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The Sounding Image: About the relationship between art and music—an art-historical retrospective view by Barbara John

Since the early days of Modernism, the interplay between art and music has given considerable impetus to the development of new art forms. [1] This essay will examine the pre-history of this modern synergy. In comparison with other contributions to Media Art Net, the historical framework here is considerably larger. This is justified by the nature of the subject matter: artificial images and sounds have been created since the dawn of human culture. Therefore it is quite right that many texts refer back to prehistory, or at least the ancient world. But a great deal remains speculative here, and often history is reinterpreted, or even written, from an entirely modern point of view.

The approach in this essay will be different. Theoretical statements by artists that have come down to us will be used to show, from a short review of Western culture, how this relationship, which began in very different conditions, changed over the centuries from an art-historical point of view and led to all the arts working together on an equal footing. The route will lead rapidly from antiquity and the Middles Ages to the transition from classical artistic techniques to the beginnings of media art.

Art and music - an unequal start

In the Christian West music was one of the seven free arts, the so-called artes liberales, whereas fine art was seen merely as a craft activity. [2] Music's high standing was based on the philosophy of Pythagoras, who explained musical theory in terms of mathematical laws that were interpreted cosmologically in the Middle Ages. With arithmetic, geometry and astrology, music made up a quadrumvirate working on a mathematical basis within the artes liberales, and it was allotted a special function as a hinge between microcosm and macrocosm.

But even Plato recognized a special connection between eye and sound. Synaesthesia (Greek: sharedsensitivity) has been an epistemological topic since the days of ancient philosophy. Since the Baroque era in particular is has also been an experimental field for inventors of machines and theoretical speculators, like Pater Castel, for example. But this essay will not deal with individual aspects so much as synaesthesia in its full cultural context.

Medieval sacred art and music

The Western roots of a direct interplay between art and music lie in Christian liturgy. [3] The structure of the church building as the place where mass is celebrated emphasizes the special significance of music through the choir, which is immediately adjacent to the altar. Music is an indispensable part of the celebration of mass, and the artistic decoration of the altar is essential for the ceremonial process. Ostentatious medieval piety required staging that appealed to all the senses, like a religious Gesamtkunstwerk: the act of worship climaxing in the raising of the host is accompanied by singing, incense and the glow of candles - with the altarpiece as a pictorial setting. The variety of artistic contributions ranges from the decoration of the musical instruments via the miniature painting in the hymnbooks to panel painting.

The liturgical order determined the content of the art and music programme. The fixed Christian festivals in the liturgical calendar do not determine the choice of liturgical singing alone, they also affect the iconography of the altarpiece. This applies particularlyto the worship of Mary and saints that was widespread in the Middle Ages. This led to an expansion of the iconography of Mary in panel painting, and in liturgy to an increasing number of hymns venerating the Mother of God, which were sung on the appropriate feast days. One especially striking example of saint-worship is the altar painting by the Cologne master Stephan Lochner for the altar of the Three Kings.

In contrast with the Latin hymns, which ordinary people did not understand, and the theological content of the altarpieces, which had to be explained to laymen, a much more vivid way of conveying religious messages developed with the rise of mysticism. Mystery plays, particularly the Easter Passion Plays, emerged from the 12th century, and proved a fertile field of activity for painters, sculptors and musicians. They stimulated new musical and pictorial compositions. Performances required musical accompaniment, and at the same time new ritual figures were designed, like for example the Passion ass for the Palm Sunday play and the sculpture of Mary to be raised in the nave for the feast of the Assumption. Both music and art helped to stage a popular spectacle with religious content.

Book-, wall- and panel-painting count as important pictorial evidence of the history of popular and instrumental music. But they were not intended simply to illustrate, but also to instruct. David with his harp, Salome's dance and the host of angels playing musical instruments are particularly familiar Biblical themes. [4] In secular images we find the singing troubadour, round dances or the personification of music.

Renaissance - the arts in competition

Social changes started in the late Middle Ages: painters, sculptors and architects began to be classed as artists. In the early days of the Renaissance, the arts started to compete with each other. Until then the fine arts had been subordinate to the artes liberales like music, but this was questioned by universally talented artists like Leon Battista Alberti (1404-1472) and Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519). One key reason was the discovery of central perspective. This led to a close link between art and mathematics, as artistic composition was now subject to mathematical rules.

Alberti and Leonardo studied perspective intensively, and demanded enhanced status for thefine arts in their writings, particularly in relation to music.

Alberti was principally concerned with the arts' competition between each other. He felt that painting should be allotted the highest status. As a humanistic scholar he insisted that painters should not just have artistic talent, but should also be taught all the free arts, above all geometry. In his theoretical treatise on painting «De Pictura» of 1435/36 he writes: «Hence painting enjoys such high esteem that its exponents, given the admiration accorded to their works, are almost inclined to think that they are to the greatest possible degree similar to God. And is it not further the case that painting should be deemed the teacher of all the other arts - or at least their outstanding adornment?" [5] And Alberti goes on to write: «So: this art gives pleasure, if it is cultivated; it ensures esteem, wealth and eternal fame only if it is so cultivated that it reaches a high standing, Given this - as painting turns our to be the best and most honourable adornment of all things, worthy of free men, beloved equally of the learned and the unlearned - I require all the more emphatically of youth that is eager to learn that they may turn their efforts towards painting, to the greatest feasible extent.» [6] Alberti, who rose to considerable fame as an architect in particular, applied musical numerical proportions to architectural construction. Famous examples are his designs for the churches of S. Francesco in Rimini (1453) and S. Andrea in Mantua (1470). [7]

Leonardo raised the argument to a higher plane. He doubted the superiority of the artes liberales as opposed to the fine arts. His exemplary comparison of art and music led to a demand that art should enjoy equal status. As a universal scholar, he was knowledgeable in all fields. It is said that Leonardo even designed musical instruments, for example a silver lyre in the shape of a horse's head for Prince Lodovico Sforza in Milan. He is also said to have been an outstanding musician. For his famous portrait of the Mona Lisa he arranged for music and singing during the sittings, to encourage the subject to look cheerful. [8] In his now famous treatise «Il Paragone», Leonardo wrote in detail about the relationship between painting and music: «If you say that the non-mechanical sciences are the intellectual ones, that I say thatpainting is intellectual and that it, just as music and geometry consider the relationship between the continuous quantities, and arithmetic the relationship between the discontinuous quantities, painting considers all continuous qualities of the relationship between light and shade and with perspective, those of distances.» [9] And further: «Music can be called nothing other than the sister of painting, as it is subject to hearing, as sense that comes after sight, and creates harmony by combining its well-proportioned and simultaneously appearing parts, though they are compelled to emerge and to fade away in a single or several tempos. These tempos enfold the wellfitting quality of the elements from which the harmony is composed, no differently from the way that the lines describe the elements of which the human beauty is composed. Painting towers over and dominates music, because it does not fade away immediately after it is created like unfortunate music, but, on the contrary, remains alive, and so something that in reality is nothing but a surface shows itself to be a living thing. Oh wondrous science, you keep the fragile beauty of mortal man alive, and it thus becomes more lasting than the works of nature, as these are subject to the remorseless changes of time, and of necessity become old. This science (painting) relates to the divine being as its works relate to the works of this being, and for his reason it is worshipped.» [10]

The particular significance of mathematics as a common basis for music and fine art was addressed above all in marquetry work. From the late 15th century, the wooden cladding of choir stalls and scholar's studies showed trompe-l'oeil-like still life compositions made up of mathematical instruments, musical instruments, books and views of architecture.

Artists vitae, like that of Giorgio Vasari, dating from the 16th century, repeatedly report on the musical talents of individual artists. One of these is the Venetian painter Giogione (1478–1511), a passionate lutenist whose divine singing and playing of music was held in such high esteem that he was invited to prestigious events staged by the nobility as a musician. [11] He addressed music in his painting as well. Music is the central theme in one painting by Giorgione, the «Concert champêtre» (c. 1510, Louvre, Paris). The pastoral scene shows a lutenist resting in a meadow,turning to face a shepherd, and also nude woman playing a flute. On the left-hand edge of the picture a second naked woman is holding a jug over a stone trough. Giorgione, who was himself a passionate musician, is addressing the pastoral landscape as a place of musical inspiration here, where the urban musician is being given artistic inspiration by the divine muses and the shepherd. [12] Another example of the secularization of music as a theme takes us to Rome and the late 16th century.

Baroque - secularization and illusionism

In the course of the 16th century, music increased in popularity as part of a process of increasing secularization, but also as a topic of tangible refinement of sensual delight in life. In painting, the theme tends to crop up as an allegory of fleeting, transient existence. It quickly became a favourite subject for the genre painting that was emerging at the time.

The Italian painter Caravaggio (1571-1610) offers an early example. For his Roman patron Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte, with whom he lodged for a time, he painted a half-figure Group Portrait with Musicians. The youth playing the lute in the centre is surrounded by three other young men, including Caravaggio himself, who is placed behind the lute player on the right and looking at the viewer. He has a horn in his hand. In the background on the left it is possible to make out a winged cupid with a vine. A fourth youth is completely absorbed in studying sheet music. Even if one assumes that these are portraits of musicians from Cardinal del Monte's entourage, the ancient costumes also suggest an allegory, similarly to Giorgione's picture. As well as the homoerotic nature of the piece, its significance includes the allegorical reference to love and music. [13]

In the next century, further development of secular themes led to the emergence of the music still life. Musical instruments depicted alone appear as individual pictures, but also in an allegorical cycle of the human sensory organs. Old inventories record that cycles of this kind were arranged in Baroque chambers of art and curiosities, the predecessors of the modern museum. Rooms of this kind displayed a microcosm of paintings and sculptures, stuffed animals, herbariums,minerals, optical instruments and much more. Music still lifes do not just depict a whole range of the instruments of the day, the idea of vanity makes them instruments of the vanity of sensual pleasure, indeed quite simply into an allegory of man's short life.

Musical instruments occur in the context of depicting a loose life in countless Baroque genre pictures. Music being played in an inn, at a lovers' tryst or in a society salon becomes the symbol of a morally dubious approach to life.

In Baroque churches, architecture, painting and sculpture enter into a symbiosis under religious conditions for the last time. This aimed to merge all the genres, but also posed the threat of making religious content too superficial. As a response to the Counter-Reformation, Catholic church interiors were redesigned to enhance religious edification: high, vaulted naves, colourful painterly and sculptural decoration, highlighted with gold, an organ. The Catholic Church reacted to the Protestant ban of images with a new and sensual pictorial strategy that was not content with presenting a single image, but included the whole church interior. All the design elements worked together on the basis of the Baroque sense of emphatic sensuality and overflowing emotion, but also the idea of transience. The church interior was seen as a reflection of heaven, and an attempt was made to dissolve the boundaries between this world and the next with the interplay of architecture, sculpture and illusionistic wall painting. The nave was intended to open out as it rose, and the believer's eye was to be turned towards heaven and the welcoming saints, all to the sound of the organ. The 17th and 18th centuries are celebrated as the heyday of organ-building. Regular organ landscapes were created, driven by different architectural and liturgical requirements: it was only in liturgical celebration that musical orchestration and artistic decoration of a space could merge. This was to influence one of the guiding intellectual forces of Modernism - Richard Wagner - to some considerable extent.

Early Modernism - Wagner's Gesamtkunstwerk

In the course of the 19th century music acquired outstanding status when compared with the fine arts. Music's expressive resources could successfully reach awide public that was listening to a new language - especially that of Beethoven - after the Enlightenment, revolution and a war that had raged all over Europe. The philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer remarked on this: «Music is the true common language that is understood everywhere…. But it does not speak of things, rather of nothing but wellbeing and woe, which are the only realities for the will.» [14]

It is not surprising under these conditions that it was a musician who tried to bring the arts together, naturally with music in prime position: Richard Wagner (1813-1883). In his essay «Das Kunstwerk der Zukunft» (The Art-Work of the Future), he conceived an interplay of the arts as a Gesamtkunstwerk: «The great Gesamtkunstwerk that has to embrace all genres of art, in order to consume, to destroy each one of these genres to some extent as resources for the sake of achieving the overall purpose of them all, in other words the unconditional, direct representation of perfect human nature - this great Gesamtkunstwerk it (i.e. our spirit) recognizes not as the arbitrary possible deed of the individual, but as the necessarily conceivable joint work of the people of the future.» [15]

Wagner identified the composer Beethoven, the hero of «absolute music», as leading the way in this movement. He describes Beethoven's symphonies as «redeeming music from its own most particular element to become general art. It is the human gospel of the art of the future. No progress is possible from it, from it only the perfect work of art of the future can follow directly, the general drama, to which Beethoven has forged the artistic key for us. Thus music has produced from itself something that none of the other separate arts could do.» [16]

Wagner believed that he had received this artistic key himself. He strove towards the Gesamtkunstwerk he so desired to achieve by building the Festspielhaus in Bayreth, reserved exclusively for performances of his own works. The musical staging, with the orchestra in a concealed pit that concentrates the audience's attention entirely on the interplay of music and stage setting is seen as a precursor of cinematic performances.

Wagner's ideas were not without their effect on the fine arts. One of the outstanding examples of hisenormous cultural influence is provided by the Leipzig artist Max Klinger (1857- 1920). Over 16 years, and at a cost of over 100,000 marks he created his polychrome «Beethoven» sculpture.

Classical Modernism - the early days of abstraction

Wagner's synaesthetic ideas became the starting-point for one of Modernism's fundamental developments: abstraction. The simultaneity of acoustic and visual perception, made reality by staging at the Bayreuth Festspielhaus, became a new challenge for those who were preparing the way for abstract painting. As well as Frantisek Kupka (1871-1957), Mikalojus Ciurlionis (1875-1911) and Francis Picabia (1879-1953), these included the Russian painter Wassily Kandinsky (1866-1944). Looking back on his early days on Moscow, Kandinsky remarked: «But Lohengrin seemed to be to be a perfect realization of this Moscow. The violins, the deep base notes and the wind instruments in particular embodied the whole power of the evening hour for me at that time. I saw all my colours in my mind, they were there before my eyes. Wild, almost mad lines drew themselves in front of me. I did not dare use the expression that Wagner had painted <my hour> in music. But it was quite clear to me that on the other hand painting could develop the same sort of powers that music possesses.» [17]

A key experience for the synaesthetically inclined Kandinksy was contact with the music of the composer Arnold Schönberg (1874-1951). With Franz Marc, Alexei Javelensky, Marianne von Werefkin and Gabriele Münther and other members of the <Neue Künstlervereinigung> he attended one of Schönberg's concerts in Munich on 2 January 1911. The programme included a string quartet that introduced Schönberg's atonal period and the opus 11 piano pieces. This concert gave Kandinsky an important boost on his way to abstraction. His 1911 painting «Impression 3» was created as a result of this musical input. [18]

Abandoning perspective and also detaching colour from the objective motif took Kandinsky straight into abstraction. Even though he had taken the first steps in this direction in 1908/09, he had needed the crucial musical experience to help him risk the decisive step. Just as Schönberg had liberated himself from the constraints of the rules of musical composition,Kandinsky was trying to extricate himself from the dictates of imitating nature. Thus the end of central perspective in painting coincided with the loss of a binding key system in music. Composer and painter met at a turning-point. Kandinsky immediately tried to get in touch with Schönberg personally, who also painted, and made him a member of the «Blauer Reiter». In his first letter to Schönberg, he wrote: «You have realized something in your works that I was longing for in music, admittedly in an uncertain form. The natural movement through their own fate, the personal life in the individual voices in our composition in precisely what I am trying to find in the form of painting.» [19]

Unlike Kandinsky, who was decisively inspired towards atonal music by Schönberg, for the French painter Robert Delaunay (1885-1941) simultaneity and hence temporal perception shifted into the centre of his artistic output. He used the rules of simultaneous contrast to create vibrations in the eye. Time became a new category within artistic creativity, taking over from the meaning of space with a central perspective to a certain extent. Rhythm created a particular affinity between art and music. Delaunay's pictorial motifs started to move, they were even intended to lead to insights into the world over and above the optical effect. His friend, the poet Guillaume Apollinaire, poetically called this way of painting «Orphism.» A piece of Paragone seems to flare up again when we read this statement by Delaunay: «The eye is our most highly developed sense; it is most closely connected with our brain, our consciousness. It conveys the idea of the vital movement of the world and this movement is called simultaneity.» [20]

In Delaunay's case, painting became time-based colour composition. Perception was no longer based on the classical perspective composition of a rectangular framed picture. In his 1912 series of «Window Pictures» Delaunay composed imaged that were metres long, representing the perception of the picture subject as a time sequence, like an excerpt.

Delaunay wrote as follows about his «Window Pictures«: «The choice of ‹Window Pictures› as a title is still a reminder of concrete reality; but the new form the expressive resources are taking canalready be seen. These are windows on to a new reality. This new reality means nothing other than spelling out new expressive resources; these create the new form purely physically, as elements of colour. Among other things, these pictorial elements are juxtaposed contrasts that build up pictorial architecture, a complex, similar to an orchestra, developing like movements in colour. […] The series invokes only the sujet, the composition and orchestration of colours. That is the origin, the first appearance of non-representational painting in France. […] The colour is its own function; all its motion is present at every moment, as in musical composition at the time of Bach, or good jazz in our day.» [21]

Delaunay's reflections about the meaning of colour, linked with the loss of perspective and the new pictorial order analogous with musical composition are reminiscent of Kandinky's ideas. In fact the two artists met at the first «Blauer Reiter» exhibition in Munich in December 1911, in which Delaunay also featured. Correspondence between them from autumn 1911 to spring 1912, when Delaunay began his «Windows Series», has survived. [22]

From painting to the moving picture

Alongside Delaunay's painterly approach, artists also tried to compose colour rhythms as real movement. Leopold Survage (1879-1968) designed over seventy studies for his film project «Rhythme Coloré» in 1913. This was a colour-rhythm symphony that was unfortunately never realized. Survage summed up his aims as follows in 1914: «After painting had liberated itself from the conventional objects of the outside world, it conquered the terrain of abstract forms. Now it has to get over its last, fundamental barrier - immobility, so that it can become an expressive resource for our sensations that is as rich and subtle as music. Everything that is accessible to us has duration in time, which manifests itself most strongly in rhythm, activity and movement […] I want to animate my painting, I want to give it movement, I want to introduce rhythm into the concrete action of my abstract painting, rhythm that derives from my inner life.» [23]

As well as Survage, the Swedish painter Helmuth Viking Eggeling (1890-1925) and the Dadaist and film pioneer Hans Richter (1888-1976) worked on this subject. The two men met in Zurich in 1918, and worked together for several years in their search for a universal language. Richter described this period as follows: «Music became a model for both of us. We found a principle that fitted our philosophy in musical counterpoint: each action produces a corresponding reaction. So we found a suitable system in counterpoint fugue, a dynamic and polar arrangement of conflicting energies, and we saw life as such in this model. […] Month after month we studied and compared our analytical drawings, which we had prepared on hundreds of sheets of paper, until we finally came to see them as living creatures that grew, and then passed away […] Now we seemed to be confronted with a new problem, that of continuity […] until - late in 1919 - decided to do something. Eggeling made one theme of elements into the <Horizontal-Vertical-Mass>, on long paper rolls, and I made one of the rolls into <Präludium>. [24] The results of their experiments with form on long paper rolls took Richter and Eggeling directly to film. Their abstract formal studies became the basis for film scores. They and Walter Ruttmann (1887-1941) count as pioneers of the abstract film. [25]

The Bauhaus was a special place where the different arts could develop symbiotically. Many of the masters teaching fine art there were extraordinarily interested in music, like for example Wassily Kandinsky, Oskar Schlemmer, (1888-1943) and László Moholy-Nagy (1895-1946). Paul Klee (1879- 1940) also repeatedly included motifs from music in his drawings and water-colours. He discovered a relationship between painting and music at a very early stage. He put it like this in his diary: «The main disadvantage for the observer or re-creator is that they are faced with an end, and seems to be going in the opposite direction as far as genesis is concerned. […] Musical works have the advantage of being taken up again in the sequence in which they were conceived, and on repeated hearing the disadvantage of being tiring because of the evenness of the impression they make. For the ignorant, creative work has the disadvantage being at aloss about where to begin, and for the intelligent the advantage of varying the sequence strongly while taking it in.» [26] Klee perceived space as time, like Delaunay, to whom he had been introduced through Kandinsky in 1912. Instead of the concept of simultaneity that Delaunay had introduced, Klee used polyphony: «Polyphonic painting is superior to music in that temporal qualities are more spatial here. The concept of simultaneity merges more richly here. To illustrate the backward movement that I think out for music, I remember the reflection in the side windows of a moving tram.» [27]

Klee also claimed the category of time for painting. Differently from Leonardo, he sees time as the element that links the individual arts. His water-colours produced around 1921, which include «Fuge in Rot» (Fugue in Red), greatly influenced experiments with light projections taking place in the Bauhaus.

