#Tailhade

[ttimekeepsrollingby]

Chorros macristas

El macrismo robó y transó tanto con narcos que aparecen los escándalos día tras día. Ritondo y Santilli no pueden esconder la plata mal habida. Un testaferro, un tal Nores, al que le hicieron firmar por miles de millones de dólares, trafica droga adulterada y mata famosos. Chorearon tanto… Merca alterada y curros macristas Imagen: Perfil.

[scribl1ta]

Georges-Antoine Rochegrosse's illustrations for Petronius' Satyricon trans. Laurent Tailhade, 1910

More info and sources below the cut

Image credits: I II III IV V

You can read the full translation here.

I love these paintings so much!! This edition would be so beautiful to have, although I think I would get distracted if I tried to actually read it😅Rochegrosse also did some gorgeous smaller illustrations throughout the text, which I did my best to edit together from the scan linked above:

[tonin-terets]

Secours Populaire Français - Pierre from NŌBL on Vimeo.

Pierre, on the other hand, is a proud entrepreneur with a successful garage business. He would like to name Secours Populaire as the beneficiary of his life insurance policy. “To carry on doing good, even when I'm no longer around.” Pierre

Direction: NŌBL

Client: SECOURS POPULAIRE FRANÇAIS

Creative direction: Cyril Izarn & Julien Nantiec

Script: Timothée Chevalier

Illustration: Maxime Lacombe

Animation: Florent Tailhades, Xavi Siria

Editing & Compositing: Julien Nantiec, Cyril Izarn

Music & sound design: Mars octobre music

[sobrelaanarquiayotrostemas]

Laurent Tailhade (Vida y obra)

Tal día como el 16 de abril de hace 170 años nació Laurent Tailhade. Nació el 16 de abril de 1854 en Tarbes,  Altos Pirineos, Occitania, (Francia) y murió el 2 de noviembre de 1919 en Combs-la-Ville, Sena y Marne, Isla de Francia, (Francia). Fue un poeta satírico francés, polemista anarquista, ensayista, escritor y traductor.

[ethos-a-cambiado]

Me cago en la "jugada maestra" de Cristina para unir al peronismo. Me cago en la "unidad a pesar de todo" y sin ningún proyecto político-económico para el 2019. Me cago en el miedo de Alberto en ejercer el liderazgo del movimiento. Me cago en la ineptitud de Alberto Fernandez. Me cago en Cristina jugando a ser opositora cuidando el "legado", manchando ese legado en el proceso. Me cago en Cristina que no tomó el rol que si tomó Lula para ser la líder de un peronismo más "racional" en lo económico. Me cago en ese año del kirchnerismo solo hablando de Lawfare e ignorando la economía. Me cago en esa semana de crisis de quién era el ministro de economía. Me cago en aceptar un programa inflacionario del FMI a pesar de todo. Me cago en eso de meterle dirigentes a las listas de Milei para que pueda competir en elecciones. Me cago en jugar tan liviano en las PASO sin sentido sin ver que, capaz, con 3 puntos y medio más se ganaba en primera vuelta. Me cago en el forro de Tailhade, un dirigente como tantos otros, que solo piensan en si mismos y en su pequeño grupo de representación. Me cago en tener nada importante que militarle a Massa ¿Qué le milito? ¿Su gestión de seguridad en Tigre? Me cago en que Massa haya aceptado el devaluar como decía el FMI. Me cago en que sienta que, a pesar de todo, haya sido Massa el mejor candidato posible. Me cago en que la oposición tampoco tenga un candidato que no sea un desastre. Me cago en Mauricio Macri jugando a destruir a Larreta por su ambición de ser influyente. Me cago en esta alquimia increíble que creó Massa, Macri y Cristina que nos trajeron a este balotaje con lo peor del anarco-capitalismo vende órgano . Me cago en Mauricio Macri y en el negacionista hijo de puta de Javier Milei. Me cago en que esto pueda ser cualquier cosa ¿Qué será? ¿Un gobierno parecido al 1999-2001? ¿o será 1976-1978? ¿o será un 1989-1999 pero ultra acelerado? ¿O, peor, será nuestro propio 1935 de la república de Weimar?

Si tengo ganas escribiré algo más analítico. Hoy solo quiero estar triste y enojado.

Si gana Massa escribiré un cuento, si gana Milei hago un ensayo tirando caca para todos lados.

[temapolitico]

Jueces no pagarán impuesto a las ganancias

La oposición logró hacer su guiño a los jueces para que sigan sin pagar ganancias a pesar de sus abultados sueldos. Con 134 votos opositores contra los 116 afirmativos del oficialismo, no se sumó el artículo que pretendía hacer pagar el impuesto a los jueces. Mientras que el presupuesto fue aprobado con 180 votos a favor. El argumento de Juntos por el Cambio y sus aliados para votar en contra fue que el kirchnerismo provoca a la Justicia. Otros señalaron que puede llegarse a "condicionar el comportamiento de la justicia" al modificar la ganancia de los jueces. Aunque para la sociedad en su mayoría la justicia no funciona como debería y está muy desprestigiada. De todos modos no parece que cobrarles un impuesto los haría pasar alguna necesidad, señaló el diputado Tailhade. El diputado que también es parte en la Bicameral, tomó nota y compartió DDJJ de jueces y fiscales. Por ejemplo Eduardo Casal, procurador en "interinato eterno", durante 40 años de profesión declaró U$S 136.000. El dato llamativo es que en tres años de procurador interino (durante el macrismo) pasó de U$S 136.000 a declarar U$S 439.000. De la misma manera, hay varios jueces que repiten un patrón similar al revisar sus declaraciones juradas.

