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nonchalantnightowlsworld · 7 months

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31 Prompts for October: Horror

Day 16: Unseelie court

The night was dark and cold, and the wind howled through the trees. A group of riders emerged from the shadows, mounted on black horses with fiery eyes. They wore cloaks of raven feathers and carried weapons of iron and bone. They were the Dark Hunt, the elite warriors of the Unseelie court, sent by their queen to capture a prize for her amusement.

Their target was a young human girl, who had wandered into the Feywild by accident. She had been enchanted by the beauty and magic of the land, unaware of the dangers that lurked behind every flower and leaf. She had stumbled upon a glade where the Seelie court was holding a feast, and had been invited to join them by a handsome prince. He had offered her a cup of wine and a dance, and she had accepted without hesitation.

The Dark Hunt had followed her trail, and had waited for the right moment to strike. They had attacked the glade with fury and malice, slaughtering many of the Seelie fairies and driving away the rest. They had seized the girl and bound her with chains of cold iron, which burned her skin and drained her life force. They had laughed at her cries and mocked her innocence.

They rode back to their queen's castle, which was made of ice and darkness. They expected to be rewarded for their deed, but they were in for a surprise. The Queen of Air and Darkness was not pleased with their gift. She had seen through their eyes what they had done, and she was furious.

She scolded them for their stupidity and cruelty, saying that they had violated the ancient laws of hospitality and honor. She said that they had provoked the wrath of the Seelie court, which would surely seek revenge. She said that they had wasted her time and resources on a worthless human, who had no value or interest to her.

She ordered them to release the girl and return her to her world, along with a message of apology and peace to the Seelie court. She said that they would be punished for their failure, and that they would never hunt again. She banished them from her presence, and sent them away in shame.

The Dark Hunt obeyed their queen's command, but they were bitter and angry. They blamed the girl for their misfortune, and swore to make her pay. They took her back to the glade where they had found her, but they did not free her or treat her kindly. They beat her and tortured her, trying to break her spirit and make her beg for mercy.

But the girl did not give up hope. She remembered the prince who had danced with her, and prayed that he would come to save her. She endured the pain and humiliation, knowing that it would soon be over. She looked at the stars above, and wished for a miracle.

And then, it happened. A horn sounded in the distance, followed by a chorus of bells and harps. A light shone through the trees, brighter than the moon. A host of fairies appeared, riding on white horses with silver manes. They wore cloaks of silk and lace, and carried weapons of gold and crystal. They were the Seelie court, led by their king.

The king was the prince who had danced with the girl. He had seen what had happened to her through his magic mirror, and he had gathered his army to rescue her. He was furious at what he saw: his beloved in chains, surrounded by enemies. He charged at them with his sword drawn, ready to fight.

The Dark Hunt was caught off guard by this sudden attack. They tried to defend themselves, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. The Seelie fairies fought with skill and grace, cutting down their foes with ease. The Dark Hunt was soon defeated, and those who survived fled in terror.

The king reached the girl's side, and cut off her chains with his sword. He lifted her up in his arms, and kissed her gently on the forehead. He asked her if she was alright, and apologized for what had happened to her. He said that he loved her, and that he wanted to take her with him to his realm.

The girl looked at him with gratitude and love in her eyes. She said that she was alright, thanks to him. She said that she loved him too, and that she wanted to go with him wherever he went.

They kissed again, more passionately this time. They mounted his horse together and rode away into the night. They left behind a trail of flowers and stars, marking their path to happiness.

#halloween writing prompts #writing prompts #creative writing #writers #horror #spooktober #october #fiction writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscorner #writerscommunity #writing #unseelie #fae #faeries #fey #unseelie court #queen

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sarkisozumm · 5 months

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#The Lumineers #Deck The Halls #lyrics #şarkı sözleri

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allthemusic · 6 months

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Week ending: 27 August 1953

Two songs this week, both from completely new artists, although one would turn out to be less new than the title would suggest, in a twist that I'm not sure I appreciated when I realised. Oh, well.

Eternally - Jimmy Young (peaked at No. 8)

I was so excited; we had a new artist, with a song title that I didn't recognise! Yay! Imagine my surprise, then, when a very familiar piano riff kicks us off - it's another version of Terry's Theme from Limelight. You know, the not-particularly-funny-sounding Charlie Chaplin film that the record-buying public were apparently obsessed with in 1953?

To be honest, I'd never heard of this film before I started on this project, and I'm now imagining that it must have been the hit of the summer in 1953! Although, a spot of research does tell me, weirdly, that while it was popular in Japan and much of Europe, it barely got shown in the US due to Charlie Chaplin's alleged Communist sympathies, and when Chaplin came to the UK to promote the film, he was actually denied a visa back into the US, which is also how I learnt that Charlie Chaplin was British? I think I thought he was American!

That rabbit-hole aside, there's not much more to say about this tune than what I've already said. It's still very classical, though this version has more in common with Frank Chackfield's slightly lame version than Ron Goodwin's actually very good orchestral version. It's got classical instruments, but they aren't as crisp or as differentiated as Ron's are, more mushy strings and echoey piano.

