#the Casablanca Declaration

[coochiequeens]

"Until recently, a meeting between them was unlikely. Their worlds are quite different: one is an outspoken atheist feminist from France, the other is a Reformed politician from the Netherlands." In other words it is possible for people who usually oppose each other on social issues to agree on something.

One an outspoken atheist feminist from France, the other a Reformed politician from the Netherlands. "We form an interesting but important coalition." Photo CNE.news

European Union

People hardly ask questions about surrogacy, notice the French activist Olivia Maurel and the Dutch Member of the European Parliament Bert-Jan Ruissen. "People have no idea what kind of market is behind this."

Until recently, a meeting between them was unlikely. Their worlds are quite different: one is an outspoken atheist feminist from France, the other is a Reformed politician from the Netherlands. Despite these differences, French activist Olivia Maurel and SGP MEP Bert-Jan Ruissen find common ground in their shared mission: a worldwide ban on surrogacy. "We form an interesting but important coalition", Ruissen says.

Maurel and Ruissen are examples of the flanks of this politically diverse coalition, which has grown significantly in recent years. In early April, they met at the Casablanca conference in Rome. There, politicians, legal experts, and medical professionals gathered to discuss a global ban on surrogacy.

During the conference, there was little opportunity for an in-depth conversation. At the request of the CNE.news, Maurel and Ruissen spoke again at the end of April via a video call about their objections to surrogacy. "We use a woman for her uterus and take a child away from the mother immediately after birth," says Maurel, who was born through surrogacy. "That's why Olivia's story is so important," Ruissen adds. "People need to know the consequences of this practice."

In surrogacy, a woman carries and gives birth to a child for another, whether or not for financial compensation. The commercial market for this is growing from 14 billion dollars in 2022 to an expected 129 billion dollars in 2032.

Personal

For Maurel, this debate is personal. She was born in 1991 to an American surrogate mother. The publication of her story on CNE.news in October last year brought her into contact with the organisation behind the Casablanca Declaration. With this Declaration, politicians, jurists and other experts call on countries to ban surrogacy within their territories.

Shortly after they connected, Maurel became the spokesperson for the Casablanca Declaration. She shared her life story in various parliaments and had a private audience with the Pope. "I told him I am an atheist but that we need to work together on this issue," says Maurel. "He is very kind; he understood me and was very open to my story."

Politicians she addressed also showed understanding, says Maurel. Yet, she also sees some naivety. "Not everyone realises how much this market has been commercialised. It sounds nice: a woman helping another couple fulfil their desire for children. But people have no idea what kind of world is behind this."

MEP Ruissen signed the Casablanca Declaration in April. He shares Maurel's observation. "With surrogacy, you cross an ethical border when you intentionally do not let a child grow up with its mother. In this debate, the desires of adults seem to be more important than the child's interests."

Maurel and Ruissen largely agree with each other's arguments despite their different backgrounds. Both focus on the child in their objections to surrogacy. "We must prioritise the child in this discussion," says Ruissen. "With surrogacy, we prioritise the child in a contract," adds Maurel. "We ignore children's rights for the desires of adults."

Momentum

In European politics, surrogacy is on the political agenda, Ruissen says. Last week, the European Parliament adopted a directive banning the exploitation of surrogate mothers. Maurel was present at the vote. “While this is not a condemnation of the practice as such, it is quite an achievement”, she says. “It is a step into the right direction, Ruissen adds. "We have momentum, and we must use it." A group of French parliamentarians did just that on Tuesday when they proposed enshrining the ban on surrogacy in the French constitution.

A politically diverse coalition around a particular issue is not new. In discussions about gender, feminists and conservatives also find common ground. But Ruissen and Maurel see around the topic of surrogacy not only shared ambition but also results. "In the European Parliament, you see people from the extreme left to the extreme right coming together on this issue," says Maurel. "That's why we also try to work with various parties outside our political bubble," Ruissen responds. "It is so important that we work together when it comes to human dignity." That is what it is all about, says Maurel. "It's about more than just surrogacy. Sometimes, we seem to forget, but human dignity is at stake."

Money

"If we as a society start buying and selling children, we are heading in the wrong direction," says Maurel. Photo CNE.news

Maurel knows the consequences of surrogacy like no other: she inherited her mental health issues from her surrogate mother, who is also her biological mother. Additionally, she struggled with the fact that her parents had paid for her; knowing this made talking about it difficult. "It felt like: Olivia, suppress your feelings; they may have spent more than $150,000 to get you," she said earlier to CNE.news.

Still, she stepped forward to share her story. "Our society is heading in the wrong direction and no longer protects the most vulnerable: women and children. I don't want my children to live in such a world," explains the mother of three. However, she pays a price for her openness: "My speech in the Czech Parliament ended the relationship between me and my parents."

Despite these struggles, Maurel has no negative feelings towards her parents. "They just used the means available to them without being aware of the consequences." Maurel also sees that her story does not apply to every child. "I am sure that there are also beautiful surrogacy stories. But such successes do not make the practice more ethical."

Since Maurel began seeking publicity with her story, she has come into contact with other children of surrogate mothers. They often dare not speak out, the activist observes. "Some are still dependent on their parents, and others do not want to be abandoned again. They struggle with a conflict of loyalty."

Contract

Both Maurel and Ruissen focus their arguments on commercial surrogacy. Altruistic surrogacy, in which women carry a child without any financial reward, accounts for a small percentage, about 2 per cent. However, both Maurel and Ruissen oppose this as well. "Even with altruistic surrogacy, you still need a contract," says Maurel. "And you still separate children from their mothers”, Ruissen adds. “That is an ethical boundary we should not cross."

For most people, surrogacy is a distant issue, Maurel acknowledges. However, she believes this does not diminish the importance of discussing it. "Not everyone struggles with reduced fertility or has the money to do this. But if we as a society start buying and selling children, we are heading in the wrong direction. That's why we need to have this debate."