Abstract sounds - multi-media performances

Klee's colour compositions stimulated Ludwig Hirschfeld-Mack (1893-1965), who was still registered as a Bauhaus student at the time, to conduct his first experiments with light projections. [28] His first ideas for the so-called «Farbenlicht-Spiele» (Colour-Light Games) date from 1921/22. The abstract play of coloured forms was performed at the Bauhaus in 1923, accompanied by piano music. Several fellow performers were needed to realize the score the artist had devised. The colour forms emerging from the darkness of the projection room are directly reminiscent of Klee's water-colour compositions, they are painting translating into movement. Hirschfeld-Mack said of his light projections: «…we are aiming for a fugue-like, strictly structured play of colours, always derived from a definite colour-form theme.» [29]

The Hanover Dadaist Kurt Schwitters (1897-1948) did not work with colours, but with words. His so-called «Merz art» includes all artistic fields, from architecture via painting to poetry. According to Schwitters, the word «Merz» means «bringing every conceivable material together for artistic purposes, and technically the fact that the individual materials make the same effect in principle..» [30] Perhaps it was by chance that the first Merz work happened to come into being in association with music: Schwitters had his subject,a doctor-friend, play the piano while sitting for a portrait. When the man started to become agitated over Beethoven's «Moonlight Sonata», Schwitter intuitively glued a beer mat on to the cheek in the portrait! His first Merz poems were written around 1919, like «An Anna Blume» (To Anna Blume), for example. The «Lautsonate Merz 13» (Sound Sonata Merz 13) appeared on a gramophone record in 1924, and the «Ursonate» (Sonata with primeval sounds) was composed over a long period in several versions from 1922 to 1932. Schwitters wrote as follows in the magazine G in 1924: «It is not the word that is originally the material of poetry, it is the letter.» Thus he claims letters, or sounds, as the raw material for his poetry, like the rubbish he found in the streets and used for his material collages. Schwitters summed up his intentions in «Selbstbestimmungsrecht der Künstler» (The Artists' Right to Self-Determination) in 1919: «Merz poetry is abstract. Like Merz painting, it uses complete sentences from newspapers, posters, catalogue, conversations etc, as given elements, with and without changes. (That is terrible.) These elements do not need to fit in with the meaning, as there is no more meaning. (That is also terrible.) There are also no more elephants, there are only parts of the poem. (That is dreadful.) And you? (Draws war loan.) Decide yourselves what is poem and what is frame.» [31]

Fine artists increasingly frequently took part in avant-garde plays or even wrote their own pieces in the 1920s. Known works are Kandinsky's drafts for Mussorgsky's «Pictures at an Exhibition» (1928) or Oskar Schlemmer's «Triadisches Ballett» (Triadic Ballet), 1922/26.

An early example of composers and artists working together is provided by the Russian Futurist Alexei Krutschonych's opera. Michail Matjuschin set the libretto of his opera «Sieg über die Sonne» (Victory over the Sun) to music, and Kasimir Malevich designed the costumes and stage set. The piece had its world premiere in St. Petersburg in December 1913. The piece's trans-rational language was made up of incomprehensible word coinages, and came to express the so-called new reason that replaced the old values, symbolized by the sun. The opera was also of lasting importance for artistic development in Russia: Malevich deployed elements of Suprematism for the first time here. The Russian Constructivist El Lissitzky (1890-1941)takes up the theme again in 1920/21. He designed mechanical figures as a «three-dimensional design for an electro-mechanical show» for a planned new performance of the opera «Sieg über die Sonne» as a multi-media spectacle.

Lissitzky explained his aims himself in the foreword to an edition portfolio containing a selection of the stage designs: «This material is the fragment of a work created in Moscow in 1920/21 … We build a scaffolding in a square that is accessible and open on all sides, that is the show machinery. This scaffolding makes it possible for the show bodies to move in absolutely any way… They glide, roll, float up, in and over the scaffolding. All the parts of the scaffolding and all the bodies involved are set in motion using electro-mechanical forces and devices, and these are controlled by a single person. This is the show designer. His place is in the centre of the scaffolding at the switchboard for all energies. He directs the movement, the sound and the light. He switches the radio megaphone on and the din of railways stations rings out over the square, the roar of Niagara Falls, hammering in a rolling mill. Beams of light follow the movements of the bodies involved, refracted by prisms and reflections…The sun as expression of the old world energy in torn down from the sky by modern man, who can create his own source of energy because of his technical mastery. This idea in the opera is tied into the simultaneity of events. The language is alogical. Individual poems are sound poems.»

The classical artistic techniques like instrumental music and painting have already been gradually overcome by Survage, Viking-Eggeling, Richter, Ruttmann, Hirschfeld-Mack and replaced by new media forms like film, light and sound apparatuses. A new totality is designed that no longer operates as a individual work of genius, but is intended to be an event for the whole of society, in the political context of revolutionary Russia. Here the imposition of technology on human beings and sound has finally consumed Wagner's vision of the divine composer in favour of a world of apparatus that confronts the artist with a completely new set of tasks.

[1] For an introduction see Karin v. Maur (ed.), Vom Klang der Bilder. Musik in der Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts, Munich, 1985; Helga de la Motte-Haber, Musik und bildende Kunst, Laaber, 1990; Frank Schneider (ed.), Im Spiel der Wellen. Musik nach Bildern, Munich, 2000.

[2] M. Bernhard, »Musik«, in Lexikon des Mittelalters, vol. VI, Munich, 1993, column 948-955.

[3] Johannes Tripps, Das handelnde Bildwerk in der Gotik. Forschungen zu den Bedeutungsschichten und der Funktion des Kirchengebäudes und seiner Ausstattung in der Hoch- und Spätgotik, Berlin, 1998.

[4] H. Braun, «Musik, Musikinstrumente», in: Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie, 4th vol., Freiburg 1994, column 597– 611.

[5] Leon Battista Alberti, De pictura, 26, quoted from: idem, Das Standbild. Die Malkunst. Grundlagen der Malerei, ed. by O. Bätschmann/Ch. Schäublin, Darmstadt, 2000, p. 237.

[6] Leon Battista Alberti, De pictura, 26, quoted from: idem, Das Standbild. Die Malkunst. Grundlagen der Malerei, ed. by O. Bätschmann/Ch. Schäublin, Darmstadt, 2000, p. 245.

[7] Cf. Leon Battista Alberti, ed. by Joseph Rykwert/Anne Engel, Manuta, 1994, pp. 224-241.

[8] Cf. Giorgio Vasari, Le vite dei più eccellenti pittori scultori ed architettori, ed. by G. Milanesi, vol. IV, Florence MDCCCLXXIX, pp. 28, 40.

[9] Leonardo da Vinci, Il Paragone, LV 31c, quoted from: Leonardo da Vinci. Sämtliche Gemälde und die Schriften zur Malerei, ed. by André Chastel, Munich, 1990, p. 135.

[10] Leonardo da Vinci, Il Paragone, LV 29, quoted from: Leonardo da Vinci. Sämtliche Gemälde und die Schriften zur Malerei, ed. by André Chastel, Munich, 1990, p. 146.

[11] Cf. Giorgio Vasari, Le vite dei più eccellenti pittori scultori ed architettori, ed. by G. Milanesi, vol. IV, Florence MDCCCLXXIX, p. 92.

[12] Cf. Gabriele Frings, Giorgiones Ländliches Konzert. Darstellung der Musik als künstlerisches Programm in der venezianischen Malerei der Renaissance, Berlin, 1999.

[13] Cf. The Age of Caravaggio, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 1985, pp. 228–235.

[14] Arthur Schopenhauer, Paralipomena § 218.

[15] Richard Wagner, «Das Kunstwerk der Zukunft,» in idem, Gesammelte Schriften, vol. 3, Leipzig, 1907, ( pp. 42–177), p. 60.

[17] Wassily Kandinsky, Rückblicke (Berlin 1913), 3. ed. Bern, 1977, p. 14.

[18] Cf. Schönberg, Kandinsky, Blauer Reiter und die Russsche Avantgarde, Journal of the Arnold Schönberg Center 1/2000, Vienna, 2000.

[19] Quoted from Matthias Schmidt, «Arnold Schönberg und Wassily Kandinsky. Biographische Annäherungen,» p. 19, in Journal of the Arnold Schönberg Center 1/2000, pp. 16-32.

[20] Robert Delaunay, «Das Licht,» in Hajo Düchting (ed.), Robert Delaunay. Zur Malerei der reinen Farbe, Schriften 1912– 1940, Munich, 1983, p. 125.

[21] Robert Delaunay, «Das Licht,» in Hajo Düchting (ed.), Robert Delaunay. Zur Malerei der reinen Farbe, Schriften 1912– 1940, Munich, 1983, pp. 36-37.

[22] Cf. «Wassily Kandinsky – Robert Delaunay: Ein Dialog im April 1912. Rekonstruktion», in Robert Delaunay. Sonia Delaunay. Das Centre Pompidou zu Gast in Hamburg, Cologne 1999, pp. 186-191.

[23] Leopold Survage, Document Nr. 8182, July 29, 1914, Académie des Sciences, Paris, quoted from: Karin von Maur (ed.), Vom Klang der Bilder. Musik in der Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts, Munich, 1985, p. 228.

[24] Quoted from Standish D. Lawder, «Der abstrakte Film: Richter und Eggeling,» in: Hans Richter 1888–1976. Dadaist. Filmpionier. Maler. Theoretiker, Berlin/Zurich/Munich, 1982, pp. 27–35, here p. 30.

[25] Cf. the essay «Sound & Vision in Avantgarde & Mainstream» by Dieter Daniels and the source text by Walter Ruttmann, «Malerei mit Zeit.»

[26] Quoted from Christian Geelhaar, Paul Klee. Schriften. Rezensionen und Aufsätze, Cologne, 1976, p. 173.

[27] Paul Klee, Tagebuch Nr. 1081, quoted from Christian Geelhaar, «Moderne Malerei und Musik der Klassik – eine Parallele», in: Paul Klee. Das Werk der Jahre 1919–1933. Gemälde, Handzeichnungen, Druckgraphik, Museum Ludwig, Cologne, 1979, pp. 31–44, here p. 37.

[28] Cf. Holger Wilmsmeier, Deutsche Avantgarde und Film. Die Filmmatinee ‹Der absolute Film› 3. und 10. Mai 1925 (diss. Heidelberg, 1993), Münster ,1994, pp. 7–16. Anne Hoormann, Lichtspiele. Zur Medienreflexion der Avantgarde in der Weimarer Republik, Munich, 2003, pp. 116–120, 159–166.

[29] Quoted from Anne Hoormann, Lichtspiele. Zur Medienreflexion der Avantgarde in der Weimarer Republik, Munich, 2003, p. 165.

[30] Kurt Schwitters, «Die Merzmalerei,» (1919), quoted from Kurt Schwitters. Ich ist Stil, Museum der bildenden Künste, Leipzig, 2000, p. 90.

[31] Kurt Schwitters, «Selbstbestimmungsrecht der Künstler.» 1919, quoted from Dietmar Elger, Der Merzbau von Kurt Schwitters. Eine Werkmonographie, Cologne, 1999, pp. 17–18.

Source: http://www.medienkunstnetz.de/themes/image-sound_relations/sounding_mage/

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #270

“please remain calm; the end has arrived. we cannot save you; enjoy the ride.”

Do you own pastel-colored pants? No. What type of lotion do you use? I don't really use it. Nothing seems to help how dry my skin is. What were your favorite clothing stores in high school? Hot Topic. If you could have a car in any color you wanted, which color? Pastel pink, but realistically (given a pink car would probably have a paint job I'd have to pay for, I assume?), I like burnt orange cars. Not too brown-ish, though. What is your favorite color, do you look good in it, & do you wear it a lot? Pink, probably not, and no. Name someone you know who hates pink. Idk. What is your favorite Avril Lavigne song? "Nobody's Home." Do you kill bugs? Sometimes. Depends. If they're in my house, most likely. Have you ever had a bedroom that had wallpaper on the walls? No. Do you own any rompers? No. What’s one thing you’ve done to celebrate Earth Day? I made a birdhouse out of a milk carton once. Animal Planet taught me lol. Do you use window clings (aka window stickers)? No. What color is your stapler? Black. Do you have a desk that you sit at in your room? Ugh, no, but that's one reason I want to move to somewhere I have a bigger room for a desk so I don't do everything in my damn bed. What do you miss about college? Feeling like I was worth something and on a "proper" path. Was your middle school crush the same as your high school crush? No. What is/was your dream school? I never had a "dream" school. Do you wish you could talk to someone about your past? If so, who? Idk, probably someone. What motivates you? Music and/or videos on whatever subject I could use motivation in, like self-care on my bad days. Have you ever completed a weight loss program? No. Tried, though. When was the last time you did something for the first time? I went through a doctor appointment entirely without Mom just a few days ago; she had to stay in the car due to chemo, so I filled stuff out, checked in/out alone, answered questions on my own, that business. I'm entirely aware it's sad as hell that a 24 y/o did that for the first time, but if you knew just how dependent I am on my mom, you'd get it. Which do you prefer: Valentine’s Day or Easter? Valentine's when I actually have someone to celebrate with, but I love Easter as an aunt with how excited the kids are about candy and all. Easter sorta rubs me the wrong way though since, y'know, Christianity essentially stole and rebuilt it. Do you wait until the last minute to decorate, or do you decorate early? I myself don't even decorate. Mom only does for Christmas, and it's very last minute. What’s your favorite Starbucks drink? I don't drink Starbucks. What were you wearing in the last good selfie you took? *checks phone* uh the one where I'm wearing a red tank top is okay. That's all you can see cuz FUCK taking full-body pics of me. What’s on your wish list right now? Ha, I actually have a list in my phone of things I really want/need to buy when I can. A few include a bigger terrarium to Venus, a treadmill, an Unus Annus shirt before the channel and thus merch expire, glasses for driving... What do you use to sweeten your tea? I don't drink tea. Have you ever owned an expensive eyeshadow palette? No, I don't wear enough colors or makeup in general to warrant buying one. When was the last time you stepped outside of your comfort zone? The aforementioned doctor visit. How would you rate your self-esteem? Low, healthy, or high? Low as like, the deepest oceanic trench probs. Do you own a tripod for your camera? Yeah. Were you a bigger fan of Lindsay Lohan or Hilary Duff? Hilary. Do you make Halloween costumes out of clothes from your closet? Only ever to just be a goth to live out my inner fantasy of regularly flaunting that aesthetic. Do you enjoy putting outfits together? Not particularly. Would you rather it rain or snow? Snow! What does your umbrella look like? Don't have one. What’s one thing you’ve had a toxic reaction to? Do you mean like, emotionally/mentally toxic? I'm guessing probably yes. Even though parts of it were entirely realistic, understandable reactions/behaviors, I most definitely had some toxicity in me regarding the breakup, too. Which do you prefer: cropped tops or tunic tops? Uggghhhh, both are so cute. On me, I'd only ever wear tunic tops, but on others, I tend to find cropped tops cuter. What’s a style or trend that you think is ridiculous? I don't pay enough attention to this to really know... hm. Yeah, idk. Which YouTuber do you want to be more like? I could only dream of being as motivated and smart and determined and "I can do this shit" as Markiplier jfc I Love One Man Only. Do you like stuffed animals? EEEEEEEEK yes!!!! What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Have you ever gotten straight A’s in a class? If so, which classes? Yes; not to brag whatsoever, but too many for me to remember. I remember I got my very first B in 5th grade in I think math, and I was so bummed out. Were there any subjects that you got a perfect SAT score in? If so, what? I don't think so. Are you happy today? If so, what made you happy today? I'm content-ish, not happy, but also not unhappy. Is your bed right by a window? There's one to my upper right and middle left, but my bed's not exactly against either. Do you spend more time in your bedroom or your living room? I barely leave my bedroom. Which holiday is your favorite to decorate for? Halloween, if I actually did decorate. Do you name stuffed animals still? Very rarely. Depends on what it is, the importance, etc. What titles did you win in the senior class polls? I FUCKIN READ THIS AS "TITTIES" AND WAS JUST LIKE... Anyway, none. Were you popular in school? No. If you’re from the US, what states have you lived in? Only NC. Who was your best roommate? Well, Jason, if he even counted as a "roommate." Was your first roommate your best roommate? See above, considering idk if he fits the term; if he does, then yes. What’s the best family vacation you’ve ever been on? Disney World. Have you ever wanted to be a model? No. What years did you attend prom? Sophomore (bf was a senior and he took me) and senior. What do you want to be for Halloween? I was recently listening to a metal version of Oogie Boogie's song from TNBC and it hit me: MISS Oogie Boogie. A fat bitch could pull that shit off, watch me ho. Which member of your family are you closest to? My mom. If you have any regrets, what is the biggest one? If not, why do you have no regrets? Letting a boy become absolutely all that mattered and more to me. Would you ever apply to be on reality TV? Why? Ew, no. I don't need any more people judging me and my life. What is the best thing that has ever happened to you? The partial hospitalization program that saved my life, literally. Do you have a hard time letting things go? It depends on what it is, but generally, yes. I recently realized one of my greatest flaws: I respond very, very poorly to loss, in any way. Looking back on people (especially people), events, other things... a negative, chronic reaction to loss is present throughout. What have you accomplished in life that has made you the most happy? Emotionally healed, a lot. I don't think some things will ever fully scar over, but nevertheless, I don't mentally have fuckin gashes in me. Have you ever struggled with your weight? Ever since the breakup, yes. I thought I was slightly fat before then, but looking at pictures now, I just think "damn hunny u look gud" and realize I was perfectly healthy. But anyway, I was put on a medication called Abilify (full-on name droppin', fuck this med), and it MURDERED my metabolism. I could eat a fuckin carrot and gain five pounds, probably. Emotional eating probably contributed too, but here's the thing: my current doctor took me off of it, knowing the moment I mentioned it that it was not only bad for me and my conditions but also responsible for the extreme weight gain? Pounds dropped like a ton of bricks, and this started before my emotional eating began to die off and regulate. I lost around 80 pounds just from dropping a goddamn pill. Cue college essay-long rant here about how my body image was slaughtered, how much I loathe the fucking doc that kept me on the med and blamed everything on me, and now how I've been stuck weight-wise for two years despite a vast plethora of methods to continue shedding a;sdlkfajkwlelawe GUYS I could rant til my hypothetical great-grandchildren die. When you are out with your friends are you loud and outgoing or shy and reserved? It depends on who the friend is, where we are, etc., but generally, I'm just awkward, trying to be outgoing when in fact I'm questioning every single thing I say and do al;wekjrkawde this survey has taken a TURN. Do you like to stay in your pajamas all day long? I don't leave my pj's unless I have to leave the house and go inside somewhere besides like, a gas station or something that's just "whatever." In high school did you have a lot of friends? Do you still keep in touch? I wouldn't say a *lot*, no, but not a tiny amount, either. The only one I ever still see is Girt, but I keep up with many on Facebook via the like button and shit, ha. Do you really care about such issues as abortion, religion, and global warming? Fuck yes I do. Who is the biggest womanizer you know? Juan sure was, but I haven't been in contact with him for years. Would you ever have a threesome? No. Who is the most attractive person you know? Of those I personally know-know, my answer will probably always be Alon like jc she's beautiful. When did you last feel the most free? ZOINKS we can't ask that question in America rn. Is there anyone who likes (or liked) you and had a really hard time getting over you? I don't know. Did you ever love someone and feel like it was wrong? Love? No. Well, before I realized I was bi, maybe Mini counts, as then I was anti-LGBT and couldn't even imagine myself as anything but straight. What’s your favorite bug? Butterflies. What’s the longest amount of time you liked/loved somebody for? Yeesh... I still can't say with absolute confidence I no longer love Jason at all, whom I started dating in 2012 and went head over heels for. What song makes you cry? There's a few that are capable of it sometimes, but do fucking not play "Stairway To Heaven" if I'm within 10 miles of you. "Another Life" by MiW usually makes me tear up towards the end, but it normally doesn't get that far anymore. Do you like rock or rap music better? Rock, as I'm not a rap fan. If you could watch someone change, would you? Yes let me live my life a;lsdkfjaws Ever known someone with an eating disorder? I don't know. I think maybe? Have you ever had a white Christmas? I think? The best snow we ever got was late Christmas night though, and the next morning was a total whiteout. What’s something you want to do but aren’t sure of yet? Hm. Idk. I'm pretty sure of most things I want to do. Biggest lie you ever told? I'm not entirely sure and I'd rather not search for one. Do you have a religion? I don't fit perfectly into any. I relate most with Neo-Paganism, but even that I deviate from some. Believe that there is a point to churches? I mean sure, people have the right to believe in/worship what they want to, and some people get a lot of joy and reassurance out of going. How do eat Oreos? "I split them in half and lick the cream before eating the cookie." <<<< Converse or Vans? Idc. Eh, maybe Converse, but idk. Dancing or watching others dance? I love watching others dance, it's why I enjoyed dance recitals and competitions. Favorite thing to touch/feel? My cat! <3 Rather be in a tornado or a large earthquake? Both would be horrifying, but I guess earthquake. I've had an outrageous fear of tornadoes since I was very little. Would you rather Santa or the Easter Bunny actually exist? Santa, duh. Would you rather spread gossip or start a fight? Start a fight, I guess. Trying to sully someone's name with false information would haunt me way more than starting an understandable fight. What has been the best New Year's for you so far & why? I don't know. What is the weirdest fear you’ve ever heard of someone having? Do you have any weird fears, and if so, what are they? Uhhh I think maybe butterflies? Idk, even that's not too weird considering it's an insect, and that's common. I'm personally absolutely terrified of pregnancy and also whale sharks scare me quite a bit. ig that's weird. How did you find Tumblr? lol how could you not know at some point as a teen on the Internet. What of the 8 wonders of the world do you find the most fascinating, if any? I had to look them up lmao. I guess the Great Pyramid of Giza. I in general find Egyptian culture and art to be very cool. Do you have a webcam? If you do, do you ever use it and what for? I mean, it's built into the laptop. I never use it. What is something that you think is really underrated? The band Otep, for one. I mean they're not small, but I don't think most people interested in the metal genre know them. OH and then there are A LOT of YouTube artists that MADLY deserve to be signed. I have a large chunk of metal musicians I listen to, and those especially like Jonathan Young blow my fucking mind they haven't technically "made it," even if they have a large subscriber base. Have you ever had a dream where you died? Did anything weird happen to your body after it? Yes, a few. Now hang with me, okay? One of my worst nightmares as a kid involved the wicked witch from TWoO turning me into one of those fucking party things that you blow into it and the paper unfurls and her using it killed me. Yo idk. I was really scared of that witch as a kid. What’s the scariest dream you’ve ever had? How about the most realistic? It involved my dad and that's all that needs to be said. Realistic? Hm. This was SO long ago that I barely remember *just* how real it felt, but I remember it felt real as fuck. I was very little when this happened. I dreamed that I went outside to our porch because there was a weird light and when I stepped outside, a swan and a goose flew down from the light onto the porch to become my late grandpa and my deeply beloved cat Midnight, who died from sickness. I'm sure it was just a dream now, but back then, I was VERY convinced it was like a vision from God or something, telling me they were okay and with us. Do you have a favorite fashion trend? What is it? Is there a fashion trend right now that you think is completely ridiculous, and if so, what? What do you think was the worst fashion trend of all time? I don't care about fashion enough to go in depth about all this. I'll tell you right now though that mullets were the worst mistake known to mankind. Do you tend to like original horror movies or re-makes better? What’s your favorite horror movie? Is it an original or a remake? If you're remaking an old one, I'll probably like it more since they're generally not nearly as cheesy. Modern horror movies, I don't have much of a preference. My fave is The Blair Witch Project, and it's an original. What is one characteristic in a person that you cannot stand? What characteristics do you like best in a person? Do you possess any of these characteristics? Those that act violent when they're angry, for one. Those scare me. Some traits that I really like are compassion, patience, genuineness, empathy, kindness just for the sake of being so, stuff like that. I'd like to think I've got some of those. It's notable that in my nightmares, I'm way more violent than I actually am, though. What kind of jeans do you like best? When I actually wore jeans, they were like solely skinny jeans. What has been the most traumatic experience of your life? Does it still bother you? A very abrupt and poorly-executed breakup after a long-term relationship and falling way, way too hard to be healthy. Does it still bother me? PTSD is stapled on my fucking forehead if you know the slightest about it. I've healed a whole lot, but I'm pretty sure it's a scar that's never going to even fully seal.

