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aidanchaser · 6 years ago

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Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents

Chapter Eight The Potions Master

The next morning at the Great Hall, the students were treated to a breakfast that was not as elaborate as the feast the night before, but was just as bountiful. Harry helped himself to toast and eggs while Ron reached for a sausage and the owls swooped into the hall.

It was a fascinating sight. Hundreds of owls swirled over the students’ heads in the enchanted sky, dropping letters and parcels to their intended recipients. Hedwig stood out among them, snowy white, and swooped down with a small letter for Harry. She picked at his eggs while he read it.

“Dear Harry,

We’re hope you’re settling in all right. Don’t feel rushed to write back, since we’re sure you’ll be busy with your school work, but your father and I would love to hear how your Sorting went. Wherever you end up, we know you’ll do well.

We miss you terribly at home, of course. It’s not the same cooking for two as it is for three, and the house is so quiet. Your father can’t make enough noise for the both of you.

Write to us when you have time.

With love, Mum and Dad”

Harry scribbled, “Gryffindor,” on the back of the letter and tied it to Hedwig. She snatched the corner of his toast before taking off, and Harry and Ron rushed off to Herbology.

Professor Sprout was a sweet lady, but didn’t tolerate any messing around. She lectured them for over an hour on proper safety in the greenhouse, from dragonhide gloves to enchanted goggles before finally having them take out a parchment for notes. There was no practical work.

After Herbology was History of Magic — the most boring class Harry could imagine. The ghost professor droned on and on and it took all he had to stay awake long enough to take any notes. At least if he and the rest of the boys in his dormitory pooled their notes, they nearly had the whole lecture.

On Tuesday, Harry received another letter from his parents.

CONGRATULATIONS! was written at the top, clearly his father’s penmanship.

We’re so proud, Lily’s handwriting continued, and we know you’ll do well. Gryffindor is a wonderful house. Hope you’re adjusting well to your classes and learning a lot!

Write to us when you can.

With love, Mum and Dad

P.S. Check under your bed for my name. We left our mark before we graduated. You could be in my bed!

Harry gave some of his toast to Hedwig and she hung around him and Ron for the rest of breakfast, before flying back up to the owlery while they went to Charms.

The second day of getting to class wasn’t any better than the first. People were constantly whispering wherever he and Ron went, trying to get a glimpse of him. Harry wished they would let him be. He didn’t know what he’d done any better than they did. From what his parents had said, it was a fluke of some sort. He was having enough trouble just getting to his new classes, and the changing staircases weren’t help.

Charms, however, wasn’t too hard to find. Professor Flitwick — short stature, and easily excitable — toppled over when he saw Harry Potter on the register. Harry rather wished he wouldn’t.

Transfiguration was exactly the opposite. Professor McGonagall looked as stern as she had that first day she led them into the Great Hall. She did not give Harry a smile, or pause before calling his name when taking attendance. She proceeded with class like it was any other group of first year students. And though he was relieved McGonagall didn’t treat him differently, Transfiguration was unfortunately difficult. He had trouble grasping the complicated theories, and when she had them turning matchsticks into needles, Harry couldn’t seem to make it do much of anything. He had no idea why this was his father’s favorite class. At least the rest of the class didn’t do too well either. It was only Hermione who managed to give her matchstick a silver sheen.

On Wednesday morning, Hedwig brought him another letter.

“Blimey, Harry, does your Mum ever lay off?” Ron had gotten just one letter from his mother, congratulating him on making Gryffindor and encouraging him to do well in his classes.

“This isn’t from my Mum,” Harry said with a grin, immediately recognizing Sirius’s large and excessively curled handwriting on the parchment envelope.

Harry!

James told me you made Gryffindor! Congratulations. I knew you had it in you. Did you look under your bed yet? James, Remus, and I all left our names under the beds. You could be in mine.

Write soon. I want to hear how your year is going!

Love, Sirius P.S. Have you met Professor Snape yet? Tell him I said hello.

“Snape’s Potions, right?” Harry asked Ron as they got up for another day of classes.

“Yep. When’s that again?”

“Friday. With the Slytherins,” Harry sighed.

But for now, they had Herbology, History of Magic, and then Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry had been excited for Defense against the Dark Arts. He knew it was a class his parents excelled in. But his excitement was dashed when he met Professor Quirrell, a very nervous man. He stuttered a lot and told them all disjointed stories. They hardly had any practical lessons. Most of it was lecture, and even when someone asked an interesting question — like what happened to the zombie in Africa or was there really a vampire in Romania — he would only stutter a vague answer and change the subject.

On Thursday morning, after a midnight Astronomy class, Harry was greeted with two letters. They were brief, and both generally communicated the same thing.

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on getting into Gryffindor. We’re all so proud of you.

