the gnostic cult of Paul-is-Dead, the packaging of Led Zeppelin's Presence acknowledged the I'm sure at-least-somewhat-discomfitting fact that their group had long since become the most humongous rock band in the world.

By the time of The White Album, and by the time of Presence, respectively, things had gotten to the point where expedience was no longer expedient. The Beatles had tried not to feed the conspiracy theorists, and Zeppelin--modest at least in this one regard--had stayed away from licensing lunchboxes and appearances on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. But at a certain point, things get so big, and so plain, that they become the elephant in the room.

Presence seems to be Zep's acceptance of their own status (beyond even their own control) as Big Dumb Object, an enormous artifact of unfathomable consequence.

That's dumb as in "incapable of speech," not as in "stupid," just so we're straight. But since we're there, let me note that Presence perhaps more than any Zeppelin album save II demonstrates that a certain amount of stoopidity is unavoidable or even desired if you're going to play the cock-rock game.

Plant's lyrics to "Achilles" reference some etching or the other of William Blake's, so my point is not to disparage Zeppelin's obvious operational intelligence. Still, Zeppelin were all about contrast: I dare you to check out the live video from '77, and tell me that Plant's suggestive mannerisms as he sings the band's 11-minute epic aren't a little stoopid . . . .

Ah, but I digress, 'cause the key concept here is not "Dumb" but "Big." Think thunder. Think "Hammer of the Gods," if that helps.

After four albums where at least part of the idea had been to leaven the heaviness with keyboards or acoustic instruments, Presence was a return to the undiluted bombast of the second album. Guitar bass drums voice recorded in a mere 18 days--not necessarily simple, but certainly direct.

The instrumental contrasts that for good or ill had been there on III, IV, Houses of the Holy, and Physical Graffiti were absent on the band's seventh album--and maybe that's why it's long been their least popular. Funny thought, that: maybe Zeppelin were so goddamned popular not because of the parts that rocked, but because of the parts that didn't!

I don't want to go overboard, however. I don't want to make it sound as if Presence were a piece of the nascent pub rock of the time, because the very first track belies that. "Achilles" is the third longest studio track for the band and features perhaps Page's most intricate guitar orchestration, with as many as 12 overdubs. It's routinely described as proggy, or even Yes-like (and if you don't believe that, consider that Dream Theater is one of the many acts who have covered the song). And note that Jonesy is playing an eight-string bass.

Leave it to this band of contrasts to feature a 10-1/2 minute song about a Greek demigod with painstakingly multitracked guitars on their back-to-basics record . . . Presence is perhaps Led Zeppelin's most misunderstood album, but for Page Plant Jones & Bonham, that may have been The Object all along.

File under: The Object Of It All

--

#Led Zeppelin #Presence #Candy Store Rock

[y2klostandfound]

Space Channel 5 Part 2 on 电子游戏软件 (Video game software No.92) (2002-03)

Translation in English:

PS2:

Manufacturers:SEGA Release Date:2002.2.14 Type: Music ACT Price: 6800 yen other: -

DC:

Manufacturers:SEGA Release Date:2002.2.14 Type: Music ACT Price: 6800 yen other: -

Ulala in Double report

This winter, Ulala's dynamic dance and music will make everyone HAPPY again!

HAPPY Space Musical has opened!

The dance incident caused by the Moro star (Morolians) was finally resolved with the efforts of Ulala, a reporter from Space Channel 5. The world seems to have returned to peace, but recently there has been an incident of a mysterious organization making people dance wildly! The report of Ulala started again!

To save the charmed people!

As long as there is evil in the galaxy, there will be people who love music, dancing and games in this world! One year after the release of the first generation, the sequel of "Space Channel 5" appeared again, and the reporter was still Ulala! In this story, Ulala used her dance to get rid of the evil group that made people dance wildly. The new work adds new dance battles, musical instrument battles, song battles, and a new recording method! Since this work will be launched in PS2 and DC versions at the same time, it has attracted much attention. Below we will provide you with a detailed report on "Space Channel 5 PART.2"!

In this incident, FUSE, the producer of "Space Channel 5", once again used Dance Ulala. Since two years have passed since the Morolians incident,and as a reporter, Ulala has not been able to improve her visiting skills because the world has been peaceful, but her dancing and singing skills have improved a lot! In this work, Ulala put on a white dress, with her pink hair and vigorous dancing, she looks very charming!

Dance group on stage!?

The evil organization that suddenly appeared is a "Dancing troupe (Rhythm Rouges)" that makes people dance wildly and abducts them. The guy in the middle wearing a red turban seems to be their leader, surrounded by some odd-looking, bad-hearted minions. From their eyes will shoot a beam of light that makes people dance, very dangerous! But the danger is dangerous, their cute look but often let you forget the danger!

It's going very well!

Ulala is back in action!

Are jaguars dangerous?

the evil force in the galaxy

Everyone goes crazy dancing

Special Catalog : Here are the highlights The duel of musical instruments!

Guitar! Dance Ulala holds the guitar for a fierce dance! And a drum kit! Playing the drum kit is also a must! This is the new musical instrument battle imported by this work. The types of musical instruments can be completely developed by yourself, and you don’t have to worry about the difficulty of operating the musical instrument. This is a very easy-to-use system. If skilled, you will certainly let you excited!

Still dancing

The theme of the game is dancing. Wu Lala, hurry up and rescue them! Once the rescue is successful, people will dance with Wu Lala. There are so many types of dances and roles, and it takes a lot of energy to watch them all!

Fierce battle with strange plants

Ulala will display all her talents to fight! Oh, what's that in front of her? Is it a large dangerous plant? It caught Wu Lala. Danger! O sky, fly freely in the air? What kind of difficulties will Ulala really face?

Fly, Ulala

SPACE MIKEL (SPACE MICHAEL) Director

The superstar of the whole universe, SPACE MIKEL (SPACE MICHAEL) decided to make an appearance this time! After the retirement of the previous director, he took up the post of Director of Space Channel 5. In the midst of a busy schedule, SPACE MIKEL(SPACE MICHAEL)revealed the situation of the super dance for us!

Special Catalog : A software full of aura in music!

Pleasant music, dynamic dance, fanatical performance, Ulala's performance is perfect! It is worthy of the title of "Space Musical". Players seem to have also participated in a musical that costs 20,000 yen to see at the Imperial Theater. This work will be sold on both PS2 and DC versions on February 14th, and I highly recommend it to everyone!