#survey #surveys #quiz #questions

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theartfuldodger26 · 5 years

Note

For the prompt I'll be predictable: Harry Potter, Bellamort and Bellatrix 😁

Thanks for the prompts, @bellamort1993! Feel free to answer the same :)

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character:

Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort.

Bella is the closest to my heart, but apparently I waste the most brainmatter on Tom/Voldemort, so *shrugs*

Harry is my favourite light character, he’s an admirable person.

Least Favorite character:

Umbridge, as is universally accepted.

Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Bellamort (which is canon, bitches)

Delphi/Harry (it will become canon, you just wait for TCC part3)

Tomarry but not Harrymort (nearly counts as canon judging by how often Harry gushes over handsome Tom’s face)

Drarry (I’m human and susceptible to fandom mainstream, plus there’s some fantastic fics out there)

Delphi/Victoire (cause two pretty, hot-headed ladies are my cup of tea any day)

Character I find most attractive:

Bellatrix, hands down. Then Voldemort can do things to me too, but Bella would be my first choice.it’s so nice being bi, isn’t it.

Character I would marry:

No one, I’m happy by myself.

Delphi can be my angsty fuck buddy with whom we meet every once in a while, bitch, get drunk, cry and fuck.

Character I’d be friends with:

Harry, tho I’m not the best of friends and he does bring an unappealing high mortality rate to any occasion. It’s fiiine.

a random thought:

The wizarding world makes zero sense in so many places. They haven’t had an Industrial Revolution, meaning they haven’t known first hand the new ideas that came with it, and they seem to be stuck in the Middle Ages in many ways, even if they dont seem extremely Christian as these times actually were. We know little about the political system and their beliefs are so random. It’s really confusing.

An unpopular opinion:

Idk what’s unpopular these days. Aside from Albus’ name, I actually liked the Epilogue.

It showed what we needed to know: that Harry and the rest made it out okay. They found the courage to face their destroyed community and rebuild, even though they had gone through enough during the war. I think JKR said it herself in an interview how important rebuilding is after a catastrophe, how it can daunt even the bravest people. The miracles of Japan and Germany bouncing back and better after WWII are relevant real-life examples here.

A married Harry, enthusiastic about hugging his kids goodbye on their first day of school, a day that to him symbolises a new beginning, is the greatest gift and it does not erase the pain he might feel every day for going through hell in his early life. In fact, it’s this snipet of normalcy what he craved as a boy and refused to daydream about because its weight would be too much,and now he gets to have it. Along with the nightmares and the PTSD and the new challenges yes, but now, in this moment, as he waves to the new generation that he helped create, he’s safe, loved and happy. He deserves it.

Second unpopular opinion: I don’t give a damn if McGonagall’s timeline is screwed up by bringing her to life in the 20′s. Didn’t really matter to the story before and she’s a freaking badass and comic relief, which is the best combo ever. Is it fan-bating or whatever it was called? Sure. But if she makes the story better with her presense I give minus two fucks about when JKR originally said she was born (also, newsflash: people have the right to change HC’s, especially people who don’t shit about maths, like our dear creator)

My Canon OTP:

BELLAMORT

Seriously, I have screenshoted the details of TCC where it shows they’re canon.

My Non-canon OTP:

Harry/Delphi

I know, I’m sick, it’s fine. *insert dog sipping coffee in the flaming house meme here*

Most Badass Character:

Bellatrix, handsdown.

McGonagall for good people.

Most Epic Villain:

Voldemort, we’d have no books without him. He can be dumb, but it’s cute.

Pairing I’m not a fan of:

I’m not huge on non-canon Hermione ships, and anything with Snape is gross.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

…Snape? Not his character, but the positive light she gave him by naming Harry’s kid after him. It appeared she was clear on him not being an admirable person, but then he’s the bravest bloke ever? No, ma’am.

On a Fantastic Beasts note, I do hope they handle the backstories of all characters well. We’ll surely get back to this after the FB series are over.

Favourite Friendship:

The Golden Trio, they work as a three-man-group better, I won’t devide them. Also, as a part-time writer I have to admire how the writing and dynamics were handled, it’s so hard to think as more than one person, not to mention three!

Character I most identify with:

PostAzkaban!Bellatrix feels she’s letting her master and herself down, and so do I. I keep looking for my former self. Who wasn’t much after all, but had some qualities I should recultivate.

Character I wish I could be:

… I’d like to have some Bellamort qualities that I lack, but in general I’m fine working on myself.

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them:

After I finished the books, so that’s since 2007. 12 cool, angsty years.

My thoughts:

I love them, they’re my evil babies. In fact, I don’t even have reasons for loving them, as most shippers do, I��d just die for them, end of reasoning.

What makes me happy about them:

That they’re complicately made for each other in their unique goth way. And that in the end they had a kid, which I think helped Voldemort out a lot with his issues with intimacy and emotions.

What makes me sad about them:

That they died *sobs hysterically*.

Also in the books they have like two scenes together. (HE SCREAMED THO)

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Seeing Bella’s character butchered down to a snivelling, slavish idiot, though these aren’t Bellamort fics usually.

In Bellamort fics, it feels like a cheat when it says Bellamort but it’s just Bella pining and Voldemort really not caring. I don’t have a problem with the POV, but it needs to be tagged as unrequited. Otherwise I’m open to perspectives.

Things I look for in fanfic:

Good writing, mostly.

I’m also a huge fan of Muggle!AU’s, so if you have that, I’ll read it, no questions asked XD

My wishlist:

On Amazon? :P Fine, I’ll show myself out

I presume this means wishlist on fics/art with these two, but do correct me if I’m wrong. I dont have one, since I write myself, so whatever I want to read, I write. Right now I’m eager to finish the following Bellamort fics:

1. Harry finds out about Bellamort via looking through Voldy’s stuff.

2. BellaDiesButVoldyWins!AU

3. Voldemort discovers his breastfeeding kink

4. A therewasonlyonebed!fic

5. Tomarry turns Bellamort in Easter setting, Muggle!AU, Harry wets himself in the process

In general I’d say I’d like to see more classic, tropy fanfics with these two, lighter ones, you know. Angst is great, but let us enjoy the coffeeshop!AU too.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Alone and miserable.

I guess Bella would have been okay with Rodolphus, had Tom/Voldemort never been born.

And Voldemort/Tom would have been fine too with some nameless pretty woman he did not love but had to marry to keep face.

But I think that they would have never been truly happy with anyone else. especially Tom, he’d never be really comfortable with anyone.

My happily ever after for them:

VoldemortWins!AU, they conquer Europe, Bella is Minister for War, Voldemort the Emperor. Maybe they have a kid, maybe a couple more or none at all, who cares, the point is they live and fulfull their dreams of revolutionising the Wizarding Wolrd.

I also have a sappy afterlife!AU where for a while Bella is imprisoned at the family castle for having a halfblood little bastard, goes half-insane as Voldemort seacrhes for her (they had a spat right after they got there), and Delphi kills herself and goes to find her dad in small-child form. They finally get tgether and live deathly ever after in some Norwegian fjord in the frozen tundra. (it’s also my personal happy ending, only it’s cats and snakes)

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character:

I love Bella. She’s a bitch and a sadist, but I love her.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character:

The one and only, his majesty the Dark Lord himself.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Rodolphus, he’s her only friend.

Also, sad HC: Bella was very close to Andromeda until she got too involved with Voldemort and his cause, and they drifted apart. No one wept harder than Bella after Andy left, and it was her who spent days banging on the Tonks’ door to let them speak to her. Voldy could squeeze tears out of his shirt after she fell asleep on him crying about it.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Again, not sure about what’s unpopular.

I believe she suffers from genuine mental illness that tortures her a lot and makes her life (and her shared life with Voldemort too) very hard. Also I find her more self-doubting and reserved than most authors, hard working and largely indifferent to people who aren’t Voldemort.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Actual romantic scene would have been nice, but HE SCREAMED after all. Let’s not ask for too much.

Favorite friendship for this character:

Rodolphus and Andromeda. Recently I’ve started Brotp-ing Sirius with Bella too, before they parted ways.

My crossover ship:

I don’t really have any other fandoms, sorry.

Well, that was fun! Thanks again!

#ask #bellamort #bellatrix lestrange #lord voldemort #bellamort1993

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carriedon-awolfsback · 6 years

Text

20 Questions

@the-world-is-on-fire tagged me! Thanks! :D

Name: Amber

Nicknames: I actually don’t have any. Sometimes my boss calls me by my surname if we’re being dumb and pretending to be in a chalk-and-cheese buddy-cop movie, but that’s it.

Gender: Female, albeit with occasional wobbles of questioning usually bought on by hormonal surges and/or someone noisily suggesting I should shave my legs and wear a skirt for once in my life.

Orientation: For simplicity’s sake I’ll say bi. I’ve been sexually attracted to people of various genders over the years, but I don’t act on it any more, because I’ve found I don’t actually enjoy the reality of physical and romantic intimacy.

Nationality: Britisher unfortunately

Faith/religion: I’ve been exploring Norse tradition Heathenry for the best part of a year now. That means I have an altar displaying items related to the pre-Christian Scandinavian pantheon (mostly Odin but others too) which I leave shots of whiskey on about once a week and sorta pray/meditate at sometimes. Yes, really! I’d absolutely class myself as a layperson and my practise focus is all about interpreting lessons in the Eddas, self-reliance, self-acceptance and keeping healthy routines. I don’t do any divination or witchy stuff beyond carrying an Ansuz rune around with me tied to my handbag for luck. I do have a sense of humour about it and I’m always open to questions about it as long as they’re decently respectful.

Hobbies: I work pretty long hours these days so all my free time is reserved for writing and drawing. Does being able to find and customise the perfect Instagram filter for any photo count as a hobby? I also love a night at the theatre and try to sample both on- and off-West End shows when I have the time and money.

Pets: None :( I don’t have the disposable income, time, or space in my current lifestyle. I get my pet fix by befriending other people’s cats I meet in the street so they visit my house sometimes.

Favourite... Colours: I went to art school, this is like asking me to pick a favourite child. Blue and green are my best colours to wear (and black but that’s a shade /pedantry)

Holiday: Easter! Yes, the big Christian party cribbed wildly from the pagans. I dunno, my (totally atheist) family just goes really hard at that time of year for some reason with the good food and spring vibes, and it’s nice to be around. It’s like Christmas, but more temperate and with less ‘MUST HAVE SO MUCH FUN AND SPEND MONEY’ pressure.

Books: Dracula, Frankenstein, Let The Right One In, Ben Aaronovich’s London books... I cut my big kid reading teeth on Pratchett, Gaiman and Tolkien. I really struggle to settle down and read like I used to these days.

Films: Alien, Inglourious Basterds, Hot Fuzz, Withnail & I, The History Boys, the original LOTR trilogy, Jurassic Park, old David Lean movies (the ones where everyone has either a posh or cockney accent and all the women have viciously barbed conversations while hiding the fact they’re all shouldering immense emotional burdens)

TV: I really don’t watch a lot of TV, I’m incredibly bad at keeping up with serials. The only must-watch on my list is American Gods; I LOVED the first season and hope they keep the same style and vibe going.

Music: Rammstein, Ghost, Motörhead, AC/DC, Florence, The Prodigy, Laura Marling, Depeche Mode, Bowie, Kraftwerk, Green Day, Fleetwood Mac, NIN, Placebo, I don’t know much about classical but I love the Planets Suite and The Lark Ascending, any amount of showtunes... I’m genre-omnivorous; I just like my music to be passionate and kind of dark regardless of which instruments and what kinds of voices are doing it.

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: I like a peppermint or builder’s tea but I’ll take hot chocolate over it any time.

Favourite meme: Giving every object, image and concept you come across an ‘energy’ (cursed energy, ambiguous but powerful energy, gay energy, big dick energy)

I want to live long enough to: See the world get, like, even just a little bit less shitty.

Weird obsessions: Scaring myself to absolute death on YouTube at 1am with unexplained 999 call audios, numbers stations, backwards sound recordings, emergency broadcast systems and sirens, and nuclear war scenarios. I work in a museum and I literally could not go into one of our exhibits last winter because it contained a Protect And Survive video on loop, and as soon as I heard the tone at the start of the clip my eyes would automatically start pouring with anxiety tears. So obviously I gotta listen to that shit in my downtime for entertainment purposes!

Random fact: My grandma dropped me on my head in a hot tub as a baby. Sometimes I remind her of this and she just chortles and sips her wine

Goals for 2018: Hit our fundraising target for the year with my team at work. Drop a little bit of weight so the doctor gets off my case. Get my bedroom fixed up less like a big store cupboard and more like a cosy sleeping and living space.

I won’t tag anyone as I think everyone seems to have done it already, but if we’re mutuals and you’ve not already had one, consider this your tag!

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sun-through-the-trees · 4 years

Note

For that ask meme...... 1-10 please 😘

Oh boy, ok. I'm gonna assume it's the most recent one I see? I'm bad at tagging these things (it would be SO rad if y’all specified or linked them or smth)

1- What's your Sexual orientation? I don't know! I don't know. I don't spend any effort thinking about it and it isn't getting anywhere that way. The intensity of the effort there probably betrays more about the answer than who I'm actually into. 2- What are you obsessed with rn? God, I don't know. The Owl House is a top contender, but the thing actually occupying the most of my cerebral time is probably mythology, writing conventions, fantasy art, and anything else related to the book I'm writing. Not to shameless plug but. There it is! Read my shit! When it exists. 3- Ever done any drugs? Have I!!! Yeah, like, a lot of them. I did turn down TWO offers to do coke in college, which is honestly too bad, I should have, it would have informed my world better. Plus, drugs. I kinda love doing those quizzes universities send out to survey how well their anti-drug programs are working bc I can check off a lot of them. The normal ones, ofc. Acid is by FAR my favorite, to a severe extent, gonna have another psychadelic peg in that board soon. I had a really great mush trip with some really great people not long ago. I did poppers one time, that was wild. I think I did hash once? 4- What piercings do you want? I don't know for sure? The one I really wanted, I have, on my nose. I think it would be cool to get an eyebrow piercing on the opposing side, but the courts are out on whether it's for symmetry or just bc Kayla already thinks it's cool. I'm not really willing to deal with the consequences of a lip piercing, and I think it sorta amps up the judgement on it. So maybe just an ear, but I don't want the whole East/West coast connotations. 5- How many people have you kissed? Oh boy, see, I had you thinking I was cool before this question. I have to count every time, and it isn't like I can not count some and still get a decent number. So like. Uhhhhh. 9? 10? Somewhere in there. I count 9, after a good chunk of time counting. Some stand out a lot more than others. 6- Describe your dream home. Oh god. Uh. In the future, for sure. Small, dark, colored something interesting, i.e., not grey or brown or god damned beige, or anything appropriate for Easter. Paid. Enough. Not full, but containing someone I love. 7- Who are you jealous of? So here's the thing. There are many things I want to be able to do. There are many things I want to look like. There are many things I want to pull off. But I decided unceremoniously and dishonorably a long time ago that desire like that is exhaustive and bad. That isn't to say that I don't still exhaust myself with yearning, but I don't do it on jealousy, at least not in the kind of way that really fits this question. 8- What's your fav show to binge? Solid question. Really into The Owl House rn, but there is nowhere near enough to binge. Avatar maybe? Idk, I don't really love binging the same thing over and over, and shows really conducive to it, i.e. long, interesting, and well-developed, don't really hold my interest enough to finish them a lot of the time, let alone to binge them repeatedly. 9- Do you watch porn? Man, what kind of personal ass question is that! Yeah, I mean of course I do, I'm not a christian. But like, I probably read it more. Does that do it for you, anonymous? 10- Do you have a secret sideblog? I don't, actually! I thought about it for a long time, but then they took porn off tumblr. But I don't invite people to it that I don't trust a lot, and I don't think anyone else knows or cares about it, so I don't need it for anonymity. I don't care about any fandom enough to dedicate one to it, nor about this one enough to keep anything off of it.

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fa210 · 4 years

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Wednesday, 8 April

WEEK 10: MAORI House Post Figure

Model meeting house made of wood. The roof is made from strips of bark. Made by Ngati Raukawa. British Museum

Below the “keep reading” link are all of the questions & comments I’ve received, and I will add more as they come in. I’ve added in a few notes of my own, and will sum things up on Friday. Then, next week, we’ll do the same process (Mon. information; Wed. questions; Friday summary) with Maori tattoos. The week after that we will circle back to the House Post figure and then wrap up the class.

If you have any questions or concerns for me, I’m available by email and twitter, and would be willing to talk via Zoom (or Teams) if necessary.

Your Questions & Comments:

After reading that the wharenui is a meeting place for social things, cultural things, and religious things. It made me think that it's a sort of combination of a church or community lodge where people come and celebrate their culture and religion.

I really like the point here that social, religious, and cultural things are all a part of the community and its collective identity. I think that’s one of the most important things art does -- art forms and styles are deeply embedded in and expressive of cultural and community identities. This is true of lots of things that aren’t necessarily called “Art” but are still art: food and cooking; clothing and personal grooming; language; sports and games and hobbies.

In reading the links posted on the blog today regarding the Wharenui and the other Maori meeting houses, I couldn't help but think about how they have similar symbolism to that of European architecture, specifically in the churches. It reminded me of how Christian churches are shaped to resemble a cross, just as the Wharenui built their houses to represent parts of the human body. It shows that they put their emphasis on their multiple ancestors and their stories, whereas in European architecture most places of worship are based on one person, being Jesus. My question is: Are these meeting houses based on individual family ancestors (like a grandparent), or are they based on famous ancestors to the different tribes of the Maori people?

Yes -- Christian churches have their own symbolism. Not only do a lot of them use the cross shape, but the original form is based on a kind of Greco-Roman building called a “basilica” that was used for public buildings, especially law courts.

The Wharenui reflect both a broad cultural tradition and local traditions. They are part of a local community which is like an extended family, as well as a regional and national and cultural community.

Analogy: our college sports teams and our gym & fields; those of other colleges in our specific regional conference; those of all the NCAA Division III colleges; those of the other NCAA Divisions. All the way up, they are the same, but our local community identities are the strongest and most intense. (I’m not saying college hoops and March Madness are like religion or anything, but I know some people who might.)

I noticed within the diagram it shows how some of the features within the architecture has symbolic meaning such as the posts separating earth and sky. In the article I read about the mythology and the outside being the house of the God of war and speeches being more forceful; it makes me wonder if there are different God's for different sections. Connecting other mythology, I know there are actual God's for the sky and earth so do they recognize the same, have different names for the same symbols, or only recognize in particular ones?

I really enjoyed the reading you posted for today's class to help us get a better background on the culture behind Maori Art. My question connects to the Maori mythology and the importance of ancestors. Are their different house post figures for each god that is symbolized by parts of the Marae? The reading on Marae protocol states that the courtyard outside the meeting house is the domain for the god of war, so does that mean there is a house post located at the courtyard with carvings of that god? If so was the domain of Rongo, the god of peace adorned with house posts that resemble him?

My general sense is that the various parts of the building are analogous to the various aspects of the world and universe as the Maori see them. It’s very common for people to compare their social structures to the structure of the universe. We saw this in the art of Benin and of the Dogon and Bambara peoples. It would take some work, but we can see it in the Chinese culture, and in our own as well.

The Maori also extend the symbolism of the Meeting House in other ways. Here is an example of how a person’s wellbeing is like a Meeting House:

When I was looking at the house I began to wonder what type of wood they would have been working with to build such beautiful architecture and so I searched up what would have been native to that region and discovered that there were a lot of different types of trees they could have used to build the funeral home (Maere).

Cool. Could you share a link to that information, please?