I’m sure your father already told you, but the four of us left our names under our beds. The beds have probably been replaced since then, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

I know Sirius told you to mention him to Professor Snape. Do not do that. Please. It would not do well to start off the year with any of your professors badly.

With love, Uncle Remus

And the second was like it,

Dear Harry,

Please do not mention Sirius to Professor Snape. They have a bad history, and while Sirius may think it was funny, you would not have seen the humor — and neither would Severus.

Hope your classes are going well and you’re settling in just fine. I know they’re feeding you properly, but your father and I still worry. We hope to hear from you soon, but your classes come first.

With love, Mum and Dad

“Professor Snape’s first name is Severus?” Ron asked when Harry told him why he’d gotten two letters that day.

Harry shrugged. “Professor McGongall’s is Minerva. Maybe all teachers have to have fancy names.”

“You’re the one with uncles named Remus and Sirius,” Ron laughed.

Harry grabbed his bag and grinned, “And you have Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon.”

They were laughing at each other, exchanging weird names from their families — Bilius, Linfred, Iolanthe — as they headed to Transfiguration and subsequently took a wrong turn. The door they expected to be open was locked, and suddenly Mrs. Norris and Filch were berating them for trying to go down the forbidden corridor. Harry and Ron tried to say they were only lost, but Filch wouldn’t hear of it. It was only Professor Quirrell, passing by on his way to his lesson that saved them and set them on the right staircase (facing the right direction) to Professor McGonagall’s classroom.

Afterward was Herbology again. Three times a week. At least, this time, Professor Sprout let them get their hands dirty by showing them how to properly plant a Snare Devil.

After lunch, they had another History of Magic lecture that Harry could not stay awake through, a Charms lesson where they were actually allowed to use their wands, and finally their day was done.

Harry very nearly wrote a letter to his mother and father that night, but was too exhausted by the time he and Ron got back to the dormitory. They hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, after their midnight Astronomy class, so nearly all the first years were asleep as soon as they got back from dinner. Only the most determined managed to scribble out a few lines of their first Transfiguration assignment.

The next morning at breakfast, Harry didn’t receive a letter from Lily or James or Sirius or Remus. He knew that he would have to respond to them after Potions.

Harry did, however, receive a letter with unfamiliar handwriting. It was very soiled parchment, smeared in dirt, and the ink ran, like the quill had been dipped too heavily into the inkwell

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send an answer back with Hedwig.

—Hagrid

His family could wait a little longer for a letter. Harry was curious about this giant-of-a-man and how it all tied into the story behind his scar. If Hagrid was as close to his family as Sirius, close enough to be there the night he got his scar, why had he never met Hagrid? He hardly remembered his parents mentioning him.

Harry quickly wrote, Sounds fantastic. See you later, on the back of the note and sent it off with Hedwig.

Thank goodness he had something to look forward to after Potions besides responding to letters and doing more homework, because Potions turned out to be the worst class in the history of the wizarding world.

Harry didn’t understand why Snape disliked him, but it was definitely there, and it wasn’t just dislike. It seemed more like an unfathomably deep loathing.

To start, class was in the dungeons. Anyone who preferred to hold their class in the dungeons was either really exciting and interesting or really dark and creepy. Snape was decidedly the latter. The glass jars filled with animal parts soaking in fluorescent green liquid did nothing to abate the creepy atmosphere. Neither did Snape’s dry, drawling voice as he went through the register. And Snape, like so many professors before, paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity.”

A handful of the Slytherins in the class chuckled and Harry whipped around, but Malfoy looked innocent — smug, but innocent.

Snape finished roll call without any other comment, and began his class right away without introducing himself.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making.” At the least, he knew how to hold an audience with a dramatic voice. “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the sense…. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Harry was at first enthralled by but then quickly put off by this over-dramatic display. He realized he already had a preference for McGonagall’s straightforward approach of, “This class is interesting but difficult so pay attention.” He also definitely didn’t appreciate the dig at the class’s intelligence — they were all of them only first years. Maybe Harry’s disapproval showed on his face, because Snape singled him out.

“Potter!” said Snape suddenly. “What would I get if I added leaves of a pheasant’s eye to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry didn’t know there were leaves in pheasant’s eyes. Or was pheasant’s eye a type of plant? And wormwood — wasn’t that for stomach aches? He glanced at Ron for help, who shrugged, but Hermione’s hand shot in the air.

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry said.

Snape’s sneered.

“Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again, Potter. What would happen if I properly added marigold petals to a sleeping potion?”

Hermione seemed to know the answer to that too, but Harry couldn’t say he remembered coming across that potion in his textbooks. He could hear Malfoy and his cronies laughing behind him. He tried to ignore them, but he felt the tips of his ears turn pink.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh Potter?”