The key difference? There are suddenly words! This, I gather, is why it wasn't billed as Terry's Theme again, not that the words are much to write home about. We start rhyming "eternally" with... uh, "eternally", before Jimmy keeps on singing about how "Though the sky should fall / Remember I shall always be / Forever true and loving you / Eternally" and how he always knew his love and him were meant to be. Yawn. There's literally nothing striking about these lyrics, they're very dull.

Jimmy Young, sings in a very trained, very British way, hanging back slightly like he's ashamed of the mush that he's singing. Which is fair enough, I don't think I could muster up much oomph for his. Whcih is a shame, as I think this is one song that would actually be improved by the Al Martino-style "belt it" approach. I can imagine a version with a much bigger, louder "Eteeeeeeernally" at the end, for sure!

But instead, we go out with a whimper, and a harp glissando. Oh well. Next song!

Seven Lonely Day - Gisele MacKenzie (6)

I'd never heard of Gisele MacKenzie, but her voice here is a nice discovery. It's a country-ish voice, though I can't quite call this a country song. Something in the way she leans into words works nicely.

It's a jaunty sort of song, despite the title, and though it starts as an angsty break-up song about how "Seven lonely days make one lonely week / Seven lonely nights make one lonely me / Ever since the time you told me were through", it slowly morphs into something else.

The first clue that something is amiss is the men's chorus that comes in, with a very hearty "Oh, my darlin', I'm cryin', boo-hoo-hoo, There's no use in denyin' I cried for you". It's still about how sad she is, but they just go at with so much gusto that it's impossible to feel particularly sad. They're rousing, you want to join in, and the "boo-hoo-hoo" bits are particularly fun!

And then Gisele gets to the heart of it, suggesting that her love didn't treat her particularly well while they were together ("It was your favourite pastime, makin' me blue") and then telling them: "Last week was the last time I cried for you" and "Guess it never pays to make your lover blue". Gisele didn't initiate the break-up, but she's over it now, and I love the attitude in this section. It's a very modern pop-diva move, turning a sad break-up song into a defiant, "I don't care" kind of song, and I am a sucker for it!

There's a little bit of clunky writing in the middle when she sings about how "Seven hankies blue I filled with my tears" and how "Seven letters true I filled with my fears". It doesn't help that her pronunciation makes it sound like "seven leathers", which confused me even further...

Still, all is forgiven when the clapping comes in near the end, when the men's chorus comes back. I love some clapping in a song! It's catchy as anything, and really ramps things up as the song draws to a close, changing up the vibe just enough to keep it fresh. Lovely stuff!

Two very different songs, then, and I think my favourite is a no-brainer. Gisele MacKenzie, unlikely as it seems, is the prototypical pop diva here, pioneering a whole genre of defiant post-breakup song that's a guilty (or not so guilty) pleasure of mine. So, without further ado...

Favourite song of the bunch: Seven Lonely Days

#uk charts #1953 #jimmy young #gisele mackenzie

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adamsvanrhijn · 3 years

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poor edith

#striking a harp and joining the chorus

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hellizens-a · 2 years

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“Merry Christmas, my deer listeners! As promised, I’m here to sing for you - every hour, on the hour - until the day is done!

Another request for a long-time classic: Deck The Halls! Do enjoy!

Ahem...

♪ Deck the halls with boughs of holly! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! 'Tis the season to be jolly! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Don we now our gay apparel! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la!

See the blazing Yule before us! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Strike the harp and join the chorus! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Follow me in merry measure! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! While I tell of Yule-tide treasure! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la!

Fast away the old year passes! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Hail the new year, lads and lasses! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Sing we joyous, all together! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! Heedless of the wind and weather! Fa, la la, la la, la la, la la! ♫

Be sure to listen in at the next top of the hour for another song sung by yours truly! And as always...thank you for tuning in!”

( banner art cred )

#longpost tw #alastor's singing.#dash commentary allowed.#scheduled post.#(( As always the song link is on the last music note of the post. ))

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iamacrazedupbean · 2 years

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...when you're extremely high and hyped up on christmas spirit even when the day was well shitty... UP ON THE HOUSETOP REINDEERS PAUSE, OUT JUMPS GOOD OL" SANTA CLAUS! STRIKE THE HARP AND JOIN THE CHORUS, FA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LAAAA!!!

RUDOLPH THE RED NOSED REINDEEERRRRR!! JINGLE BELL JINGLE BEL JINGLE BELL ROCKKKK!! FROSTYYY THE SNOWMANNNN

#christmas #festive #xmas #christmas tree #holidays #merry christmas #christmas carols #christmas eve #jingle bells #christmasmusic #loving it rn!!

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drawnfromthedead · 3 years

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Snapemas2020 Days 19 and 20 Deck the Great Hall and Joyous Courus: Snockhart Edition

Severus had been roped into helping around in decorating the Great Hall and Gilderoy had decided he was going to join him. Usually, by this point, the great hall was already decorated, Hagrid had always made sure the decorating had begun by the last week of November, and this year wasn't any different.