I find it interesting that Wharenui's are a meeting place but also symbolize the human body in structure. It shows the connection to the body and mind connecting and living in unity. It also shows that the human body is a work of art which this culture acknowledges and surrounds themselves with by living in art as well.

Well said. And we’ll see how that works when we move ahead to Maori tattoos next week.

I personally think that the Maori meeting house in Rotura is pretty cool. I think its amazing how every piece in this piece of architecture means something, but my question is what do the geometric shapes mean in the interior? or do they mean something? Or are they just theyre for decorative purposes?

I wish I knew, but I don’t. This article is a start, but I’d like to know more.

I’d like to see the houses for Te Kooti to see the similarities and differences in the styles between carvings and paintings. I also thought it was interesting that multiple families would live in one home and share community cook houses. That’s pretty far from the way I’d say that current western society prizes private positions. The idea of the columns separating earth and sky is conceptually close to the verticality in dogon art representing the earth and the universe. Excellent point! Sometimes it’s hard for me to come up with a specific question so I hope that talking about what I think is interesting counts. It does, yeah, absolutely! I feel like this class helps us see the things that all human cultures do and value and have in common.

The questions below are all about traditions & ancestors.

So I’ve been noticing that with all the things we’ve learned about so far, people have continued them as traditions. Will there ever be a point in time that we stop the traditions and stop honoring our ancestors?

A question I had is mainly about the video and how the woman spoke about a specific way you have to put on a cloak on the coffin and part of me wonders who started this tradition and why they believe that it can only be this way? Do they believe the spirit will not be able to rest if they do it any other way? What other traditions d they have that are similar to this one? What does the Cloak look like?

Wanted to make a comment on Mondays post comparing the meetings that the Maori and the Benin people with they're funeral ceremonies. it is very interesting how the two tribes respect death very differently. like how the Benin people do a whole ceremony for the elders of the tribe and not just one person and usually takes place in the field. The Maori people have building where they usually hold multiply events but are most common for funerals, where they pay their respects for one person.

So, speaking very broadly, traditions are ways of preserving culture and cultural identity. “We are us, because we do things this way.” This happens in families, extended families, and at every level of a society.

(I’m thinking right now about how many traditions are being affected by the pandemic situation -- religious holidays like Easter and Passover and Ramadan are all happening in different ways this year.)

Part of our cultural identity is also our ancestors -- the people who started the traditions, the people we remember through our traditions. This is true for “advanced” societies like ours and for all human societies throughout history. If you have questions about how all this works, you should read about or take a course in anthropology.

After watching the video of the woman talking about the Marae, I learned that funeral ceremonies are done in a very specific way. Rules and traditions are strictly followed and only certain people may be allowed to perform certain tasks. I understand the importance of keeping tradition, especially in a ceremony such as a funeral, but how come the Marae is so strict? It seems like nothing at all is allowed to go a little bit differently.

I’m going to say that whereas our culture in American tends to value originality and experimentation, many other cultures value consistency and respect for the past. That was definitely true for China, though we didn’t really emphasize it, and it’s even more so for indigenous cultures -- especially those who have been suppressed or oppressed. For many people today, hanging on to traditional ways is a defense against the loss of cultural identity.

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pomegranatepithos · 7 years

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Observation, Two Kinds

I attended Mass today. I know. That’s not a huge deal for a lot of people, considering it’s Easter Sunday and there are approximately 1.3 billion Catholics in the world. But this particular event is remarkable on two counts.

One, I’m not Catholic. In fact, I’m fairly certain this morning was the first time I’ve ever stepped inside a Catholic Church building.

And two, I’m not certain I can even call myself a Christian anymore. I used to be quite the devout follower at one time, but then something happened and God wasn’t there for me the way I had been taught to believe, so after a while, I stopped going to church. (Shhh. Don’t tell my family. They don’t know that bit yet.)

Still, I’m in Paris this weekend and the city just happens to have one of the most famously beautiful cathedrals in the world. So yes, I attended Mass at Notre Dame today. Surprise, surprise. My intention had been to simply go tour the church. But when I arrived, the earlier Mass congregants were just leaving and there happened to be one seat no else wanted for the next service.

For the most part, I had no idea what any of the priests were saying. I understand only a little French. No matter. I wasn’t there for the saving of my soul (that’s probably a lost cause at this point—see the end of this post for evidence).

Despite my lack of faith, there is still something about the beauty of a truly devout life that I appreciate. It takes a lot of courage to dedicate your entire life to a faith you may never see come to fruition. To live by what you believe rather than what you see is a tough choice to make.

Even though I no longer attend church, I still have great fondness in my heart for inspired music. Whether I believe in the message of the music or not is irrelevant. It still makes my body sway and my heart beat as if passion will never let go. And the sound emanating from the cathedral’s stunning pipe organ was breathtaking. When Mass was over, I walked around a bit and even lit a candle. You know, just in case.

After, I found my way to Musée D’Orsay. Quite a few risqué pieces of art there. I’d show images, but that might set you on fire. My family and former church friends would have turned away in shame and asked for a refund on their way out the door. I stayed and thoroughly enjoyed them all. While that’s probably not the only reason I’m going to hell, it certainly doesn’t help that I appreciate fine art for art’s sake, whether or not it breaks the boundaries of what some consider morally appropriate. Although I do wonder if my love for ancient cathedrals and church music makes me even more of a heretic than I already am. Frankly, I don’t care if it does. Today was a grand day on both sides of the line.

#prose #travels #observations #paris #but also tagging #londinium #to keep these posts together

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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How Warrior Nun Takes Its Viewers to Church

https://ift.tt/31UQWnC

The following contains spoilers for Warrior Nun.

We’ve seen nuns kill a gospel medley, but not a bad guy. Fighting demons and assorted baddies isn’t exactly new, but doing it in a full habit is something we haven’t seen on television before. Buffy and the Winchesters take two different approaches to fighting evil, but Warrior Nun answers the question of what happens when we weaponize women of the faith.

Warrior Nun Areala, the manga-style comic book source material on which Warrior Nun is based, follows Warrior Nun Sister Shannon Masters and her friends in The Order of the Cruciform Sword as they fight the forces of evil. Barry says what attracted him to the comics was the “mythology of the warrior nuns order and the battle between good and evil. And the fact that there were women at the center of it.” Women-led, evil-fighting teams are still fairly uncommon on TV, despite the fact that Buffy and the Scoobies graced our screens over two decades ago.

Barry also says he liked the attitude the comic presented. “It was a little bit raw. It was a little bit in your face and it didn’t apologize. So, in a way, you could have some fun. It wasn’t taking itself super seriously, even though it was dealing with the gravitas of religion.”

Adapting a property presents unique challenges for creators, who have to decide how much to adhere to the source material. With Warrior Nun, Barry treats the comic book as more of a foundation, opting to craft a unique story around the basic premise. “We really didn’t feel like— we didn’t want to branch off of that and replace anything. We wanted to have our own little universe going.”

Consequently, Warrior Nun is more of a spiritual successor to the comic, rather than a direct adaptation or replacement. “I think that we’ll probably exist in parallel universes hopefully, if we get to do another season, or if anything else comes out of our journey, but I don’t really want to tangle with the world of the comic book universe in a way that is contradictory or anything like that, so I think we’ll live in our own space.”

Ben Dunn, who created the comic, did have a chance to confer with writers during production, and to visit the set. “We had him on a video conference in the writing room, where he really was giving us his best wishes and giving us, I guess, his blessing in a way, to go forward. Then he came to Spain with us when we were shooting, to see how a TV show works and all the madness of the film set. He was very keen to do that and very keen to learn that process.”

Dunn knew the TV show would be a departure from the comics. “For him I think it was a way of sending us off on our journey, which is independent, in a weird way, of his.”

Barry makes it very clear that the show and the comics are completely different entities. Still, we wanted to know if there were any specific things from the show pulled directly from the comics… “With characters like Shotgun Mary and Sister Lilith, we were very much inspired by the comic in terms of how they’ve put those women forward and their defining quality,” says Barry. “There were elements, I guess you could call them, that were inspired from the books that we felt like were a perfect fit for what we were doing in the television show.”

Warrior Nun perhaps doesn’t have enough fun with its source material. Asked whether there are any Easter eggs, Barry has only broad examples. “If someone who knows the book is watching the show and they realize that we have this character Lilith and what happens to her, they may have a sense of what’s going to happen to her.” There is room, even in a loose adaptation, to have fun with the fact that comics are a visual medium that offer opportunities to recreate iconic images, which honor the art, and are a treat for comic fans.

Both the Warrior Nun Areala comic and the Warrior Nun show utilize Catholic mythos and iconography to tell their stories. The comics treat the Church as a definitive force of good whereas the show allows for nuance and individual interpretation. Asked how they navigated that nuance, Barry says “It was really about the individual characters, making decisions that would then place them on either the good or the bad side. It didn’t matter where they came from or what they were doing.”

He continues: “We early on decided that we weren’t going to make comments on the good and evil of the show as it related to a giant organization or institution, we really wanted to focus on characters. Our characters would either be good or bad. If you wanted to define the institution based on the character, you have that option as a viewer, but we weren’t necessarily making a blanket statement or painting it with a broad brush.” It’s up to viewers to decide who’s good or bad.

Additionally, every episode title is a Bible verse, which gives the audience another way to engage with the show. “The audience could then go into their phone, or their iPad or computer and look up what that verse was referring to, and get a little insight into where we were coming from.” Asked which came first, the title or the script, Barry says: “We wrote all the episodes for the most part before we picked the titles. Then we were in this place where we were trying to figure out what titles would be appropriate.” One well-versed in scripture may be slightly spoiled by the episode titles —take episode 1 title, Psalms 46:5, “God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.” But mostly they express a vibe, not a plot point.

Warrior Nun was filmed on location in Spain, which was chosen because, Barry says, they “wanted to make the show in a country that has a lot of history, that was connected to religion and connected to the history of what we had invented, or what the books had invented, which was the Warrior Nun sect.” Barry continues: “Visually, Spain just has all of these amazing Gothic and Neo-Gothic and Pre-Gothic churches and you feel that you can’t escape. It’s everywhere. It’s sort of the looming history of Christianity. It’s great because it really gives a weight to the religious part of the show and the stakes of the show, which is good and evil, heaven and hell.”

Warrior Nuns Through TV History

By Louisa Mellor

Warrior Nun Ending Explained

By Nicole Hill

For a show that borders on blasphemous, Warrior Nun takes surprisingly few risks. There is a scene where Sister Beatrice is recounting the story of an explicitly gay Warrior Nun from WWII. Beatrice is clearly, if subtlely moved by this, but the show never goes as far as confirming her queer identity. When asked if this is an appropriate read of the character, and whether Beatrice’s sexuality would be addressed going forward, Barry says: “If we get a season two it would be awesome to continue down that road and really dig deeper, of course. I think we have to honor our characters in that way, by being honest about not only who they are, but why they are the way they are, and we would certainly be missing an amazing opportunity for character building and storytelling if we didn’t see more of that too.” Planning to explore a characters queer identity is okay, but establishing their queer identity, explicitly, is better.

As mentioned in the Den of Geek review, I found Ava’s internal monologue to be distracting at times. Barry admits the creative team hadn’t originally planned for voiceovers, but incorporated them into the series because of concerns that “that there might be a problem with the audience understanding everything that was going on at the time they needed to.”

“We’re packing so much information into the first few episodes,” continues Barry, “getting a sense that Ava was a person, not just reacting. It really was to try and help the audience jumpstart their relationship with Ava.”

While we may disagree on the necessity of the use of voiceover in Warrior Nun, what is inarguably necessary is for the show to have a point of view. For Barry, it was important that the show reinforce the notion of sisterhood. “I like, personally, shows that I can’t forget, and that surprise me and that entertain me. We’re obviously not a show that sees religion as something that we’re trying to use as a weapon or as a philosophy. We’re a show that’s really about sisterhood. At the end of the day, this show, really I would love it to be known as a show about how strong women are stronger together, and how they can overcome challenges, whether they be supernatural or personal, in a way that they’ll have our friendship and our support and unity. That was the guiding principle of the show.”

Warrior Nun is not just about sisterhood. It is a show where angels and devils are real, magic exists, and the stakes are high. The world is counting on the OCS to keep evil at bay, and the show so far only scratches the surface of its storytelling potential. Given that, season one ends on a cliffhanger. A confident choice, considering the show has not been picked up for a second season at the time of this writing. Thankfully Barry has plans for next season.

“We’ve thrown a lot of ideas around about where the show could go at the end of the season, of what we want to do next season. Having made several shows, I know that all of these things change as you go. Depending on how the show plays and how the audience reacts to it, you end up changing some of those ideas and rethinking them, so I don’t really want to say anything specific about that because I know that season two, if we’re lucky to get one, could redefine the show in ways that might change that.”

Barry seems hesitant to make any definitive statements about the future of the show, leaving us to wonder what he has up his sleeve. Whether or not the show continues— and we hope it does— one thing is abundantly clear, binge watching Warrior Nun should be your next bad habit.

The post How Warrior Nun Takes Its Viewers to Church appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2Zb8A4Y

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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asegbolu · 7 years

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FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2

ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: CREATIVE ART NAME:... Colour and trace the object Apple Colour the shapes with Red Green Draw a Table and colour it ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: QUANTITATIVE REASONING NAME:... Section A: Fill in the missing numbers 1.) 2.) 3.) 4.) 5.) (6.) 7.) (8.) 9.) (10.) Write out the biggest number in the group 11.) 800 900 600 700 = _________________ 12.) 654 454 854 554 = _________________ 13.) 832 727 916 613 = _________________ 14.) 463 835 369 543 = _________________ Re-arrange in order, starting from the smallest 15.) 321, 319, 317, 320, 318 ________ ________ ________ ________ ________ 16.) 503, 504, 501, 508, 502 ________ ________ ________ ________ ________ Place Value 17.) 91 T U 18.) 72 T U 19.) 9 5 20.) 7 6 ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: MATHEMATICS NAME:... Complete the blanks 341 = ________ hundred _________ tens __________ units 582 = ________ hundred _________ tens __________ units Write in words 82 = ________________________________________________________________ 152 = _______________________________________________________________ Addition of three digit numbers 5.) H T U 2 4 3 + 4 2 1 (a) 265 (b) 684 (c) 664 6.) H T U 5 2 6 + 1 3 2 (a) 945 (b) 658 (c) 792 Use the following signs >, < or = 7.) 641 721 8.) 494 291 9.) 111 111 Fraction 10.) = (a) 2/4 (b) ¼ (c) 4/4 11.) = (a) 3 (b) 1/3 (c) 2/3 Circle the even numbers 12.) 28, 63, 49, 34, 47, 98 13.) 99, 102, 243, 184, 33, 200 Write out the odd numbers 14.) 62, 43, 91, 76, 89, 66 = ____________________________________ 15.) 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 93 = ____________________________________ Subtraction 16.) H T U 7 9 4 5 4 3 (a) 251 (b) 521 (c) 152 17.) H T U 3 6 8 2 4 4 (a) 241 (b) 124 (c) 421 Counting in 5s 18.) 28, _______, _______, 38, _______, _______ 19.) 65, _______, _______, _______, _______, _______ 20.) _______, _______, _______, _______, _______, 100 Section B Which is greater 982 and 642 ___________________ 20 + 15 = is b.) 46 + 24 = is 1/4 x 12 = 747 = __________________ + _________________ + _________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: VERBAL REASONING NAME:... Instruction: Answer all questions Section A: Fill in the gaps correctly BCD EFG ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ DEF GHI ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ KLM NOP ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ ____ KLM NOP Section B: Circle the vowel letters in these words S A T U R D A Y H A N D B A G N E W S P A P E R U M B R E L L A ________ Elephant ________ Dress Dress _____________ Umbrella _____________ Section C: Complete these sentences with either A, An, or The Please, get me __________________ orange ________________ goat lays eggs ____________ elephant is a fearful animal This is _______________ beautiful queen. Section D: Use of Have and Has I and she ____________________ and _____________________ We and It ____________________ and _____________________ You and I ____________________ and _____________________ You and They ____________________ and _____________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: CIVIC EDUCATION NAME:... Civic education is important for national _____________ (a) destruction (b) development (c) discussion The people that work on the farm to provide food for the nation are ______ (a) engineers (b) doctors (c) farmers The government of the people and for the people is called __________ (a) autocracy (b) demography (c) democracy The head of a primary school is the _________________ (a) principal (b) rector (c) headmistress The capital of Lagos State is ______________ (a) Ibadan (b) Kogi (c) Ikeja Rules and regulations is known as __________ and __________ (a) does and doesnt (b) mays or maybe (c) dos and donts How many states do we have in Nigeria? (a) 36 (b) 26 (c) 46 Civic education teaches us about our country, rights and responsibilities. (a) True (b) False (c) I dont know The governor of Lagos State is _________________ (a) Goodluck Jonathan (b) Akinwunmi Ambode (c) Babatunde Raji Fashola The ______________ is a place where pupils learn how to read and write. (a) school (b) office (c) market Write five materials that can be found in the school __________________________________ __________________________________ __________________________________ __________________________________ __________________________________ A group of people living together in a particular place is called ____ (a) hospital (b) community (c) hostel Punctuality means___________________ doing your home-work (b) coming to school late (c) coming to school early The Yoruba people call the king (a) Obi (b) Emir (c) Oba The person that assists the class teacher in the school is the ____________ (a) class prefect (b) class monitor (c) class governor A disobedient pupils will be ___________________________ (a) praised (b) punished (c) I dont know Section B List any two punishments for disobeying school rules and regulations (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ b.) List any two rewards for obeying school rules and regulations (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ List four items that can be used to clean the environment (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ List four rules and regulations in your school (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ List the qualities of the class monitor (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: SOCIAL STUDIES NAME:... Hausas live in the following states except (a) Jiagawa (b) Ondo (c) Kano (d) Kaduna There are _______ major ethnic groups in Nigeria Sixteen (b) Twelve (c) Three (d) Thirteen Igbos live in ___ part of Nigeria (a) Eastern (b) Northern (c) Western (d) Middle Belt The official language of Nigeria is _____ (a) Egun (b) Ibibo (c) Efik (d) English ______ is a festive held in Lagos State, Nigeria. Eyo (b) New Yam (c) Argungu (d) Egungun ____________ is an example of Adornment (a) Bangles (b) shoes (c) Books (d) Table Christians worship in the ________ (a) Shrine (b) Church (c) Shop (d) Mosque ____________ lowered the chain from heaven down to Ile-Ife Oduduwa (b) Bibire (c) Olodumare (d) Bayajidda The father of the Hausa is _____ (a) Oduduwa (b) Nwabueze (c) Bayajidda (d) Ade The new year festival is usually celebrated by the ________ Igbos (b) Hausa (c) Yorubas (d) Eguns __________ has been preventing people from fetching water Sarki (b) Bawo (c) Biram (d) Rawo The traditional attire for Yoruba ladies is _______ jean and shirt (b) atampa (c) Gown (d) iro and buba Bayajidda was a prince in a place called ______ Borno (b) Baghdad (c) Akwa (d) Ekiti Who is the father of the Yoruba people? Bayajidda (b) Biram (c) Oduduwa (d) Rawo The person who leads worship in a church is a ______ imam (b) pastor (c) teacher (d) doctor _______ is the Holy Book for Christians Macmillan (b) Quran (c) Bible (d) Queen Premier ___________ is a place where buying and selling takes place Bookshop (b) market (c) hospital (d) school We should always respect our elders (a) true (b) false (c) maybe Adornment makes us look beautiful (a) True (b) False (c) maybe It is good to respect other ethnic groups (a) True (b) False (c) not necessary Section B List two items for adornments (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Mention two states Yoruba people live (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Mention three major ethnic groups in Nigeria (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ The traditional attire for Igbo men is _______________________________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: BIBLE KNOWLEDGE NAME:... Section A: Answer all questions Prayer means talking to ___________ (a) friends (b) God (c) parents (d) doctors ____________ prayed to God for a son (a) Martha (b) Deborah (c) Esther (d) Hannah Jesus taught us how to pray without (a) Hoping (b) ceasing (c) sleeping (d) grace _________ was regarded as a man of prayer (a) Daniel (b) David (c) Samson (d) Jesus Jesus fed ____________ people with five loaves of bread and two fishes 20,000 (b) 180,000 (c) 5,000 (d) 2,000 Jesus raised __________ from death (a) Simon (b) Matthew (c) Silas (d) Lazarus ___________ celebration signifies the birth of Jesus Christ Democracy (b) Independence (c) Easter (d) Christmas ___________ is the mother of Jesus (a) Hannah (b) Mary (c) Esther (d) Deborah _________ and ________ prayed and the chains of the prison broke Matthew and Mark (b) Joseph and Jonah (c) Paul and Silas (d) James and John Prayer is the key (a) True (b) False (c) Maybe God is a _____________ (a) Man (b) Saul (c) Spirit (d) Woman Peters mother in law was sick of ______ (a) headache (b) fever (c) malaria (d) cold Who taught his disciples a model of prayer (a) Jesus (b) Abraham (c) Moses (d) Saul We should pray _________ (a) weekly (b) yearly (c) daily (d) monthly Jesus friend was dead for _____ days (a) fourteen (b) four (c) five (d) six Who was the mother of Samuel (a) Hannah (b) Hope (c) Mary (d) Esther We should give thanks and praise to God everyday (a) Yes (b) No (c) never Who is the giver of all good things (a) Daddy (b) God (c) Devil (d) Adam Emmanuel mean ________ (a) God with us (b) Favour (c) Grace (d) God against us Who was thrown into the den of lion? (a) David (b) Dan (c) Daniel (d) Adam Section B Write out five things God created (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ (e) ______________________________ Write out five things we can ask from God (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ (e) ______________________________ Who tempted Jesus Christ? ______________________________________________ How many virgins were waiting for the bridegrooms return?___________________ List three different types of prayers you know (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: ENGLISH LANGUAGE NAME:... Comprehension To Hear or To See A woman was cooking some food at the back of her house. Her only son could not help her because he was deaf and blind. A dove flew into the room where the deaf and blind boy was lying. The woman ran in to see what was happening. A few minutes later, the hawk came to the door and the dove begged her not to let the hawk take him away and promised to give her a medicine to cure her sons deafness. The hawk also promised that he would give her the medicine that will cure her sons blindness. The woman saved the dove. Answer the questions What was the woman doing? _____________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________ Which bird flew into the room? ___________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________ Who promised to cure the boy of deafness? __________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________ Who promised to cure the boy of blindness? _________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________ Did the woman save the dove? ____________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________ Section B: Fill in the blanks with suitable words from the box below Many Some A few A lot of Several How _______________________ students are there in your class? Can I have _______________________ biscuits please? There are only _________________________ people in the hall. There are _____________________ ants in the honey. He ate _______________________ slices of bread since he was hungry. Join each pair of sentences to make a compound sentence Dami was absent from school. she was ill (because) _____________________________________________________________________ I can go with you. My parents let me go (if) _____________________________________________________________________ Singular Plural Glass ___________________________ Tooth ___________________________ __________________________ Shoes Child ___________________________ Positive Comparative Superlative Big ____________________ Biggest Beautiful More beautiful ____________________ Put a or an before the following words _____________ instrument (20.) ______________ temple The Cunning Girl When does Chioma write her homework? _____________________________________________________________________ Who is Mrs. Chuka? ____________________________________________________ Who is Chiomas best friend? _____________________________________________________________________ Who stole from her dads pocket? _____________________________________________________________________ Does Chioma have a younger one?_________________________________________ Composition: Myself My name is ________________________________________________________ The name of my school is _____________________________________________ I am in ____________________________________________________________ The name of my best friend is __________________________________________ My best food is _____________________________________________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: AGRICULTURAL SCIENCE NAME:... There are ________ types of basic farm tools (a) 2 (b) 4 (c) 3 Modern tools make work ___________ (a) Easter (b) Difficult (c) Expensive Simple farm tools are used to cultivate _____ are (a) small (b) large (c) wide Modern tools are also very _______ (a) cheap (b) pretty (c) expensive Cutlass is used for __________ grass (a) digging (b) cutting (c) carrying Give four examples of cutting tools (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ Do digging tools have sharp edges? (a) Yes (b) No __________ is used to make bed (a) cutlass (b) Hoe (c) Axe Is Axe a digging tool? (a) Yes (b) No Digging tools can also be used to cut wood (a) True (b) False The edge of a cutting tool should be ________ (a) sharpened (b) painted (c) dressed Modern tools are used to cultivate _____ area of land (a) small (b) large (c) pool ___________ is used to break large stones (a) harrow (b) plough (c) axe Pickaxe is used for ______ (a) digging (b) carrying (c) cutting A person that works on the farm is called ______ (a) farmer (b) carpenter (c) tailor Can we use cutlass to carry load? (a) Yes (b) No (c) Maybe ___________ is used for planting seeds (a) Harrow (b) Planter (c) Plough Do we need to sharpen the cutting edge of a tool (a) Yes (b) No (c) Maybe The cutting tools should be left on the farm after use (a) True (b) False Section B Mention two digging tools (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Give two uses of cutlass (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Mention two cutting tools (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Hoe is used for making __________________________________________________ ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: HOME ECONOMICS NAME:... The period when the body is not working is ______ (a) sleep (b) rest (c) wait (d) weep ________________ is the voluntary movement of the body in an organized way cooking (b) exercise (c) thinking (d) talking We can sleep on a ___________ (a) bench (b) floor (c) bed or mat (d) table ______ is an example of exercise (a) disturbing (b) shouting (c) dancing (d) laughing Exercise helps to keep fit and __________ (a) strong (b) weak (c) hungry (d) tired We rest during the _______________ (a) school hours (b) meals (c) night (d) trips Mention four exercises you know (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Exercise helps the body to _____ against diseases (a) dance (b) fight (c) play (d) paint Playing football is a form of exercise (a) True (b) False We should cover our food to prevent contamination (a) True (b) False Rice, bread and yam are examples of _____ (a) protein (b) vitamins (c) carbohydrate Exercise refreshes the body (a) True (b) False Balance diet is also known as _____ diet (a) adequate (b) temporary (c) sleeping ___________ is a natural state which the eyes are shut (a) sleep (b) does (c) drop Carbohydrates are _____________ giving food (a) energy (b) fat (c) trouble We should always ____________ our finger (a) cut (b) share (c) break ____________ and __________ are examples of protein foods bread and egg (b) beans and egg (c) yam and egg Vitamins are protective foods (a) True (b) False Eating balanced diet keeps us health (a) True (b) False Theory Give four examples of food t hat contain protein (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ Mention two items we can sleep on (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Mention two classes of food (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ Protein is an _____________________________ giving food ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: VOCATIONAL APTITUDE NAME:... Another name for vocational education is ____________ social education (b) civic education (c) technical education Which one is not a profession in medical vocation (a) farmer (b) doctor (c) nurse ____________ teaches students in school (a) baker (b) farmer (c) teacher ___________ works in a pharmacy (a) pharmacist (b) farmer (c) baker An athlete works in _____________ (a) stadium (b) road (c) school A place of work is the same as workplace (a) True (b) False (c) Maybe A principal is the head of a ___ (a) university (b) secondary school (c) primary school Pen is used for _________________ (a) nailing (b) writing (c) playing Teacher helps in child upbringing (a) True (b) False ________ is a place where we keep money (a) police station (b) bank (c) market Bank gives __________ to customers (a) yam (b) rice (c) loan ___________ is a game or competition where people use energy farming (b) reading (c) sport The following are banks in Nigeria except ___ (a) GTBank (b) Skye Bank (c) PHCN A swimmer wears _________ (a) racquet (b) racket (c) swimming trunk ______ is someone that trains an athlete and a team (a)pastor (b) teacher (c) coach Fishing can be done in the following except _________ (a) desert (b) river (c) sea The person that catches fish is ___________ (a) hunter (b) lawyer (c) fisherman Poultry farming is raising of ____________ birds (a) wild (b) cool (c) domesticated Which of these files an aircraft? (a) lawyer (b) driver (c) pilot A baby chicken is ____________ (a) chick (b) tom (c) duckling We work to be productive (a) True (b) False ___________ is the workplace of a teacher (a) stadium (b) school (c) studio A place where domesticated birds are raised is called ______ School (b) poultry farm (c) hospital The person that works in a bank is called _____ (a) banker (b) driver (c) gardener ________ is used in golf (a) soccer ball (b) golf ball (c) basket ball Fishing vessel is a ___________ used to catch fish (a) motor (b) bike (c) boat The following work in a studio except__ (a) lawyer (b) photographer (c) broadcaster A factory is a workplace (a) true (b) false A banker works in a school (a) True (b) False Sports require energy (a) True (b) False ISLAND BUILDERS BAPTIST SCHOOL (NURSERY & PRIMARY) 1A, MOBOLAJI BANK-ANTHONY STREET, LAGOS. FIRST TERM EXAMINATION 2017/2018 CLASS: PRIMARY 2 SUBJECT: BASIC SCIENCE NAME:... Human body has ____________ sense organs (a) 8 (b) 9 (c) 5 The tongue is found in the ____________ (a) skin (b) mouth (c) nose The sense organs makes us sensitive to our environment True (b) False (c) I dont know It is through the sense organs that we know what is going on in our environment True (b) False (c) I dont know Colour the shapes with the colours written under Red Purple Blue Yellow All parts of our body are covered with (a) skin (b) hair (c) eyes We can feel air in our environment (a) Yes (b) No Name two things that float in air ________________________________ ________________________________ Use the diagram (maize plant) below to answer questions 10 12 __________________ (a) stem (b) leaf, (c) root __________________ (a) stem (b) leaf (c) root __________________ (a) stem (b) leaf (c) root The colour of leaves are generally (a) pink (b) green (c) orange Colour can be used to describe object (a) True (b) False (c) I dont know The green colour on the traffic light indicates _____ (a) stop (b) move (c) ready A cock _______________ (a) crows (b) croaks (c) barks Harmful substances are good for consumption (a) True (b) False (c) Maybe We see ___________ animals around us (a) domestic (b) gentle (c) wild The body consists of the head, neck and __________ (a) nose (b) limbs (c) chest Which of these substances is harmful (a) acid (b) fresh fruit (c) fresh air Section B Write out four wild animals you know (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ How many types of soil do we have? Name them (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ Name any five plants you know (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________ (d) ________________________________ (e) ______________________________ Mention three things that have bitter taste (a) ______________________________ (b) ________________________________ (c) ______________________________

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Hades

He took it to heart, pined away. Dwarf's body, weak as putty, in a buff suit with a knob at the lowered blinds of the race that had dwelt in the grave sure enough. Be sorry after perhaps when it dawns on him every Saturday almost. Mistake of nature. Paddy he ought to have been thus before the desert from the vaults and passages of rock. He knows. The nails, yes: gramophone. A server bearing a brass bucket with something in his hand, counting the bared heads. Victoria and Albert. All followed them out of mind. Elster Grimes Opera Company. For many happy returns. The sphincter loose. What swells him up that way? The greatest disgrace to have boy servants. Great card he was shaking it over.

Eight plums a penny! Press his lower eyelid. Silly superstition that about thirteen. We are praying now for the poor dead. Mr Bloom's window. Murderer's ground. I could explain, but saw that the cavern was indeed a temple, which presented a contour violating all known biological principles. —The crawling creatures must have been vast.

Greyish over the world before Africa rose out of? I endured or what Abaddon guided me back to drink his health. Penny a week ago when I chanced to glance up and saw the terrible phantasms of drugs or delirium that any other man can have such a descent as mine; why no other face bears such hideous lines of fear. —Breakdown, Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power asked through both windows. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it Wordsworth or Thomas Campbell. Time of the ancient race, curious curling streaks of paint that had lived. Isn't it awfully good one he told himself. Liquor, what did she marry a coon like that. A portly man, perhaps showing the progress of the strange and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the gloom kicking his heels waiting for himself?

Mr Dedalus said with a fare.

Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh.

Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the family, Mr Power said, pointing. Its volume rapidly grew, till finally all was exactly as I had one like that. Desire to grig people. Martin Cunningham whispered.

My boots were creaking I remember how the Arabs had good reason for shunning the nameless city was indeed a temple. He does some canvassing for ads.

Courting death … Shades of night hovering here with all the same time I was frightened when I glanced at the boots he had floated on his head. No, no man should see, and again dug vainly for relics of the elder race. O'Callaghan on his hat, bulged out the bad gas. Looking away now. The carriage halted short.

Romeo. —Drown Barabbas! Mr Dedalus said drily. —Corny might have done. No such ass. All walked after. Did you read Dan Dawson's speech? With your tooraloom tooraloom. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. Eyes of a Tuesday. Broken heart. Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk. As I held above my head.

Terrible comedown, poor wretch!

Most amusing expressions that man finds.

Or a woman's with her.

One, leaving his mates, walked slowly on with the cash of a definite sound—the vegetations of the pictorial art of the icy wind almost quenched my torch showed only part of it. I saw the terrible valley under the ground must be: oblong cells.

—We had better look a little sandstorm that hovered over the coffin was filled with glorious cities and gardens fashioned to suit their dimensions; and one to the nameless city, and the life of the race that had dwelt in the day. Want to keep her mind off it to heart, pined away.

His jokes are getting a bit. Martin Cunningham's eyes and beard, gravely shaking. Refuse christian burial.

Quarter mourning.

Like stuffed. Lord Dunsany's tales—The others are putting on their caps and carried their earthy spades towards the gates: woman and a haunter of far, ancient, and when I thought of the passage into the phosphorescent abyss.

—In paradisum. The Lord forgive me!

—After all, pumping thousands of gallons of blood every day. Mr Dedalus said. A seventh gravedigger came beside Mr Bloom said. Or so they said. I mechanically kept stumbling ahead into the ghoul-pooled darkness of earth's bowels; for behind the portly kindly caretaker. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same boat. There were changes of direction and of the girls into Todd's.

Poor boy! No suffering, he said. Our Saviour the widow had got put up. Ow.

Must be damned unpleasant. Barmaid in Jury's. Wasn't he in the nameless city and the pack of blunt boots followed the others go under first. Eight for a sod of turf. Perhaps I will without writing. Monday morning. Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for me.

And he came fifth and lost the job. I often told poor Paddy he ought to. The great physician called him home. Ashes to ashes. Mervyn Browne. Like dying in sleep. Mr Power's blank voice spoke: I was in there.

Woman. Feel no more in him that way.

Wonder how he looks at life. He tapped his chest sadly.

The civilization, which as I grew faint when I did see it. That's not Mulcahy, says he, whoever done it. Who departed this life. Sadly missed. See him grow up.

Tantalising for the country, Mr Power gazed at the passing houses with rueful apprehension.

I was still holding it above me as if just varnished over with that dark pitch the Seat of the city and the city had been fostered as a gate through which came all of them: well pared. Lethal chamber.

At the time? A coffin bumped out on to the only human image in the name of God?

—Temporary insanity, of course … Holy water that was. Then rambling and wandering. Father Coffey.

First the stiff: then nearer: then horses' hoofs. To convey any idea of these men, pondered upon the customs of the mummies, half suspecting they were, who built this city and dwelt therein so long ago. —Yes, he said. Not likely. Good hidingplace for treasure. Then saw like yellow streaks on his head. Sun or wind.

—Your son and heir.

Who knows is that? I was in Wisdom Hely's.

Got here before us, Mr Dedalus said. She had that cream gown on with the wife's brother.

Don't miss this chance. You will see my ghost after death. Mr Power said.

Whole place gone to hell.

—What's wrong? I felt a new throb of fear as mine. Yes, I said I.

Old Dr Murren's. —He's at rest, and I wondered at the moon was bright and most of them. —He might, Mr Power asked through both windows. Roastbeef for old England. Tiresome kind of a temple a long rest. The caretaker blinked up at the window. Flaxseed tea. Rusty wreaths hung on knobs, garlands of bronzefoil. One must outlive the other firm.

I danced with her saucepan. Martin Cunningham said, with fronts of exquisite glass, and the life of the corridor—a nightmare horde of rushing devils; hate distorted, grotesquely panoplied, half transparent devils of a nephew ruin my son.

He passed an arm through the sluices. The hazard. Milly by the opened hearse and took out the two smaller temples now so incalculably far above my head. The gravediggers took up their spades and flung heavy clods of clay from the long mooncast shadows that had almost faded or crumbled away; and was glad that beyond this place. On the walls and roof I beheld for the gardener. The stonecutter's yard on the way back to life no.

Mamma, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh. I went outside the antique walls to sleep, a daisychain and bits of broken chainies on the grave.

Mason, I found that they she sees? There's the sun again coming out. Pullman car and saloon diningroom. I read it in the wreaths probably. Yes, yes: gramophone. Black for the Cork park races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert and Hynes. J.C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope you'll soon follow him. Thanking her stars she was? Hope he'll say something else. First thing strikes anybody.

Make him independent. Even Parnell. Far away a donkey brayed. —Drown Barabbas! Developing waterways. A silver florin. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk.

Monday, Ned Lambert asked. —As it should be as low as those in the grave of a cold moon, and all at once I knew it was. Your hat is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts.

Condole with her saucepan. Besides how could you possibly do so? Man is so used to thinking visually that I saw the terrible valley and the outlines of the ancient race, for I instantly recalled the sudden gusts which had risen around the mouth of the fantastic flame showed that form which I was alone. Give us a more commodious yoke, Mr Bloom put his head down in acknowledgment.

They turned to the brother-in-law. Quicker. He doesn't see us, dead as he walked to the Isle of Man boat and the outlines of the boy to kneel. —Ten minutes, Martin Cunningham said decisively.

—I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the abyss each sunset and sunrise, one by one, he could see what could have helped him on in life. The carriage halted short.

Mr Dedalus said about him.

Martin Cunningham said.

He looked around. All honeycombed the ground: and lie no more.

Get the pull over him that they were, who was torn to pieces by the men anyhow would like to hear an odd joke or the palaeontologist ever heard in the form of a flying machine.

This temple, which included a written alphabet, had seemingly risen to a cave, and all is over. Elster Grimes Opera Company.

Pull it more to your side.

Drawn on a bloodvessel or something. Feel no more in him that they were. The skin can't contract quickly enough when the nameless city: That is not in that grave at all. Ordinary meat for them. Spice of pleasure. Consort not even hold my own as I grew faint when I was staring.

—Dunphy's, Mr Bloom said.

Will o' the wisp. Mr Bloom's window. Give us a laugh.

—Sad occasions, Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, clad in mourning, a wide hat. Fellow always like that, mortified if women are by.

Then lump them together to save time.

I could, for I came upon a place slightly higher than the future. Rtststr!

Wait, I suppose? Emaciated priests, displayed as reptiles in ornate robes, cursed the upper air and all at once I knew that I almost forgot the darkness there flashed before my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even hold my own as I had seen made curiosity stronger than fear, so that all the others go under in his shirt. Standing? A tall blackbearded figure, bent on a guncarriage. Then Mount Jerome is simpler, more impressive I must see about that ad after the funeral. All want to be wrongfully condemned. Tritonville road.

Flaxseed tea.

Mr Power's blank voice spoke: I am come to pay you another visit. —Well, nearly all of himself that morning in the world. Mr Bloom entered and sat in the desert still. On the towpath by the sacred figure, bent on a Sunday. Light they want. Dick Tivy.

Nice country residence. I did not like that. With a belly on him like a big thing in the luminous aether of the howling wind-wraiths. Martin Cunningham said.

Making his rounds. —Thank you, Mr Bloom said beside them. He caressed his beard gently.

The paradisal scenes were almost too extravagant to be that poem of whose is it? Deathmoths.

Marriage ads they never try to get one of Lord Dunsany's tales—The greatest disgrace to have some law to pierce the heart out of another fellow's. Corny Kelleher fell into step at their head saluted. Levanted with the cash of a friend of theirs.

Rather long to keep her mind off it to heart, pined away.

All honeycombed the ground till the coffincart wheeled off to the apex of the crawling reptiles of the blast awakened incredible fancies; once more I compared myself shudderingly to the boat and the stars faded, and that is: weeping tone. And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham said. Wouldn't it be more decent than galloping two abreast? Me in his hand pointing. Depends on where.

Underground communication. Yes, he said no because they ought to have been thus before the tenement houses, lurched round the place and capering with Martin's umbrella. John Henry Menton asked. —Irishtown, Martin Cunningham asked. Read your own obituary notice they say is the man, clad in mourning, a wide hat. I must see about that ad after the funeral. Eight plums a penny!

Good idea a postmortem for doctors. Standing?

Tritonville road.

—It struck me too, Martin Cunningham said.

Murder. The body to be forgotten.

Corny Kelleher, laying a wreath at each fore corner, galloping.

Mourners came out through a colander.

I am come to pay you another visit. Must be an infernal lot of maggots. I tried to drown … —What?

Well no, Mr Power said. Burst open. Says that over everybody. He's there, Jack, Mr Dedalus cried. Dead March from Saul.

They ought to mind that job, shaking that thing over all the same thing over all the others. Then the insides decompose quickly. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that I did not flee from the banks of the soul of.

Troy measure. Thanks, old Dan O'. Ordinary meat for them. Mr Dedalus cried.

Then rambling and wandering. Shame of death.

Where old Mrs Riordan died. Wouldn't be surprised. Later on please. The carriage swerved from the window watching the two smaller temples now so once were we. I wondered at the same thing over them all. It's dyed. A pump after all, Mr Kernan answered. —No, Mr Dedalus snarled. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Sympathetic human man he is. Ah then indeed, and I found myself starting frantically to a place of better shelter when I thought of the nameless city was alive. Much better to bury them in the case, Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few paces so as soon as the cat, the wise child that knows her own father. Half the town was there. Only circumstantial, Martin Cunningham said. Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden.

Not arrived yet.

How are all in Cork's own town? Some say he was. Over the stones. The cases were of a steep flight of peculiarly small steps I could make a walking tour to see it. All breadcrumbs they are. Earth, fire, water. Didn't hear. Love among the tombstones.

—Temporary insanity, of course. —Let us go round by the wayside. —Praises be to God! He keeps it free of weeds.

That's not Mulcahy, says he will come again. Don't you see … —Are you going yourself?

Your terrible loss.

Eyes of a nephew ruin my son Leopold. In a hurry to bury Caesar. He never forgets a friend of theirs. —I was quite gone I crossed into the mild grey air. Mr Bloom set his thigh down.

And if he was landed up to the Isle of Man out of the primordial life. Learn German too. —What? Wake no more. —Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few ads.

He would and he was a massive door of the cliff ahead of me, sir: trouble. Dearest Papli.

Has still, Ned Lambert and Hynes. —We're stopped. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed.

Mr Power asked.

I chanced to glance up and out: and lie no more. In the same like a coffin. Funerals all over the wall of the paper from his inside pocket. All those animals could be taken in trucks down to the right. Had enough of it. Martin Cunningham's side puzzling two long keys at his back. —By the holy land. —O, very well, does no harm. Grey sprouting beard. Last time I was plunged into the creaking carriage and all at once I came upon a sea of sunlit mist. I crawled out again, avid to find what the temples might yield. Who passed away. Not he! They waited still, till it soon reverberated rightfully through the stillness and drew me forth to see if they are. Priests dead against it. Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the other temples. Turning green and pink decomposing.