#space channel 5: part 2 #space channel 5 #sega #ulala

[sharpestasp]

Music Meme

List five artists that you listen to multiple albums on. Feel free to expound on any of them.

1. Corey Hart - Most of you are likely only aware of "Sunglasses at Night" though some might remember "Never Surrender".

For me, I listen to his first seven albums damn near on repeat for mental and emotional health. A Canadian Singer-Songwriter, honored a few times in the Canadian music industry, Corey Hart is that strange mix of eclectic phrasings, good music, and different point of view that got me through much of the 90s. I'd been aware of him from his second album in real time, so from the 80s, but actually tracking down all of his then-produced albums and staying on top of it was a balm on my mind.

Is he an amazing songwriter? No. But he's comforting to me, and that's what I needed.

~ Oddball fact - when I bought Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love, I listened to it BEFORE I read the liner notes. And ID'd BOTH songs Corey Hart had written for the album, without even knowing he'd contributed. ("Miles To Go" and "Where is the Love")

2. Queensryche - So when I was a kid, I hung out at a roller rink ran by metal-heads who may or may not have been hippies at some point, and definitely weren't managing any illegal activities. I was actually unnerved the first time I went to a rink that was A) brightly if gaudily lit and B) playing pop music, because MY roller rink was my formative experience. And they introduced me to Queensryche LONG before "Silent Lucidity" put them in the mainstream, and before my fiancé raved about Operation: MINDCRIME to me.

I came into their works on their second full length album, acquired it and the demo album and the first full-length album, and was always happy to see them on Headbanger's Ball. I still listen to over half their discography, and sometimes just put it on repeat. Even with the split in the band, I will listen to the new albums, and sometimes they still light my heart on fire.

~ Oddball fact - I have seen the band play in three different venue styles. My first was in an Arena (The Promised Land Tour), the second was in a House of Blues where I was damn near at the stage (Operation: Mindcrime II Tour), and in a small theater style (American Soldier Tour). I will say they have the range to adapt to their environment.

3. Nickelback - Another Canadian entry! Like most Americans, it was the Silver Side Up album that hooked me. I actually am not overly fond of the albums prior to it, but I have liked most of the ones after. I know people meme-hate on them as being bland or auto-tuned or too commercial, but guess what? I can fucking sing along with them and enjoy the lyrics. The love songs hit me in my guts. The rockboy badass songs make me smile. Even some of the more sexist sounding ones leave me going 'the woman is coming out on top here'. And well, "Never Again" as well as "Lullaby" just own my soul.

~ Oddball fact - My buddy's band back in NC did a lot of covers. R, who was the singer, flat out said he was never going to keep up with "Animal" and that's okay, because the crowd usually took over. And then we all did jaegerbombs to celebrate the hilarity of it. Second fun fact, my buddy usually passed all the extra bombs my way, knowing (back then) I had a higher constitution for them than R did.

4. Enigma - The first three albums. Loop them, put them on softly, and use them to sleep by or calm my ass down. Not really much else to day on this, because these are ones where the human voice is literally just an instrument in the music for me. I don't sing along, even when I can make out the lyrics, because it is most effective as a whole for me.

~ Oddball fact - when I had it on cassette to listen to, I was usually out like a light by the time the first album hit "Callas Went Away".

5. Sarah McLachlan - OH LOOK another Canadian has appeared. I entered into awareness of her with Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, found her previous albums, and check in on her every now and then when I need a vocalist I love. She has a similar handle on lyrics to Corey Hart -- sometimes it seems like those words should not fit to music and yet. I find myself moved to tears on many tracks, and find the resonance of her voice in just right for me.

~ Oddball fact - I think the first time I saw her on television was Macy's Parade, and it was the song she did for Charlotte's Web, long after I'd begun stalking her music.

Feel free to take the idea and run with it. I might find new music from all of your tastes!

#music #corey hart #queensryche #nickelback #enigma #sarah mclachlan #sarah mcdonald #meme

[usafphantom2]

US intends to send second aircraft carrier to the coast of Israel

The ship was already scheduled to be deployed, but the Secretary of Defense, Lloyd Austin, could order it to the eastern Mediterranean.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/10/2023 - 22:42in Military, War Zones

The U.S. may soon have two aircraft carriers in the Eastern Mediterranean, according to Department of Defense officials, a measure that would mark a major escalation of U.S. military power in the region as fighting intensifies between Israeli forces and Hamas militants.

The aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower, along with his warships and associated fighters, was already scheduled to depart from Norfolk, Virginia, this week and may receive an order to travel to the waters off the coast of Israel, according to two Department of Defense officials who asked for anonymity when discussing future operations.

The Eisenhower group has long been scheduled to be deployed and operate near Europe, Department of Defense spokesman Lieutenant Colonel Bryon McGarry said in a statement on Tuesday.

The ship is scheduled to leave Norfolk on Friday and can reach the eastern Mediterranean by the end of October if requested, said one of the department's officials. At this point, the Eisenhower would join the aircraft carrier USS Gerald R Ford and its attack group, which the Pentagon ordered to the waters off Israel on Sunday as a show of force after the surprise attacks on southern Israel.

Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin will continue to review the deployment plans of both ships, “while considering the appropriate balance of maritime capacity in all theaters of operations in support of national security priorities,” McGarry said.

The rare decision to potentially have two aircraft carriers, which are accompanied by cruisers, destroyers and fighters as part of their attack groups, in the same area would be an important signal to Hamas that the U.S. military is supporting Israel as much as possible.

The Pentagon sent two aircraft carriers to the Middle East in March 2020, in a context of growing tension with Iran. At the time, both Eisenhower and the USS Harry S. Truman, with their respective escorts, operated in the Arabian Sea.

But the double aircraft carrier strategy has severely overloaded the Navy in the past, with force leaders warning that it was unsustainable. Aircraft carriers are highly sought after around the world and are usually spread across different regions.

The Wall Street Journal first reported that the U.S. was considering sending Eisenhower to the coast of Israel.

Source: Politico

Tags: Military AviationIsraelaircraft carrierUSN - United States Navy/U.S. NavyWar Zones - Middle East

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[automatic-external-defibrillator]

What are the different types of pipe organs, beside mosquito? 👀

Okay I think I accidentally confused you. Mosquito pipes are pipes, not the organ itself. The mosquitoes are just the tiny pipes in a smaller rank (octave set of pipes).