However, this year Mr. Finnegan had suceded in his plan to turn water into rum and he, and many other students, had gotten drunk and trashed the entire place. They all had about a months worth of detention now, of course, and Mr. Finnegan had gotten far to drunk to remember how he had cast the spell in the first place so hopefully their would be no repeats (any time soon at least). But this left the teachers, and some of those students trying to apologize for what they had done, to clean up the mess.

If Severus didn't know any better he would have thought Hagrid actually looked pleased that the whole hall was in shambles, but then again, since it is in shambles, this means Hagrid could finally attempt to pull of his original decorating plans. Which weren't practical at all and more than they had ever done before.

Looks like they where going to be here for a while.

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Gilderoy began hearing the humming when he about halfway through his part of Hagrid's grand redecorating scheme, which was incredibly beautiful and Gilderoy couldn't help but be impressed. But the humming was, in Gilderoy's opinion, for more beautiful. It was a deep and throaty hum, carefully and slowly playing out Deck the Halls which suddenly sounded a lot sadder and more personal than it had before.

Careful to Mach the tone Gilderoy began to sing along side the humming:

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly

Fa la la la la, la la la la," Gil started slowly.

The hum faltered for a moment at Gilderoy's voice but the continued.

" 'Tis the season to be jolly

Fa la la la la, la la la la," at this point Gil heard a few other around the hall start to sing along with him, but the deep humming stayed strong in his ears.

"Don we now our gay apparel

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Troll the ancient Yuletide carol

Fa la la la la, la la la la,"

They continued to sing "fa la la pa la," behind him but Gilderoy had stopped for a moment to listen to how the humming had sounded next to all the voices and to carefully reach up and place another Christmas bow on the tree closest to him, it was a very delicate pattern and Gil didn't want to mess it up.

"See the blazing yule before us

Fa la la la la, la la la la," Gilderoy started again, slightly deeper than before then continued-

"Strike the harp and join the chorus-" lauder but Severus' humming, or what he now knew was Severus' humming considering the man had finally moved to stand right next to him, gently placing his lips to gips throat without stopping the rythem, had met him at that volume.

Everyone around them continued to sing, Gilderoy had instead turned towards Severus, who had just stopped humming "I had no idea you could sing."

"Hmm," Severus had noted his face back to Gil's neck.

"Sev-"

"Can we go?" Severus started, his voice as low as the humming had been "Please?"

Gilderoy felt his face heat up, and merely nodded in response.

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@deepperplexity asked to be tagged ^-^

And thank you @plvtarch for adding onto my musical snockhart head canons and inspiring this drabble ^-^

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Getting closer to the end! Sorry again for inconsistent posting, my sleep schedule has flopped to nocturnal again and I usually become a bit more forgetful time wise when that happens so here is yesterday's and today's.

I didn't draw any thing new for this one (I'm not good at drawing the great hall just yet) buy I did make these two edits (one with another drawing I did for snapemas in it but both have a screen shot of hogwarts during Christmas from the first movie (i think...))

#my art #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #digital drawing #artist #fan art #art edit #fan edit #harry potter #fanart #severus snape #gilderoy lockhart #snockhart art #snockhart #snapemas2020

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justforbooks · 4 years

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Mory Kanté obituary

Singer and songwriter whose 1980s hit Yéké Yéké was Africa’s first million-selling single

Mory Kanté, who has died aged 70 from untreated health problems, was a singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist and one of west Africa’s most versatile and commercially successful musical pioneers.

A national hero in Guinea, Kanté came from a jali or griot family of hereditary musicians and historians, and became known as the “electric griot” for his fusion of contemporary styles with traditional west African influences. His best known song, Yéké Yéké, was recorded in 1987 and became the first African single to sell over a million copies - as well as being the first international dance floor hit to feature the kora, the ancient west African harp.

Kanté played an amplified version of the instrument, which was matched against a stomping bass line, brass, drums, and a female chorus joining in with his distinctive, high-pitched vocals for the exuberant and catchy hook line. Yéké Yéké was No 1 in the pop charts in Spain and the Netherlands, and a Top 5 hit in Germany, Switzerland and France. It made three entries in the UK charts, reaching the Top 30 in 1988 and 1995 and then again, as a remix version, in 1996. The remix appeared on the soundtrack of the Danny Boyle film The Beach (2000).

Yéké Yéké made Kanté an international celebrity, just as African music was gaining new audiences in the west thanks to the growing interest in world music. But he was already well known across west Africa as lead singer with one of the region’s finest groups, the Rail Band. And as Lucy Duran, professor of music at SOAS, University of London, put it: “He was steeped in tradition.”

He was always destined to be a musician. Born in Albadarya, south-eastern Guinea, he was one of the youngest of 38 children. His father, El Hadj Djelifodé Kanté, was a local griot leader, while his mother, Fatoumata Kamissoko, was from a distinguished Malian griot family. Mory was taught to play the balafon, the African xylophone, attended a local French school and at 15 was sent to Bamako, the Malian capital, to live with his aunt, Manamba Kamissoko, a singer and griot. Here he continued his griot education while also listening to western and Cuban music and working as balafonist, guitarist and singer for the Apollos, a band much in demand at wedding festivals.