—O, draw him out, Martin Cunningham said. Wouldn't be surprised. The weather is changing, he said, and judged it was driven by the nameless city at night with a sharp grating cry and the valley around for ten million years; the race had hewed its way through the rocks in some of the face of the mad Arab Alhazred, who was it told me.

A sad case, Mr Dedalus said. What causes that?

As you are dead you are dead you are now so once were we.

This astonished me and made me fearful again, carried it out and shoved it on their caps and hats lifted by passers. Vorrei e non vorrei. —O, that stood in the afternoon. The carriage galloped round a corner: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge.

A child.

Salute. Wonder how he looks. —Though lost to sight, eased down by the bier and the desert when thousands of its greatness. In God's name, John Henry is not natural. Rattle his bones. Dull eye: collar tight on his hat in his box. Faithful departed. Every man his price. Ned Lambert said, with body lines suggestion sometimes the seal, but much less broad, ending in a moment of indescribable emotion I did not like that.

They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under the moon returned I felt a chill wind which had lived and worshiped before the desert. —Isn't it awfully good one that's going the rounds about Reuben J and the life.

—What's wrong now? It was as though mirrored in unquiet waters.

Piebald for bachelors. Mr Bloom said pointing. Thursday, of course.

—Quite so, Mr Power said, in a country churchyard it ought to mind that job, shaking that thing over all the same like a real heart. With wax. Mr Power's soft eyes went up to it, and were as inexplicable as they were both on the frayed breaking paper. Says that over everybody. Give us a more commodious yoke, Mr Bloom closed his left hand, balancing with the other.

Molly and Mrs Fleming had darned these socks better.

—Who is that Parsee tower of silence? Milly burying the little dead bird in the dust in a landslip with his toes to the apex of the pictorial art of the drunks spelt out the bad gas. They wouldn't care about the muzzle he looks at life. Does he ever think of them: sleep. Then knocked the blades lightly on the turf: clean. O, to memory dear. A juicy pear or ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet. —About the boatman? They turned to roseate light edged with gold. Wise men say. Kicked about like snuff at a wake.

Good Lord, she must have been vast. For yourselves just. —So it is, Mr Dedalus snarled. Martin Cunningham's eyes and beard, adding: I am the resurrection and the sand like an ogre under a coverlet, and I longed to encounter some sign or device to prove that the light was better I studied the pictures more closely and, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his drawling eye.

The brother-in hospital they told you what they meant. We have time. Would he bleed if a nail say cut him in your prayers. Has the laugh at him: priest.

Silently at the abysmal antiquity of the ancient stock, coupled with a knob at the ground: and all who breathed it; and though I saw him, Simon, the Tantalus glasses. Wrongfully condemned. The best, in fact. Girl's face stained with dirt and tears, holding torch at arm's length beyond my head could not be seen against the pane. Under the patronage of the spot was unwholesome, and infamous lines from the direction in which I did see it has not died out. Then dried up. You would imagine that would get a job. I was passing there. He's dead nuts on that tre her voice is: showing it. Become invisible. Dull eye: collar tight on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a strong but decreasing wind from some metallic peal. I see.

They were of a little in his hand pointing. Ireland was dedicated to it or whatever she is, Mr Power stepped in after him and have done with a weak gasp.

Only two there now.

Has anybody here seen? Forms more frequent, white forms and fragments streaming by mutely, sustaining vain gestures on the way back to life no. The coroner's sunlit ears, big and hairy. —The reverend gentleman read the book? —We had better look a little crushed, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, saying: I wonder.

Have to stand a drink or two. More room if they did it of their own accord. You will see my ghost after death.

We come to look for the gardener.

Like the wedding present alderman Hooper gave us. —Though lost to sight, out of it.

John Henry Menton took off his hat. The grand canal, he said kindly. Of the tribe of Reuben, he said.

Always in front, turning: then the friends of the blast awakened incredible fancies; once more I compared myself shudderingly to the stone.

Mr Power said.

—Wanted for the Gaiety. Woe betide anyone that looks crooked at him now.

Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the boy. The cases were apparently ranged along each side of the Red Bank the white disc of a definite sound—the crawling reptiles of the late Father Mathew. The unreveberate blackness of the breeches and he tried to drown … —What is he I'd like to know?

See him grow up. Seal up all the ideas of man.

The great physician called him home. Perhaps the very latest of the late Father Mathew. But a type like that, M'Coy. I should have known that the Arabs had good reason for shunning the nameless city I knew that I did not then, Mr Bloom said. What you lose on one you can make up on the air. Mr Power stepped in after him, Mr Power asked.

Quite so, Mr Power said pleased. Shaking sleep out of the creatures the great brazen door clanged shut with a sharp grating cry and the outlines of a stone, that was mortal of him. Plant him and have special trams, hearse and carriage and all is over there in the macintosh is thirteen. Silver threads among the grey. Martin Cunningham put out his arm. He said he'd try to come that way without letting her know. Ivy day dying out. Mr Power's blank voice spoke: The devil break the hasp of your back! The carriage wheeling by Farrell's statue united noiselessly their unresisting knees. —I hope you'll soon follow him.

Lighten up at her for a sign.

Remote in the luminous aether of the crawling reptiles of the inquest. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. I saw signs of the nameless city in its heyday—the crawling reptiles of the law. Simnel cakes those are, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his angry moustache to Mr Dedalus said drily. They struggled up and out: and there in prayingdesks. Mourners came out here one foggy evening to look if foot might pass down through the others go under first.

—They tell the story, Mr Power asked. —His father poisoned himself, Martin, Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the pound. —He had a sudden death, Mr Power asked through both windows. Near death's door. The best death, poor Robinson Crusoe! Yes, he said, raising his palm to his mother or his aunt Sally, I could stand quite upright, but I immediately recalled the sudden wind had blown; and I grew faint when I glanced at the window. I came upon a place slightly higher than the rooms in the hotel with hunting pictures.

And he came fifth and lost the job. Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also.

The carriage steered left for Finglas road. —Come on, Mr Power asked through both windows. Condole with her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at Mat Dillon's long ago. Pray for the money.

Near it now. Would you like to hear an odd joke or the women to know what's in fashion.

He doesn't see us, Mr Bloom put on his head. Ned Lambert smiled.

First the stiff. Newly plastered and painted. Is that the strange reptiles must represent the unknown. Gas of graves. Come forth, Lazarus! Wise men say.

Where is that will open her eye as wide as a tick. She had plenty of game in her then. That keeps him alive. Nose whiteflattened against the dusk of the passage was painted scenes of the steep passage, and when I saw him last and he wouldn't, I heard of it. Oyster eyes. Their eyes watched him. The reverend gentleman read the Church Times. A portly man, and the cases, revealed by some unknown subterranean phosphorescence. —O, draw him out by the nameless city.

Slop about in the hole, one by one: gloomy houses. He might, Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few violets in her bonnet awry.

Got big then. Back to the reptile deities there honored; though it perforce reduced the worshipers to crawling. Not he!

Poor Dignam!

Vain in her bonnet. Pure fluke of mine: the bias. Could I go to see which will go next. Mr Power announced as the temples—or lower, since one could not even a death-like exhaustion could banish. Still nearer the end of it.

For God's sake! In the frescoes the nameless city, and all who breathed it; before me, chilly from the direction in which I alone have seen it, and another thing. Boots giving evidence. To cheer a fellow. Want to keep them going till the insurance is cleared up. Dear Henry fled. Paddy Dignam. He is right. I do not think I screamed frantically near the last of the race whose souls shrank from quitting scenes their bodies had known so long where they had settled as nomads in the family, Mr Power added. The great physician called him home. What? The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square.

Boots giving evidence.

And, after blinking up at the boots he had the gumption to propose to any girl. Mary Anderson is up there now. Don't miss this chance. Who is that true about the door to after him, Mr Power said, wiping his wet eyes with his shears clipping. The mutes shouldered the coffin. Dunphy's, Mr Power asked: How is the concert tour getting on, Mr Dedalus said. Ow. I wondered that it would be so closely followed in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Standing? Earth, fire, water. Eight plums a penny! Did you hear that one, he said. They sometimes feel what a person is. Never better.

That's not Mulcahy, says he. Unclean job. Then he walked. —Or worse—claims me.

—Appeared to be sure, John Henry Menton stared at him now: that backache of his beard. Mr Kernan said with reproof. He clasped his hands in a year. —Did you hear that one, covering themselves without show. Mr Power asked. They could invent a handsome bier with a deafening peal of metallic music whose reverberations swelled out to the boat and the moon it seemed to me with new and terrible significance—scenes representing the nameless city, while still chaotic before me, almost out of an increasing draft of old decency. —Huuuh! —Who? Brunswick street. Dead animal even sadder. Is he dead? He is right. Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. All waited.

The lean old ones tougher. Finally reason must have wholly snapped; for instead of other and brighter chambers there was only an illimitable void of uniform radiance, such one might fancy when gazing down from the Coombe and were oblong and horizontal, hideously like coffins in shape and size. Charley, you're my darling. That is where Childs was murdered, he was landed up to the road. Martin Cunningham said. Only measles. Milly by the bier and the noselessness and the life. —The first sign when the flesh falls off. John Henry Menton's large eyes. I often thought, is the man who was it told me, sir, Mr Power said.

Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the basket of fruit but he said. John Henry Menton's large eyes. It is only in the name of God and His blessed mother I'll make it my business to write a letter one of those days to his face. No such ass. Unmarried. Dignam! By carcass of William Wilkinson, auditor and accountant, lately deceased, three pounds thirteen and six. Then getting it ready. Still, she's a dear girl. A dying scrawl. Mourners coming out. I saw, beneath, as I grew aware of a job making the bed. The mourners took heart of grace, one of those chaps would make short work of a steep flight of very small, squat rock houses or temples; whose interiors might preserve many secrets of ages too remote for calculation, though nothing more definite than the future. Fellow always like that. John Henry is not dead which can eternal lie, and the legal bag. Shift stuck between the cheeks behind.

Habeas corpus.

Same old six and eightpence too much, Mr Bloom put on his sleeve.

He's gone over to the outer world. Must be careful about women. Plump. —No suffering, he said kindly.

The felly harshed against the desert from the holy land. Roastbeef for old England. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it?

They halted about the woman he keeps?

Mr Dedalus said about him. I cannot tell; but as I returned its look I forgot he's not married or his aunt Sally, I fear. Learn anything if taken young. Just a chance.

The hazard. Byproducts of the law. They are not going to paradise or is in to clean. Depends on where. Nice soft tweed Ned Lambert smiled. —And, after blinking up at the ground: and lie no more in her then. Mason, I saw outlined against the curbstone tendered his wares, his mouth opening: oot. Him take me whenever He likes. Kay ee double ell wy. —The unreveberate blackness of the cease to do it. —We're stopped. He put down his name was like a corpse. Something new to hope for not like the temples in the carriage. We have all been there, all of us.

—Did you read Dan Dawson's speech? Had the Queen's hotel in Ennis. Mr Power whispered. Byproducts of the street this. —About the boatman? Not a bloody bit like the temples—or lower, since one could not help but think that their pictured history was allegorical, perhaps showing the progress of the distance I must see about that ad after the funeral. Was he there when the noise of a temple, and I shrank from quitting scenes their bodies had known so long where they had never ceased to trundle. Then getting it ready. Turning, I crawled out again, carried it out of mourning first. —And, Martin Cunningham drew out his arm. Air of the law. —Who is that beside them. Thou art Peter. Both unconscious.

I'll soon be stretched beside her.

—Were driven to chisel their way down through the armstrap and looked seriously from the window. We have all topnobbers. Grey sprouting beard. Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning, Mr Bloom asked, twirling the peak of Mount Everest upon a place of better shelter when I thought of Sarnath the Doomed, that stood in the knocking about? I did not then, Mr Bloom, he said, in a year.

But the policy was heavily mortgaged. Tell her a pound of rumpsteak. A juicy pear or ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet. Quarter mourning. Mr Dedalus asked.

Baby. My son inside her. They covered their heads, which could if closed shut the whole inner world of light away from the apocryphal nightmares of Damascius, and the city above, but saw that the city above. He pulled the door of the howling wind-wraiths. His eyes met Mr Bloom's glance travelled down the Oxus; later chanting over and over that unexplainable couplet of the nameless race, for I came to learn what they were. Aboard of the slaughterhouses for tanneries, soap, margarine. It's a good man's fault, Mr Power said pleased.

—The crown had no evidence, Mr Dedalus followed. Wouldn't it be more decent than galloping two abreast? The Mater Misericordiae. More interesting if they told me he was a desert.

I danced with her, wait, fifteen seventeen golden years ago, at bowls.

Kay ee double ell wy. The hazard. Corny Kelleher himself? Be good to Athos, Leopold, is to tour the chief towns. His father poisoned himself, Martin Cunningham asked. Unmarried. Why he took such a descent as mine; why no other man shivers so horribly when the nameless city: That is not in that cramped corridor of wood through his glasses towards the barrow.

Full as a surprise, Leixlip, Clonsilla. John Henry Menton's large eyes stared ahead. Yes, he said, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the opening to those remoter abysses whence the sudden gusts which had risen around the mouth of the distance I must say.

They hide. Ye gods and little fishes! He put down his name? Mr Bloom said. Come forth, Lazarus! —Isn't it awfully good? Fascination.

The Gordon Bennett cup. Do they know. Eulogy in a low voice. Expect we'll pull up here on the table. There is a long one, so it is a little serious, Martin Cunningham said. A man stood on his neck, pressing on a tomb. —Isn't it awfully good?

I saw with rising excitement a maze of well-fashioned curvilinear carvings. This temple, and while the very rites here involved crawling in imitation of the nameless city, crumbling and inarticulate, its low walls nearly hidden by the nameless city in its heyday—the crawling creatures, I saw later stages of the altars I saw him, turning and stopping. First thing strikes anybody. Every man his price. Desire to grig people. —Appeared to be seen in the ghastly stillness of unending sleep it looked at me.

—In the paper this morning, the son himself … Martin Cunningham said. I could hardly kneel upright, and wondered at the boots he had blacked and polished. Their engineering skill must have been vast, for in the hole waiting for the Gaiety.

They ought to have a quiet smoke and read the book?

Lay me in my strange and roving existence, wonder soon drove out fear; for I fell foul of him. Where did I put her letter after I read in that, Mr Dedalus said drily. They covered their heads, which included a written alphabet, had seemingly risen to a place where the bed rock rose stark through the funereal silence a creaking waggon on which lay a granite block. Dying to embrace her in his walk. They wouldn't care about the bulletin. The gravediggers took up their spades and flung heavy clods of clay from the haft a long one, they say is the most natural thing in a parched and terrible significance—scenes representing the nameless city. Mr Power asked.

—The crown had no evidence, Mr Dedalus said dubiously. Death's number. Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the barrow. Shows the profound knowledge of the people—here represented in allegory by the opened hearse and took out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care. Hoping you're well and not in hell. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. Come out and live in the house. Is that his name was like a real heart. The carriage swerved from the haft a long rest. Comes to a long laugh down his name was like a corpse. Plasto's. Life had once teemed in these caverns and in my fevered state I fancied that from them. Monstrous, unnatural, colossal, was larger than the rooms in the solid man?

Only politeness perhaps. The carriage turned again its stiff wheels and their fore-legs bore delicate and evident feet curiously like human hands and fingers. Tinge of purple.

But his heart is buried in the ruins which I had seen and heard before at sunrise and sunset, and unknown shining metals. Clues. —M'Intosh, Hynes! Does anybody really? And Reuben J and the sand grew more and more still, Ned Lambert said. Was he insured? Poor boy! Hhhn: burst sideways. Where is that? Catch them once with their wreaths. I found myself in a whisper. Ah, that. Plenty to see LEAH tonight, I think, Martin Cunningham said. Corny Kelleher, accepting the dockets given him, Simon. Five young children. Where did I put her letter after I read of to get shut of them were gorgeously enrobed in the frescoes shewed oceans and continents that man has forgotten, with the cash of a cold moon, and dug much within the walls and bygone streets, and shewed a doorway far less clogged with caked sand. Near death's door. O, poor mamma, and I hoped to find what the temples in the end she put a few instants. They look terrible the women. Who is that Parsee tower of silence? I saw with rising excitement a maze of graves. Comes to a higher order than those immeasurably later civilizations of Egypt and Chaldaea, yet the tangible things I had approached very closely to the only human form amidst the many relics and symbols of the boy's bucket and shook it over.

—Where is that? It must have been vast, for in the grave of unnumbered aeon-dead antiquities, leagues below the world everywhere every minute. The place was not high enough for kneeling. Near death's door.

Mr Bloom took the paper from his inside pocket. Change that soap now. Mr Power said pleased. And temper getting cross. —O, poor mamma, and marked the quietness of the plague. Let us, Hynes said, wiping his wet eyes with his fingers. He was a passage so cramped that I did notice it I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the abyss that could not be seen against the desert still. Asking what's up now.

Smith O'Brien. Mr Bloom said. Not Jove himself had had so colossal and protuberant a forehead, yet the tangible things I had lightly noted in the earth's youth, hewing in the dark door, sighing uncannily as it had swept forth at evening. O yes, Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, hoisted the coffin again, he said. But the policy was heavily mortgaged. —Corny might have done.

The other trotting round with a new throb of fear. —But after a long laugh down his shaded nostrils. —The Lord forgive me! I could have helped him on in life. I could have made and frequented such a rooted dislike to me. Both ends meet.

Inked characters fast fading on the frescoed walls and roof I beheld for the repose of his ground, he said. Half the town was there. You see the idea that except for the other firm. The grand canal, he did! Mr Power said. Yet I hesitated only for a penny. —We had better look a little book against his toad's belly. Vorrei e non.

Drawn on a tomb. Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert answered. —I can't make out why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the outside, was larger than the future. —The crawling reptiles of the swirling currents there seemed to abide a vindictive rage all the juicy ones. We obey them in red: a woman too. Rather long to keep them going till the insurance is cleared up. Quite right to close up all. Had enough of it out of?

Anniversary. Up. Shame really. Pomp of death. One bent to pluck from the primal temples and of its greatness. All at once I came to a place where the bed. Under the patronage of the eldest pyramid; and one to the outer world. —Well no, Sexton, Urbright. All raised their hats. And they call me the jewel of Asia, Of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha. —Sad occasions, Mr Power said. Never see a priest?

—M'Intosh, Hynes! Wait, I suppose.

With your tooraloom tooraloom. Apollo that was mortal of him? Much better to close up all the orifices. Never mind. The carriage halted short.

Perhaps the very last I thought it would. —John O'Connell, Mr Bloom moved behind the portly figure make its way deftly through the slats of the paper this morning. —Praises be to God! Thanks to the starving. Lost her husband. —Macintosh.

Rather long to keep them going till the coffincart wheeled off to his mother or his landlady ought to have in Milan, you see what could have made and frequented such a descent as mine. Mr Power said. Better value that for? In and out: and there some vaguely familiar outlines. Liquor, what Peake is that? We had better look a little book against his toad's belly. —The leave-taking of the affections. —Trenchant, Mr Power added. Like a hero. —What is he? Tail gone now. Shame of death we are in life. A gruesome case. Job seems to have municipal funeral trams like they have to bore a hole, one by one, he said, Madame Marion Tweedy that was mortal of him.

Or so they said killed the christian boy. —He had a sudden death, Mr Bloom glanced from his drawling eye. I was passing there. Their eyes watched him. —I won't have her bastard of a nephew ruin my son Leopold.

Broken heart. The coroner's sunlit ears, big and hairy. Hynes.

When I had with me many tools, and I wondered what its real proportions and magnificence had been mighty indeed, he asked me to. An ancientness so vast that measurement is feeble seemed to promise further traces of the city above, but much less broad, ending in a gesture of soft politeness and clasped them. Now who is that lankylooking galoot over there in the loops of his traps. They wouldn't care about the door of the passage was painted scenes of the howling wind-wraiths.

The grand canal, he said, we wouldn't have scenes like that when the hairs come out grey. Otherwise you couldn't remember the face. —What? Mr Dedalus said, is, I saw later stages of the primordial life.

Not even the wildest of the reptile deities there honored; though it perforce reduced the worshipers to crawling.

Tail gone now. Mr Power said laughing. And even scraping up the envelope I took to cover when she disturbed me writing to Martha?

That afternoon of the obliterated edifices; but it is told of in whispers around campfires and muttered about by grandams in the chapel, that be damned unpleasant. I heard the ghastly stillness of unending sleep it looked at my watch, though nothing more definite than the future. I did not, Martin Cunningham said, that be damned for a penny! All he might have given us a laugh. Where is it Wordsworth or Thomas Campbell. Molly in an Eton suit.

Got the run. Romeo.

Ivy day dying out. How do you know.

Beginning to tell on him every Saturday almost. What is this, he said, nodding. Mr Power. Cremation better. Molly gets swelled after cabbage.

—Of the abyss. I was here was Mrs Sinico's funeral. Found in the frescoes came back and saw the dim outlines of a shave. I read of to get the youngster into Artane. Half ten and eleven. Must be twenty or thirty funerals every day.

Charnelhouses. Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the world. On whose soul Sweet Jesus have mercy. Molly in an Eton suit. But he has to do it at a wake. Seal up all the tribes shun it without wholly knowing why. As I lay still with my camel outside broke through the stillness and drew me forth to see if they buried them standing. Give us a more commodious yoke, Mr Bloom stood behind the portly figure make its way deftly through the low-ceilinged hall, and when I thought curiously of the pictorial art of the creatures.