El descargo completo del diputado Tailhade:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8i3kik45CFs Casi 20 horas de sesión y un gusto amargo en el oficialismo respecto al artículo que esperaba hacer pagar ganancias a jueces. Igualmente el presupuesto de Massa fue aprobado en la Cámara Baja al rededor de las 5:15, pero no tuvo la misma suerte el artículo que se discutió y no tuvo mayoría sino hasta las 7:00 de esta mañana. Desde la bancada opositora Tonelli defendió a los jueces y explicó que no se puede aplicar porque dicho artículo va ir en contra del 110 de la Constitución donde se impide reducir remuneraciones a jueces. Se sumaron un par de diputados a tratar de revertir la tendencia, pero no se llegó a un acuerdo y los jueces no pagarán ganancias. Read the full article

[nofatclips]

The Weaver & The Cowherd, a TedEd lesson by Shannon Zhao, directed by brume.

[forbidden-sorcery]

Fair-eyed Goddess, send us now thy dawn, Bathed in vermillion, Salaminian light! Strike our hearts so tattered and forlorn, Anarchy! O torch-bearer of morn! Crush the vermin, banish now the night Raise high to heaven, upon our tombs be borne Above the raging tides that tower bright!

from Laurent Tailhade’s Ballad of Solness

[lapostaldemardelplata]

Ulises Cuenca tildó de "ignorante" al diputado Rodolfo Tailhade tras este acusarlo de "nazi"

El periodista y director de La Postal de Mar del Plata, Ulises Catriel Cuenca, cruzó al diputado nacional del Frente de Todos (FdT), Rodolfo Tailhade, por acusarlo de nacionalsocialista alemán: “Te respondo salame porque me pusiste en un vídeo. Te gusta andar diciéndole nazis a todos con una remera de los genocidas comunistas. ¿Te gusta reivindicar los gulags?” Sucedió que hace unos días el…

[diarioelcentinela]

Diputados designó los cuatros miembros del Consejo de la Magistratura

Diputados designó los cuatros miembros del Consejo de la Magistratura

La decisión de Diputados fue comunicada a los organismos correspondientes / Foto: Archivo. La Cámara de Diputados designó como miembros del Consejo de la Magistratura a los legisladores del Frente de Todos Vanesa Siley y Rodolfo Tailhade, del PRO Álvaro González, y del radicalismo Roxana Reyes, quienes serán los cuatros representantes del cuerpo legislativo ante ese organismo. La conformación del…

[soul-and-blues]

Amours! amours! et sur leurs fronts que tu courbas,

Fais ruisseler la pourpre extatique des roses.

Laurent Tailhade

[ttimekeepsrollingby]

Merca alterada y curros macristas

El dealer de la droga que mató a Liam Payne resultó ser un testaferro al que Macri, Aranguren e Iguacel transfirieron negocios de energía milmillonarios en dólares, Rogelio, alias “Roger”, Nores. Imagen: Instagram.

[ninaemsaopaulo]

HYBRIDS: em quase sete minutos, Hybrids deixa uma mensagem bem clara e poluída - prejudicamos o suficiente a fauna subaquática e ela se adaptou da pior forma possível, a ponto de parecer bastante com os humanos, seus algozes. É uma crítica social foda? Sim. Ficaria melhor em formato longa-metragem. Se mais lúdico e menos assustador, até seria um filme da Pixar. Nota 3 para o Procurando Nemo de Chernobyl.

Hybrids faz parte do My French Film Festival: um festival de cinema francês online & gratuito que acontece todos os anos, entre janeiro e fevereiro. Esse ano são 28 filmes, entre longas e curtas, divididos em 6 categorias, disputando o seu voto. Assista Hybrids aqui.

[detournementsmineurs]

"Hybrids" court-métrage d'animation de Kim Tailhades, Yohan Thireau, Florian Brauch, Matthieu Pujol et Romain Thirion (2017), déembre 2020.