Harry stared straight back at Snape and held in every sarcastic retort that pressed on the tip of his tongue. It was one thing to sass back his mother and father or Sirius when they were making him mad. There was usually another adult to intervene. But this — this was a teacher, at school, and Remus had encouraged him to get along with his teachers. But was it really his fault Snape was being so impossible?

“What’s the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Harry knew wolfsbane was also called aconite, but he’d never heard of monkshood before.

Hermione, however, looked like she might rocket out of her seat at any minute.

“I don’t know,” Harry said and couldn’t help it — “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?” He heard Ron and Dean Thomas chuckle on either side of him. He caught Seamus’s eye and Seamus winked. Snape was not amused.

“Sit down,” he snapped at Hermione. “For your information, Potter, pheasant’s eye and wormwood are the main ingredients in a potion for relaxing anxiety. Marigold in a sleeping potion can have the side effect of prophetic visions while sleeping. And for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

Everyone scrambled for quills and parchment, and Harry quickly wrote down what Snape had said.

“And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter.”

Harry was glad he hadn’t said any of the other things he’d been dying to spit back at Snape, and instead just scribbled, “Snape is gross and greasy,” in the margins of the notes and scribbled a rather grotesque caricature of Snape with an over-exaggerated hook-nose for the course of the lecture.

After the lecture was the practical lesson, and they were all paired off to construct a simple potion to cure boils.

Harry worked with Ron, and they used Ron’s notes while Harry tucked his back in his bag, since Snape was walking around examining their work. Unfortunately, Ron’s notes weren’t quite as useful as Harry’s would have been. On occasion, when Snape wasn’t looking, Harry sneaked a glance at Hermione’s notes, to make sure they were properly weighing ingredients. Her notes were impeccable.

Snape was busy praising Malfoy’s potion, telling everyone it was stewed to perfection, when a green smoke and loud hissing came from the Gryffindor side of the room.

All the Gryffindors leapt onto their stools as a thick green sludge melted through Seamus’s cauldron and started eating holes into student’s shoes. The only student who wasn’t standing on his stool, who had the unfortunate mishap of spilling the failed potion all over himself, was Neville. He began to whimper in pain as boils sprung up all over his skin.

“Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, and the potion was gone with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville only moaned back.

“Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. Then he turned on Harry.

“You — Potter — why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Ron kicked him.

“Don’t push it,” he hissed. “I’ve heard Snape can turn very nasty.”

An hour later, when they left the dungeon, Harry felt like he was going to spill over with anger and guilt. Anger at Snape, but also guilty that he’d lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week.

He couldn’t understand why Snape hated him so much. But then again, Snape seemed to like Malfoy, so anyone with that bad taste probably didn’t need logical explanations.

“Cheer up,” Ron said. “Snape’s always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?”

After lunch, they left the castle and crossed the grounds to Hagrid’s hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. When Harry knocked on the door of the hut, there were loud barks and a scrabbling noise.

They heard Hagrid shouting, “Back Fang!” before the door opened.

He opened it only just enough for the two boys to slip inside while he held his large mastiff at bay.

The hut was only one room. Food hung over the fire alongside a boiling kettle. The centre of the room was consumed by a large table with a few chairs, and against the wall was an enormous bed. There wasn’t much else in the small hut, and there wasn’t room for much else besides.

“Make yourselves at home,” Hagrid said, and let go of Fang. The dog was large with slobbering jowls, but when it jumped at Ron, it only licked him. For all his size, he wasn’t vicious in the least. Harry may have grown up with a cat, but he was certainly no stranger to very large dogs.

“This is Ron,” Harry introduced them, as he sat down onto a very large chair.

“Another Weasley, eh? I’ve spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest. How many more of yeh are there?”

“Just one,” Ron said as he glumly tried to wipe Fang’s slobber off with his robes.

Tea with Hagrid was the most unpleasant meal Harry had in a long time, but the most pleasant conversation he could have asked for. The rock cakes were impossible to eat, and the tea was stronger than any Harry had tasted, but Hagrid listened to their woes about the week with the appropriate amount of sympathy. He even called Flich, “that old git.”

“An’ as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her — Filch puts her up to it.”

The only thing Hagrid couldn’t seem to sympathize with them on was Snape. When Harry insisted Snape hated him and had it out for him, Hagrid only said, “Snape hardly likes any of the students.”

“But he seemed to really hate me.”

“Rubbish! Why should he?”

Harry frowned and folded his arms over his chest. Hagrid was hiding something. Everyone was hiding something from him and he was rather tired of it.

In a completely subtle change of topic, Hagrid asked Ron, “How’s yer brother Charlie? I liked ‘im a lot — great with animals.”

While Ron talked to Hagrid about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry glanced around the small hut.