His musical skills came to the notice of one of Bamako’s most popular and adventurous groups, the Rail Band, who were employed by the National Railways of Mali to play at the Buffet Hotel De La Gare, next to Bamako railway station, where they performed anything from Cuban-influenced songs and French pop to ancient griot songs arranged for modern instruments. Salif Keita was their star vocalist, and Kanté was hired to play the balafon and guitar – though he also taught himself to play the kora and would occasionally take the microphone to remind audiences that Salif was not the only great vocalist on stage.

In 1973, Keita quit to join a rival band, Les Ambassadeurs, and Kanté took over as lead singer. The Rail Band became celebrities across west Africa, touring in Nigeria and the Ivory Coast while expanding their musical range to include funk and Afrobeat, and recording classic songs that ranged from Soundiata, a tribute to the founder of the Mandingo empire and Sinsimba, a tribute to Fela Kuti.

After leaving the Rail Band (who had been on strike demanding their salaries as state employees), Kanté moved to Abidjan, capital of the Ivory Coast, where he found that “people were crazy for modern music on traditional instruments”. He started a small band in which he sang and played kora, backed by other traditional instruments including balafon and djembe hand drums as he reworked salsa and western dance songs.

He had a residency at a fashionable city restaurant, where he was heard by Gerard Chess, director of the American label Eboni that specialised in disco and funk. His first solo album Courougnegne was released in 1981 and mixed in Los Angeles, where he had a “dream” meeting with Stevie Wonder.

Kanté wanted international success, and in 1984 he moved to Paris, where he eventually achieved his goal. His album À Paris (1984) included an early version of Yéké Yéké, and the next, 10 Cola Nuts (1986), was co-produced by Bruce Springsteen’s original keyboard player David Sancious and was nominated for the French Victoires De la Musique award, but it was not until Akwaba Beach (1987) that he became a major star. This was the best-selling album that included the hit version of Yéké Yéké, and its success was followed by high-profile events including a concert attended by tens of thousands in Central Park, New York, on French Bastille Day, 14 July 1990.

Always smartly dressed in white, Kanté became an African crossover celebrity with the status of a rock star – though his high-energy shows often included a traditional song as a reminder of his griot roots. And having discovered a winning formula he stuck with it. His 1990 album Touma achieved gold status in France, and was followed by Nongo Village (1993), Tatebola (1996) and Tamala (Le Voyageur) (2001) which included Nin Kadi, an easy-going collaboration with the English R&B singer Shola Ama.

In 2004 Kanté dramatically changed direction with Sabou, an all-acoustic album that included no keyboards or electro-percussion but provided an impressive reminder of his instrumental skills, not just on kora but on balafon, acoustic guitar and percussion. His soaring vocals and sense of urgency made this a classic set – and it would be his last for eight years.

He had homes in both Paris and in the Guinean capital, Conakry, where he had plans for an ambitious cultural institute and had already built a studio where he recorded part of his final album La Guinéenne.

In 2019 he was “guest vocalist” on an album by Las Maravillas de Mali, celebrating the music of a Cuban-influenced Malian band from the early 1970s, and appeared at a concert with this new version of the group at the London Barbican. He was still in excellent voice – and was of course wearing white.

He is survived by his wife, Sira Kouyate, and their seven children, Kebe, Tenin, Kader, Fatim, Zeynab and Marian (twins), and Mohammed, and by children from an earlier marriage.

• Mory Kanté, musician, singer and songwriter, born 29 March 1950; died 22 May 2020

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Mory Kanté

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theculturedmarxist · 4 years

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By Anis Shivani, whose recent political books include Why Did Trump Win?, Confronting American Fascism, and A Radical Human Rights Solution to the Immigration Problem. He is the author of many critically-acclaimed books of fiction, poetry, and criticism, including, most recently, A History of the Cat in Nine Chapters or Less

Forcing the March 17 primaries in Florida, Arizona and Illinois to go forward, despite reports of exceedingly low turnout throughout the day (which miraculously and quite expectedly turned into higher turnouts than 2016 in both Florida and Arizona by the time the final reporting came in), was the last straw. This farce occurred despite the Ohio governor postponing their primary on the same day. This slap in the face of voters was then compounded by the even worse parody of the April 7 Wisconsin primary being allowed to go ahead at the peak of the pandemic, with polling stations vastly reduced (from 180 to just 5 in Milwaukee alone) and absentee ballots often not received or recorded, while maintaining the pretense that somehow all of this constituted a legitimate election.

In the middle of the pandemic, with the entire nation considering a de facto lockdown and many communities already there, the DNC was hell-bent on driving the final nail in the coffin of the youth movement, even though the Sanders campaign had suspended GOTV efforts, for obvious reasons, and even if Biden never really had a presence in any of the latest round of states.

