#American expatriates

[rodspurethoughts]

"The Impact of US-Philippine Defense Agreement on BPO Industry and Economic Growth"

The recently signed Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement (EDCA) between the United States and the Philippines has brought about unexpected economic growth for the Southeast Asian nation. The agreement, which was signed in 2014, focuses on strengthening the military alliance between the two countries, but it has also had a significant impact on the Philippine economy. One of the key…

[corallapis]

Henry ‘Chips’ Channon: The Diaries (Vol. 1), 1918-38, entry for 18th January 1924

—

Friday 18th January

Geneva, Hotel Bellevue

It is comic being here and living in such close intimacy with Lord Buckmaster, a man of 75.¹ He is the most brilliant rapier-like brain I have ever come in contact with. It has a knife-like manner for unnecessary detail and almost an instinct for detecting irrelevance. And the energy of the man is remarkable. He takes me on endless walks until I almost drop. Slowly I am creeping into his confidence, if not his affections! We have found points of contact — the French Revolution, his adoration of Marie Antoinette; Ruby Peto,² with whom he is much in love . . . He is a champion of the downtrodden, of the underdog — women especially interest him. He rather summarily dismisses all men as 'rotters' and seducers of women. We did several hours' work, made very quick by his rapier-like brain, and then wandered about Geneva — it is a most unattractive city — it is so clean, so damnably prosperous, so smug, so Protestant — oppressingly Calvinistic. I like my abroad to be Catholic and sensual. I long for yells and smells, cathedrals and great marketplaces, old streets and antiquaries. None of them exist in this bourgeois place. The lake is unreal — the postcard background with the white cone of Mont Blanc visible in the distance. The Swiss are such an unimaginative, prosperous race devoid of all charm they might almost be Americans.

—

He was 63.

Frances Ruby Vera Lindsay (1884-1951), daughter of Lieutenant Colonel Walter James Lindsay, married Ralph Harding Peto (1877-1945), diplomat, in 1909, but they divorced in 1923.

[shodansbabygirl]

Someone remind me to remake that poll with a 7 day timer

[centrepiecefurnishing]

Why Singaporeans Should Consider Reupholstery for Their High-End Sofas

For Singaporeans, reupholstering high-end sofas combines practicality with luxury. It offers a cost-effective, sustainable,

Reupholstering high-end sofas is an excellent choice for Singaporeans, offering a blend of sustainability, cost-efficiency, and personalized style. Here are several compelling reasons to opt for reupholstery: 1. Cost-Effectiveness High-Quality Sofas: High-end sofas are significant investments. Reupholstering allows you to preserve the structural integrity and quality of an expensive piece…

[bottegapowerpoint]

Frederick Carl Frieseke, Bal-Bullier, Paris

[instructorschool]

According to HSBC’s Expat Explorer Survey, 75% of respondents (21,950 respondents worldwide) say: their finances have become more complicated since they left their home country.

So to avoid some regrettable mistakes, we have put together this guide to help you choose rightly.

[antonio-m]

“Man reading”, c.1879 by John Singer Sargent. American expatriate artist in Florence. oil on canvas

[milla-frenchy]

Empty spaces

3k3 | Javier Peña x reader ; Steve Murphy x reader Summary: Javi walks away from you, and you don't know how to handle the situation anymore Warnings: 18+ mdni. Infidelity, angst, light dacryphilia, oral (f/m), masturbation (m), piv. No age specified. a/n: as always, thank you so much Kate @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for correcting me, and for the last minutes adjustments 💕🫶 Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates The tittle is from some lyrics of Affection by Between friends ao3 | masterlist

Steve looked at his partner. They had worked together for years and had faced the worst. They had supported each other every time Escobar had escaped from them, every time they had found themselves in the ambassador's office. They had spent countless evenings in bars. And despite everything, Steve couldn't help but betray him.