There wasn’t a whole lot to take in. He picked up a scrap of paper from under the tea cozy and realized it was actually a newspaper clipping.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST read the headline.

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. ‘But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,’ said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

Harry knew about the break-in, but why did Hagrid have a clipping of it? Judging by the size of this hut, Hagrid didn’t have an account in Gringotts. Or if he did, no one was breaking into it to steal anything. He did remember Hagrid saying something about Hogwarts business in Diagon Alley on his birthday. And he’d had that package and key with him….

“Hagrid? You didn’t break into Gringotts on my birthday did you?”

“What? No, of course not Harry. What makes yeh say that?”

“You were there the day it happened. Was it that little package that wasn’t my birthday present? And you had a key — was it for a vault in Gringotts? What was it you took out? Was that what someone wanted to steal?”

Hagrid did not answer any of those questions and offered him another rock cake. Harry thought that was almost answer enough.

The boys walked back to the castle as the sun started to set, and Harry could not help but turn over the conversation every way he could. What was the package? How did it link to Hogwarts? Why did someone want to steal it? And, most importantly, what weren’t people telling him about Snape?

#harry potter and the philosophers stone #hp fic #severus snape #harry potter everyone lives au #hp everyone lives

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kansascityhappenings · 6 years ago

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Joe’s Weather Blog: We’re going to need a bigger shovel-maybe (WED-2/13)

Happy Wednesday! The good news is that we’ve got a breezy and milder day heading this way with highs into the 50s. Get out…enjoy it…do whatever…but get out of the house because regardless of how much snow we get from these systems that are coming through over the next week…it’s going to get cold. Thursday will be the transition day…and we’re into the cold on Friday with alternating snow chances and sticking snow likely. As I mentioned yesterday we won’t get blasted by the full-on effects of each potential storm but at least one get us…and the one that I’m most concerned about at this point is the one for Friday afternoon>evening.

Forecast:

Today: Lots of high clouds around…turning windy in the afternoon with highs 50-55° or so. Winds possibly gusting to near 30 MPH

Tonight: Milder with fair skies and lows well into the 30s

Thursday: A cold front will move through with variable clouds. The timing of the front appears to be near or after lunch. Highs may reach about 50° (colder north>warmer south) before dropping into the 20s in the evening with teens as wind chills.

Friday: Snow developing with accumulations likely. Highs 20-25°

Discussion:

First of all…as usual thanks for reading the weather blog. Yesterday it was the #1 item on our web page which is always humbling. It still amazes me the comments on FB I get about this “outlet” for me. So many mention that they learn about the weather and like the whys and whatfors about these storms…set-ups…whatever. A darn weather blog. Still amazes me.

Onwards.

Won’t bother with today or tomorrow as that is pretty straight-forward. The issue for Thursday is when the cold air is injected into KC from the north. My thought is sometime around or after lunch with the 50° weather turning into 30° weather by the time evening rush is done with…and colder with the wind chills. There could be a few sprinkles with this but not much is expected rain-wise.

OK now the elephant in the room. I think by now everybody knows about the snow potential over the next week. 3 storms through next Wednesday. As I mentioned yesterday I’m not in the mindset that ALL three give us crazy amounts of snow. Last night there was a rather significant change, in at least one model, for the weekend system and the one next TUE>WED.

So to try and simplify things…let’s refer to Friday’s system as storm #1…Saturday night’s system as storm #2 and then the TUE>WED AM system as storm #3. I still worry that we may be vulnerable to other “things” beyond that but IF I start talking about that possibility I’ll need security guards in the grocery store (kidding not kidding)

So my confidence level about the 3 storms is “somewhat” strongest for what’s ahead of us…storm #1. Storm #2 and #2 I have less confidence about…especially #3 at this point because…well it’s about a week away. Storm #2 is somewhat problematic as well…I think we’ll get something from that…but I’m not sure if we get the “big one” from that.

Then there is storm #1 (the one due in Friday).

I want to show you some of the data from the newest weather satellite that became “operational” just yesterday. It’s the GOES 17 satellite that is more focused on the western part of the country and the central and eastern Pacific Ocean.

Pretty shots…but there are issues with the satellite. There are some problems with the equipment up there and in particular with a cooling fan. Remember this satellite is way up there…some 22,000 miles up…the Space Station is 254 miles up…so it’s not as if we can send maintenance up there. They’ve come up with some workarounds, which is still amazing to me for something that is orbiting the Earth and so far away…but for several hours each day during certain times of the year when the sun heats up the satellite too much…pictures won’t be usable. Regardless there is still a LOT of good data coming down the pipeline towards us.

So with that said…Storm #1 is still off the western US…off the coast of CA.

It’s that mass of clouds on the far right hand side…hopefully when daylight comes the US borders will become more evident.