[human-antithesis]

Mass Grave Aesthetics

“What matter the victims, provided the gesture is beautiful? What matters the death of vague human beings, If thereby the individual affirms himself?�� Laurent Tailhade The black Idol emerges as a silver lining in a dust cloud of death, Eerie parallel tongues and the piping of heaven The culture of transgression is mine and my descent Makes me ascend in a repugnant swirl? Sic volo, Sic jubeo, Stat pro ratione voluntas The black Idol fills the veil of flesh with noxious smoke, Depicting primal human experiences indifferently, Contemptuous of moral concerns, dehumanized The howling of wolves and the destructive sword are portions of Eternity, Too great for the eyes of merely a man? Transcendence of thresholds occurs with violence And will for Vice is like the mind’s dark radiance Which blinds and of which I’m dying Corruption is the spiritual cancer reigning in the depths of things And it fills until the last cell of my vivid being Dissolution and putrefaction, prevailing Aesthetic experience, The splendor of the obscene and inhuman; For what matters the death of a vague human beings If thereby the individual affirms himself? Violence exists I the moment when the eye turns upwards into the head, When inversion is complete and total The darkness of the upturned eye is not the absence of light But the process of seeing being taken to its limit That thorough derangement of the senses, Way beyond the deceptive conflict between darkness and light Opens perceptions to the tyranny of the Chekhinah? Si non credideritis, Non inteligetis The dimension of ethereal totalitarianism discloses itself And takes possession of the quintessential human soul Like a nail hammered through most tender flesh Aeons separate the one whose eyes have seen through the night of the spirit The king, the Lord of hosts, draped in terrifying magnificence From the gleaming clot of trembling vermin If a faith and a belief aren’t nurtured by the moist of blood They do not grow, nor do they live It is at the magnitude of daily murders, massacres and mass graves That we do measure the propagation of our faith Hearken and recognize, that hideous carrion Legs in the air, like a whore ?displayed, indifferent to the last A belly slick with lethal sweat and swollen with foul gas? This is you, nourishing The grand Mass Grave Aesthetics!

[grantmkemp]

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen, MC (18th March 1893 - 4th November 1918) was an English poet and soldier. He was one of the leading poets of the First World War. His war poetry on the horrors of trenches and gas warfare was much influenced by his mentor Siegfried Sassoon and stood in contrast to the public perception of war at the time. Among his best-known works (most of which were published posthumously) are "Dulce et Decorum est", "Insensibility", "Anthem for Doomed Youth", "Futility", "Spring Offensive" and "Strange Meeting".

Anthem for Doomed Youth By Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?      — Only the monstrous anger of the guns.      Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;      Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,— The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;      And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?      Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.      The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Owen was born at Plas Wilmot, a house in Weston Lane, near Oswestry in Shropshire. He was the eldest of four children, his parents lived in a comfortable house owned by his grandfather, Edward Shaw.

After Edward's death in January 1897, and the house's sale in March, the family lodged in the back streets of Birkenhead. There Thomas Owen temporarily worked in the town employed by a railway company. Thomas transferred to Shrewsbury in April 1897 where the family lived with Thomas' parents in Canon Street.

Owen discovered his poetic vocation in about 1904 during a holiday spent in Cheshire. He was raised as an Anglican of the evangelical type, and in his youth was a devout believer, in part thanks to his strong relationship with his mother, which lasted throughout his life. His early influences included the Bible and the Romantic poets, particularly John Keats.

Owen's last two years of formal education saw him as a pupil-teacher at the Wyle Cop school in Shrewsbury. In 1911 he passed the matriculation exam for the University of London, but not with the first-class honours needed for a scholarship, which in his family's circumstances was the only way he could have afforded to attend.

In return for free lodging, and some tuition for the entrance exam Owen worked as lay assistant to the Vicar of Dunsden near Reading, iving in the vicarage from September 1911 to February 1913. During this time he attended classes at University College, Reading (now the University of Reading), in botany and later, at the urging of the head of the English Department, took free lessons in Old English. His time spent at Dunsden parish led him to disillusionment with the Church, both in its ceremony and its failure to provide aid for those in need.

From 1913 he worked as a private tutor teaching English and French at the Berlitz School of Languages in Bordeaux, France, and later with a family. There he met the older French poet Laurent Tailhade, with whom he later corresponded in French. When war broke out, Owen did not rush to enlist – and even considered the French army – but eventually returned to England.

On 21 October 1915, he enlisted in the Artists Rifles. Owen was commissioned as a second lieutenant (on probation) in the Manchester Regiment. Initially Owen held his troops in contempt for their loutish behaviour, and in a letter to his mother described his company as "expressionless lumps". However, his imaginative existence was to be changed dramatically by a number of traumatic experiences. He fell into a shell hole and suffered concussion; he was caught in the blast of a trench mortar shell and spent several days unconscious on an embankment lying amongst the remains of one of his fellow officers. Soon afterward, Owen was diagnosed as suffering from neurasthenia or shell shock and sent to Craiglockhart War Hospital in Edinburgh for treatment. It was while recuperating at Craiglockhart that he met fellow poet Siegfried Sassoon, an encounter that was to transform Owen's life.

Owen was killed in action on 4 November 1918 during the crossing of the Sambre–Oise Canal, exactly one week (almost to the hour) before the signing of the Armistice which ended the war, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant the day after his death. His mother received the telegram informing her of his death on Armistice Day, as the church bells in Shrewsbury were ringing out in celebration. Owen is buried at Ors Communal Cemetery, Ors, in northern France.

This is my colourised version of a black, and white photograph taken by John Gunston in 1916

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