Types of organs? Oh boy that's a can of worms and a half right there.

First off, you've got classic chamber organs. Generally the first type of pipe organ someone thinks of when they are told to think of a pipe organ. Big things that take up entire buildings and have pipes pretty much wherever there's space in the walls. Personally, I believe this is probably where the term "organ" came into use as a term for the instrument because its span through the building led to it quite literally being the organs of the building, but made of pipes. Haven't done much research into the etymology of the phrase, though, so I could very well be wrong about that.

Second, and my personal favorite: theater/cinema organs! They're similar to chamber organs, however these bad boys also have percussion! Also part of the reason I get so so so pissed off when people try to tell me silent film had no sound at all. No they didn't have synchronous sound, however they did have organists! And an entire type of organ invented solely for playing sound effects along with the music (but I'll get to them later). Usually found in theaters, but have since become part of a very niche set of pizza places. Very popular between the 50s-80s. (I really want to learn how to play one some day, and this was actually the type of organ I first got to see in person!) Wurlitzer is the most common brand you'll hear of when talking about these types of organs, however the one I got to play was a Robert Morton. Also! Organ Stop Pizza in Arizona, USA, has a very sizable Wurlitzer with a duck sound on it and a slide whistle and I really wanna go there some day. They have some pretty fun videos on YouTube (I recommend the "Be Our Guest" video). Either way, very cool.

Third: fairground organs! Ever wonder why carnival music sounds Like That? Fairground organs. They were incredibly popular in carnivals and fairs and basically any carousel worth riding had one in the center of it. These organs tend to be built to be not only loud (to be heard over the din of the crowds), but also hella pretty. The facades on these bad boys can get so detailed and extravagant that they could be classified as their own type of art. Because not only are you designing pretty colors and figurines (which of these had moving ones that played other instruments!) you also had the instruments themselves to use to help organize. These things not only provided ambiance and music, they were shows in and of themselves. They were always made to be eye-catching and entertaining. Personal favorite YouTube videos for these are Rasputin and the Can Can (both by Alexey Rom). Two separate organs, but they're both gorgeous creations.

Fourth: crank/barrel/busker organs. Yep! Busking. You can busk with these bad boys. Generally these guys are smaller, maybe 3-5 stops. They're usually on a little cart and are hand-cranked to operate. Not all of these are on carts, though. Some of them are small enough to fit on a tabletop. They tend to operate on barrel music (as opposed to the book music fairground organs tended to operate on) as it's more compact. Personal favorite videos for these are "We'll Meet Again" Raffin Street Organ (Nick Williams) and "Crazy Rhythm" - auf 20er Drehorgel (OrgelbauDrewesChlup). (It's actually 3 songs but shhhhh all three are very pretty and I love this video.)

Fifth: photoplayers! These are the machines I was talking about earlier with the theater organs. These were made specifically to accompany silent film and were huge during the silent film era (1910-1928) but rapidly fell off with the invention of synchronous sound. Most well-known of these was the American Fotoplayer by the American Photo Player Company. If that sounds familiar, it's because recently (I think, I'm not super up-to-date with what's popular on TikTok) a clip from the beginning of an episode of California's Gold took off with Joe Rinaudo and his Fotoplayer. (Hit it, Joe!) (He plays the Twelfth Street Rag, in case you were curious.) These aren't technically classified as organs themselves, instead falling under the grander umbrella term orchestrion, but they do have organs in them! I seriously recommend Joe Rinaudo for any photoplayer songs, specifically Ride of the Valkyries. It's so so so good.

Sixth: calliopes! They're not technically organs too, but they're organ adjacent. They're played using train whistles and steam! They were most popular on steamboats (for obvious reasons) and were usually played when said boats passed closer to towns. However, this doesn't mean they're exclusive to steamboats, as they do have smaller versions that were also found at carnivals. The main part is that they're made of (or similar in sound to) train whistles. Also! The name is pronounced 2 different ways! Callie-ope and cal-lie-o-pee. There's actually a little poem about them that uses both pronunciations: "Proud folk stare after me; Call me Calliope; Tooting joy, tooting hope; I am the Calliope." Personal favorite video for these is Calliope music by burnleyzie cook on YouTube.

Seventh: pyrophones! Yes, pyro. As in fire. These things are so fucking cool. I love them so much. The pipes play fire. They're so rare, however someone apparently made a TikTok of someone playing one, and I reblogged it here at some point. They're also technically not organs, and are actually a close relative of calliopes (the only difference is the combustion. They have inverse combustions from each other and I can never remember which one has internal and which one has external.) (Okay, I just remembered I'm on a computer, I just looked it up. Calliopes are external, pyrophones are internal.) There's actually a fun subset of these that were popular in Paris called "lustre chantant" aka singing chandelier. I literally can't find anything about them anywhere aside from a few magazine clippings from the 1880s-1890s and a small section written in the calliope (music) wiki article. I would love to see one in person, however I genuinely don't think there are any remaining. Any time I try and find anything pertaining to them, I just wind up on videos about the French chandelier industry. Help.

That's honestly all I can remember off the top of my head. Thank you for the ask! I started answering on my phone, but then had to switch to my laptop because I realized I had too much to say. We go hard when it comes to pipe organs/orchestrions.

#heart restart #bunnyfella #ty so much for asking about this i love a good info dump #it's enriching for the guy #you know the guy #i think #i'm not sure if you do know the guy but i'm pretty sure you don #*do

[silriven]

The Vow Eternal

This is an edit of my compiled thoughts and favorite quotes originally posted in a readthrough on Twitter about The Vow Eternal, the new short story that features Wrathion.

*sighs, rolls up sleeves, cracks knuckles*

Alright.  Let's see what we've got.

First off, I love the cover art.  After 2+ years of low key dreading that when Wrathion made his post-BfA return, it would be as a villain or antagonist, it's been pretty nice to see him depicted heroically, even enveloped in a golden glow.  We've really been spoiled with good art for him this expansion, which hasn't even come out yet.