That storm right now at least is in a few pieces (yellow flag in my mind) and when it comes ashore in CA tomorrow afternoon and crosses into the Rockies Friday morning…we’ll see what kind of shape it’s in.

That yellow flag is one of the problems I have with this set-up right now. The storm is going to be a fast mover it appears when it gets into the Plains and I’m still not sure how well put together it’s going to be when it flies through KS on Friday afternoon. Let’s go up to about 18,000 feet and show you the 3 storms. The one is KS is storm #1. The map shows areas of “vorticity”. These areas are where the atmosphere shows cyclonic tendencies and ahead of these features you get “lift” (good for precipitation) and behind the features you get sinking air (good for clearing). These areas have varying intensity…big storms generate lots of lift…weaker ones…less lift.

Here is wayyyy more information than you want to know about the above map.

So the rough idea of a “transition zone” between rising air…lift…and sinking air…is the axis location of the “U” dips in the above map. With me so far? Notice as well the size of the “U” dip. For storm #1 it’s not overly “dippy” compared to storm #2…do you see that.

Less “dippy” storms tend to move fast. So the time that we’re in the “favorable” zone of lift is shorter than when the dips are deeper in size. Still with me?

Now that is up there at around 18,000 feet. We have to look at the entire atmosphere though as well. That smaller dip will be bringing some decent moisture with it and tapping into some sub-tropical moisture coming up from western TX…and that moisture will be one of the keys for us to get significant snow. IF that moisture isn’t as impressive or it gets pushed a bit farther east or south of here…we may NOT have a big snowstorm in KC on Friday. Nuisance snows yes…I think that’s unavoidable at this point (nuisance meaning 1-4″ or so) …it could be a sign that the wave is moving too fast or isn’t strong enough and this has to be at least looked at right now and NOT discounted at this point.

Then there is the matter of a building southwards area of high pressure…this is the cold air maker for us…BUT it’s also a dry air maker too. So the feed in the lower part of the atmosphere is of drier air…and that too can chew on what falls for awhile. Too much dry air and decent snowmakers can turn into blah snow makers. I may be making too much of a deal on this BUT it’s in the back of my mind as well.

Right now I think the odds of all this happening and ALL of this just turning into a “nuisance event” is around 55% and 55% should NOT be discounted at this point.

If you want something more significant (meaning in my weather head…4″ or more) you would like to see that moisture source be 1) real and 2) have that wave a bit more focused and “sharper”. That helps maximize the lift a bit more…that lift then works in concert with the moisture coming northbound…and as a result you get more impressive swaths of snow moving through the area.

There are some so-so favorable jet stream dynamics at play with this as well…for conciseness I won’t get into that right now. Not the greatest set-up and I’ve seen better over the years.

The new data slows the onset of sticking snow to the afternoon Friday. That makes sense and I can see how the dry air flow from the north is sort of working against the snow as it tries to come eastbound. However I also see how the snow out west is coming together better later in the morning and that snow would then come along the I-70 corridor in the afternoon…the issue remains how well it holds together as it comes eastbound along I-70.

You can see the conundrum. Dry air…sort of a disjointed broken up wave moving through the Plains…lift in the atmosphere that isn’t exactly super focused and a snow window that may be only around 6-8 hours or so…and some of that may be chewed on by the dry air.

This is the reason why we want to hold off on how much snow will fall from this. I know many are seeing all sorts of numbers on their various apps and with other sources…last night I mentioned that there was potential of over 4″ on Friday. That is still there certainly BUT I’m not sure how much over 4″ we will get at this point and that’s why I don’t want to do any snow maps yet with more precise information.

Trust me I know you want all the answers but for those who DON”T want a ton of snow…consider the early data today a better trend for your side. I don’t want to throw a 4-8″ amount out there at this point because my confidence isn’t there for something like that right now. The dry air scenario chewing at the snow because the wave coming in is sort of a mess needs to be factored into the equation. IF that dry air is “less” dry and IF the wave is better put together then yes over 4″ is VERY doable…again though lets try as we can to keep the horses in the barn for a bit longer.

There is still all sorts of potential with these 3 storms…and I won’t be surprised by some significant snow on the ground in a weeks time but let’s try and deal with them one at a time.

Takeaways from this…

Snow arrives after lunch Friday and sticks right away

The evening rush hour may be a mess

A LOT of schools are NOT in session anyway because of in-service conference days ahead of the 3 day weekend anyway

The dry air seeping southwards may “chew” on the snow as it comes eastbound

The wave needs to be better organized with more focus to tap into the moisture trying to come northwards and also to act as a better “tug” on that moisture

The weekend system bears some watching as well as does the one next week. Still WAYYYY to early to worry about forecast accumulations with that one.