In Maricopa County, Arizona, where many polling stations were shut down, in-person turnout was reportedly higher by 10,000 people than in 2016! And that’s just one representative example from the March 17 primary states. Furthermore, the DNC threatened the remaining primary states against postponing their elections for health reasons, preempting moves similar to those made by Louisiana, Georgia and others. The stage is being set for a virtual convention, followed by the possible resurgence of the illness in the fall to orchestrate a virtual general election. Social distancing has come in handily as the most convenient antidote to political solidarity. Biden has already made it clear that he’s not the least bit interested in making any real overtures toward bereft progressives, just as Hillary wasn’t after her forceful seizure of the nomination in 2016.

When they stopped counting the vote in Iowa, depriving the leading candidate of essential momentum, it was a clear indication that once again the party establishment would do everything to manipulate results in favor of yet another neoliberal avatar bound to lose to Trump in an ignominious landslide—which is actually what the Democratic party establishment wants, four more years of their demonized opponent rather than the tiniest return toward social decency. Nothing about the coronavirus changes this essential dynamic.

That’s how bad the Democratic party has become, blatantly tipping the scales toward their favored outcome in order to maintain oligarchic control, and they expect us to Vote Blue No Matter Who?

We’re asked to believe that the candidate who supported ordinary people at the grassroots level all across the country, by lending crucial support to strikesand direct action, spawning innumerable viable candidacies at the local and state levels, and regularly summoning many thousands of people to populist rallies calling for basic human decency, was easily defeated by a cognitively challenged Wall Street shill who has backed every economic and foreign policy barbarity of the last 50 years, and who cannot be put in a small gym with a few dozen people without descending into furious spittles of verbal aggression.

We’re supposed to trust that the candidate with a pervasive national presence for the last five years was suddenly, in a matter of 72 hours, annihilated by the geezer who had zero volunteers, staff or advertising in any of the states he miraculously turned around by 20, 30 or 40 points.

It’s time to put an end to this sham, because we can’t accede to this level of duplicity without ourselves becoming complicit in the madness. Trump essentially terminated the neoliberal Republican party in one election cycle, but because the Democratic party establishment is more entrenched and dangerous, the prime carrier of the neoliberal virus to which the Republicans are just accessories, it is the more difficult enemy to beat.

To recap some of what we have seen from the great minds trying to herd us all into submission toward Hillary 2.0, the dementia version:

· Herd 29 Trojan horses into the race, all pretending to be some version of or alternative to the clear ideological victor from 2016, and all of them unmasking themselves at appropriate stages of the race (three of them at the last moment before South Carolina) in order to maximize damage to one candidate alone.

· Insist on a series of parodic debates orchestrating various degrees of hostility toward the lone populist, and focusing outlandish attention on marginal candidates rather than giving the front-runner his due.

· Engineer the Iowa vote-counting catastrophe without anyone taking responsibility, and DNC chair Tom Perez not only not resigning but feeling empowered to engender further chaos.

· Repeat all the instances of voter suppression in close simulation of all the 2016 states, as if to thumb their noses at any semblance of voting integrity.

· Be part of closely coordinated media campaigns harping on electability, centrism and moderation, to the point where the liberal media (the Times, CNN, MSNBC) become indistinguishable from campaign opponents and the party apparatus. For the first three months of the year, the New York Times turned into a chorus of single-minded “Never Bernie” propaganda, exceeding even their “Never Trump” loathing of four years ago.

· Recruit Barack Obama to save Biden’s hide when he remained the last one standing, with the same ominous figures from 2016 (Jim “there will be no free education” Clyburn, Harry “get the culinary workers to caucus for Hillary” Reid, and others) reprising to the finest detail the same walk-on bits they played last time.

· Keep changing debate rules, by permitting entry to a last-minute white knight in the form of Michael Bloomberg, and the more recent rule change to prevent Tulsi Gabbard the opportunity of taking down Biden.

· Keep the option of cheating the delegate leader at the convention alive throughout the campaign, rather than stamping it out as a no-go in order to preserve the credibility of primary voting.

· Express no displeasure at clear voter suppression in Texas and California, or curiosity about strange exit poll versus final results in Virginia, Massachusetts, Maine and Minnesota, which showed unprecedented swings toward Biden.

Is this enough manipulation for you?

Sanders more than abided by party decorum for the last four years. Ever since he endorsed Hillary Clinton in 2016, and later yielded to Chuck Schumer’s request to join the senate leadership, he has been the most faithful of team players, observing every nicety and going along with the party line to the extent that there is no direct contradiction with his principles. The least he could have expected in return was a token amount of fair play, to let his social welfare philosophy compete on equal grounds with neoliberalism, yet this was vehemently denied.

At this point, is he obligated to play by the rules? Are we, if we are to draw obvious conclusions from the evidence at hand?

The Democratic party would much rather see Trump reelected by nominating a flawed neoliberal candidate with as much baggage and who is as associated with the recent Clinton failure as is Biden. Think about it: the party we’re supposed to get behind actually prefers fascism over the mildest concessions to social democracy, in order that the entire power structure might persist unchanged. For the sake of denying the slightest help to poor, debt-burdened, sick and unemployed people, this party would rather have untrammeled white nationalism, immigrants in concentration camps, and accelerated income inequality, as though we could sustain any more of it than we already have.