No. I must not look up. But no sooner did he think it than he began to twist and shriek. Metal plating spread over him, containing him as he contorted into a form less of solid flesh than of liquid fire.  When the horrifying transformation was complete, the monster he had become, fueled by hatred and rage, opened its massive iron jaws. “There is no Wrathion!” the thing of metal and magma cried. The voice was dreadful, heart-stopping, and . . . familiar.  “There is only I, Deathwing—now and always,” Wrathion found himself hissing. But it was not his mouth. He watched, helpless, as the Aspects swooped to attack him, as the black dragons doubled back to blast him, their old enemy made anew . . .  All they saw was Deathwing.

...ok, to start, I am pleasantly surprised that we're kicking off with the implications that Wrathion regularly has Deathwing body horror nightmares, a type of Wrathion angst that is very near and dear to my heart.  Good, strong start.  

Short story: 1

Silriven's dignity: 0

Wrathion composing himself after shouting out in his sleep is a nice touch.   It's also interesting to note that Wrathion drinks a lot of wine...or at least has been recently.  Also, he's spending time at the Horde inn at the Shrine of Two Moons, rather than the Alliance inn.  Maybe he’s also giving The Tavern in the Mists a wide birth because he hasn’t reconciled with Tong, though I’d like to think that the Black Prince, not unlike the Lannisters, always repays his debts...eventually.

Wrathion scoffed. The pleasure of your company. Ha! This wedding was a monumental event in Azeroth’s history—the joining of two powerful leaders—and yet he knew he had been invited only as a courtesy. No one in Azeroth really wanted a black dragon—especially him—at any sort of grand occasion. It was good political theater to trot out someone so instrumental in defeating the old god N’Zoth and saving the world, but neither the couple nor their high-profile guests would deem being in his company a pleasure.

So far I think I'm on board with Wrathion being self conscious about attending a social event like this, it makes sense.  Credit where credit's due, I have to say it's also nice seeing attention drawn to his role in N'zoth's defeat instead of dwelling on War Crimes/WoD.

Wrathion crumpled the scroll with unnecessary vigor and flung it into a corner. Weddings were notoriously sappy affairs, and this one was likely to be especially so. According to the reports of his Black Talon operatives, it was a true love match, one that had blazed to a flame during a poetry competition, of all things. There would be other giggling, happy pairs; families with their giddy children; old friends reuniting.

Positively stomach-churning.

This is how I also feel about Lor'themar & Thalyssra's great big heterosexual wedding getting center stage so no complaints here.

There was High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof, who, Wrathion observed with a sly grin, came with Mayla Highmountain.

Jesus, and people make fun of shippers for pairing two people who have just stood next to each other.  Sorry, I really would be enjoying this a little more if it was like, Shaw and Flynn's wedding or something.  Joking aside, I like the implication that Wrathion keeps up with Horde gossip, or maybe this comes from Ebyssian passing on Highmountain gossip to his brother.

In the past, Wrathion had sought to protect Azeroth by pitting Horde and Alliance against one another, in order to determine which side was the mightier. Now he understood that the fate of the world hung not on conquest but on collaboration.

Character growth, we love to see it.  I think this is one thing that most WoW players don’t understand is that the betrayal is a feature of Wrathion x Anduin, not a bug.

Anduin, the king of Stormwind who had been absent from that role over the past few years, had always believed permanent peace was possible between the two factions. He had worked toward that goal with a quiet tenacity that Wrathion had admired. After the Fourth War, Anduin’s hope had become a cautious reality.

There's something kind of poignant about the Horde and the Alliance finally gathering together in peace and Anduin, someone who's fought hard for this, being absent and unable to experience it.

At this point, overall, I'm surprised by how much I don't hate this.  Roguish Wrathion deciding to utilize the party to listen for "tidbits" of interesting conversation is good, Taelia being awed to meet him is good, Kalec being happy to see him is also good.  Fairshaw cameo is...better than nothing I suppose.

Taelia’s eyes widened, and she took a step toward him. “I am honored to meet you. I hear the world owes you great thanks.”

Seriously, Taelia x Wrathion shippers come get your JUICE 😍

Wrathion spread out his arms as he strode toward them. “Magni!” he cried, genuinely glad to have spotted him, for the two had worked together to defeat N’Zoth.

“Och! Wrathion! Come here, laddie, an’ let me introduce ye to my family. Me brothers, Muradin and Brann, and me dear daughter, Moira.”

“I of course know all your names,” Wrathion said with a dashing wink. It was true. “And what a pleasure to finally meet you,” he added, taking in the lively bunch.

“Oh, we know about you too!” Moira said. “Me da here willna shut up!”

Wrathion was caught off guard. Such a warm welcome almost undid him. The feeling was . . . contagious.

So this section right here, where Magni and his family give Wrathion a warm welcome like this and Wrathion is taken back by it?  This is the moment where my stone cold heart defrosted.  I still think Wrathion’s familial connection to Blackrock Mountain and the Dark Iron dwarves would be a great thing for World of Warcraft to explore.

Wrathion understood not having many friends—or any friends. He’d never truly been a child; he had grown so swiftly and been driven by so dark a purpose that there had been no time for play. Of course, a childhood disrupted by wars and conflicts didn’t help. Meeting Anduin in Pandaria had been both a gift and a curse. A gift, because Wrathion had learned that someone, anyone, might deem him worth caring for. A curse, because Wrathion had chosen to exploit Anduin’s trust in an ill-conceived attempt to protect Azeroth. They had met again years later, and that encounter had been . . . Well, suffice it to say Anduin had a much better right cross than Wrathion had given him credit for. He hoped they could reconcile once Anduin returned from . . . wherever he was.

Wrathion drained his glass, and the strange ache in his chest returned.

This is the really interesting bit, the part where Wrathion addresses Anduin directly.  I think hell has frozen over or I'm reading something incorrectly because this reads like confirmation that Anduin cared for Wrathion and that Wrathion feels heartache when he thinks about that.  It’s unexpected and...honestly, pleasant.

Kurog kept going, scrutinizing him. “How were you made, Wrathion? Cobbled together out of pieces of corpses? You and your depraved kin . . . You are the very symbol of all that has gone wrong in this world.” While most onlookers murmured in shock at Kurog’s words, Wrathion heard a voice from deep in the crowd cheering the tauren on.

A chill ran through Wrathion, but not from the voice of dissent in the crowd. Rather, from the peculiarity that a shaman would know this bit of awfully specific information. He wondered if he was the reason the tauren had decided to show up . . .