OK that’s it for now. I’ll get an afternoon update out on FB by 3PM or so.

Our feature photo comes from ‎Sharon Griff Holloway‎ outside of Trenton, MO

Michelle and Karli will have more information as the day moves long on FOX 4.

Joe

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/02/13/joes-weather-blog-were-going-to-need-a-bigger-shovel-maybe-wed-2-13/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/02/13/joes-weather-blog-were-going-to-need-a-bigger-shovel-maybe-wed-2-13/

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tinymixtapes · 7 years ago

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Feature: SONICA 2018

Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, is a strange place. --- Monday: Cankarjev Dom Empty halls always give off that unintentionally eerie feeling that nobody should belong there. That their purpose is outside the purview of the humans that built them. The more cavernous they are, the more you get this feeling. Cankarjev Dom, or Cankar Centre/Hall, is an example of this. It is fascinating that this, the largest exhibition hall in Slovenia, would be the opening venue of SONICA Festival. The festival didn’t even use the main spaces of the hall, but rather a smaller stage — Kosovelova dvorana, or Kosovel Hall — located in the lower basement of the building. It only amplified that smallness. Friday: ROG Factory After concluding the night’s activities at Cankarjev Dom, I went to an abandoned factory just a little east along the Ljubljanica River for a club night. Upon entry, it felt like I entered a Berlin joint, complete with a blasted-out concrete space for where people could stand, a makeshift bar, and lots of smoking. Alleged Witches, a local house DJ, opened with a two-and-a-half hour set that was of acceptable techno with sparks of ambient. Actress followed with techno, too, though with sprinkles of his established sound. After watching for a legally-mandated 15 minutes, I left, returned here, and wrote these words. Lee Gamble is playing in a bit, but that’s at 3 AM. That’s something I would’ve done 5 years ago, maybe even 3 years ago, but that ain’t me now. Wednesday: +MSUM Tomoko Sauvage (Photo: Lana Špiler) Entering the Museum of Contemporary Art, also known as +MSUM, was a bit disjointed, if only because the doors look like wing tips. Still, walking in, I noticed the crowd gathering around this one gallery space. It’s always good to have that. Just that bit of overfill to show that people are genuinely interested in what you have to offer. Tomoko Sauvage was the key act of the night. The Japanese artist primarily performed using a piezo-based mic setup, two bowls filled with water, among other stuff. I’ve always had a certain fondness for piezo-based surface recordings, especially because we can’t often hear these vibrations, even if we can feel them. Sauvage resorted to sound manipulation that worked effectively for the materials she was using, creating a unique environment from within the space that makes it more appealing to the listener. You sort of drift into and out of the space without ever moving. That takes a certain level of sophistry in your craft, and I look forward to more of Sauvage’s work. --- Even the name is strange. Lyub-li-ahn-a. Those j’s are weird. Majbe thej form a conspiracj (yes, you pronounce it like y). I guess that’s why the locals just use the pronunciation “Loub-li-ahn-a.” Alas. It is by no means exotic. Many elements of the city I felt a compelling connection to past American and European cities I’ve managed to stumble my way into the last 10 years: Köln, Berlin, Santa Fe, Detroit… Chicago. Its smallness stirs memories of Providence, an emblem of my childhood I have not set foot in for longer. --- Saturday: Klub CD Sometimes, an earnest moment changes everything. I don’t know where I was, or, rather, where my head was, while at Klub CD, the rooftop restaurant and hall of Cankarjev Dom. Performing in front of me was William Basinski. He’s an odd sort: Despite being this avant-garde figure, he had the look, disposition, and dress of a rock star. He joked about wanting to catch the prior night’s club activity. But perhaps that was the point: His piece, A Shadow in Time, was designed as, in his words, “a funeral mass” and “calling home” to David Bowie, the epitome of cool. Perhaps fitting given it was he who refused the rites of burial and all that remains of him scattered in particles to the winds around Bali. Thursday: Kino Šiška Lifecutter (Photo: Lana Špiler) The oldest cinema in Ljubljana, the space has been converted into a concert hall on the lower levels. The structure reminds me of multiple cavernous concert halls I’ve descended into throughout my life, though it feels more in shape like an actual music venue than the various rectangular configurations of previous experience. The act first noted on the bill is a Slovene artist by the name of Lifecutter, who immediately gave off an imposing, spooky vibe appropriate for fall with his dithering samples and incongruent rhythms. That set the mood for the first 15 minutes of the set, building up a dark tension in the room. Had he cut off his set at 20, 25 minutes, it would’ve been a solid performance. But it lasted 45 minutes. The latter half of the set was filled with familiar techno and house patterns, grooves that ultimately did little to inspire the imagination. It roused the crowd into dancing, certainly, but I kept wanting him to go back to what he was doing at the beginning