To defeat a handful of broadly popular proposals to address economic inequality, the Democratic party facilitated the entry of a former Republican mayor who administered the harassment of Muslims and minorities after 9/11, who gave over his city to unaccountable developers and oligarchs, and who happens to be the world’s ninth-richest person—not just a billionaire, of the kind Sanders is railing against, but one 60 times over.

And when that didn’t fly, because of said plutocrat’s manifest misogyny, racism and class privilege, they went back to their original choice, the freewheeling politico Wall Street loves to love, the senator from MBNA, the secret manipulator behind every bad trade deal and Wall Street giveaway and incarceration mania and war of choice of the last 50 years. The party Sanders has chosen to be loyal to knows that either of those candidates, the Manhattan multi-billionaire or the Delaware political enabler, would handily lose to Trump, but the idea is to keep playing the game, to engage us all in a performance that pretends to be even-handed. We wait patiently for health care and public education and a living wage, while we die in the meantime.

The party of death has demonstrated again and again in this primary campaign that its sole objective is to discredit left populism, even if it means abetting the growing dominance of fascist populism. The party we’re supposed to fall behind is the real facilitator, not the Republican party, because it is actively preventing an electable alternative to Trump, as shown in all the polls of the last five years.

The “woke” wing of the Democratic party—which is identical to the neoliberal wing in acting all high-and-mighty toward working-class folks, otherwise known as deplorables—precisely duplicated its machinations from 2016, when Hillary Clinton was said to be the victim of the angry Bernie Bros, a more ridiculous myth than which was never heard in a presidential campaign.

The woke crowd, who universally refused to support Sanders (whose campaign is a sincere homage to the Poor People’s Campaign run by Martin Luther King, Jr., or FDR’s economic bill of rights, or Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society program), got behind a series of identity politics-driven candidates, culminating in the last one to leave the race, who immediately got busy gaslighting the Sanders movement for its alleged misogyny. The woke wing was a fraud all along, they never did care to help actual working people with actual debilities. We knew it in 2016 and we know it even better now.

All the fallacies the Democratic party has exploited over five decades reached an extreme form of hypocrisy in the 2020 campaign. The least electable candidates were professionally sold as the most electable ones. Extremism on behalf of inequality and deprivation of basic human rights was packaged as moderate centrism. Sustained media campaigns were run against anyone questioning these straitjackets of thought, labeling us enemies of the people for wanting to help the people.

Emerging from his year-long sloth, Biden made it his mission to trash every element of Sanders’s “political revolution,” even in its most benign demands for a level playing field, which was the sum of the political gangsterism he so adeptly deployed at the March 15 debate, knowing he had the full backing of the party in shunning any move toward the kind of universal programs young voters demand.

Would Sanders supporters not be justified in abandoning this zombie party once and for all, if we do not end up with a fair electoral outcome, as it looks like we’re not going to while this primary fizzles out to an uncertain close? Are we not morally obligated to look for an alternative beyond, past and around this failed shell of a party?

In 2004 and again in 2016 they ran empty, fake, invisible campaigns once the primaries were over, with John Kerry and Hillary Clinton literally disappearing from the campaign trail for weeks at a time. They’d rather have Bush reelected then, and Trump reelected now, than raise the minimum wage to $15, make public college free again, or do something to save the planet from its runaway environmental crisis. While Sanders was responding like FDR II to address the public health emergency, Biden was nowhere to be seen.

We learned during this campaign that the all-time great woke candidate beloved of the wine cave class, namely the president upon whose nostalgic fumes we wish to resurrect a ghostly figure, is more willing than anyone else to stop the first stirrings of social democracy and do everything he can to maintain the chokehold of neoliberalism or neofascism.

The clarion call issued by the “Democratic” president of surveillance, wars, deportation and budget cuts appealed to the lowest instincts of career politicians in South Carolina and across the country as they forcefully jerked us back to where we were supposed to stay. This former president, like the recent troop of candidates, is explicitly against Medicare for All, and every other basic demand this moment of social distress cries out for. Biden and his cronies in the party are willing to go no further than trying to add a public option to the Affordable Care Act; even after the virus escalation, universal programs of the kind Sanders’s movement calls for are nowhere within range of their consideration.

The Democratic party wants to crush the joy and life out of youth, pretending that they don’t come out to vote, and that the entire machinery of politics should be aimed at keeping the country delicately balanced between one half meritocrats and one half deplorables, appealing to a minute number of antiquated voters in Ohio and Florida in order to maintain policy stasis. They gaslight us into thinking that actual social justice aspirants of diverse races and backgrounds, rather than the fake white woke influencers, are the real problem because of our hostility. They impose “party unity” and discipline in the service of continuing the very power structure that has given us unsustainable debt and unaffordability of basic human conveniences. When confronted by enthusiastic participation in Democratic primaries, mainly the responsibility of one Bernard Sanders of Vermont, they counter with the embodiment of the darkest hells of plutocracy, namely Michael Bloomberg. As expected, they have already used the coronavirus crisis to shut down any remaining trace of political idealism, because in this moment of emergency we cannot expect anything better than to bow down to the former president’s faithful old lapdog.