You had met Connie while working at the same clinic as her, and you two quickly got along well. You were both American, and your situation as expatriates and partners of DEA agents had brought you together. The four of you, with Javi and Steve, had become quite close, often going out to bars or restaurants, or had dinners at home. You really liked Steve. Since then, Connie had left, and Steve was your only friend in Bogota. You often confided in him when you felt the need and supported him as well since he was alone.

One evening, you went to his house, worried and jaded, because Javi was moving further and further away from you. Or rather, from anything that wasn't related to his job.

Escobar was an obsession and Carillo's murder had broken something in him. He stayed later in the bars, and when he came home, he smelled of whisky and frustration. You tried to help him, to talk about it, but he kept getting more and more withdrawn. You no longer waited for him to go to bed, and he no longer woke you up as often as before when he came home in the early morning. For a long time before, you had loved feeling him lying between your thighs while you were barely awake, covering you with kisses, flooding you with his “mmmm… cariño, I missed you so much today. You missed this cock?” as you would respond with “oh god, Javi, yes! Yes, fuck me, please.” And he would sink into you, making you scream on his shaft, to the point where sometimes he had to cover your mouth with his hand, to prevent the neighbors from pounding on the apartment door, while he was pounding you on the bed.

​He had never got tired of eating your pussy, but now he dove between your thighs less and less. He even asked you to get up, one evening when you knelt between his knees to blow him, to make him forget everything else.

It was that evening that you left, first driving through the streets of Bogota. And without really realizing it, you found yourself in front of Steve's house, hesitant before knocking on the door. You told him everything, no longer holding back your tears.

Steve hesitated before hugging you. “Fuck,” he thought. He wasn't going to leave you like that, without consoling you, when you already felt rejected at home. Your cries gradually gave way to sniffles, and his cock twitched. “Fuck,” he thought a second time. He wanted to turn slightly away, not wanting you to notice his bulge. But you clung to him reflexively, afraid he would move away, and he felt you freeze.

“I’m sorry, I…” he started to say.

You looked up at him, and both of you lost your mind. Your wet eyes made him lose his mind. A moment, frozen in time, turned into a searing kiss, so impatient and urgent, that none of you stopped while you undressed. He held you close to have your bare skin against his, your breasts against his torso. And finally, you looked at each other. A moment in time, wondering if you were really going to cross that line. Steve broke the silence, asking “what do you want, baby?”

“Wanna feel you Steve. Please. Make me feel something.”

He nodded and grabbed your hand, leading you to the couch, where he asked you to lie down. Kneeling on the floor, he took off your panties, so slowly that you felt yourself melt, and he spread your thighs to open you up for him. The moonlight was illuminating the room, and he looked at your body. He placed his hand on your cheek, and slid it gently down your neck, between your breasts, and watched your nipples harden after his touch. His breathing accelerated, while his hand continued to move down, to your belly that he caressed, then your crotch. He placed his hand flat on your pussy and felt your warmth against his palm. You arched your back, feeling him against you, seeing his gaze on you. He wanted you, he really wanted you, and you no longer knew what it felt like, until now, on his couch. You realized how much you missed it.

He moved his thumb up along your folds, after having covered it with your wetness, until he reached your clit that he gently caressed. He looked at your body and your skin, the way your hairs stood up under his touch. Your back arched again, when his mouth covered your pussy. He licked delicately between your folds, feeling you flinch against his tongue, and took your hand in his. As if to reassure you, or to reassure himself, he didn’t know. His heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was going to explode.

His tongue entered you further, licking up all the wetness that flowed from your core. He sometimes felt it dripping from his chin, and became more and more intoxicated by you, his nose brushing perfectly against your clit. Your free hand squeezed one of your breasts, and you matched the movements of your hips with his tongue, rolling them against him.

Steve pushed two fingers into your pussy and slid his tongue up to your clit. He looked at you, as the tip tickled where his nose was a few seconds ago. Your eyes were closed, and this vision of you, lit by the moon, made him obsessed. He kept fingering you, slowly, and then placed his lips around your clit, sucking gently, and you moaned. He pulled his fingers out and stroked himself with your wetness, before he started gently jerking his hard as steel cock, matching his rhythm to his tongue, now swirling on your clit.