This part was also interesting, too, I wonder how the shaman found out this information or if it will come up again.  I kind of respected and liked how blunt this was, if they were going to keep Wrathion’s strange origins as is, it was a good way to utilize that information during this tense scene.  I think it also made for a good lead-in to the part where Wrathion looses his temper.  Something like this, so personal and said in public, in front of high ranking members of both the Horde and the Alliance, would make him loose his temper.

“You’re very kind, but I should have realized that my presence here would be . . . provocative . . . to some. I hope this did not tarnish your memories of this most joyful occasion. I must depart, and I wish you both nothing but happiness for all your days.”

They did not protest.

“I owe you my thanks,” Baine chimed in. “Kurog is a powerful shaman. He—”

Wrathion held up a hand, flashing a charming smile. “No need for thanks.” The black dragon bowed, straightened his shoulders, and strode off without another word.

Ouch 💔

“Kalecgos! What do you wish of me?”

The blue dragon lifted a bottle of arcwine and two glasses. “Some help in drinking this fine vintage.”

Kalec comforting Wrathion is sweet, so is Wrathion returning the favor.  I don’t ship the two but I cheer it on enthusiastically from the sidelines.  At least you don’t get the jokes about Anduin being a domestic abuser over there.

So at this point I started getting worknight tired and was a little distracted by figuring out that the mechanics/metaphor of the heartache that Wrathion has been feeling throughout the story are a literal affliction, the pull of the Dragon Isles on all of dragonkind to come home.  I didn’t really appreciate the weight of the next part until I read the short story a second time the following day.  I thought that Wrathion’s pain was going to be explained as him not recognizing what perfectly ordinary heartache is, but then Kalecgos is revealed to have the same feeling in addition to other dragons who have congregated at Wyrmrest.

Alexstrasza stepped forward and, as if there was not and never had been mistrust or resentment between them, gently placed a hand on his face. To his own surprise, he allowed it, comprehending that the significance of this moment transcended any quarrels.

“Young one,” the Dragon Queen said, exchanging a sage look with Nozdormu, “you have heard the call . . . and you have answered.”

Wrathion did not understand. “The call?”

“Yes, the call,” she said, speaking to all of those standing closely around her. “One long awaited. All of us—here, below, anywhere in the world—we have all been called, and we have heard it with our hearts. The Dragon Isles are awaiting our return.”

“But . . .” Wrathion shook his head, still not comprehending.

“Wrathion,” she said softly, “you are homesick.”

The ache. The desperate longing for something he had never had.

“Homesick?”

The Dragon Isles had never been denied to him. They were only waiting. For him, and for every other dragon in Azeroth. His people. Wrathion had not been excluded.

He was being welcomed.

He belonged.

This?  This bit is nice.  Wrathion being accepted and welcomed by the dragons, especially their queen, truly, for lack of a better phrase, sparks joy.  The one-two punch of Wrathion realizing that he is homesick for a home he never had and then feeling welcomed by other dragons as a part of the family does land emotionally, at least for me.  My one quibble is I wish Ebyssian was included in this moment, being the first dragon that Wrathion sees as family.  Ebyssian is curiously absent in this short story, though it juggles so many characters as it is.

I think this also reframes the later questline in Dragonflight proper where Sabellian is questioning Wrathion's right to seek the title of Aspect, knowing that Alexstrasza and other dragons of Azeroth, like Kalecgos, do accept him as he is and as one of their own.  It softens how harsh this interaction is, when you take into consideration that Wrathion’s mother was forced to breed by the Red Dragonflight and her whelps, including Wrathion, were experimented on with the end goal of curing the Black Dragonflight of the Old Gods’ corruption.  This is the one obscure lore fact that I keep hammering on, sorry, I know it gets old but

[ “Everything not saved will be lost. - Quit screen message, Nintendo ]

I don't think we were going to get a satisfying resolution to the old conflicts between the Red and the Black Dragonflights, one that addressed the experiments done to Nyxondra's children for example, so in my opinion this isn't a bad way to start fresh.  I kind of don’t want this game to touch the subject of forced dragon breeding again.  The way this MMORPG approaches its story doesn’t lend the kind of nuance and gravitas you need to tackle a story like that in good taste.  Let's have a new narrative.

Overall I really liked this short story.  I think this is better characterization than the snippets I’ve seen from the so far from the Obsidian Citadel questline in the alpha/beta, or at least complements it better.  I’m also a little self conscious because, to be honest, after Shadowlands, my expectations for Dragonflight have been practically on the floor.  World of Warcraft can be hard to talk about, too, because content comes out at such a slow drip feed, there's a lot of excitement when things drop.  I've been looking forward to the possibility of a Wrathion short story for a while so I'm also trying not to get too swept away in the hype.  Still, Wrathion enduring both a wedding and its guests is a fun ride.

tldr; Wrathion needs more gentle touches to his face, I can get behind this short story.

#wrathion #world of warcraft #silriven: ruminations #the vow eternal

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #15:

Before and After

How's your dad doing?  Mine's hanging in there; thanks for asking!  At nearly 83 he walks the dog incessantly, mumbles through his task list, sleeps like a baby in front of Fox News and enjoys taking you down to his garage where he'll point out beloved paraphernalia with declarative statements like, "Whoa!"

Same goes for your (and my) imaginary dad, Neil Young.  At 78, Neil already checks just about all my dad's sweet and curmudgeonly boxes (though I suspect he sleeps through MSNBC instead).  Let's spend this Shakey Sunday on last fall's Before and After, a tossed off token from his summer solo shows.

I saw Young twice on the tour, once in San Diego and once, much more impressively, at the tiny, tucked-out-of-sight, John Ford Theater in LA via tickets my famous brother scored for us via his big deal insider status (or maybe he just went online and bought them; I don't remember jack schmoe about how that part of it all went down).

But I do remember some great beers in the parking lot and just about everything else about that night in LA, most of which, sadly, isn't captured on the Before and After. The record removes every second of crowd noise and ties all the songs into one fictionally seamless take, as if Young finished the whole show in under 35 minutes and no one reacted.

The reality was a little different! Indeed, Young spent much of the show wandering about his cluttered stage with an invisible and forever hot mic, mumbling "whoa" like my dad and pointing at his dizzying number of pianos and guitars. 