The Democratic party of 2020, after more than 50 years of succumbing to a murderous form of capitalism, is not just a flawed vehicle for any sort of political renaissance. Why should we legitimize them by leaping around their phantom carousel, wearing colorful costumes and clown hats on the fairgrounds, when they won’t give us a ticket, when they tear it up if we do have one, and when there’s always a guard hanging around to bash our skulls in case we utter a cry of joy at some little win?

They are all but compelling us to leave the party. Will we have the imagination to do so at last in a mass exodus?

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lokisdottirplots · 4 years

Photo

╰ ° SOMETHINGS NEVER CHANGE !! *°

❝ Deck the halls with boughs of holly Fa la la la la, la la la la (fa la la la la, la la la la) 'Tis the season to be jolly Fa la la la la, la la la la (fa la la la la, la la la la) Don we now our gay apparel Fa la la la la, la la la la (fa la la la la, la la la la) Troll the ancient Yuletide carol Fa la la la la, la la la la. See the blazing yule before us Fa la la la la, la la la la (fa la la la la, la la la la) Strike the harp and join the chorus. ❞

「 TO JULHA」

HAPPY HOLLIDAYS!

#edit #my edit #mcjulha #youngdonnarps #hollidaygift

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thematchmakeramethyst · 4 years

Text

Deck the Halls

This is the 5th Christmas song and the 37th song played by the Rainbow Gems.

Cyan: Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Orange: ‘Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Blue: Don we now our joy apparel, Fa la la, la la la, la la la. Purple: Toll the ancient Yule tide carol, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Green: See the blazing Yule before us, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Yellow: Strike the harp and join the chorus. Fa la la la la, la la la la. Chara: Follow me in merry measure, Fa la la, la la la, la la la. Frisk: While I tell of Yule tide treasure, Fa la la la la, la la la la. All: Fast away the old year passes, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Hail the new, ye lads and lasses, Fa la la la la, la la la la. Sing we joyous, all together, Fa la la, la la la, la la la. Heedless of the wind and weather, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

#tswfby #rainbow gems #rebellious ruby #serene zircon #gladsome spessartite garnet #sincerity sapphire #artful amethyst #gentle emerald #trusty topaz #passion red diamond

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violsva · 5 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Hidden Almanac (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Reverend Mord & Pastor Drom Characters: Reverend Mord (The Hidden Almanac), Pastor Drom (The Hidden Almanac), George the Crow (The Hidden Almanac) Additional Tags: Episode Style, History, canon-typical weirdness, mentions of human sacrifice, Mentions of RPF (Real Poultry Fiction), Characters Participating in Yuletide, holiday fic, Yuletide Treat Summary:

It was on this day that the gifts in a holiday fanfiction exchange were revealed. It is the Feast Day of Yuletide, and in the garden, there are stories.

Be Safe, and Remember: You Are Not Alone.

#hidden almanac #the hidden almanac #yuletide #my fic #ursula vernon

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roxrezi · 5 years

Audio

A present for @nicte-boonart for the @undertalesecretsanta exchange!

There’s a script and a couple small art pieces under the ‘read more’, I hope you enjoy!!

Script:

Susie: Alright so, since Kris doesn’t really speak, and Ralsei is still in the dark world with my boy Lancer, It’s down to me to do this thing. I don’t really like singing, or christmas but whatever. Apparently if I do this I’m getting a new box of chalk - coloured chalk too! Like I’m gonna pass that up! [clears throat] Let’s do this, nerds.Deck the halls with boughs of holly

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la 'Tis the season to be jolly Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Don we now our gay apparel Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Noelle: Ooh Susie! Are you singing christmas carols? Susie: What? No! Get lost Noelle Wait- Kris- Nodon’t- Noelle: [at the same time] Why yes Kris, I’d love to join in!!

Noelle and Susie: See the blazing Yule before us Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Strike the harp and join the chorus Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Follow me in merry measure Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la While I tell of Yule-tide treasure Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la

Fast away the old year passes Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Hail the new year, lads and lasses Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la Sing we joyous, all together Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la Heedless of the wind and weather Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la

Noelle: That was splendid Susie! You have a lovely voice Susie: Yeah.. thanks. And no thanks to YOU, KRIS ...Merry Christmas, chumps

#undertale #deltarune #susie #voice acting #undertale voice acting #sanders sides #sans undertale #noelle #papyrus undertale #my voice

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sweetteaanddragons · 6 years

Text

Sing Triumphant

And last but not least, the one for the square, “the best singer of the Noldor.”

There haven’t been any proper battles here yet, at this hard to defend strip of land he’s heard some of the men calling “Maglor’s Gap.” Not large scale battles, at least. There have, of course, been numerous testings of his defenses, and their consistent victories in those are well worth celebrating in his opinion. They must remain vigilant, of course, but they must celebrate their victories as well.

So tonight they feast out under the stars, a bonfire blazing in the center to stand against the first chill of the autumn air. The night lacks only one thing, and Maglor notes with amusement that his people are starting to shoot him hopeful looks.

He is more than happy to oblige.