of his set. He did ultimately return there in the closing minutes, but by then, the impact was measurable. Monday: Cankarjev Dom The opening act of SONICA 2018 was Tristan Perich, of renowned One-Bit Symphony fame. Utilizing a single synth, he did a buildup of multiple looping patterns that in theory should allow the listener to drift in and out. But it felt similar after a while, as if he were running through the motions of what a synth set should sound like. There was hope that it would build up to something, but it didn’t go where I would’ve expected. Thursday: Moderna Gallerija Below are notes taken verbatim from an occurrence on Thursday at Moderna Gallerija, the Museum of Modern Art, near Tivoli Park. No context given. Use your imagination. * #3: Hunch! * #2: Hey, someone I can relate to * #4: Speaks better than #1 * #5: Has a pulse to the ground * #1: Unsure about what they’re saying * #6: Ljubljana needs less techno * #8: Jazz is bad jazz is bad * #7: A key to… all over the place? * #9: Those are certainly four words Friday: Cankarjev Dom The headline act was a new piece called Sacred Horror in Design by Iranian musician Sote with German visual artist Tarik Barri and a couple of Iranian partners. The structure of this long, winding set piece at first harkens to the emotional minimalism of Jerusalem in My Heart. But it’s not that simple, really. There is a pain, a sadness that circulates and shifts throughout the piece, whether in the background imagery or when the traditional Iranian instrumentation is distorted through various effects. It’s something that you can feel there. Even the moments where fear is meant to be invoked, it comes through as anguish. The tapestry brought about by Barri’s visuals served as an assertive complement to Sote’s composition. Whether through simple tears or bleeds that cut through the imagery or invocations of Persian-Islamic culture, the melancholy that is powering this piece shows. Saturday: Mestni park Tivoli Marco Barotti’s Swans (Photo: Lana Špiler) While wandering through Tivoli Park looking for ducks, I accidentally stumbled upon Marco Barotti’s sound installation, Swans, overlooking the pond. I stood there for a few moments, trying to make sense of the tiny spectacle, but it felt strangely monotonous. I moved on to find a small number of ducks in the pond and an old man struggling to feed them (only to be thwarted by pigeons). Wednesday: +MSUM Following Sauvage was a DJ set by James Ginzburg. For the most part, the crowd just ignored him and either stood around, ate at the little cantina next to the gallery, or smoked outside. Perhaps it was for the best: the set felt like second-hand James Ferraro or OPN with a side of Deafheaven. --- Instead, its strangeness comes from a calmness about it that accepts its minor absurdities. The prevalence of graffiti everywhere with little more than a shrug. A goofy meme referencing a short film when a new train opens to Italy. An anecdote of a taxi driver nonchalantly taking a tourist around the city as riots were occurring. Photo: Ze Pequeno This isn’t bad, mind you. It grants the opportunity to question things. --- Friday: Pritlicje In which a thing may have happened (among others). Thursday: Kino Šiška Giant Swan (Photo: Lana Špiler) To close the night, Giant Swan took to the stage… and then one of them immediately jumped off it. Taking an aggressive stance with the crowd, a drum & bass set soon followed. The setup they had was definitely one you would find among anyone who came from Brighton or Bristol. The energy they injected into their set certainly merited a comparison to Fuck Buttons, and unlike my previous experience with a live set of the latter, the crowd actually got into it. Much credit to that, a rarity in such settings. I just wish I could feel the same about the music. While I was hoping for the bombastic energy and tension-building that I’ve seen many a good Brighton and Bristol act pull off, what I got was the other type of music I hear from those cites: Meandering repetitions that never quite get out of their groove. I failed to understand their appeal, but at least the crowd was happy about it. Make of that what you will. Saturday: Klub CD The work was eerily reminiscent of the works of both The Caretaker or (especially) Tape Loop Orchestra. The first act, which Basinski claimed was comparable to a New Orleans-style funeral march, brought about a different angle. It wasn’t really a body going home. It was the body, the self going home, turning inward in ways that one couldn’t anticipate. Perhaps that is what looking at things in retrospect does to you. Understanding the purpose, the meaning of things that have come before. Many laid down to understand what was happening to them. Others, like myself, observed both outward and inward what was happening. A forgotten sadness encroaches. Photo: Ze Pequeno Monday: Cankarjev Dom The second act was Yair Elazar Glotman and Mats Erlandsson, who played a selection from last year’s joint effort, Negative Chambers. Joining them were local musicians Katarina Kozjek, Anastazija Krenn, and Žiga Murko. Now this was something. While Perich attempted to demonstrate something resembling intensity, Glotman and Erlandsson, et al. were intensity. The pull into the ethereal immediately brought to mind the works of Motion Sickness From Time Travel and the like, as well as the modest drawing that creates a sensation of envelopment yet isn’t overwhelming. You’re in a strange setting in