He parted his lips for a few seconds, still fucking you with his fingers, and said “I ain’t gonna fuck you. Ain’t gonna cross that line. But you’re gonna cum on my tongue.” His tongue on you again, he squeezed your hand tighter, and his wrist tightened on his shaft too.

“Steve…”

“I know, baby, I know. I can feel it coming. Let it happen, baby. Let go for me.”

Yet, he couldn't stop himself from moving his tongue from your clit to your folds, even though he knew it delayed your orgasm. He wanted to lick all your wetness coming out of your soaked hole. To eat you all. Until you grabbed his head with your hand, making him keep his tongue on your clit.

“Wanna come Steve, please. Please, make me come.”

He squeezed your hand tighter, jerked himself harder, his tongue now focusing on your clit. He heard you moan louder, and your hips tilted up towards his mouth. You tensed one last time as your orgasm hit you, and he came as you said his name, sending his cum all over his thighs and on the couch.

He caressed the soft skin of your belly, until your breathing finally calmed and returned to normal, occasionally lapping at your pussy, still thirsty for your taste. He stopped before overstimulating you, and you sat up. He reached up and kissed you, running his hand along your cheek.

When you went back home, Javi was sleeping. You slipped into the sheets, very carefully, so as not to wake him up. Guilt started twisting your stomach. He placed his hand on your belly in his sleep, and your throat tightened.

The days passed without anything changing between Javi and you. You tried not to think too much about that night at Steve’s. Javi had told you that things had been a bit tense between them, and that they had come to blows. 

You and Steve hadn't seen each other again, until the day when you were waiting for Javi in your car, in the DEA parking lot. He walked over to you when he saw you, and asked kindly how you were going. You smiled shyly at him, telling him that it was pretty much okay. But it wasn’t, and he knew it. Javi arrived, and Steve wished you a good evening as he left for his car.

You came home, and the evening passed almost in silence. You looked at Javi, his eyebrows furrowed. You were both so close and so far away, a distance that seemed insurmountable. When you were ready to go to bed, he took his jacket and told you he was going out. The door closed behind him and for two minutes you stood at the bedroom door. “Fuck you, Javi”, you thought, grabing your jacket and slamming the door behind you when you left the appartment.

“What happened?” Steve asked when he opened the door.

“He fucking left. I was going to bed, and he told me he was going out.”

You took your pack of cigarettes and lit one, before sitting down on the couch next to him. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Steve. I understand your job is stressful, I really do. And this fucking Escobar is always getting away. But I would like to be there to help him, you know? I can help him more than the whiskey he drinks in bars.”

You shook your head and tears gathered at the corner of your eyes but you quickly wiped them away.

“Javi told me you two had a fight. What happened?"

“Photos that I kept in the office ended up in the wrong hands. I thought Javi had leaked them.”

“Steve, come on. You know he’d never do that to you.”

“Yeah, like he would never think I’d - ” He cut himself off before finishing his sentence, shaking his head without looking at you, but you knew too well what he was thinking. You lit a second cigarette, immediately after putting out the first.

“Why did you react like that? And cut the crap.”

In a low voice, he said “you know why.” He looked at you and it made you regret asking. There was too much affection in his eyes.

“Because I care about you. Because you’re not happy. Because if we were together I wouldn’t be in a bar right now.”

You frowned when you heard his words. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.”

You got up and went to the window.

“Have you heard from Connie?”

“No. She’s been very clear last time. We're taking a break, at best. At worst, it's over.”

He joined you by the window, walking silently with his bare feet, and told you that maybe you should go home, that Javi might be worried. You nodded and brushed past him on your way to the front door but he grabbed your wrist. You stayed like that, side by side, without daring to look at each other for a few seconds, his hand frozen on your wrist.

“Tell me you want me to leave,” you whispered.

“I don’t want you to leave”, he replied. 