[gatabella]

"Several months ago eye-filling Italian actress Silvana Pampanini aroused Humphrey Bogart’s ire, when, in a magazine article she declared that Bogart, Gary Cooper and Clark Gable were too old to be convincing lovers. Now Bogart, defender of the rights of man, was not one to stand idly by and let this crushing statement pass unichallenged. When they met at lunch in Rome, Bogey arrived with ammunition tucked away under his arm—a huge photograph of his wife, sexy Lauren Bacall, whom he calls Betty, and their two handsome young children. “Signorina Pampanini,” he began, “this is the kind of work I do, and I’m fifty-four. What do you think of it?” All that his bosomy companion could murmur at this point was a soft, “Che bello—how beautiful.” Bogey ended the argument decisively with, “The next time you pick on a man, make sure you know what you're doing. Better still —what he’s doing.” “You may not believe this,” says Bogey, “but the first thing I notice about a woman is her face. If the face interests me I'll give the rest of her the once over. Take Ingrid Bergman for example. I worked with her all through Casablanca before I realized she had a wonderful figure to go with that fascinating face. There’s a woman! And besides, there’s too much emphasis on bosoms today. With all the fuss caused by the Monroes, the Russells and the Lollobrigidas, you’d think that bosoms were just invented yesterday. It takes more than a well-stacked front balcony and a prominent back porch to make an actress. Somewhere in between there’s got to be just a hint of talent.”

-Screenland, July 1954

[noirgasmweetheart]

Hotel Berlin (1945)

This might be the most underrated War Era movie I've seen yet.

Both the theatrical trailer and the DVD cover advertise it as a corny exploitation movie. It's nothing of the sort. It's as sincerely written and acted as "Casablanca," with far more direct references to the Jewish people, and specific concentration camps.

I legitimately ordered the DVD just to see Peter Lorre as a disheveled angst-ridden scruff-muffin; I had no idea the character was going to be so compelling, or the rest of the movie equally so. Several other characters also exploded beyond the old clichés I was expecting. The movie appears to be building towards a predictable, cheesy love story, but...doesn't. Another character who at first appears one of the most despicable opportunists in the movie...isn't. And the movie's nuanced look at an indoctrinated population being carpet-bombed while their tyrannical, antisemetic leaders flee to save their own skins is uh...timely, to say the least.

I'm sure it helped that I watched this movie during a rainstorm at night, which is the way to watch it. The timeliness of a story about

Spoilers Below!

Faye Emerson deserved that top billing.

According to IMDB, Andrea King was originally to be billed as the film's female lead, with Faye Emerson billed as a supporting character. When Emerson married the son of President Roosevelt, she was given top billing over King, to capitalize on her new fame. I find that ironic, given that by the end of the movie, Faye's character Tilly has, against all odds, proven to be the film's true heroine.

Introduced as a materialistic Nazi informer, dating SS officers and betraying a hiding resistance fighter just to get herself some new shoes, Tilly's reality turns upside-down when she learns that the lover she thought she'd lost is still alive. After an emotional breakdown over what her despair let her become, she defends her boyfriend's mother against a Nazi officer, and delivers the most powerful speech in the movie. It is her character who finally mentions the Jews out loud, after an entire movie and an entire genre dancing around the subject.

I've recorded the scene from the DVD and uploaded it to YouTube:

"Go on shoot me, arrest me, have me killed, I don't care! Why should I. I loved Max Baruch and you sent him to a concentration camp! You hung a sign around my neck saying I loved a Jew! And you paraded me down the street. They'll hang something around your neck someday, and it won't be a sign!"

Corny Romance is Just a Red Herring

My stance that Emersen deserved that top billing in no way negates Andrea King's marvelous performance as the film's faux female lead. Though we are warned right from the start that her character, movie star Lisa Dorn, is a Nazi and a master manipulator, the film plays her as the straightforward love interest for much of the film: helping the hero partially out of the hope that he'll save her in return, seemingly building a genuine admiration for his heroism...then completely subverts expectations by revealing her to be exactly what she she was introduced as: a Nazi collaborator out to save her own skin.

I was genuinely afraid at the end that the hero would find himself unable to shoot her, and we'd see her tearfully declare her love for him, and end with him forgiving her. Not so. She argues pathetically, trying to excuse her betrayal and convince Richter that she loves him, and he doesn't fall for it. Richter sees Sam Spade's "I'll be waiting for you," and raises him two gunshots.

Peter Lorre like we've never seen him before

Okay, maybe we have seen Peter angsting around and wobbling drunkenly a few times before. But this was the first time I saw him directly address the issues that so closely affected him (and his costars of course) in real life.

Peter Lorre died before talk about the Holocaust really became mainstream. But the emotion behind the lines he delivers as the self-hating German professor speaks volumes. The gleeful smile he wears in his first scene, while saying that the bombing is only what the Germans deserve; his bitter sarcasm about the achievements of German science in the concentration camps, and wondering where all the "good Germans" are now; his breakdown when Richter tells him of a mutual friend's murder at Dachau. Much like his frantic escape attempt in "Casablanca," Peter likely didn't have to fish too hard to dig up the needed emotions for these scenes.

This is also the closest I've ever come to seeing Peter cry.

Other PL fans have lamented that his role was too small. I agree that I'd have loved to see a hell of a lot more of Koenig, but it's not like many of the other characters had much more screen time, which all the different storylines running at once. Aside from maybe Helmut Dantine and Andrea King, most of the important characters probably only have a handful of scenes tops.

Edit: That said, knowing he had scenes indicating how he joined the resistance that were cut is very frustrating.

But the fact that Peter's character not only lives to the end as one of the heroes, but gets to read President Roosevelt's uplifting speech to the German people, definitely counts for something.

That speech packed a powerful punch for me, at a time when I sometimes need reminding that indoctrinated civilians in war zones are still individuals, and can't be lumped with their dogmatic leaders. I don't doubt for a minute that President Biden took inspiration from Roosevelt for how to address the Palestinian people in regards to stopping Hamas.

The Fugitive

I suppose I should also mention the film's lead: Helmut Dantine as Martin Richter, the German anti-Nazi resistance fighter who escaped Dachau Concentration Camp. Helmut Dantine played Jan, the Bulgarian husband in "Casablanca." The controlled desperation with which he gambled at Rick's roulette wheel as Jan serves well for his fugitive resistance fighter in this movie. The fact that Dantine was actually imprisoned at Rosserlaende Concentration Camp for his anti-Nazi political activism at age 19 no doubt also helped him in the role.

My only complaint is the makeup and costuming department failing to help him look the part. While Paul Henreid got a scar and a white streak of hair for Victor Laszlo, Dantine is done up to look like a particularly slick, clean movie star, standing out in a cast of disheveled and weary looking people. One could interpret this as a symbolic way of singling him out as the hero, but I found it distracting. I am not throwing shade on Dantine's acting abilities or natural looks, just how the people in charge had him presented.

I'm unsure how to close this review.