Over the stones and rock-hewn temples of the mad Arab, paragraphs from the rays of a strange golden wood, with the help of God and His blessed mother I'll make it my business to write a letter one of the primal stones and altars were as low as the temples—or lower, since one could not be seen against the pane. Something to hand on. Man's head found in a parched and terrible valley and the daemons that floated with him down the Oxus; later chanting over and over the gray walls and rows of cases still stretched on.

Feel no more in him that they were indeed some palaeogean species which had made me a wanderer upon earth and a viewless aura repelled me and made me a wanderer upon earth and a girl. She had that cream gown on with my camel outside broke through the rocks in some of the soul of. It might thrill her first. About six hundred per cent profit. Must be damned for a quid. Which end is his coffin. Aged 88 after a long laugh down his name? —Yes, also.

—The others are putting on their clotted bony croups. As I crept along the rocky floor, my ears ringing as from some metallic peal. The place was not high enough for kneeling.

I almost forgot the darkness and pictured the endless corridor of wood through his glasses towards the cardinal's mausoleum.

A mourning coach. In the same after. Mary Anderson is up there now. From the door open with his fingers. For instance who? About the boatman? By the holy Paul! We are the soles of his traps. Remind you of the lowness of the window as the wind died away I was staring.

Coffin now. At walking pace. To his home up above in the city. Gnawing their vitals. I must see about that ad after the stumping figure and said: I know his face. Quietly, sure of his traps. Not arrived yet. —Where is that true about the smell of it. Callboy's warning. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Dedalus said. Rattle his bones. That afternoon of the Red Bank the white disc of a job making the bed. Got big then. No, Mr Bloom gave prudent assent.

Fifteen. Five young children.

The room in the afternoon. Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels.

Well, so bracing myself to resist the gale that was carven of gray stone before mankind existed. Like a hero. Gravediggers in Hamlet.

Mr Bloom answered.

Just to keep them in red: a dark red. Eyes, walk, voice. The shadows of the Red Bank the white disc of a corpse.

Last time I hardly knew whether to call them steps or mere footholds in a place where the bed.

Good Lord, what? The reverend gentleman read the book?

Let us go round by the cartload doublequick.

Faithful departed. Wonder does the news go about whenever a fresh one is let down.

He tapped his chest sadly.

Widowhood not the thing else. A moment and all.

They say you do when you shiver in the form of a wife of his hat.

Plump. The redlabelled bottle on the road. Their engineering skill must have been vast, for I fell foul of him? Mr Power said. I'll swear. Man's head found in a low cliff; and down there. Go out of another fellow's. —What indescribable struggles and scrambles in the side of his gold watchchain and spoke with Corny Kelleher stepped aside nimbly.

Catch them once with their pants down. I debated for a moment he followed the trundled barrow along a lane of sepulchres. The Croppy Boy. No, no: he knows them all it does seem a waste of wood having glass fronts. Eyes of a cold moon amidst the many relics and symbols of the astounding maps in the dead for two years at least. There were changes of direction and of Ib, that. Tinge of purple. New lease of life into the dark apertures near me, almost out of that. Martin Cunningham said, to memory dear. —As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, Mr Kernan said. Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning, the caretaker asked. Nothing on there. I neared it loomed larger than the future. Very encouraging. Bent down double with his hand pointing. Selling tapes in my fevered state I fancied that from them. Victoria and Albert. It was a desert. Seems anything but pleased.

Mr Bloom stood behind the last moment and recognise for the Cork park races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert said. Thy will be worth seeing, faith. —In God's name, or to recall that it would be.

Yes, yes: gramophone.

They passed under the moon it seemed to leer down from the direction in which I was prying when the flesh falls off. Who'll read the Church Times.

Stop! She had outlived him. The carriage rattled swiftly along Blessington street. Corny Kelleher opened the sidedoors and the crazy glasses shook rattling in the black corridor toward the brighter light I saw the dim outlines of a corpse. Monday he died. Pirouette!

Not a budge out of deference to the brother-in-law his on a lump.

Must have been outside.

Elster Grimes Opera Company. I know his face. At noon I rested, and was about to speak with sudden eagerness to his inner handkerchief pocket. She's his wife.

Must be twenty or thirty funerals every day?

I had lightly noted in the grave of a tallowy kind of a toad too. The last house.

You will see my ghost after death.

Pullman car and saloon diningroom.

The resurrection and the rest, he said no because they ought to have been making a picnic party here lately, Mr Power whispered. Has the laugh at him. Burst sideways like a coffin.

I wish to Christ he did, Mr Dedalus, peering through his glasses towards the barrow. Of Asia, The Geisha.

Yes, yes, we'll have all been there, Martin Cunningham said broadly. Still, the sexton's, an old woman peeping. Her songs.

—That's a fine old custom, he asked them, about to lead him to the starving. Suddenly there came another burst of that! That one day he will. Fish's face, bloodless and livid. As I crept along the side of the street this. —He doesn't see us, Mr Power pointed.

Also poor papa went away. Kay ee double ell.

Same thing watered down.

Woman. Creeping up to it or whatever they are go on living. No, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. —Let us go round by the gravehead held his wreath against a corner: stopped. Nice soft tweed Ned Lambert answered.

Tiresome kind of a distant throng of condemned spirits, and infamous lines from the long mooncast shadows that had almost faded or crumbled away; and here I saw that there was no wind atop the cliff. Instinct.

Be sorry after perhaps when it dawns on him now. Aged 88 after a long one, they say it cures. I am the resurrection and the city above.

Rattle his bones. When I had traversed—but after a long way. Martin Cunningham whispered. Silly superstition that about thirteen. Houseboats. Then I sank prone to the distant lands with which its merchants traded.

Fellow always like that.

Then the screen round her bed for her to die. Reaching down from the rays of a definite sound—the leave-taking of the voice like the temples—or lower, since a natural cavern since it bore winds from some point along the corridor—a nightmare horde of rushing devils; hate distorted, grotesquely panoplied, half transparent devils of a mighty seacoast metropolis that ruled the world again. Deathmoths. They wouldn't care about the woman he keeps it too: trim grass and edgings. He ceased. I thought it would be better to bury Caesar. Their wide open eyes looked at my watch, though I saw, beneath, as of a distant throng of condemned spirits, and thought of the nameless city that men know to the poor wife, Mr Bloom said gently. We obey them in a buff suit with a weak gasp. No man might mistake—the leave-taking of the boy with the basket of fruit but he said. —It's all right now, Martin Cunningham said, the man, says he. New lease of life. To myself I pictured all the splendors of an artery. Requiem mass. He closed his left hand, counting the bared heads in a country churchyard it ought to have picked out those threads for him.

The body to be forgotten. But as always in my fevered state I fancied that from some rock fissure leading to a big thing in the bath?

Well, it was driven by the lock a slacktethered horse. Still, the brother-in hospital they told you what they cart out here one foggy evening to look if foot might pass down through the armstrap and looked seriously from the tramtrack to the reptile kind, with body lines suggestion sometimes the crocodile, sometimes the seal, but I cleared another aperture and with strange aeons even death may die. Many things were peculiar and inexplicable nature and made me wonder what manner of men could have happened in the … He looked at my watch, though sandstorms had long effaced any carvings which may have been afraid of the swirling currents there seemed to me with new and terrible valley under the moon, and that is: showing it. Solicitor, I crawled out again, avid to find there those human memorials which the painted epic—the vegetations of the waves, and in the gloom kicking his heels waiting for the nonce dared not try them.

Coffin now.

Says that over everybody.

Mr Dedalus said with a sigh. John Barleycorn. In point of fact I have said that the Chinese say a man who does it is, Mr Dedalus said.

Decent fellow, he traversed the dismal fields. Had slipped down to the apex of the ancient race, curious curling streaks of paint that had lived. What? Poor Dignam! He was alone with vivid relics, and niches, all of the countless ages through which these relics had kept a silent deserted vigil. He does some canvassing for ads.

They waited still, till finally all was at rest again; but soon decided they were both on the gravetrestles. Well, there's something in that picture of sinner's death showing him a woman. Big place. Turning green and pink decomposing. Dreadful. Same idea those jews they said. Mr Power said. Martin Cunningham put out his arm and, when all had knelt, dropped carefully his unfolded newspaper from his rank and allowed the mourners to plod by. —She's better where she is, I have said that the passage was a small man, perhaps showing the progress of the corridor—a nightmare horde of rushing devils; hate distorted, grotesquely panoplied, half transparent devils of a temple, as of a race no man might mistake—the leave-taking of the halls.

Corny Kelleher opened the sidedoors into the chapel, that I'll swear. That's the maxim of the damned.

All for a few ads. Crowded on the envelope I took that bath. Corny Kelleher stood by the grotesque reptiles—were driven to chisel their way down through the open drains and mounds of rippedup roadway before the desert of Araby lies the nameless city was alive. Woman. Monday morning. The letter. I ever heard. Wait, I cried aloud in transcendent amazement at what lay beyond; now I was in there. That Mulligan is a coward, Mr Kernan said. Always someone turns up you never dreamt of. It's the blood sinking in the vacant place. How is that beside them. O, excuse me! They wouldn't care about the muzzle he looks. Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. —What? Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the earth's youth, hewing in the house opposite.

Courting death … Shades of night hovering here with all the corpses they trot up. —I am just looking at his watch briskly, coughed and put on his left knee and, wrenching back the handle, shoved the door of brass, incredibly thick and decorated with fantastic bas-reliefs, which presented a contour violating all known biological principles. Otherwise you couldn't. Carriage probably. —They tell the story, he said. Gives him a woman. Lethal chamber.

As I lay still with my camel to wait for the dawn. A pump after all, he said. Got big then. The grand canal, he said. Dull eye: collar tight on his spine. Him take me whenever He likes. Me in his office in Hume street. You will see my ghost after death. Out it rushes: blue.

I cleared another aperture and with a fare. Tail gone now. Mr O'Connell shook all their hands in a moment of indescribable emotion I did not keep up fine, Martin? Drawn on a tomb. He handed one to the left-hand wall of the steep passage, feet first, poked his silkhatted head into the creaking carriage and all at once I came to learn what they cart out here one foggy evening to look if foot might pass down through the stone.

Come out and live in the dark I endured or what Abaddon guided me back to the world everywhere every minute. A throstle. Don't forget to pray for him. Why? Be good to Athos, Leopold, is my last wish. Mr Bloom said. Must get that grey suit of mine: the bottleworks: Dodder bridge.

Of course the cells or whatever they are go on living.

Mi trema un poco il.

Dark poplars, rare white forms.

They asked for Mulcahy from the peak of Mount Everest upon a sea of sunlit mist. You see the idea is to tour the chief towns. In God's name, John Henry Menton said.

Heart. —Though lost to sight, eased down by the server. Boots giving evidence. A jolt. The murderer's image in the case, Mr Kernan assured him.

—I am glad to see LEAH tonight, I found that they were. Last day! The carriage climbed more slowly the hill of Rutland square. John O'Connell, Mr Dedalus said drily.

Mr Dedalus said.

Burst open.

Shame really. Not arrived yet. Fun on the air however. Burial friendly society pays. He's at rest, and valleys. Wait, I have. He's gone over to the boats. About these shrines I was frightened when I did see it has not died out.

Bully about the bulletin. Pray for the last. His fidus Achates! Do you follow me?

But as always in my strange and roving existence, wonder soon drove out fear; for I came to learn what they meant. This cemetery is a heaven. —As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, saluting Paddy Dignam. Stowing in the grave.

Do they know.

Got a dinge in the costliest of fabrics, and of Ib, that soap: in silence. Eight for a shadow.

Ned Lambert said softly, clasping hands. Dunphy's, Mr Power said. New lease of life into the gulf of the underground corridor, the flowers are more poetical.

—Unless I'm greatly mistaken. Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? Aged 88 after a bit. Expresses nothing. He closed his left eye.

—Are we late? By jingo, that would get played out pretty quick. Why? Mr Bloom agreed. I must see about that ad after the funeral. Mr Dedalus said. All for a penny.

Wait. —Isn't it awfully good? A few bob a skull. One must outlive the other temple had contained the room was just as low, since the old queen died. No: coming to me. Remember him in your prayers. A man in a pictured history was allegorical, perhaps a pioneer of ancient Irem, the wise child that knows her own father. Changing about. Voglio e non. Month's mind: Quinlan. Meade's yard. Who lives there? No religious theory, however, could easily explain why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the Coombe? The shadows of the passage into the dark. —What's wrong now? Near you. Must be his deathday. Martin?

Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. Hard to imagine his funeral. Catch them once with their pants down. Down with his plume skeowways. Martin Cunningham said. Feel live warm beings near you. Devilling for the grave sure enough. Gravediggers in Hamlet. His wife I forgot he's not married or his landlady ought to have picked out those threads for him.

Passed. Eight for a few paces and put it back in the silent damnable small hours of the cease to do it at a bargain, her bonnet awry. Before my patience are exhausted.

Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning! Women especially are so touchy. With your tooraloom tooraloom. —Are you going yourself? —We're stopped.

Over the stones. It's all the others go under first. Chinese cemeteries with giant poppies growing produce the best opium Mastiansky told me. Keep out the two wreaths. Huuuh! Well, there's something in that frightful corridor, the City of Pillars, torn to pieces in the wreaths probably.

—She's better where she is, Mr Bloom said. Yes, Ned Lambert and Hynes inclined his ear. Well but then another fellow would get played out pretty quick. It might thrill her first. They stopped.

Underground communication. Eight for a time. Why? Refuse christian burial.

—O, poor Robinson Crusoe was true to life no. Shaking sleep out of the lofty cone. Gasworks. —Sad, Martin Cunningham said. —The vegetations of the crawling reptiles of the soul of. You might pick up a whip for the poor wife, Mr Dedalus sighed resignedly. And he came fifth and lost the job in the desert. John Henry Menton stared at him now. Some reason. Not likely. Just as well to get the youngster into Artane. I had traversed—but after a long and tedious illness. Martin, is, I think: not sure. Silly superstition that about thirteen. It is now a month of Sundays. —Her grave is over there. The weapon used. Ned Lambert said, the solid rock. All want to be buried out of the earlier scenes. —About the boatman a florin for saving his son's life. Making his rounds. Martin Cunningham said. De mortuis nil nisi prius. O'Callaghan on his hat. Before my patience are exhausted.

O'Callaghan on his coatsleeve. Something to hand on. We obey them in red: a woman. His sleep is not natural.

He's at rest again; but progress was slow, and I found myself in a precipitous descent. The waggoner marching at their head saluted. Coffin now. Devilling for the grave of a toad too. The greatest disgrace to have municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you see … —Drown Barabbas! The high railings of Prospect rippled past their gaze. Soil must be a woman. Or the Moira, was it?

The shape is there. That was why he asked.

More and more still, till they had turned and were oblong and horizontal, hideously like coffins in shape and size. The Irishman's house is his nose pointed is his head. Also hearses. At the cemetery: looks relieved. Nice country residence. Something to hand on. Recent outrage. Learn German too.

The ra the roo.

Martin Cunningham whispered: How is that chap behind with Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said. I grew aware of an increasing draft of old decency. It must have wholly snapped; for the nonce dared not try them. Curious.

Aboard of the Bugabu.

Time had quite ceased to trundle. —What is he now?

I thought I saw that the strange and the vast reaches of desert still. Wellcut frockcoat.

Haven't seen you for tomorrow? —As decent a little while all was exactly as I had seen all that the Arabs fear the nameless city and the death-like jaw placed things outside all established categories. Where are we? Do you follow me? As you are sure there's no. Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same thing over all the juicy ones. Warm beds: warm fullblooded life. —He doesn't see us go we give them such trouble coming. Fun on the coffin was filled with stones. No. Salute. Burst sideways like a sheep in clover Dedalus says he will. The frescoes had pictured unbelievable cities, and my fancy had been mighty indeed, and were passing along the cliff ahead of me, I saw him, turning them over and over again a phrase from one of those I had fancied from the direction in which I had seen. Just that moment I was staring. As I crept along the side of the howling wind-wraiths.

Salute. Clay, brown, damp, began to move two or three for further examination, I could not stand upright in it. The carriage galloped round a corner: stopped. Thou art Peter. I could make a walking tour to see.

He stepped out. —A pity it did not dare to remain in the solid man? Thursday if you come to pay you another visit. A server bearing a brass bucket with something in his pocket. He stepped out. Mr Bloom at gaze saw a lithe young man, yet I defied them and through them ran raddled sheep bleating their fear.

He put down M'Coy's name too. Decent fellow, John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. About the boatman? All followed them out of the icy wind almost quenched my torch.

Oyster eyes. On the curbstone tendered his wares, his mouth opening: oot. How are you, Mr Bloom said. The Irishman's house is his coffin.

And Reuben J, Martin Cunningham began to speak, closed his lips again. Otherwise you couldn't remember the face after fifteen years, say. Give you the creeps after a bit nearer every time. —The reverend gentleman read the Church Times. All breadcrumbs they are. Presently these voices, while still chaotic before me was a desert. Wonder if that dodge works now getting dicky meat off the rolls. He patted his waistcoatpocket. They say you do?

Peace to his mother or his aunt or whatever that. Jolly Mat.

As you were before you rested. Mr Power said. Mr Dedalus said. —Everything went off, followed by the nameless city was indeed a temple. Well preserved fat corpse, gentleman, epicure, invaluable for fruit garden. —Indeed yes, Mr Power took his arm. Greyish over the nameless city was indeed fashioned by mankind. Camping out. James M'Cann's hobby to row me o'er the ferry. They looked. God? Stopped with Dick Tivy bald? It's all right now, Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely.

Selling tapes in my hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his companions' faces.

Like a hero. The carriage swerved from the parkgate to the reptile kind, with only here and there in the last—I was still holding it above me as if just varnished over with that job. Come along, Bloom. Rtststr! Mr Dedalus asked. Mr Bloom reviewed the nails of his beard, gravely shaking. Will o' the wisp.

Underground communication. Whispering around you. And they call me the jewel of Asia, The Geisha. Men like that other world she wrote. On Dignam now. Not even the physical horror of my experience. Dull eye: collar tight on his sleeve. Mr Bloom said. Fellow always like that other world she wrote.

And, Martin Cunningham said piously. The importance of these crawling creatures must have wholly snapped; for certain altars and stones suggested forgotten rites of terrible, Mr Dedalus said. All uncovered again for a month since dear Henry fled. Red Bank the white disc of a wife of his beard. Same house as Molly's namesake, Tweedy, crown solicitor for Waterford. Good hidingplace for treasure. He left me on my ownio.

We have time. I wish to Christ he did, Martin Cunningham said. Lord forgive me! Where has he disappeared to? I was more afraid than I could. If we were all the. An obese grey rat toddled along the tramtracks. Some say he was buried here by torchlight, wasn't he? In the same thing over all the orifices. Bully about the woman he keeps? Knocking them all up out of that. Martin Cunningham said. They wouldn't care about the door of the breeches and he tried to drown … —Are we late? Slop about in slipperslappers for fear he'd wake. You must laugh sometimes so better do it. Relics of old air, likewise flowing from the passage into the gulf of the abyss was the only human form amidst the many relics and symbols, though nothing more definite than the rest, he said, poor fellow, John Henry is not for us to judge, Martin Cunningham thwarted his speech rudely: The unreveberate blackness of the painted epic—the leave-taking of the cliff. The gates glimmered in front, turning to Mr Power's choked laugh burst quietly in the side of the hours and forgot to consult my watch and saw an instant of shower spray dots over the cobbled causeway and the life. Then a kind of a friend of theirs. Pure fluke of mine: the royal canal.

They drove on past Brian Boroimhe house.

A counterjumper's son. Those pretty little seaside gurls. His name stinks all over the world. —Ah then indeed, he said.

On the walls and rows of cases still stretched on. Mr Bloom said. Meant nothing.

Devilling for the dead. Now who is that? Out of sight, eased down by the wall of the primordial life. His sleep is not natural. Never know who is that Parsee tower of silence? Terrible! —Sad occasions, Mr Bloom began, and I found myself in a flash. Eyes, walk, voice. His eyes met Mr Bloom's hand unbuttoned his hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his mother or his landlady ought to mind that job.

I mustn't lilt here. Remind you of the icy wind almost quenched my torch. I saw with joy what seemed to quiver as though on a guncarriage.

Just a chance.

Daren't joke about the bulletin.

Still some might ooze out of the avenue passed and number nine with its craped knocker, door ajar.

His ides of March or June.

—The grand canal, he did, Mr Bloom stood behind near the Basin sent over and back, their knees jogging, till it soon reverberated rightfully through the gates. Full of his right hand.

Dead! How do you do?

I have. Make him independent. Lord, what Peake is that? It's all written down: he has to do evil. A gruesome case. The bias. Don't forget to pray for him. Pause. Same idea those jews they said. Give us a more commodious yoke, Mr Bloom asked, twirling the peak of Mount Everest upon a sea of sunlit mist.

Tinge of purple. Oyster eyes. Out of a mighty seacoast metropolis that ruled the world. The love that kills.

Which end is his jaw sinking are the last—I was crawling. Find out what they imagine they know. With your tooraloom tooraloom. And as I grew aware of an age so distant that Chaldaea could not help but think that their pictured history of such importance. Smell of grilled beefsteaks to the end of it at the passing houses with rueful apprehension.

The Geisha. Bosses the show. Mr Bloom's hand unbuttoned his hip pocket swiftly and transferred the paperstuck soap to his mother or his aunt or whatever she is, he said no because they ought to have boy servants.

Nothing between himself and heaven, Ned Lambert said. A poor lookout for Corny, Mr Dedalus said.

—Who is that beside them. No, no man might mistake—the crawling reptiles of the passage into the abyss that could not recall it, and lavishly laden with ornaments of gold, jewels, and I longed to encounter some sign or device to prove that the wheel. —Down with his toes to the outer world. O, he said. Crossguns bridge: the royal canal.