He goes and stands with his back to the fire with his harp at the ready. The people around him fall into an eager silence. Sparks fall around him as the wind shifts.

He begins.

Fiercer than the fire raging behind him, stoking the blood into a cry of triumphant challenge: We are here. We are alive. We fight on, and we will not stop fighting.

He summons that fire with his call, and the sparks spiral around him in a manner no natural wind could create. He does not fear the fire. The flames always feel like the warmth of his father standing behind him, and their dance at his voice feels like his father’s love for his songs.

He does not fear the flame. Instead, it pushes him on to greater heights as he sings out the chorus for the second time, and his people join the tune, singing it back and whirling into motion as they dance upon the plains.

The song is a new one, made up on the spot, so they fall silent at every new verse before catching up the chorus, again and again.

He could sing for hours - has sung for hours judging by the moon’s progress in the sky - but he could sing for hours more if he had not caught sight of the face standing at the edge of the fire’s light. He brings the song to a triumphant conclusion and then bows and beckons for a young bard he’s been teaching to come take his place. She looks more than a little doubtful, but she comes forward anyway.

“How am I supposed to follow that?” she hisses in a whisper under the cover of the roar of approval coming from the audience.

“With your own undoubtable skill,” he says firmly, and she nods in a show of confidence before striking up a light dancing tune that soon has everyone moving again.

He smiles in approval and slips away to where he saw the face, but it’s vanished again in the crowd. He frowns, turning. Surely he would not have gone far?

“Truly you are the mightiest singer of the Noldor,” a voice says from behind him, and Maglor turns, delighted.

“Maedhros! There you are. I thought I saw you, but I wasn’t expecting you tonight. No ill news, I hope?”

“No ill news,” Maedhros promises as he greets him with a quick embrace. “Or at least none that you are not already aware of. I’d come with warnings about a larger than usual force moving against you, but fortunately, it seems they were unnecessary. I trust I am not unwelcome despite my lack of useful purpose?”

“Never,” Maglor promises. “Especially if you are going to compliment my singing.”

Maedrhos laughs. “Surely you must be sick of compliments in that area by now.”

“If ever I grow weary of compliments, then you can consider me well and weary of this world. And it’s always nice to hear someone calling me the best singer of the Noldor without Curufin following it up by saying, ‘Or the loudest anyway.’ I think he still hasn’t forgiven me for waking him up at all hours back in Tirion.”

“Technically, I didn’t say ‘best,’ I said ‘mightiest,’” Maedrhos says thoughtfully. “Mightiest could be interpreted to mean loudest.”

“If it’s volume you want, I’d be more than happy to personally come wake you up tomorrow morning.”

Maedhros holds up his hands in defeat, eyes still laughing. “Peace, brother, peace! You are the best and the loudest, and many other things besides. Such as a very competent military commander who doesn’t need his older brother anymore, apparently.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I need you.” Maglor waits a beat. “After all, if it weren’t for you, I’d be the one responsible for sorting out our younger brothers.”

Maedhros’s groan is even more pronounced than he’d expected. That could be unfortunate.

“What have they done now?”

“Nothing so bad,” Maedhros admits. “Caranthir was rather tactless, I’m afraid, but it was only to Curufin, so at least it’s only going to cause a family squabble, not a political one.”

“Tactless in a letter, or . . . ?”

“They’re both visiting at the moment,” Maedhros says. “And it’s nothing very bad, truly. I’m nearly certain they’re just doing it for fun at this point.”

“And yet, here you are, coming to me with a warning you must have surely realized it would be too late to give, instead of being the good host I know Mother raised you to be.”

Maedhros shrugs helplessly. “It’s a good deal of fun for them.”

“And so you won’t ruin it by telling them to stop and instead rode out to me when you could take it no more. Well, that makes a certain kind of sense. It would have made for a terrible song if you’d been killed by orcs while traveling alone to get away from our brothers’ bickering, but it makes a certain amount of sense.”

“A song is only as good as its singer,” Maedhros says. “I’m sure you could have made something of it.”

“With enough poetic license, you can make a good song out of anything.”

One of Maedhros’s eyebrows rises in challenge. “Anything?”

Maglor already has a feeling he’s going to regret this, but he nods. “Anything.”

“That blade of grass, right there.” He points.

Maglor is not actually sure which one he’s pointing to, but it probably doesn’t matter. “Give me a few hours, and I’ll have something,” he promises. What, he has no idea, but he’ll figure something out, or he’ll sing Maedhros into falling asleep and then tell him that he missed the truly epic song that Maglor composed and performed while he rested, and that he couldn’t possibly sing it again as the blade of grass had been tragically crushed in everyone’s mad rush to congratulate him. His people will back him up on the story if he asks it of them, he’s fairly sure.

“You have until your apprentice finishes her song.”

“She’s on the last verse.”

“I have confidence in you, oh, mightiest singer of the Noldor.”

“I’m going to sing about that blade of grass being the cause of the much lamented Maedhros’s downfall,” Maglor says pleasantly and strides forward into the light, fingers already itching with the start of a tune.

I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone else comes up with!

#silmarillion #fic #maedhros #maglor #feanorianfunbingo

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