It's getting late and I have some more clips to upload, and cake to eat. "Hotel Berlin" is up there with "Casablanca" on my personal list of unironically great old movies. Professor Koenig is on my list favorite Peter Lorre characters, and I have a handful of new favorite actors.

I'll just finish by saying that this guy in the barrette looks noticeably like Robert Picardo, if maybe a "stretched out" version thereof. Voyager's EMH hanging out with a holo-Peter Lorre in one of Tom Paris's noir programs is something I never knew I needed.

[drsilverfish]

1x07 Reflections - Dean Picks “As Time Goes By” and “Can’t Find My Way Home”

To reflect is both to mirror and to meditate/ think upon. 

Dean, Dean, Dean... this story continues to be filled with reflections in Holy Ghost Narrator Dean’s mind, about matters of his own heart.

Honestly, when read on this level, The Winchesters is the most bittersweet of meditations.

Firstly, the characters keep saying all the emotionally meaningful stuff to each other which Dean himself needed to hear or to say:

Notice how we can read this as a reflection for Dean’s relationship with his own father (remember when he knew Azazel was possessing John, because the demon told him it was proud of him in in 1x22 Devil’s Trap, whereas his Dad would have “torn him a new one”), AND we can read it as a reflection of the moment Dean lost Castiel for the last time. Henry, like Cas in 15x18, is saying “I love you” here, as he fades out, back to another dimension. AND we can read it as a reflection of Dean telling Sam he loved him and was proud of him, whilst he lay dying on the rebar in the barn in 15x20. Henry speaks both to a lover (Millie) and to a son (John) allowing all these subtextual reflections (Dean-John, Dean-Cas, Dean-Sam). 

The music Dean picks this week is all about love and longing.

Can’t Find My Way Home can be read as Dean’s reflections on his soul leaving his own body in death, with the lyrics singing to his beloved, Castiel, about how much he wants to find his way back to him, but he can’t find him (because he’s lost in The Empty): 

Can’t Find My Way Home

Come down off your throne and leave your body alone Somebody must change You are the reason I've been waiting so long Somebody holds the key [Chorus] But I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home [Verse 2] Come down on your own and leave your body alone Somebody must change You are the reason I've been waiting all these years Somebody holds the key

But I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home [Outro] But I can't find my way home

We could read a Dean-longing-for-Sam reflection here too, although all the other reflections in the SPNWin 1x07 narrative point to Cas (John and Mary’s situation locked in the room with no way out, as the Akrida bear down on them, prompting John to declare his feelings with a kiss, being a strong reflection for Dean and Cas locked in the bunker with no way out, and Billie bearing down on them in 15x18 Despair, prompting Cas to declare his feelings). 

As Time Goes By, Millie and Henry’s love song, is a classic made famous because of its role in the wartime star-crossed lovers story Casablanca (1942) 

And Millie and Henry’s back-story, wherein we learn this week they fought a lot, because Henry was always leaving (and keeping Millie in the dark about his MoL work) because he was trying to protect her and young John, has echoes of the many times Cas left Dean (often to protect him, e.g. in Purgatory) when all Dean wanted was for him to stay. 

And John was so angry he broke the musical box which played the love song. Sad echoes here, of the Dean/ Cas break-up.

“You must remember this A kiss is just a kiss A sigh is just a sigh The fundamental things apply As time goes byAnd when two lovers woo They still say "I love you" On that you can rely No matter what the future brings As time goes by”   

Holy Ghost Narrator Dean sure is dreaming of a kiss:

[terrence-silver]

Could you write literally anything you want about John Kreese and his beloved, there just is not enough John writes in the world and I know you’re the best person to do it

---

John has had funerals before.

Few people could say they've died multiple times.

Yes, one could technically say he was declared KIA in 'Nam, or at least, that a part of him was --- maybe his boyish weakness, his hopes, dreams, even though he wasn't fan of sappy sentiments of the kind. Another occasion, when he and Terry pretended he died to trick the Larusso primaballerina into letting down his guard for shits-and-giggles while, in truth, John was on Tahiti time sunbathing his ass the whole time. Those were the good old days --- the recollection alone made him chuckle even decades down the line. He could even say he died in the thirty something years he was away after the tournament loss of '85, his second championship flop, season back to back, having him retreat and lay low, breaking contact with everyone and everything --- with society at large --- even Terry himself who he was certain kept an eye on him regardless, licking his wounds and recuperating because John simply didn't believe the world had much use for him if he wasn't winning something. Not now and not ever. He didn't wanna be in a world where he was losing everything, his life unraveling by the seams and him being forced to watch, unable to stop it, so he'd rather not participate at all.

And he didn't.

In the thirty years of his absence he still had enough leftover cash to buy himself a funeral plot and erect an actual grave once the years started creeping in on him. If third time wasn't the charm, the fourth one would be. Eventually, he would have no use to pretend anymore because everyone eventually dies if they wait that crap out long enough. Cpt. John Kreese, the simple concrete plaque said as per his request. No bullshit. No fancy epitaphs. None of that nonsense. He wasn't out here to convince anyone he was something he was not. Just his military rank, name, surname, date of birth to be joined by a date of death. Never wanted to rest beside Betsy down in Pasadena. Didn't figure he deserved to. Didn't figure it was right anymore. Not now that he had you. You had the mutually solemn tendency to come out here with him and visit the still empty grave site. Set down the occasional flower and just watch, like you were mourning an actual person buried down there with him and then, you'd leave, in tow. He wanted to bury the idea of second chances down there too eons ago, it seemed; cover it with a thick, coated layer of muddy soil and call it a day, but here you were, springing free from the casket he intended to put the thought of a second love into and you unexpectedly sprung free, strolling the pavements of the empty cemetery sidewalk with him. Ironic how it quelled John's desire to die at all.

Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he already died all the sufficient times he needed to.

Maybe a man can fill a certain quota.

-"You alright, John?"- You ask, catching him deep in his thoughts, interlocking his arms with yours as you quietly waddled forward, under the sun. You knew his life story. You knew why he erected this grave for himself. You didn't bullshit him and he didn't bullshit you. He rather enjoyed that. But, no, he didn't think he'd let himself go to waste just yet. -"Yeah."- He trails off, nodding and smiling, sliding on his shades. Perhaps a part of him didn't want you read in his eyes just how content he was. -"Yeah, I am."- He raises his eyes to look up at you, eyes concealed with a veneer of black. -"I think we should go get some drinks, doll. Treats on me, of course."- What a line, Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca be damned, he concludes, self-congratulatory, imagining himself in black and white. From a graveyard to hitting the bar with a beaut. He feels twenty fuck five next to you again, and he figures, he's had his funerals before. Few people could say they've died multiple times, sure.