A few seconds passed before you spoke again, telling him that Javi and you hadn't had sex, since the other night. You turned to him, knowing you shouldn’t have told him that but unable to resist either.  You added, “I guess he didn’t want to. Neither did I. Was thinking about you.” Your voice was nothing more than a thin trickle that he could barely hear. 

This time you didn't hold back the tears that were rolling on your cheeks. His cock got hard, and he couldn’t help but stare into your watery eyes.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to not go further than last time, you know…”

“Well I don’t think I want you to stop, Steve.”

You pressed yourself against him, your crotch against his, and you gasped when you felt his cock against you. His hands rested on your cheeks as your starving lips devoured each other, and your tongues mingled. Your hands were pressed against his back to hold him against you.

Still kissing him, your hands finally slid up to the nape of his neck and you heard him growl in your ear. You continued to roam his body, your hands slowly moving down his torso. You barely touched him the night before and this time you wanted to feel him under your fingers. You wanted to feel his skin and imprint the sensation in your mind. When your hands reached his waist, you pressed his body against yours and feeling his bulge made you moan into his mouth.

You slipped your hand in his sweatpants. All you wanted was to touch his cock, to feel every inch of him. Delicately, you took it in your hand before taking it out, then you slid his sweatpants down his thighs, and removed them entirely, while you knelt before him.

“You don’t have to….but shit, yeah…wanna feel your lips on my cock.”

You could see his cock in the shadow of the moon, and it was gorgeous. Long and thick, slightly curved. You ran your thumb over the slit, spreading the precum on the tip, before looking up at him and sucking your finger.

“Fuck, babe”, he said, and you smiled. You wanted to please him, and knowing that he wanted you, was craving you, made you drool even more in your panties. You took his tip in your mouth, your tongue gently swirling around its slit. Your hand squeezed his cock and your thumb caressed one of his balls. Your lips rounded around his shaft, your tongue pressed against his skin, you applied yourself to suck him, feeling him shiver in your mouth. When you were able to take him fully into your mouth, you stopped at the base of his shaft, letting his tip wiggle against the back of your throat. You heard him groan, as his hand squeezed your shoulder, and he whispered “wait, sugar please, uh…It's been a while since... this and I ain’t gonna last if you keep doin’ this.”

You stood up and he covered your cheeks with his hands, searching for your lips then your tongue hungrily, before grabbing your ass with his hands and pressing you against him. Then his fingers fought against the buttons of your blouse as you pulled his t-shirt over his head. When he took off your clothing, you wanted to unhook your bra, but he stopped you, saying "no lemme... lemme look at you. Please."

His voice was wavering and on the verge of breaking. You let your arms fall to your sides, while he ran his fingers from your neck to the roundness of your breasts, taking them in his hand while following their shape. He unhooked your bra, and his thumbs caressed your nipples, so delicately that they became even harder. His gaze left your breasts to meet yours, and all you saw was the fire burning there. He knelt down to remove your shoes, pants and panties, and he kissed your mound, making your clit twitch instantly as the memory of the previous night hadn't left you. His tongue slipped between your folds, and he groaned as he felt your wetness, his hands clenching on your ass. But quickly he stood up, and said “I need to fuck you baby, or I’m gonna lose my damn mind”, and you knew he meant it, deep inside.

Kissing you, he led you to his bed, where you lay on your back. Steve asked, “spread your legs for me” but he couldn’t wait and gently pushed them apart with his knee before settling between your thighs. He waited for a few seconds, searching for your eyes, but quickly grabbed his cock and pushed it into your entrance, as if he was afraid that you would change your mind, or scared to read the doubt in your eyes. He ran his hand over your cheek while you got used to his girth, but your need to feel him was too strong. Too urgent. You grabbed his ass to press him against you and moved your pelvis towards him, fucking yourself on his cock.

“Fuck, baby what ya doin’? Gonna hurt yourself.”

“I wanna feel you. Please, let me do it. Don’t let go of me, I can take it.”