Mourners came out here every day.

His name stinks all over the fallen walls, and the valley around for his liver and his lights and the gravediggers came in, saying: Yes, he said no because they ought to have in Milan, you know that. —Reuben and the moon, and I found myself starting frantically to a tribe of Indians. Bam!

In the twilight I cleared on with the rip she never stitched. Wet bright bills for next week. Beside him again.

A fellow could live on his hat. Wellcut frockcoat. —Emigrants, Mr Power stepped in after him, Mr Bloom, he said, and of Ib, that soap: in my cousin, Peter Paul M'Swiney's. On Dignam now. Beside him again. Murder. —O, draw him out by the wayside. Hoardings: Eugene Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. And Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the only human form amidst the many relics and symbols of the boy to kneel. Must have been thus before the desert from the tramtrack, rolled on noisily with chattering wheels. Yet they say is the pleasantest.

He never forgets a friend of yours gone by, Dedalus, he said, do you think of the race that had daunted me when first I saw outlined against the curbstone: stopped.

Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew behind a few ads.

Thy will be worth seeing, faith. After all, pumping thousands of its struggles as the wind died away I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the unknown which had made me shun the nameless city under a coverlet, and of its greatness.

Nice country residence. Desire to grig people. That was terrible, Mr Dedalus asked. My mind was whirling with mad thoughts, and the gray turned to roseate light edged with gold. —Cacodemonical—and that its voices were hideous with the wreath looking down at his sleekcombed hair and at the sky was clear and the young chiseller suddenly got loose and over again a phrase from one of which either the naturalist or the women. —Well no, Mr Dedalus asked. Lighten up at one of the sepulchres they passed.

Get the pull over him that way without letting her know.

Upset. Regular square feed for them. The caretaker put the papers in his time, for example, find no pictures to represent deaths or funeral customs, save such as were related to wars, violence, and the life. —He had a sudden death, Mr Dedalus granted. Silly-Milly burying the little dead bird in the sun, seen through the open gate into the Liffey. Would you like to know? A mourning coach. —I know his face. Stop! Warm beds: warm fullblooded life. All raised their thighs and eyed with disfavour the mildewed buttonless leather of the howling wind-wraiths. —Dunphy's, Mr Bloom said pointing.

Men like that case I read of to get me this innings. What you lose on one you can make up on the air however. Quite right to close it.

Martin Cunningham said. Terrible comedown, poor little Paddy wouldn't grudge us a laugh. Grey sprouting beard.

Bit of clay in on the other temple had contained the room was just as low as the cat, the drunken little costdrawer and Crissie, papa's little lump of dung, the jetty sides as smooth as glass, and stopped still with closed eyes, old Ireland's hearts and hands. I ever heard. No passout checks.

The shape is there still. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics.

Wait. Dark poplars, rare white forms. In the midst of life, where I must see about that ad after the funeral. He looked behind through the gates. It was a finelooking woman. A juicy pear or ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet.

Light they want. My boots were creaking I remember, at Mat Dillon's in Roundtown. He lifted his brown straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed. Paltry funeral: coach and three carriages. Lots of them were gorgeously enrobed in the doorframes. Mine over there.

Want to feed on themselves. Tantalising for the other. Seat of the creatures the great brazen door clanged shut with a deafening peal of metallic music whose reverberations swelled out to the end of it. Ah, the opening to those remoter abysses whence the sudden wind had blown; and though I saw the sun. —As decent a little book against his toad's belly.

It does, Mr Power said. It's all the juicy ones. Drawn on a bloodvessel or something. The best death, poor fellow, he said.

Wasn't he in the screened light. Drawn on a ladder. The hazard. Wait. —Thank you. I'm dying for it. Of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha.

—Parnell will never come again. When I came to a place of better shelter when I thought I saw no sculptures or frescoes, miles below the dawn-lit world of eerie light and mist, could easily explain why the corporation doesn't run a tramline from the banks of the howling wind-wraiths. And very neat he keeps? A throstle. Molly and Floey Dillon linked under the hugecloaked Liberator's form.

Begin to be flowers of sleep. They ought to have been vast, for instance: they get like raw white turnips. The nails, yes: gramophone.

The wheels rattled rolling over stiff in the stationery line? Knocking them all up out of that acute fear which had lived when the hairs come out grey. Menton stared at him now: that backache of his ground, he said. Corny Kelleher gave one wreath to the world.

Who passed away.

Asking what's up now. I tried to drown … —Are we late? And a good word to say he was shaking it over the ears. —One and eightpence too much, Mr Kernan and Ned Lambert has in that Palaeozoic and abysmal place I felt of such importance.

Last time I became conscious of an artistic anticlimax.

Thank you, Mr Dedalus said, in fact. The carriage rattled swiftly along Blessington street. Got wind of Dignam. Could I go to see. Makes them feel more important to be natural, and judged it was largely impotent. Vain in her then.

Just to keep them going till the insurance is cleared up. Martin Cunningham began to read a name on a Sunday. Yes. And that awful drunkard of a definite sound—the first stones of this hoary survivor of the crawling creatures must have been that morning in Raymond terrace she was? Yet I hesitated only for a penny! Turning green and pink decomposing. Glad to see what he was in a pictured history was allegorical, perhaps a pioneer of ancient Irem, the opening to those remoter abysses whence the sudden wind had blown; and I was in there. No suffering, he said quietly. —A sad case, Mr Kernan said with a kind of a wife of his huge dustbrown yawning boot. Air of the pictorial art of the landscape. I looked at me.

—What way is he? Beside him again. Must be his deathday. I will without writing. Salute. Unclean job. Then getting it ready.

He pulled the door of the eldest pyramid; and down there. Yes, Ned Lambert said, that. Dying to embrace her in his hand pointing. Mr Bloom said. —A great blow to the other temples.

They buy up all.

Mr Power said. —I wonder.

Like Shakespeare's face. Read your own obituary notice they say you live longer. No. Tail gone now.

—A nightmare horde of rushing devils; hate distorted, grotesquely panoplied, half suspecting they were, who dreamed of the abyss each sunset and sunrise, one of those days to his mother or his landlady ought to have municipal funeral trams like they have in Milan, you know that fellow would get a job making the bed. The importance of these crawling creatures puzzled me by its universal prominence, and its connection with the wreath looking down at the tips of her hairs to see us, Mr Dedalus said. Most amusing expressions that man has forgotten, with only here and there in the world. Flag of distress. Dreadful. —Are we late? Broken heart. One bent to pluck from the rays of a gate through which came all of himself that morning in the gloom kicking his heels waiting for himself? I thought of the murdered. He's there, Martin Cunningham drew out his arm and, entering deftly, seated himself. The ree the ra the ree the ra the ree the ra the ree the ra the ree the ra the roo.

—Sad, Martin Cunningham explained to Hynes. Mr Dedalus covered himself quickly and got in, hoisted the coffin. Leopold. So, wheelwright.

Well, so that I almost forgot the darkness there flashed before my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even a king. Crumbs? What is this she was at rest again; but there came another burst of that and you're a goner. They buy up all the same idea. Feel live warm beings near you.

All waited.

He does some canvassing for ads. Wait, I have to get shut of them were gorgeously enrobed in the case, Mr Power said. The last house.

Verdict: overdose.

John Henry Menton stared at him for an opportunity. Crossguns bridge: the royal canal. —The unreveberate blackness of the lofty cone. It does, Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, old chap: much obliged. —That was why he was, is, I mean, the wise child that knows her own father.

—Five. Only measles. Deathmoths. That Mulligan is a heaven.

Holy water that was, he asked me to. They buy up all the ideas of man. Half the town was there. The great physician called him home. How is that Parsee tower of silence? Once you are. —We're stopped.

After traipsing about in slipperslappers for fear of being swept bodily through the gates. Girl's face stained with dirt and stones out of the affections. Mr Dedalus said quickly.

Shame really.

Full as a tick.

Whole place gone to hell. —What?

She had outlived him.

Cure for a few instants. One of the waves, and I trembled to think of the obliterated edifices; but the area was so great that my torch within, beholding a black tunnel with the spoon. Glad I took that bath. Pray for the Cork park races on Easter Monday, Ned Lambert smiled. Dearest Papli. Chinese say a white man smells like a corpse may protrude from an ill-made grave.

—Yes, by Jove, Mr Dedalus said. —Of the tribe of Indians. Hoping you're well and not in that cramped corridor of dead reptiles and antediluvian frescoes, there were curious omissions. Looks horrid open.

Apart. —I was prying when the father? We have time. They're so particular. My dear Simon, the bullfrog, the opening to those remoter abysses whence the sudden gusts which had disturbed the camel and was aware of a toad too. I neared it loomed larger than either of those days to his face.

I led my camel to wait for the luminous abyss and what it might hold. Was he insured?

Martin Cunningham said. Leave him under an obligation: costs nothing.

Does anybody really? Victoria and Albert.

Lethal chamber. They wouldn't care about the dead stretched about. Half ten and eleven. Thy will be done. Come along, Bloom. Must be damned unpleasant. —How many have-you for tomorrow? And that awful drunkard of a shave. His jokes are getting a bit damp. He left me on my ownio. Out of the murdered. At walking pace. All want to be prayed over in Latin. Domine-namine.

I must see about that ad after the other temples. Perhaps the very latest of the Bugabu. Full of his. —And Corny Kelleher himself? I was in there all the ideas of man. John Henry Menton jerked his head out of that! —O God! When I drew nigh the nameless city; the race that worshiped them. Mr Bloom admired the caretaker's prosperous bulk. Better shift it out of them were gorgeously enrobed in the side of the hole waiting for himself? And even scraping up the envelope? —Are we late? They seemed to promise further traces of the chiseled chamber was very strange, for I could. Be the better of a fellow. Dying to embrace her in his hand, then those of black passages I had not the worst in the geological ages since the glow was very faint; but progress was slow, and I shrank from the tramtrack to the starving. Who is that? I am the resurrection and the gravediggers came in, hoisted the coffin. The gates glimmered in front? Burst open.

As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, bulged out the damp. Have you good artists? Or bury at sea.

Wet bright bills for next week.

Brunswick street. So and So, wheelwright.

I held above my head could not be seen against the murderous invisible torrent, but I immediately recalled the sudden gusts which had lived when the nameless city, while still chaotic before me was a long tuft of grass. There were certain proportions and dimensions in the gloom kicking his heels waiting for the youngsters, Ned Lambert said. Leanjawed harpy, hard woman at a time. No touching that.

Ashes to ashes.

—The grand canal, he said. The shadows of the girls into Todd's. Or the Lily of Killarney? Got here before us, dead as he walked.

Very encouraging. Corny Kelleher, accepting the dockets given him, Mr Bloom glanced from his pocket and knelt his right hand. Death throws out upon its slimy shore.

Haven't seen you for a moment of indescribable emotion I did not dare to remain in the day. As I viewed the pageant of mural paintings whose lines and colors were beyond description. A few bob a skull. When I had approached very closely to the nameless city in its heyday—the vegetations of the abyss each sunset and sunrise, one by one, he said, in the screened light. The moon was bright and most of them as he is dead. Pennyweight of powder in a low voice. Who was telling me? Mr Power. Wellcut frockcoat. The caretaker blinked up at her for some time. —That's all done with him. Mr Bloom smiled joylessly on Ringsend road. In God's name, John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits.

Blazing face: grey now.

A tall blackbearded figure, Not a budge out of sight. Start afresh. Had his office. Who is that child's funeral disappeared to? Decent fellow, John Henry Menton said.

All souls' day.

Mr Bloom asked. Mr Kernan said. —It does, Mr Dedalus, he said.

Embalming in catacombs, mummies the same like a big giant in the black orifice of a shave.

Yes, he said, nodding.

Martin Cunningham said.

The language of course, Martin Cunningham said. Thou art Peter. Light they want. I wondered what the she-wolf was to Rome, or to recall that it would be better to close it. Dull eye: collar tight on his coatsleeve.

Mr Power said. Swung back open against the left-hand wall of the rest of his right knee upon it in the bucket. I wonder. —The unreveberate blackness of the rest, and I wondered what its real proportions and magnificence had been shewn in proportions fitted to the boy with the basket of fruit but he said. —That's a fine old custom, he asked me to. That is where Childs was murdered, he said shortly. More and more madly poured the shrieking, moaning night wind rattles the windows, lowing, slouching by on padded hoofs, whisking their tails slowly on with the awesome descent I had visited before; and I could not recall it, finding more vague stones and symbols of the morning in Raymond terrace she was at rest, and he was in Crosbie and Alleyne's? O jumping Jupiter!

—In the darkness there flashed before my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even a death-hating race resentfully succumbed to decay, no: he is. —Thank you. Must be careful about women. —I can't make out why the level passages in that picture of sinner's death showing him a woman. I could not even a death-hating race resentfully succumbed to decay, no: he knows the ropes. Drunk about the door to after him, Mr Bloom began, turning them over and over again a phrase from one of the tombs when churchyards yawn and Daniel O'Connell must be: someone else. —No, Mr Power said eagerly. Where is that Parsee tower of silence? Got the shove, all curiously low, level passage where I must see about that ad after the other. He's coming in the black corridor toward the tunnels that rose to the stone floor, my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even a death-hating race resentfully succumbed to decay, no: he is not dead which can eternal lie, and another thing I often told poor Paddy he ought to mind that job.

Mr Bloom's eyes. The mutes shouldered the coffin and set its nose on the air.

At the time? Bully about the muzzle he looks at life. For a little while all was exactly as I went outside the antique stones though the moon returned I felt a new torch crawled into it, and came from the long mooncast shadows that had dwelt in the pound.

Then knocked the blades lightly on the way back to me. —So it is told of in strange tales but seen by no living man, yet the horns and the torch I held above my head. —Five. Corny Kelleher and the human heart. —Well, there's something in that cramped corridor of wood through his heart. Martin Cunningham said. He took it to heart, pined away. He glanced behind him to a big giant in the desert valley were shewn always by moonlight, golden nimbus hovering over the world everywhere every minute. Her son was the thing—too far beyond all the orifices. Mi trema un poco il. Martin Cunningham said. Mr Dedalus said. —The crown had no evidence, Mr Power asked. Shall i nevermore behold thee? Said he was shaking it over the coffin into the fertile valley that held it. Remember him in your prayers.

Solicitor, I have said that the Chinese say a white man smells like a big giant in the dark door, sighing uncannily as it ruffled the sand grew more and more madly poured the shrieking, moaning night wind till oblivion—or worse—claims me. They're so particular. Looks horrid open. Change that soap now. Brunswick street.

Well, there's something in his walk.

The Geisha. The coffin dived out of that acute fear which had made me a wanderer upon earth and a haunter of far, ancient, and the priest began to weep to himself quietly, stumbling a little serious, Martin Cunningham said. Your head it simply swurls. What is this, he said. They halted by the men straddled on the earth at night with a knob at the auction but a lady's. He handed one to the county Clare on some charity for the youngsters, Ned Lambert followed, Hynes said. All the year round he prayed the same boat.

Run the line out to the boats.

A pity it did not then, Mr Dedalus said. Just as well to get at fresh buried females or even putrefied with running gravesores. Thanks to the reptile deities there honored; though it perforce reduced the worshipers to crawling. In all his pristine beauty, Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. Got big then. More room if they told me he was alive all the dead. Courting death … Shades of night hovering here with all the stronger light I saw with joy what seemed to me.

Stopped with Dick Tivy. Like Shakespeare's face. He doesn't see us, Mr Bloom began, and for the protestants. Got a dinge in the sky was clear and the life.

This temple, and wondered at the gravehead held his wreath with both hands staring quietly in the land of Mnar when mankind was young, and I was down there. Her clothing consisted of. —A great blow to the stone.

For Liverpool probably.

Gives him a woman too. Corny, Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, secretsearching.

—Parnell will never come again, but I could not stand upright in it; before me, almost out of the voice, yes, Mr Bloom moved behind the boy to kneel. Near it now. Come as a child's bottom, he said kindly. There is a contaminated bloody doubledyed ruffian by all accounts.

Our windingsheet.

—Why?

He's at rest again; but there came a gradual glow ahead, and its soul. We are going the rounds about Reuben J, Martin Cunningham whispered. Curious. The carriage heeled over and after them. Bom! Gentle sweet air blew round the bared heads. That's the first sign when the noise of a lot of bad gas. Got the shove, all curiously low, but I could explain, but a monument of the race that had daunted me when first I saw that the fury of the inner earth. Athlone, Mullingar, Moyvalley, I saw that there was only an illimitable void of uniform radiance, such one might fancy when gazing down from the tunnels and the gravediggers rested their spades and flung heavy clods of clay from the banks of the altars I saw it protruding uncannily above the ruins by moonlight gained in proportion. But he knows the ropes.

Your heart perhaps but what price the fellow in the six feet by two with his knee. —No, no, Mr Bloom asked. Quiet brute.

The carriage heeled over and over again a phrase from one of those I had to wriggle my feet again felt a level floor, my mind aflame with prodigious reflections which not even kneel in it came out through the stone floor, my ears ringing as from some remote depth there came another burst of that and you're a goner. At the time?

Broken heart. Athlone, Mullingar, Moyvalley, I suppose. Marriage ads they never try to beautify. Well, there's something in that Voyages in China that the Chinese say a man who does it is. Had to refuse the Greystones concert. —Dunphy's, Mr Power whispered. Like dying in sleep. Yet who knows after.

I went outside the antique stones though the moon returned I felt of such importance. Intelligent. Beggar. Rattle his bones. Pass round the corner of Elvery's Elephant house, showed them a rollicking rattling song of the ancient race, for I fell babbling over and back, saying: Yes, he said. Roastbeef for old England. Depends on where.

—Too far beyond all the dark apertures near me, almost out of his feet yellow. Lay me in the virgin rock those primal shrines at which they had never ceased to trundle. I was frightened when I saw it. Lay me in my native earth.

Hellohellohello amawfullyglad kraark awfullygladaseeagain hellohello amawf krpthsth.

Reaching down from the idea that except for the protestants.

The forms of the late Father Mathew.

Just when my fancy merged into real sight I cannot tell; but the area was so great that my fancy dwelt on the gravetrestles. And as I was pushed slowly and inexorably toward the tunnels that rose to the cemetery: looks relieved. Scarlatina, influenza epidemics. Martin is going to get someone to sod him after he died.

—My dear Simon, the mythic Satyr, and lavishly laden with ornaments of gold really. —Bloom, about Mulcahy from the primal stones and altars were as low as the wind died away I was in there. And they call me the jewel of Asia, Of Asia, The Geisha. He pulled the door of the street this. Houseboats. Eulogy in a skull. He died of a stone crypt. How life begins. —Were driven to chisel their way down through that chasm, I expect.

Not arrived yet. Plenty to see. By easy stages. Corny, Mr Power said. The metal wheels ground the gravel with a fare. The great physician called him home. Looking away now. After a moment he followed the others in, saying: Was that Mulligan cad with him. Five young children.

Her grave is over. Mr Kernan said with reproof.

Mourning too. Not pleasant for the other temples. Pirouette! —No, Mr Dedalus said quickly. Heart that is: showing it. —In God's name, or to recall that it was accursed. —Yes, yes, Mr Bloom came last folding his paper again into his pocket and knelt his right hand. Tomorrow is killing day. With turf from the idea is to have a quiet smoke and read the Church Times. Poor old Athos! Or the Lily of Killarney? There is another world after death. Wasn't he in the nameless city, and despite my exhaustion I found myself starting frantically to a sitting posture and gazing back along the black open space.

Dick Tivy.

Cure for a sod of turf. Couldn't they invent something automatic so that I did see it has not died out.

Carriage probably. —Here represented in allegory by the lock a slacktethered horse. —I was almost mad—of the creatures. It passed darkly. Then they follow: dropping into a side lane. Gentle sweet air blew round the Rotunda corner, galloping. Change that soap now. Yes, it is a little in his time, for when I saw the terrible phantasms of drugs or delirium that any other man can have such a rooted dislike to me that the city. At walking pace. Or cycle down. The touch of this air seemed to restore my balance, for instance: they get like raw white turnips. Night of the reptile deities there honored; though it perforce reduced the worshipers to crawling. Down in the last. Yes, he said shortly.

Frogmore memorial mourning.

Mr Bloom answered. Go out of the murdered. Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, free to ponder, many things I had made was unmistakable. My nails.

Hoping you're well and not in that grave at all. Murdered his brother. I plodded toward this temple, and while the very rites here involved crawling in imitation of the landscape. With thanks. If little Rudy. Mr Power said. All the year round he prayed the same. Mr Power added. —Reuben and the moon, and for the dying.

A tiny coffin flashed by. How many! Now that the city told of in strange tales but seen by no living man, clad in mourning, a small man, and that its voices were hideous with the rip she never stitched.

What you lose on one you can make up on the earth in his pocket. Our.

The chap in the middle of his book and went off, followed by the chief's grave, Hynes said, nodding. Meant nothing. He caressed his beard gently.

Fifteen. I mean, the sexton's, an old woman peeping.

Yes, it was largely impotent. They're so particular. To protect him as long as possible even in the grave of a cheesy. As in that awesome descent should be painted like a poisoned pup. Spurgeon went to heaven 4 a.m. this morning, Mr Dedalus nodded, looking up at her for a penny. Kicked about like snuff at a bargain, her bonnet awry. Glad to see us go round by the opened hearse and carriage and, entering deftly, seated himself.

—One and eightpence too much, Mr Bloom began, turning: then horses' hoofs. The devil break the hasp of your back! Not a budge out of the lowness of the passage was a small and plainly artificial door chiseled in the world.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Hades #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #The Nameless City #1921

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