Just as well, few people could say they loved multiple times too.

John Kreese was certainly the exception to every rule ever made.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 7.12 (after 1920)

1920 – The Soviet–Lithuanian Peace Treaty is signed, by which Soviet Russia recognizes the independence of Lithuania. 1943 – World War II: Battle of Kursk: German and Soviet forces engage in the Battle of Prokhorovka, one of the largest armored engagements of all time. 1948 – Israeli Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion orders the expulsion of Palestinians from the towns of Lod and Ramla. 1960 – Orlyonok, the main Young Pioneer camp of the Russian SFSR, is founded. 1961 – Indian city Pune floods due to failure of the Khadakwasla and Panshet dams, killing at least two thousand people. 1961 – ČSA Flight 511 crashes at Casablanca–Anfa Airport in Morocco, killing 72. 1963 – Pauline Reade, 16, disappears in Gorton, England, the first victim in the Moors murders. 1967 – Riots begin in Newark, New Jersey. 1971 – The Australian Aboriginal Flag is flown for the first time. 1973 – A fire destroys the entire sixth floor of the National Personnel Records Center of the United States. 1975 – São Tomé and Príncipe declare independence from Portugal. 1979 – The island nation of Kiribati becomes independent from the United Kingdom. 1995 – Chinese seismologists successfully predict the 1995 Myanmar–China earthquake, reducing the number of casualties to 11. 1998 – The Ulster Volunteer Force attacked a house in Ballymoney, County Antrim, Northern Ireland with a petrol bomb, killing the Quinn brothers. 2001 – Space Shuttle program: Space Shuttle Atlantis is launched on mission STS-104, carrying the Quest Joint Airlock to the International Space Station. 2006 – The 2006 Lebanon War begins. 2007 – U.S. Army Apache helicopters engage in airstrikes against armed insurgents in Baghdad, Iraq, where civilians are killed; footage from the cockpit is later leaked to the Internet. 2012 – Syrian Civil War: Government forces target the homes of rebels and activists in Tremseh and kill anywhere between 68 and 150 people. 2012 – A tank truck explosion kills more than 100 people in Okobie, Nigeria. 2013 – Six people are killed and 200 injured in a French passenger train derailment in Brétigny-sur-Orge.

[mariacallous]

Stop a person on the street in Sarajevo and ask them what they think about the war in Ukraine, and they’ll tell you they think that almost everything that happened in the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina is happening in Ukraine.

In April, we commemorated the 30th anniversary of the war against Bosnia-Herzegovina. We consider early April 1992 the moment a new era began: we have the before, during and after the catastrophe.

A month into the war in Ukraine I saw Ukrainians starting to use the phrase “before the war”. We went through everything that’s happening to them, but no one asks us about it or wants us to help.

War leads you to start looking at life and death with different eyes. Before our “smallish war” (an ironic phrase I use in literary works), I wanted to be a poet and wrote ultra-metaphorical and incomprehensible poems. After the war, I was determined to write as clearly and precisely as possible, especially about the events of the war. That is when I became a writer. The war was a giant catalyst in that process.

In a recent article for the Paris Review, Ilya Kaminsky quoted the Ukrainian poet Daryna Gladun on how events in Ukraine had changed her writing: “I set aside metaphors to speak about the war in clear words,” she said, “so that readers around the world will be struck by the cynicism, cruelty, and inevitability of the war that Russia brought to Ukraine.” A number of Sarajevo poets found the same thing happen during the siege of this city – the longest in the history of modern warfare. The famous Slovenian poet Tomaž Šalamun once said that he stopped writing poetry entirely during the war in Bosnia.

On 21 April 1992, the attack began on my home town in far western Bosnia. I was studying in Zagreb at the time but returned to Bosanska Krupa because I knew the war would soon begin; regular and irregular Serb formations had begun attacking towns in eastern Bosnia in early April.

You could see towns burning along the river Drina, the natural border between Bosnia-Herzegovina and Serbia, even though the country was still called the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. But not even the letter Y remained of Yugoslavia because Slovenia, Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina declared independence and seceded from it.

I was drinking beer and listening to music on the terrace of the Casablanca cafe in Bosanska Krupa when the attack came. I remember I was wearing Levi’s, a down jacket and Adidas trainers. It was a lovely day, but shortly after 6pm an artillery attack began. That’s when I realised what the expression “in mortal terror” means. Militants of the Serb Democratic party, aided by forces of the former Yugoslav People’s Army, shelled the city from the surrounding hills.

I neither volunteered nor was I conscripted. We were surrounded by enemy forces and there was no way out of the area (later called the Bihać pocket or Bihać district) unless you could fly. I took up arms because I was driven out of my flat, my street and my neighbourhood. My conscience demanded that I fight.

For 44 months I fought as a soldier and later as an officer leading a unit of 130 men in difficult combat operations at the very end of the war. Once I was badly wounded in the left foot and needed crutches to walk for six months. The pain was more or less bearable because I was young and my body had the strength of steel. We didn’t have time then to think about the transcorporeality of pain, nor about infatuation with our own.

I remember having to go to the toilet in a special wheelchair, which had a hole in the seat. But I recovered quickly, I returned to the unit and to the same duties I had before the injury, as a platoon commander of 30 men.

Chronological time stops ticking during war. We wore watches on our wrists but they showed a meaningless time. We were cut off from the rest of our country and the civilised world. We were five hours’ drive from Vienna, at least before the war. Now we lived as if we were at the end of the world, so time was irrelevant. A new time was ticking inside us – the one you count from the moment your idyllic, civic life collapses and you become a refugee. After the first moments of shock, we were quick to embrace the apocalyptic way of life.

The experience of war is not something you want. No sane person wants it. It’s a return to the stone age and the time of commodity-money exchange. In the war, you could sell a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste or a pocketknife and then get tanked up with the money. We did that once: we went to a town far behind the lines, drank beer and listened to Whitney Houston singing I Will Always Love You on MTV. It’s not as if we were Whitney Houston fans. We preferred grunge, and before that we listened to new wave, but no one asked us about our musical or any other identity.