these situations because of it. And yet… it felt right. It was something that could set the tone for the festival. Friday: Cankarjev Dom Container Doxa (Photo: Lana Špiler) “The situation remains excellent.” Container Doxa would conclude the night at Linhart Hall. Of the Slovene acts that played throughout the festival, they were the most interesting. They opened the piece with an empty stage, while the members stood in the crowd, imitating birdsong. One by one, the group assembled and delivered a performance as fragmented as their arrival. The bouncing of instrumentation played off of each other very effectively, while an arresting visual display stood at their backs, with Tine Grgurevic reading through a mechanical treatise that played off like a sinister lecture. As some would remark, there are limits to futurism. Container Doxa’s piece hinted at these limitations in terms of the piece. It showed how it’s so hard to walk the line between the pristine cosmopolitanism of futurology and dystopia… and how we lean hard toward the latter than the former these days. --- The 10th running of SONICA Festival in Ljubljana, operated by the Museum of Transitory Art, focuses on the matter of “sensitivity,” and whether it is necessary to oblige to it anymore. The context of our times certainly gives us reason to ask this question. Of course, many here would be uncomfortable to even consider it. SONICA graciously invited Tiny Mix Tapes to attend and to become part of their talks. In turn, I, on my own 10th anniversary of writing for TMT, have been sent to cover… and to talk. I will avoid the trappings of nostalgia tripping as much as I can, though I probably already screwed up in making note of prior cities. Oh well. Not the worst thing that can happen in a festival review. --- Tuesday: Ni v Sloveniji/non in Slovenia É engraçado. Falou esloveno mais bem de italiano. Porque é…? Meh. Culpo Portugal. Thursday: Kino Šiška Aïsha Devi (Photo: Lana Špiler) The headliner of the night was Aïsha Devi. It is worth noting her purpose here at this point: She is representative of the potential not of electronic music (that in and of itself is a different matter), but of SHAPE, the European Union’s attempt at creating a centralized platform for artist development throughout its member states (disclosure: TMT is a SHAPE media partner). While many of the acts this week are connected to SHAPE in some capacity, either as active members or alumni, Devi represents one of its bigger success stories, making a significant impact on the electronic music scene. So it makes some sense to have her around, especially with a new album to tout. Her set at Kino Šiška was a dichotomy of sorts. On the one hand, her music remained the same: A miasmic hodgepodge of dissonance with some foundations of brilliance that screamed missed opportunity. On the other hand, her performance actually worked to her favor, with her jumpy mannerisms and distorted movements working up the crowd. Friday: Cankarjev Dom The return to Cankarjev Dom would also come with an upgrade. In lieu of Monday’s visit to Kosovel Hall, SONICA booked Linhartova dvorana/Linhart Hall, a vast concert stage that was almost certainly double in capacity. It felt like a true concert hall in scope, compared to Kosovel’s lecture-like space. To open the night, Canadian artists Jason Sharpe and Adam Basanta took to the stage in an intense barrage of sound. The post-rock narrative worked to their advantage in this situation, built on call and response between Sharpe’s instrumentation and Basanta’s looping. It’s worth noting the prior descriptions of the concert hall fit well here. Acoustics in a venue tend not to matter as much in electricified music, since the sound is already partially shaped and adjustable. However, in acts such as Sharpe’s and Basanta’s, where a greater emphasis is placed on sound design and manipulation, the acoustics start to matter a lot more. Which is to say that Linhart Hall played as much a role in turning the duo’s sound into its own thing as the effects on display. Saturday: Klub CD As the music shifted to act #2, which was intended as a transmission to the spirit of Ziggy Stardust, of Starman, of the Thin White Duke, and of all his other iterations, the mood changed. There was little chatter in the crowd. People were just drifting. And in that moment, everything felt strangely earnest. There was an inexplicable sincerity projected by Basinski’s music, even as he remained decked out in glam rock attire. It made me think about not just what I was doing in Ljubljana, but also what I have been doing generally. Sometimes you get the clarity you look for in unexpected places. As the loops weaved through and about, I felt an urge to question my actions and roles as a Writer of MusicTM and supporter of the Chicago DIY scene, as well as a passive supporter of DIY scenes everywhere else. Have I done enough? Have I put in enough effort to truly help communities move forward? Has my own hesitance at being a social person, and the insufferability that has permeated much of the social internet, created an unnecessary crutch to prevent me from doing more and actually be a helpful person? These are weird questions to ask in the middle of an ambient performance. But perhaps this was the only time I could really think about anything beyond the scope of this report, really. And perhaps it was necessary. The priorities had changed. http://j.mp/2C3YUhs

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