“Ok ok, I won’t, I’m right here. I’m with you.” His eyebrows furrowed looking at you, as you couldn’t help but gasp, feeling every inch of his cock spreading your folds, but you wanted to feel him more, always more. Until he was balls deep inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled back before thrusting in again, pounding you into the mattress with slow but deep strokes. You didn’t take your eyes off each other, except for the rare moments where he kissed your forehead or your lips, his hand caressing your cheek. 

And you had forgotten it, this feeling. Of being desired, wanted. Your own desire to melt into someone else. He was giving you all of this in this moment, and you felt your heart flutter, as you were drinking up this long-forgotten feeling. Your hips now accompanied his, as if in a dance, as if you knew each other for years, intimately. But you didn’t, and it heightened your feelings tenfold. Your eyes were fixed on his, and you read in his furrowed eyebrows and his stare, the same perplexity that seized him, about your proximity.

“Fuck… yeah, keep moving your hips like this. Shit… gonna cum if you keep goin’, baby.”

“I won’t stop”, you murmured and stroked his biceps, then squeezed them with your hands to prevent him from escaping from your embrace.

“I need you to come, baby. Need to feel your pussy clench my cock,” he added, pressing his torso to yours, and you started to rub your clit against him. His face buried in your neck, and his hand resting on your cheek, he continued to fuck you, at a very slow pace this time, and you whimpered, “Steve, I’m so close…” just before you came on his shaft. “Fuck, baby… you’re coming so hard for me,” he managed to mumble. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside”, you breathed out. He didn't ask if you were sure, he knew you were. “Look at me…fuck, you’re takin’ me so good”, he groaned just before pulsing inside you. And you hugged him as tight as you were able to, already dreading his pulling away from you. Once you milked his cock, you felt his body relax over yours and he kissed your neck. You lay against each other without speaking, your fingers running up and down his forearm. When you sat up a few minutes later, he slipped his arms through an old shirt that he probably wore to sleep, without putting it on, and as you were about to get out of bed he pulled it over your head, to hold you against him. You looked at each other but it created a lump in your throat. “What now?”, you thought.

“What are we gonna do, Steve?”

“I don’t know, baby”, he replied, shaking his head slowly.

He released you and you got dressed, holding back the tears that appeared in the corners of your eyes.

When you got back to the apartment, Javi was lying on the couch smoking a cigarette, and he stood up looking at you with a worried look.

“Where have you been, cariño? I was worried.”

“Went out to get some fresh air. I’m going to bed, Javi.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I'm not there for you like I should be. But I will try, I promise.”

You nodded and went to bed, and as you lay there, his torso against your back, you hoped he wouldn't slip his hand into your panties, as Steve's cum was still dripping lightly from your pussy.

********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[eddy25960]

Dr. Pozzi at Home (portrait of Dr. Samuel Jean Pozzi), c.1881 by John Singer Sargent (1856-1925). American expatriate artist. Hammer Museum, Los Angeles, CA. oil on canvas.

[tzatairovic]

The unofficial tz bookclub

August 2024 books:

“David is a young American expatriate who has just proposed marriage to his girlfriend, Hella. While she is away on a trip, David meets a bartender named Giovanni to whom he is drawn in spite of himself. Soon the two are spending the night in Giovanni’s curtainless room, which he keeps dark to protect their privacy. But Hella’s return to Paris brings the affair to a crisis, one that rapidly spirals into tragedy.

David struggles for self-knowledge during one long, dark night—“the night which is leading me to the most terrible morning of my life.” With a sharp, probing imagination, James Baldwin's now-classic narrative delves into the mystery of loving and creates a deeply moving story of death and passion that reveals the unspoken complexities of the human heart.”

“For Josh Harper, being in show-business means everything he ever wanted - money, fame, a beautiful wife, and a lead role on the London stage. For Stephen C. McQueen, it means a disastrous career playing passers-by and dead people.

Stephen is stuck with an unfortunate name, a hopeless agent, a daughter he barely knows, and a job as understudy to Josh Harper, the 12th Sexiest Man in the World. And when Stephen falls in love with Josh's clever, funny wife Nora, things get even more difficult.