Young also peppered his set with shaggy dog stories about the origins of those various instruments: "Stills gave me this one: Whoa," he said, more to himself than to us, as he picked up a six string. Then he just stared at it for awhile, thinking deep, Stills-centered, thoughts. Stephen himself was surely tucked up in his devilish manse, watching Ally McBeal reruns and sucking on a lemon.

Young eventually remembered we were there. "Intense," he resumed, still fixated on the guitar. "Really something. They don't make 'em like this one anymore.  Nope." 

At one point Neil turned his back on us and operated a toy train around his stage.  16 of Neil's hipster minions surely supervised the train's safe transport throughout the tour, a job which required way more care and intelligence than their previous gig, playing alongside Young in a band called Promise of the Real.

Young offered no explanation for the train, nor did he connect it to any song on the set. He was just showing off stuff from his garage.

But fear not, those of you who are eagerly anticipating his upcoming Crazy Horse tour: hanging out with Neil is still a blast.  Even if our dads were some of the world's greatest living performers, I doubt any of them could still get on stage alone at their age and roll out a note perfect rendition of their best known song (Heart of Gold), let alone resurrect a 40 year old track that David Geffen famously rejected and, prior to Before and After, had never been released (If You've Go Love). 

During a set he described as "hidden by the hits", Young was alternatively soulful and tender on tracks like When I Hold you in My Arms and My Heart, rowdy and fuming on 90's rarities Prime of Life and Song X and just plain awesome as he brought back Ohio and the Springfield's Burned.  

Just like with my dad (and, my kids would say, me) it was occasionally tough to tell if Neil was joking.  Several times he took a pause while receiving yet another pre-tuned instrument, each time from an entirely new hipster, to tell us all that his job was "hard". Listen, when I'm his age I'll have to hire my own team of hipsters to tie my shoes, but he's Neil Freakin' Young: he should do amazing feats with ease.

So, was he being ironic with his "hard work" shtick? Beats me.  And when he slapped out a wheezing and frantic version of Mr Soul on his gothic cathedral of a pump organ it was impossible to tell if he was making fun of the song or channeling its depths. Probably he was doing both; that's Neil Young.

Perhaps most impressively, Neil closed out the concert by successfully leading a sing along that did not suck.  50+ years ago Neil simply could not lead audiences in collaborative performances of Sugar Mountain.  No matter how much stoned instruction he offered, he simply could not get everyone to hold the beat.

But there he was last summer, teaching the audience to accompany his vocals on Love Earth, a downright corny song from his barely-there last Crazy Horse record. The song sounds like Neil spent some quality covid time with the dead body dance scene from Clue.  You all know the song and scene I'm talking about, but it's been excised off of the net, except in the look, I filmed my own tv, version below; maybe Neil uploaded this himself while writing Love Earth; the song is so slight that he must have been doing something else at the time.

The song is regrettable as an album track, and Young left it off Before and After. But, somehow, the live result was actually pretty magical.  Everyone was on their feet and into it, especially once Neil told us - without losing the beat - that we all sucked for not singing loud enough.

Here is doing his "what's your favorite planet?" thing at my San Diego show:

Sadly, Before and After fails to convey most of this magic. The songs are there, sure, but the rich novelty of the set is now old news, and the swaying on stage, soulful and bemused cranky grandpa act that happened live before my very eyes won't come through to those not lucky enough to have been there.

My dad can still do some pretty incredible stuff at his age.  Like Neil, he still goes out on the road.  Rather than lighting up the West Coast and reminding us of his largely undiminished greatness, my dad heads down to Belize a few times a year to volunteer in a poor community.  He's been at it for more than 25 years now, and he sure as hell doesn't lead any successful sing-a-longs down there.  But he keeps the beat steady all the same, and the community he serves always eagerly welcomes him. 

One hopes that, unlike Old King, my dad, and yours, and Neil all still have a long way to go.

#neil young #shakey sundays #stephen stills sucks #promise of the real pancakes

[handeaux]

A ‘Wireless Wizard’ Showed Cincinnati Driverless Cars; He Really Wanted A Death Ray

It was Monday, 23 January 1928 on Court Street in Cincinnati. Three Willis automobiles rumbled around the Courthouse Square, flashing their lights, honking their horns, starting and stopping, shutting off and restarting their engines, turning this way and that. Not one of the three cars had a human in the driver’s seat. All were controlled by a wooden crate mounted on the running board, receiving radio signals from a “Wireless Wizard” manipulating a small radio transmitter. According to the Cincinnati Post:

“The wizard would fling a radio spark from his toylike transmitter. There would be a responsive click in the wireless apparatus on the auto. The wheels would move in any direction.”

The Wireless Wizard was a young man named Maurice J. Francill from Toledo, Ohio. Francill arrived in Cincinnati under the auspices of the Post to demonstrate the power of radio to transform modern life. Francill spent a week in town, not only driving automobiles in circles, but sending a conductorless streetcar eight blocks up Sycamore Street. Each evening, he amazed crowds at the local Wurlitzer shop on Fourth Street:

“In addition to playing all manner of automatic music instruments by remote control, he will make a radio broadcast phonograph record and play it back to his audience in the flash of a moment. He also will offer light and sound wave experiments on the music store program.”

While wowing the crowds by demonstrating his radio-control box, Francill opined about the future of American life, once radio had saturated the nation’s infrastructure.

“The wizard, Francill, says that someday every woman will carry a wireless dual-phone in her handbag – that she not only can talk over it with the maid at home, but that she can see through it exactly what is taking place there.”

Francill predicted that every household appliance will one day be operated by radio, with vacuum sweepers operated at the touch of a button and basement laundry machines controlled from the lady’s boudoir. (Francill was less than forthcoming about how the dirty clothes would find their way to the laundry and how the clean clothes would return to the closet, but who is quibbling?)

In Cincinnati, Francill was a decided sensation, Over the course of his six-day visit to the Queen City, he presented 18 driverless automobile exhibitions, a sold-out demonstration of radio-controlled appliances at Keith’s Theater and inspirational visits to local high schools.

On top of whatever the Post paid him for this week-long residency, Francill earned some financial icing by endorsing local products. The Veazey-Miller Willis dealership on Gilbert Avenue provided the Willis automobiles for his experiments, with full tanks of Caldwell & Taylor’s “Original Benzol Gas,” lubricated with Pennzoil products and relying on Prest-O-Lite batteries. The Electric Shop contributed appliances for use on stage, and Wurlitzer touted Francill’s approval of the company’s home entertainment consoles.