We didn’t even know that the Serb nationalists saw us as the Others, to be expelled from “Serbian lands”, killed, raped and imprisoned in concentration camps. In the summer of 1992, when the Serb army and police occupied the town of Prijedor, all non-Serbs had to wear white armbands and hang white sheets out the windows of their houses and flats. The genocide began there, and it ended with the court-proven genocide in Srebrenica in July 1995. The phrase “never again” was repeated in the Prijedor concentration camps in the summer of 1992 and is now being repeated in Ukraine.

Although I and my family, comrades-in-arms and fellow citizens went through the worst possible suffering (as refugees, soldiers and civilians), I’ve never allowed myself to hate an entire people. I’ve only hated ultranationalists and war criminals, not other Serbian people.

We had to fight for our sheer survival. And when you fight like that, you can never be defeated because no idea is stronger than the idea of your own life. Right now, Ukrainians are fighting a life-or-death struggle. Having nothing to lose but your own life is when you’re strongest.

In the autumn of 1995, we finally managed to retake our town. It was in ruins, but we rebuilt it. Years after the war, you realise that life will never be the same as it was before. Once you lose that Arcadian life it can never be renewed.

All this is not what concerns the people of Ukraine at the moment. They hope the war will end as soon as possible, but war has a logic of its own that is nothing like human logic. The aggression against Ukraine has all the characteristics of a long war of attrition.

The day the war in Ukraine began, I wrote on Twitter that the Russians would commit war crimes, even though they hadn’t yet occurred. It was clear to anyone who watched and listened to Vladimir Putin that war and atrocities would soon follow. He referred to Ukraine as a fake state and the Ukrainians as a fake people.

Slobodan Milošević and Radovan Karadžić said the same things about Bosnia-Herzegovina and Bosniaks – that they were fake and didn’t deserve to exist. Those words were later turned into the worst crimes in Europe since the second world war. I hope the crimes of the Russian army will not surpass those committed in my country.

We will discover the full extent of atrocities and crimes of the Russian invasion of Ukraine when the war is over. The most important thing is for the Russian war machine in Ukraine to be broken and brought to a halt. The dictator understands only the language of force, while the politics ofappeasement bolster his power. People in the EU will have to leave their comfort zone because that is the sacrifice required of them while Ukrainians are fighting and dying to maintain peace and prosperity in the EU. If Ukraine is defeated, we will never again live in the peace that currently prevails.

The cities of Ukraine will be rebuilt from the ashes. The whole country can rise again. What cannot be brought back are the dead. These wounds never heal, but you can live with them, and you have to. The trauma of loss marks you and never leaves you. But I believe in the grit and courage of the Ukrainian soldiers and citizens, just as I believed in us. I believe in the victory of life over death.

Faruk Šehić is a Bosnian poet, short story writer and novelist This essay is part of a series, published in collaboration with Voxeurop, featuring perspectives on the invasion of Ukraine from the former Soviet bloc and bordering countries. Translation by Will Firth

[lilhappytweety]

i can’t stop thinking about Paris

and I just can’t help but think that this is such an important moment in midnights, but it gets so overlooked because it seems ✨unserious✨ in comparison to other tracks, specially the 3am tracks.

so what makes Paris so special to me?

it’s one of the few glitter-gel pen songs in midnights (along with bejewelled, karma, and maybe question..?)

this is a genre of taylor’s pen that is criminally underrated.

according to taylor a ggps is a song of hers that is “frivolous, carefree, bouncy, syncopated perfectly to the beat”, and very importantly, this kind of song “doesn’t care if you don’t take them seriously because they don’t take themselves seriously”

well i completely disagree.

i think that ggps take themselves so damn seriously, they are (dare i say) strategic statements that went all or nothing to prove a point.

in this picture are some of the songs taylor deemed as ggps, and can you look me in the eyes and tell me taylor wasn’t serious as fuck when she said she loves a london boy? or that she did not have a very specific objective in mind when releasing wanegbt?

no you can’t, because even though they are not all ✨so serious✨ they are very important declarations of vulnerability of taylor.

—i think regardless of the execution of the specific purpose of each ggps, taylor is, and have always been, serious as fuck about the importance of getting her personal statements to the masses or her fans (ex. yntcd, blank space, shake it off, me!, the man)

continuing on what paris means to me.

second, in the great scheme of midnights, this album is a compilation of (allegedly) sleepless nights where tay explores themes of insecurity, self-criticism, wishful thinking, confidence, and self-love, all while being really self-aware. taylor is a really emotional intelligent girlie and it shows in her pen.

so, paris.

this song is one of the highest points, sonically, in the album, specially in the 3am tracks and it’s basically a love song where the narrator is so in love that they feel in a ✨whole new world✨

in this case paris is both referred as a place and as a metaphor for feeling in love.

as we all know paris aka the city of love is commonly referred in pop culture as this more culturally superior place where love is every streetlight, and where artists of all kinds specially poets come to fall in love and just be present regardless of how harsh the reality might be.

—there are so many great love stories and movies set in paris. see midnight in paris, amelie, moulin rouge, american in paris, before sunset, Paris i love you. ALSO one of the greatest romantic lines in cinema is “we’ll always have Paris” from Casablanca.

and paris builds from that idea: being so in love that you could die and it would be fine because you feel alive; and also being so taken by the view because when you are in love (in paris, metaforically) everything’s more beautiful, richer, precious.

and also nothing is more important than that love you are being able to experience, so it’s so damn easy to detach from everything else. suddenly the wold becomes frivolous, and honestly uninteresting in comparison to your beloved.

what makes paris so important in the context of taylor’s introspective arc of midnights is that is the rumination of both a feeling and a memory.

so let’s dissect the “feeling” part

taylor is/was so focused on that romance that the world that once hurt her became uninteresting and dangerous for the survival of her love, that idea and experience is so well-put in verse 2

“romance is not dead if you keep it just yours” mirrors and continues from that line from king of my heart that says “your love is a secret i’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep”.

and then the heart of the song is in the bridge with one of the most quintessential taylor swift lyrics “i wanna brainwash you into loving me forever” but it is incomplete without the second idea “i wanna transport you somewhere the culture’s clever” (to the city of love with me)

and to me this is tay saying “i want you to be as obsessed with me and this love as i am, fall in love with me and let this love be our light/truth”.

this is evident when she is referring to those swooping, sloping cursive letters that are reminiscent of the lover font, album that is connected to this song (as it sounds like it belongs there, and it also references that period -and relationship- of Taylor’s life)

and then the memory part of remembering that she actually was in Paris with the person she once loved

—cut to that time in 2019 where there’s actual evidence that taylor and her past lover were seen in paris.

the thesis of the song and the most heart-wrenching part, at least in my opinion is in the outro when the background music dissipates like and old memory

by remembering how she felt she went back to paris (that moment in time when she was so deep in love) and now she is coming back to reality

“yes, we we’re somewhere else” the last line of the song sounds kinda haunting and it makes me wonder from where the narrator (not necessarily taylor) is speaking from, both sentimentally and physically

it’s the kind of melancholy that is so beautifully portrayed on the famous line “we’ll always have Paris” from Casablanca: regardless of everything else that happens, we shall always have that moment in love and in time where nothing mattered and nothing can take that away from us, for better and for worse.

if you read this far i really wanna thank you ❤️

also i didn’t really wanted to mention joe and his relationship with taylor so yeah, thanks

[crowdvscritic]

crowd vs. critic single take // MRS. MINIVER (1942)

Photo credits: IMDb.com

Mrs. Miniver takes place in two eras: the time before September 3, 1939 and the time after.