But might there yet be a way for Stephen to get his Big Break?”

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Mildred Harnack

Mildred “Mili” Harnack was a writer and academic from Wisconsin who moved to Berlin with her German husband in 1930. As Hitler rose to power, Mili created the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany and was targeted for execution by the Fuhrer himself.

Mili was born Mildred Fish in Milwaukee in 1902. Her father William was a teacher, and her mother Georgina was an activist for women’s suffrage. Mili had a natural facility with languages, and was fluent in German by the time she reached adulthood. Throughout her life, Mili loved German literature and culture. She attended the University of Wisconsin in Madison, where she majored in English literature. Mili lived in a rooming house popular with writers, and worked as a film and drama critic for a local newspaper.

After receiving her BA, Mili went on to earn an MA in English in 1925. The next year she moved back to Milwaukee and worked as a lecturer at the Milwaukee State Normal School (now the University of Wisconsin – Milwaukee.) She met Arvid Harnack, a German economist and lawyer who was studying at the university on a Rockefeller fellowship. Arvid was from a prominent family of German intellectuals. After a whirlwind love affair, they were married in August 1926 at her brother’s farm. Arvid’s fellowship ended and he returned to Germany, followed by Mili the year later, after she completed a teaching session at Goucher College in Baltimore.

In Germany, Mili worked on her doctoral thesis and lectured at universities in German cities Jena and Giessen. The country was plunging deeper into political turmoil, and the Nazi party was rising to power amid the chaos. More than half of Mili’s students were outspoken Nazis. She moved to Berlin in 1930 to be with her husband, and began working as an assistant lecturer in English and American literature at the University of Berlin. Mili lectured about her favorite English and American writers including Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman, Thomas Hardy and George Bernard Shaw. She was so popular with students that in just a year and a half, enrollment in the class tripled.

Mili connected with other American expatriates in Berlin and formed a literary salon where anti-Nazi academics and intellectuals could express themselves freely. By 1934, the Nazi secret police were everywhere and the salon was disbanded. Fellow ex-pat Martha Dodd, a close friend of Mili’s, later described her Berlin salon as “the last of the meager remnants of free thought.” Many of those who had participated in the salons continued to meet in the Harnacks’ living room but instead of discussing literature, they planned anti-Nazi political activism

Meanwhile, Mili achieved renown as a writer. She published essays in prominent German literary journals until the mid-30’s, when magazines started to print only “approved opinions” (in support of Hitler). She was able to continue working as a translator, and her German-language translation of Irving Stone’s biography of Vincent van Gogh, Lust for Life, was published in 1936.

Mili returned to the U.S. on a book tour in 1937, and her old friends were shocked at the drastic change in her personality. Earlier she had been friendly and easy-going, but four years living under Nazi rule made Mili anxious, stiff and guarded. She’d had to wear a metaphorical mask to survive in the totalitarian German state, and couldn’t shed the mask even when she left Europe. Mili’s family urged her to stay in the U.S. but she was determined to return to her husband and her political activism group, now called “The Circle.”

Mili’s unassuming manner combined with an extremely sharp intellect enabled her to penetrate the highest circles of German politics and diplomacy. She used these connections to get exit and travel visas for Jewish friends and colleagues, among them prominent publisher Max Tau. Mili also surreptitiously gleaned information from highly placed contacts, which she transmitted to fellow members of the resistance.

Mildred was fired from her teaching job at the University of Berlin because of her political beliefs, and she began teaching at night school, where her students were mostly working class or unemployed. She recruited many of them to join The Circle. The group published anti-Nazi leaflets, written by Mildred, and secretly left stacks of them in public places throughout the city.

German intelligence called them “the Red Orchestra” and falsely smeared them as communists working for the Soviets. Undeterred, the group increased their activities and cooperated with other resistance units. Around this time Mili wrote, “I saw it clearly before my eyes. From then on our work not only implies the risk of losing our freedom, from now on death was a possibility.” Led by Mili, The Circle became the largest resistance group in Nazi Germany. They incited civil disobedience against the Nazi regime, documented Nazi atrocities, and transmitted military intelligence to the Allies.