Who was this “Wireless Wizard” and where did he come from? Although identified as an engineer, none of the newspapers suggested he had actually studied engineering anywhere. Records for anyone named Maurice J. Francill are sparse and sometimes contradictory.

That’s because Maurice J. Francill was the stage name of a man named Francis Cowgill, born in Marion, Ohio around 1896. Cowgill worked for a time in the factories around his hometown. The 1920 census records him as a foreman and inspector at an automobile factory. In 1918 the Marion Star announced that Francis Cowgill was “putting Marion on the map” by designing weaponry for the United States Navy. In particular, the newspaper reported that Cowgill had developed contact mines for the Navy that were “in actual use,” and was now pitching two types of aerial bombs to the U.S. War Department.

After the war, Cowgill launched a career in show business as a one-man vaudeville act juggling and wire-walking. He began adding magic tricks to his repertoire and started tinkering with remote control devices to enliven his show. That’s when he created the “Francill” name by chopping off the end of his first name and the beginning of his surname and splicing them together. Pretty soon the radio component of his act became the centerpiece and he was off on a decade of remote-control exhibitions – milking cows, baking bread, operating a laundry and running entire factories in addition to running driverless autos through their paces.

As World War II loomed, Maurice/Francis went back to his earlier career in creating armaments and created his electronic triumph – a Death Ray. According to the Cincinnati Post [2 March 1940], Francill offered his homicidal device to Ohio Governor John W. Bricker as a quicker, more humane, method of execution than the electric chair, but state law mandated the chair in Ohio. Francill claimed that his Death Ray had killed rats in preliminary tests.

Twenty-two years later, Cowgill was still trying to sell his Death Ray and told the Columbus Dispatch [29 April 1962] that, if he didn’t build one, somebody else would, Cowgill claimed “four or five others in this country” were working on one.

“It’s quite possible that the ray could operate off of a couple of flash-light batteries.”

Cowgill told Dispatch reporter Dan Clancy that the Death Ray he envisioned could do much more than simply kill people. It could cut down the Golden Gate Bridge, for example.

“You could just slice it off at each end and take another cut up the middle for good measure.”

Cowgill told Clancy that his Death Ray worked by disrupting the ability of hemoglobin to carry oxygen. Rats struck by the Death Ray fell paralyzed and then died. Cowgill claimed he never killed any people with his Death Ray, but confessed he’d thought of doing so.

The man born Francis Cowgill died in 1974 and is buried as Maurice J. Francill in Marion Cemetery. He appeared in court to fight a Marion traffic ticket as Francill in 1953, suggesting he had legally changed his name. However, the Ohio Bar Association sued Francis Cowgill in 1970 under his birth name for practicing law – advising inventors about patent regulations – without a license, so maybe he hadn’t.

Adding to the mystery is the outcome of his research on a Death Ray? Do plans exist? Was a prototype constructed? Were any more rats sacrificed? The answers are out there somewhere.

#francis cowgill #maurice j. francill #wireless wizard

[lonestarbattleship]

USS Arkansas (BB-33) undergoing an overhaul and refurbished in the Boston Navy Yard. She was there from September 14 to November 6, 1944.

As part of the overhaul, workers replaced her gun barrels. This is a labor intensive operation since it requires armor plates and parts of turret structure to be removed inorder to access the guns barrels.

The inner lining of guns were worn out from firing hundreds of rounds at enemy shore targets at Normandy, Cherbourg and South France.

Her fire control instruments were upgraded and several other alternations were made as well.

She departed on November 7 for the Pacific Theater, along with USS Texas (BB-35) and USS Iowa (BB-61) (flagship) as part of Battle Division 5.

USS Arkansas cruise book: link

Egan, Robert S., and Edward C. Fisher. “The Fighting ‘T.’” Warship International, vol. 6, no. 4, 1969, pp. 300–320. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/44887383.

source

#USS Arkansas (BB-33) #USS Arkansas #Wyoming Class #Battleship #Dreadnought #warship #ship #boat #regunning #September #November #1944 #Boston Navy Yard #Boston #Massachusetts #East coast #World War II #World War 2 #WWII #WW2 #WWII History #History #military history #military #us navy #united states navy #navy #usn #u.s. navy #my post

[rastronomicals]

2:15 AM EDT April 5, 2024:

Led Zeppelin - "Hots On For Nowhere" From the album Presence (March 31, 1976)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

Much in the same way that the lyrics to The Beatles' "Glass Onion" acknowledged with a nod and a reluctant wink the gnostic cult of Paul-is-Dead, the packaging of Led Zeppelin's Presence acknowledged the I'm sure at-least-somewhat-discomfitting fact that their group had long since become the most humongous rock band in the world.

By the time of The White Album, and by the time of Presence, respectively, things had gotten to the point where expedience was no longer expedient. The Beatles had tried not to feed the conspiracy theorists, and Zeppelin--modest at least in this one regard--had stayed away from licensing lunchboxes and appearances on Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. But at a certain point, things get so big, and so plain, that they become the elephant in the room.

Presence seems to be Zep's acceptance of their own status (beyond even their own control) as Big Dumb Object, an enormous artifact of unfathomable consequence.

That's dumb as in "incapable of speech," not as in "stupid," just so we're straight. But since we're there, let me note that Presence perhaps more than any Zeppelin album save II demonstrates that a certain amount of stoopidity is unavoidable or even desired if you're going to play the cock-rock game.

Plant's lyrics to "Achilles" reference some etching or the other of William Blake's, so my point is not to disparage Zeppelin's obvious operational intelligence. Still, Zeppelin were all about contrast: I dare you to check out the live video from '77, and tell me that Plant's suggestive mannerisms as he sings the band's 11-minute epic aren't a little stoopid . . . .

Ah, but I digress, 'cause the key concept here is not "Dumb" but "Big." Think thunder. Think "Hammer of the Gods," if that helps.

After four albums where at least part of the idea had been to leaven the heaviness with keyboards or acoustic instruments, Presence was a return to the undiluted bombast of the second album. Guitar bass drums voice recorded in a mere 18 days--not necessarily simple, but certainly direct.