Before Great Britain declares war on Germany, Mr. Clem (Walter Pidgeon) and Mrs. Kay (Greer Garson) Miniver’s biggest concerns are about money. Specifically, they spend their energy convincing each other—and their upper crust neighbor Lady Beldon (Dame Mae Whitty)—their spending on little luxuries like hats and cars is worthy of their family’s middle class income. Though Lady Beldon does not care for blurring social lines, her granddaughter Carol (Teresa Wright) is more open-minded, catching the eye of the collegiate Vin Miniver (Richard Ney). But everything changes on September 3rd. Vin enlists, Clem volunteers, and Kay makes a bomb shelter comfortable for their young children. For the Minivers, World War II is not just on the battlefield on the continent—it’s here at home.

CROWD // And the Academy’s love affair with World War II begins! Mrs. Miniver is the first of 11 Best Picture winners set during or immediately after the war, which means more than 10% of the Academy’s top prizes have been dedicated to defeating the Nazis. Even among those titles, though, Mrs. Miniver is singular. Casablanca, From Here to Eternity, The Bridge on River Kwai, Patton, and The English Patient follow soldiers and resistance fighters; The Sound of Music, Schindler’s List, and The King’s Speech recount true stories of extraordinary individuals living through the conflict; and The Best Years of Our Lives and An American in Paris depict the struggle to rebuild the world afterward.

Unlike those epics, we only see the Minivers on the homefront. Vin joins the Royal Air Force, but like his mother, we only wonder what he sees from the cockpit. Clem supports the efforts at Dunkirk, but Christopher Nolan still felt the need to depict that rescue of troops in his own film because we never see Clem beyond the horizon of Britain’s shores. Yes, the episodic Miniver lacks the jet-fueled forward propulsion of Nolan’s film, but that wouldn’t be honest with the civilian experience. The family’s skirmishes with danger are few and unpredictable, and in some ways, that makes them more upsetting. When tragedy does strike, it hits a family we’ve laughed and rejoiced with around the dinner table, making this melodrama still moving today.

POPCORN POTENTIAL: 8/10

CRITIC // If there’s any criticism to be leveled at Mrs. Miniver, it’s that its affection for the titular family is blind. Character flaws? Complex motives? Who needs them when you’re trying to create a rousing morale-booster justifying a global conflict still in the court of public opinion? The Minivers and their neighbors are symbolic avatars more than well-rounded individuals, which is just one reason Winston Churchill called this film “propaganda worth a hundred battleships.” In fact, the last scene was literally re-distributed as print and radio propaganda!

Still, given that this particular fight against fascism is one with fewer moral gray areas, romanticizing these people fighting out of uniform has aged better than, say, a film about the Russian Revolution. In the history of cinema, a majority of war films focus on combat and political leaders, while Mrs. Miniver reminds us the people at home—including but not limited to the oft-disenfranchised women, children, elderly, and working classes—can be just as cudgeled by war without enlisting. They may avoid the trenches, but their food, shelter, life, and limb are just as uncertain, not to mention the future of their loved ones serving in the military. With that in mind, who’s to complain about making these hometown heroes so likable? 

It’s also difficult to fault Mrs. Miniver for idolizing its subjects when its cast and its craft are working in tandem with its vision. William Wyler, who still holds the record for the most Best Director nominations at 12, assembled a cast as winning as the parts they were playing, none more than the Garson’s Mrs. Miniver herself. Her hopeful but clear-eyed face of determination creates a center of gravity for the rest of the actors, and the compassion driving her never becomes too syrupy. 

ARTISTIC TASTE: 9/10

[coochiequeens]

Speakers and hosts agreed that instead of regulating the practice of surrogacy, which would only create demand, efforts should be made to highlight that surrogacy means, in essence, the commodification of children who become objects of surrogacy agreements, which is a deep violation of their human dignity.“

The European Christian Political Movement together with the offices of Members of the European parliament Bert Jan Ruissen (ECR) and Miriam Lexmann (EPP) organized on 23 May a conference on parenthood policies in the European Union, with a focus on the issue of surrogacy.

The two keynote speakers invited to provide expertise on the matter were Adina Portaru, Senior Counsel for the faith-based legal advocacy organization ADF International and Olivia Sarton, the scientific director of the French children’s rights organization Juristes Pour l’Enfance (Lawyers for Childhood).

The conference came as a response to the European Commission’s recent proposal for a EU-certificate of parenthood which is currently being debated in the European Parliament. This initiative would put pressure on member state governments to sanction surrogacy even though a country may not allow the practice.

It also comes as a contradiction to what the Commission has repeatedly said on various occasions: that the European institutions do not have competenceover issues like family, marriage, parenting, etc.

The hosts suggested that surrogacy fuels abuse, human trafficking, violating the rights of vulnerable women and children, in essence violating human dignity. The practice commodifies both children and women’s wombs, which is unacceptabl, they said.

Olivia Sarton underlined that surrogacy is a new form of exploitation that takes advantage of the bodies of women and appropriates the children they bear. She added that the conditions under which many women consent to the practice (state of need and psychological fragility) cast doubt on whether they freely gave their consent. She also made reference to the Casablanca Declaration, which calls for the universal abolition of surrogacy.

According to Portaru, the above-mentioned proposal of the European Commission puts into practice a very specific objective that the EU has pursued and promoted in the past years, captured in the slogan: “If you are parent in one country, you are parent in every country”. For her, this means that “if one EU country recognizes, for example, a US judgment which recognizes parenthood emanating from a surrogate agreement, that relationship or birth certificate will have to be recognized throughout the EU. Therefore, de facto, all kinds of surrogacy will be allowed and justified through the proposed regulation”.