In the summer of 1942, the Nazis intercepted radio transmissions that revealed the identity of prominent resistance fighters including the Harnacks. On September 7, Mili and Arvid were arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned. Arvid was tried by the Reich Military Tribunal and sentenced to death on December 19. He was hanged three days later at Plotzensee Prison.

Mili languished in a squalid prison cell for months, where she was tortured and contracted tuberculosis. She went on trial and was sentenced to six years in prison. However, Hitler heard about the American woman who fought so effectively against his regime, and he ordered a new trial for Mili. The kangaroo court delivered a pre-determined death sentence, and at Hitler’s explicit request Mili was beheaded by guillotine on February 16, 1943. Her last words were, “And I have loved Germany so much!” After her execution, Mili’s body was given to an anatomy professor at Humboldt University to dissect for research. After he finished, he gave the rest of her remains to a friend of hers, who had Mili buried in Zehlendorf Cemetery in Berlin.

The only writing that survived from her time in prison were a few translated lines from Goethe: “In all the frequent troubles of our days/A God gave compensation – more his praise/In looking sky-and heavenward as duty/In sunshine and in virtue and in beauty.”

Mildred’s brave actions and tragic death have not been forgotten. In Berlin, a street and a school are named for her, and in her native Wisconsin schools observe Mildred Fish Harnack Day. The University of Wisconsin-Madison hosts an annual Mildred Fish-Harnack Human RIghts and Democracy Lecture, and a sculpture of Mili was unveiled in Madison in 2019.

For fighting Hitler at the cost of her own life, we honor Mildred Harnack as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Image: Gestapo mug shots of Mildred taken after her arrest in 1942.

[inbarfink]

The answer to the question of ‘is Manfred von Karma German?’ Is actually a surprisingly complicated one. 

Because in the original version of ‘Ace Attorney’ he is supposed to be a local. That is to say, Japanese. He has a Japanese name (Gō Karuma), he has Implied Off-Screen Japanese Ancestors implied in TGAA2, we pretty much exclusively see him prosecuting cases in Japan, and official media created by official Japanese creatives primarily shows him living in Japan (eg. the Anime).

And then you have Mei/Franziska. Who, in the original Japanese version, was born, raised and studied law in the USA. (And yes, both the Japanese and Localized version say born, I checked).  And she does occasionally refer to herself as Separate and Different from the ‘local’ Japanese characters, there’s this little piece of official art riffing on how much she differs from Larry/Yahari’s idea of an American Woman.

 But she also still has a Japanese name (although I’ve seen some speculation that ‘Mei’ was chosen for the character because it’ll be an easy name to Englishize as ‘May’) and is, you know… still the daughter of the guy we exclusively see running around Japan. The only scene they have together in Game-Canon is when Mei is visiting Japan for vacation in ‘Turnabout Reminiscence’. So while the implication is that Mei did spend most of her time growing up in the US, we don't know how much time Gō spent there. 

And then the American Localization came along, switched Japan to America and America to Germany and then also added the extra wrinkle of giving Gou Karuma the decidedly German-sounding name ‘Manfred von Karma’. Thereby giving him a much bigger implied connection with the country-where-his-daughter-was-born-and-raised then the original, even though every other piece of textual evidence remained the same. He is STILL only seen prosecuting cases in 'America' and, if you add in the Anime narrative and TGAA2 espacially, the plot really doesn't make sense if you assume he lives for any significant amount of time in Germany.

Sure, with the name and all it's hard to deny that he probably has some relation to Germany, but with how the actual text of the game work it's easier to say he's a German expatriate or just an American of German ancestry, then how the Fandom often depicts him - as a man who lives and work in Germany and only occasionally jumps over to also do some work in Japanifornia.