The instrumental contrasts that for good or ill had been there on III, IV, Houses of the Holy, and Physical Graffiti were absent on the band's seventh album--and maybe that's why it's long been their least popular. Funny thought, that: maybe Zeppelin were so goddamned popular not because of the parts that rocked, but because of the parts that didn't!

I don't want to go overboard, however. I don't want to make it sound as if Presence were a piece of the nascent pub rock of the time, because the very first track belies that. "Achilles" is the third longest studio track for the band and features perhaps Page's most intricate guitar orchestration, with as many as 12 overdubs. It's routinely described as proggy, or even Yes-like (and if you don't believe that, consider that Dream Theater is one of the many acts who have covered the song). And note that Jonesy is playing an eight-string bass.

Leave it to this band of contrasts to feature a 10-1/2 minute song about a Greek demigod with painstakingly multitracked guitars on their back-to-basics record . . . Presence is perhaps Led Zeppelin's most misunderstood album, but for Page Plant Jones & Bonham, that may have been The Object all along.

File under: The Object Of It All

--

#Led Zeppelin #Presence #Hots On For Nowhere

[bloodtiesandbrickways]

things I’m trying to emulate in this book:

being sixteen and staying up too late and listening to Emile Autumn’s “Shalott” on YouTube and not knowing how to think or feel and kind of hating it at first because music isn’t supposed to sound like that but then having the same song stuck on loop in your head all the next day at school

lying on your back in your room, staring up at the ceiling, going over the plot details of movies and books a thousand times to tweak them and polish them and make them more emotionally satisfying

Pyramid Collection catalogues

the little gift booklets sent out by The Noble Collection before they went mass-market

digging through used CDs in thrift stores looking for something good and finding anime OSTs and Rasputina’s Great American Gingerbread

teen fantasy books that nobody else cared about or knew about at the library in the era before YA was a genre

[most obviously drawn from children’s series here]

watching Labyrinth for the first time and being lost in a fever dream of glitter and tulle and hairspray

90s urban fantasy romance novels that felt like spicier versions of Charmed or Buffy with spirited Strong Women Who Fight and werewolves and faeries all crammed together

falling in love with a culture that took yours over long before you were born, speaking their words as your mother tongue, seeing the good and the bad and the mediocre rolled all together, being pulled in more directions than you can count and trying to make it make sense when it can’t and won’t

the Hall of Plants at the Field Museum, the models and dioramas and displays made decades before you lived, each handwritten, dead and alive and never-living simultaneously

one particular cash-only bookshop in the town where I went to school that was so full of books you couldn’t turn around without knocking a stack over that had two stories linked by a rickety spiral staircase and was full of skeleton-faced teddy bears

whimsigoth, dark cabaret, faerie goth, neo-Victoriana, lace and ripped fishnets and striped corsets and electric stringed instruments

whatever the specific emotion associated with Birthday Massacre albums is

magic, but real magic

standing alone in a quiet cathedral with the sound echoing off every piece of stone

visiting an asylum and standing in the operating theater and knowing you could have been there a century ago

the art from Children R Skary videos

so if that feels worth reading, follow me here i guess?

#self promo #shameless self advertising #writblr #writing #urban fantasy #blood ties and brickways #bt&bw

[a---z]

Thursday 9th Nov. 

8 - 10.30pm

Quasar

A---Z at Iklectik

Tickets: https://link.dice.fm/o0856a0ca324

A—Z comes back to Iklectik to present Quasar – Expect a night of live sets including immersive ambient sounds, from mystic, dark noise to electronic pulsar chaos. The event presents three acts that explore sensory/textural sounds, syncretism, displacement, cathartic tremors.

8.30 - 9pm Gisou Golshani (live)

9.15 - 9.45pm GAKKO (live)

10 - 10.30pm Manuka Honey (live)

Manuka Honey

Marissa Malik, best known by her stage name Manuka Honey, is a multi-disciplinary artist, DJ and producer at the forefront of Latinx-infused club music coming out of the UK. US-born and London-based, Manuka’s adoration of the Latinx diaspora’s sounds is exuded by her beautifully chaotic DJ sets that have pummeled the sound systems of clubs and festivals internationally.

GAKKO

Carolin Schnurrer is a London and Berlin-based artist, DJ (alias GAKKO), designer, and instrument builder, producing sensory experiences with a variety of media, from sound performance and installation art to moving images. In her artistic research, she creates electronic instruments that incorporate human skin into her music-making process: Providing a platform for the audience to actively shape and manipulate the sounds she produces in real time by engaging in tactile interactions with one another on a transformative odyssey through synthetic, sensual, and otherworldly sonic landscapes.

Delving into the depths of profound vulnerability and resilience, this approach allows her not only to investigate the potential of healing through the powers of human touch and sound, but also challenge traditional notions of music creation and club experiences – inviting listeners to embrace the symbiotic fusions between the organic and the synthetic, to forge a path towards a speculative and fictional future where these connections transcend the confines of borders, culture, language, and other categories of exclusion that we construct.

Operating under the name GAKKO, she has cultivated an unwavering passion for seamlessly blending genres spanning from 130 to 160 BPM, weaving together sets that pulsate with the raw energy of bass-heavy music, unexpected club edits, and thunderous drum breaks. Through radio shows on Foundation FM, Refuge Worldwide, and [sic]nal, she aims to showcase forward-thinking and marginalized electronic producers within the experimental and DIY realm. Carolin Schnurrer’s artistic journey is characterized by collaborative ventures with musicians, artists, writers, and dancers like KLEIN, AUDINT (Kode9, Eleni Ikon, Toby Heyes), Julie Cunningham, and Haroon Mirza; she has performed at events such as Tate Lates, Oram Awards at Kings Place, Hyperdub’s Night Ø at Corsica Studios, intonal in Malmö, the YARD theater, 925 in Colombo and the MIRA Festival in Barcelona.

Gisou Golshani

Gisou Golshani is a London-based Iranian artist. Their work depicts abstract narratives from seemingly disparate elements. Through multilayered editing and playful uses of sampling, they investigate the intimacy of the voice, the effects of sound on the body and their mother tongue Farsi’s complexities in translation. Looking into archival found material, Gisou creates multi-sensory, immersive installations and performances. Previous work has been shown at Disturbance (Ugly Duck), London, Studio/Chapple for Deptford X, London, Nottingham’s New Art Exchange, Mimosa House, London and internationally including their home country. 

#Bandcamp