Speakers and hosts agreed that instead of regulating the practice of surrogacy, which would only create demand, efforts should be made to highlight that surrogacy means, in essence, the commodification of children who become objects of surrogacy agreements, which is a deep violation of their human dignity.

[eretzyisrael]

The Moroccan cemetery fighting oblivion

Because of a tradition that held only descendants of a deceased family member could locate their grave, it was a miracle that the tombs of three distinguished rabbis in the Tetuan Jewish cemetery were discovered after a 60-year search. Jacob Marrache and his cousin are running a campaign to restore the cemetery, he tells JNS reporter Georgia Gilholy in this profile of the near-extinct community in  the former Spanish protectorate on the north Moroccan coast. (With thanks: Imre)

The Tetuan Jewish cemetery (photo: Alberto Hayon)

Marrache and his distant cousin, Andrew Strum, an Australian judge, have raised more than $3,000 of a target of nearly $11,000 to restore Tétouan’s Jewish cemetery, whose name, Cementerio de Castilla, recognizes the fact that Jews were first buried there after being expelled from the Iberian kingdom in 1492.

“My family left Morocco for Gibraltar in 1758, but like many Jewish families, we kept close contact with Tétouan for many generations, as different communities would look to one another for halachicguidance,” Marrache said.

“We even call Tétouan ‘Pequeña Jerusalen’ [‘Little Jerusalem’] because of its former significance as a center of Sephardic life,” Alberto Hayon, the community’s president, told JNS.

Only about a minyan of Jews live in the area of the cemetery now, according to Marrache, who calls Hayon “a real trailblazer.”

“He spearheaded these restoration activities and founded the charitable association overseeing them,” Marrache said. “We hope they will one day result in a full museum.”

Morocco’s Jewish community dates back to antiquity. By 1948, there were about 270,000 Jews living there. That number plummeted to an estimated 2,300 Jews as of 2015. Experts are still piecing together the fractured memories left behind, and the fact that many of the tombs, which line the slopes of Mount Dersa, lack inscriptions compounds the erasure of prior Jewish communities.

“The tradition was that if somebody was married and had children, they wouldn’t put a name on the grave because it was a duty of their descendants to teach the next generations where ancestors were buried,” Marrache said, “and to return there on the date of their death.”

Many tombstones have Jewish symbols, such as Stars of David or Trees of Life, including on the tombs of rabbis.

“The six-pointed star probably did not have the same meaning as today’s Magen David star, which only became a major Jewish symbol in the Habsburg Empire,” explained Marrache. “A lot of the tombs also have the Tree of Life on them.”

Other stones, which originated in Spain and are rarer in Morocco, are shaped like the contours of a person, according to Marrache.

In 1956, Morocco declared independence from France, suspending Jewish immigration and travel abroad. When Moroccan Jews again had the right to emigrate in 1963, more than 100,000 moved away, largely to Israel. As the community gradually dwindled, knowledge of the locations of the tombs of the three rabbis seemed to have been lost.

Marrache has “long been aware” of a rumored tradition of the community praying at the tombs of the three on the eves of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.The cemetery in Tétouan in northern Morocco, where the tombs of three celebrated 17th- and 18th-century rabbis — Jacob Ben Malca, Hasday Almosnino and Jacob Marrache — were rediscovered after more than 60 years. Credit: Alberto Hayon.

“My seventh cousin Andrew Strum heard this firsthand from relatives in the 1980s who had left Tétouan for Israel in the 1960s,” he told JNS. “For years, my family members have wanted to find the tomb of Rabbi Jacob Marrache, and in early 2000, we sent someone to check in Tétouan, but there was no one who could find it.”

There have also been “false starts” in recent years, noted Marrache. Some even remembered the tradition but couldn’t locate the tombs.

Hayon told JNS that Rabbi Joseph Israel, a Tétouan native who now lives in Casablanca, helped provide the breakthrough.

“He remembered this tradition well and during Purim this year, he visited and gathered the strength to walk up the cemetery,” where he showed the community the three graves, Hayon told JNS.

But that place, where several elderly people recalled going, is steep and has become “very overgrown, making it quite difficult to reach,” he added.

Various historical documentation also backs up this year’s discovery, including the writings of former Knesset member Rabbi Shlomo Dayan, who recorded that the community’s leader (the late uncle of today’s “trailblazer”) had shown him the tombs of Almosnino and Marrache in 1993. Writings in the 19th century also recorded visiting those graves.

And in 1955, Haim Ze’ev Hirschberg, an Israeli historian, visited Tétouan, where Moses Hassan, the community’s vice president, showed him the tombs.

“So we definitely know now that in 1955, when there was a continuous generation after generation in the community, they still knew where these tombs were,” Marrache said.

“We still do not know which tomb belongs to which rabbi, as, of course, Jewish law forbids the excavation of human remains for scientific testing, but now we certainly know they are there,” he said.

Although a UNESCO site, Tétouan’s Jewish history tends to be overlooked compared to that of larger metropolitan areas, such as Casablanca. “Since the renewed agreements between Israel and Morocco, a lot of Israeli tourists visit but usually to famous cities like Tangiers or Shefshawan. They rarely stop in Tétouan,” Marrache said.

As the Abraham Accords bring more visitors, and in light of the new discovery, he hopes that more visitors and scholars will find their curiosity piqued.

Read article in full

[giuliettacapuleti]

Rating of different versions of Aimer in Romeó et Juliette:

Let me start out by saying that I don’t like romance and I’m not sure I believe in it BUT when any version of Aimer comes on I’m in full Notebook Titanic Sixteen Candles Casablanca Breakfast at Tiffany’s Love Actually mode and for roughly two minutes fifty-two seconds I believe that Love exists and the world is a beautiful place and I am no longer afraid to die. I think it’s an absolutely gorgeous song in any language. That said, some Aimers make me want to kiss someone in the rain and dramatically run after them in an airport and declare my love right before they get on the plane and disappear forever more than others:

1. French (original). Honestly for me this one is kind of tied with the Hungarian but it is the original and more importantly, has Cécilia Cara, who sounds like a literal angel, especially during the harmony. Of course, most Juliets are amazing and sing this song well (and it’s a hard song to sing, I think) but Cécilia’s voice just hits different.