But.... then there's the whole thing with Franziska/Mei being born and raised in Germarica. And I would like to say something like, ‘well, considering this fact, obviously regardless of version Manfred still did actually do lot of business in both Japanifornia and Germarica and spent a lot of time in both countries. It's really just a matter of us not seeing his Amerigerman cases cause they are all obviously Off-Screen for our manin characters. And while Gou Karuma might come across more as a Japanese man who occasionally also works in the US, the changed implications of the name means that Manfred von Karma is probably meant to be read as a German man who occusionally does work in the US. Because OBVIOUSLY he must have spent many years in Germarica considering his own daughter was born and raised there.’

But I can’t.

Because if there is one character who would watch his wife give birth in whatever country has the best law schools and then fuck off back to his homeland while leaving his baby to fend to herself across the the Pacifitlantic ocean - it would be fucking Manfred von Karma!

[omegalomania]

They just sat back laughing at the wounded city, each breath sucking in ashes and fumes. Oh it bled all right; drier than Moore County. All expatriate flames hurrying to found new nations of blinding dust. But the two of them, they just squinted at that pipe-cleaner skyline, and it burned hotter in their oil slick pupils. One elbowed the other and said “I’ve seen better.” Knowing that they were paid to remember the past - he blew out a hot breath and said “burn it all”.

Save Rock and Roll is the fifth studio album by American rock band Fall Out Boy. It was produced by Butch Walker and released on April 12, 2013, through Island Records.

HAPPY TEN YEARS TO SAVE ROCK AND ROLL, from @twinkskeletons, @heartbreakfeelsogood, @vanweezer, @smashallguitars, @ybcpatrick, @patrickmstump, @clandestine-rabbit, and @omegalomania!

[centrepiecefurnishing]

Searching for sofa upholstery services near You?

So, you think you want to reupholster your couch? Let me first say that reupholstering a sofa is not an easy task and it is definitely a job that requires more than one person. Most of the time the reason sofas have to be reupholstered is because they are

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[yourblackhearts]

So You Want To Learn More About Palestine

Yes, the news is scary. Yes, there is a lot going on. Yes it can be very overwhelming. But we live in the information age and knowing what the heck is going on always helps when dealing with misinformation. "I don't know enough about what's going on to say anything about Palestine" is a fair response to have - but not a reason to stop there. So! Here's a short list of reading resources to get you started 💜

Edward W. Said was a Palestinian-American academic, literary critic and political activist who has written countless books on the subject. Any of his works would be a good place to start, but I recommend The Question of Palestine (1992) along with his memoir, Out of Place (1999)

2. Rashid Khalidi is another Palestinian-American academic and historian with MANY books on Palestine and its struggles. For him I recommend Palestinian Identity: The Construction of Modern National Consciousness (1998) and The Hundred Years' War on Palestine (2020)

3. On a more personal note - and as a recommendation for someone who may not be super big on dense non-fiction, I recommend Joe Sacco's graphic novel Palestine (2001) where he writes about his experiences in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip in December 1991 and January 1992. I read this for my Rhetoric of Human Rights class and really enjoyed it, and it's easy to help you get your foot in the door.

4. Ilan Pappé is an expatriate Israeli historian and political scientist who has also written a few books on the subject. I recommend The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine (2006) and A History of Modern Palestine: One Land, Two Peoples (2003)

5. This last one is less Palestine-centric and more about the global struggle against violence and oppression. Angela Davis' Freedom Is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement (2016)

Do you want to dive deeper? Find more resources? Deconstruct a few myths you may or may not have heard through social media and otherwise? May I kindly direct you to decolonizepalestine - which is where I found a good number of these book recommendations myself!

"But Gaby, I don't wanna buy all these books!" Dude I'm not asking you to. I will, however ask you to:

Get a library card and check your local library

Take a look at academic databases like JSTOR if you're in college

Check archive.org for some of the older books

Try

I don't want there to be any mistake: Palestinians are victims of settler-colonialism. What they're facing right now is a genocide, with a long-standing history behind it enabled by some of the most powerful countries in the world. Learn about it. Speak about it.

It's still Free Palestine.