2. Hungarian. This one has my favorite lyrics, and I adore Dora and Attila (original Hungarian R + J). I love the emphasis of loving faithfully (I fully believe they would have been faithful to each other for the rest of their lives if they weren’t cut short, so hello extra tragedy). Hungarian in general isn’t a very “delicate” language (I still love it though!) but it sounds so beautiful with this song. French goes first because it was the blueprint, but for me the Hungarian lyrics just hit in a way the French ones don’t. Granted, I don’t speak Hungarian or French, so there is that.

3. Italian. Alright, so it sounds very beautiful, but the lyrics are :// to me. I get what they were trying to do with the whole “love and change the world” thing, because their love changed Verona (or their deaths did, but whatever). But personally, I like the focus being on R + J and their love. Italian is such a gorgeous language (my favorite), and I love how they normally do their own thing (look at French vs. Italian lyrics for Notre Dame de Paris), and these lyrics were certainly different, but this time it's…eh. I mean - “Love with your hands” ??? girl ???? I mean, I guess??

4. Russian. These lyrics are actually really beautiful even though they are pretty unique. There are actually two Russian versions of Aimer - the one in the official video and the one in the show itself. I prefer the show version, which is basically just them asking God for His blessing. The video version is closer to the French, but instead of “to love/love” it’s “Happiness” as in - "Happiness is to soar like a bird/Happiness is to be with you/Happiness is to merge with your beloved” which just doesn’t have the same effect imo.

5. Spanish. I actually expected myself to like this one more than I do.

6. German. No strong feelings (sorry Janine).

7. Japanese (2021). I appreciate how these lyrics are sort of like actual wedding vows but I don’t know what is going on with the backing music.

8.Romanian. I actually don’t know why I like this one so much. The lyrics are pretty solid except the “hearts in love like two drops of dew” bit. It just sounds nice to me.

9. Chinese. Imo these lyrics are kind of wonky but it could just be that it’s hard to translate it and it makes way more sense in the actual language. I do like the “loving faithfully until death” thing this and the Hungarian had going on.

10. Korean. I have absolutely no strong feelings about this one.

11. Dutch. Not sure if I’m just having a hard time translating but the lyrics to this one are…odd. Most of it is fine though. I’m just not a fan of the way the language sounds, personally.

12. Slovak. Admittedly I am too lazy to try to do a real translation of it, but just going by the quick translation of the lyrics this one starts out normal but becomes weirdly sexual. I understand the French and other versions having ‘burning with a desire’ etc but…I could be totally wrong about this though. At least it’s catchy?

13. Mongolian. It seems this one has really weird lyrics too. But again, I could be totally wrong.

Can’t rate: Hebrew (no idea what they are saying and I can’t find the lyrics) and Czech (I have only heard a fragment of this one but the harmony part sounds really cool).

-10000. English. How do you adapt a song from a play with some of the most beautiful lines in the English language in it this badly??? I’m not saying they have to go full Shakespeare but this is um. Bad. Special mention goes to Romeo’s “THESE ARE MY MOUNTAINNNNS” in the harmony. I get secondhand cringe from this. If I were in prison, this would be the song they would play to torture me into confessing literally anything. I would say “I killed Jimmy Hoffa and was responsible for the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum art heist” just so I would never have to hear this song again. It’s my least favorite song next to “Ice Ice Baby”. And I know that’s really harsh but it’s such a gorgeous song in literally ANY other language, and more importantly, this overall terrible translation and melody slaughtering killed any success this show might have had in English speaking countries. If they had a good translation I’d have a musical I adore in English AND maybe never have to deal with the &Juliet musical and other media with shitty R + J takes because the musical would give people a new perspective and decrease the frequency of the ol “Romeo and Juliet were stupid teens” take. But whatever.

[9iovanni]

"You got a little shine, but not like this."

AT FIRST GLANCE:

➟ full name: giovanni john vallata ➟ nicknames/alias: vanni ➟ pronunciation guide: (joh)-VAHN-nee ➟ age: twenty-five ➟ birthday: february 14, 1999 ➟ sexuality: bi-curious ➟ relationship status: happily dating @yczmin ➟ occupation: florist @ casablanca blooms & coffee + freelance photographer ➟ current residence: casablanca, chile ➟ height: 6'0 ➟ spoken languages: spanish (chilean dialect) and english ➟ face claim: tyler "HOOK" senerchia

DEEPER DIVE:

➟ vanni was born in brooklyn, new york, usa. but, at the age of four, his family immigrated to chile when his father retired from being a color commentator for professional wrestling promotions in the usa. vanni has not been back to the states since he left. because of this, vanni grew up learning about chilean culture and speaking spanish with his teachers and peers. vanni learned how to speak english through conversing with his parents and acting as a translator for them. additionally, vanni’s parents hired a personal tutor for him to become fluent in english. he has very little knowledge of american culture besides what he has learned through various tv shows, music, and news media.

➟ vanni suffers from a horrible case of resting bitch face. his parents tell him its because of his italian and new york roots. the man is also an introvert. he prefers to live up in his own head and sit back to observe the rambunctious parties. however, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy his fair share of attention. vanni would argue his introversion and mean looks are all part of what attracts the ladies to him. despite being a hopeless romantic, vanni also doesn’t see the harm in fooling around with whatever lady is interested in him at the moment. “why not give her the night of her life? she’s interested in me.” being born on valentine’s day and named after don giovanni, vanni lives up to expectations of being a womanizer but has never initiated such encounters. vanni only sees the value in his effort if he wants to seriously pursue someone to be his life parter.

➟ vanni graduated with two degrees in photography and digital media. while attending the university, vanni was living with his parents. as soon as he graduated and had saved enough money because he didn’t want to feel as though he was “leeching” off of his parents, vanni moved to casablanca where he now resides in his own apartment and works as a florist at casablanca blooms & coffee.

➟ vanni values the beauty of art in all of its media. he has shown an interest in photography since he was very young. his parents immigrated to chile because they fell in love with the tourist sights from when they’d frequently go on vacation in the latin country. photos of the natural beauty of chile have always decorated the walls of his home since he was young and vanni has since then captured his own visions and sights of the country that’s adopted him. it has only been a year since vanni transitioned the central piece of his photography from the natural beauty of chile to human models.

➟ vanni has been surrounded by love his whole life. his father adored vanni’s mother with a love that vanni has only been chasing for himself. he would often tag along with his father to the florista and found himself falling in love with the various different flowers, their meanings, and the art of creating a bouquet. to vanni, there is no purer declaration of love than creating a bouquet. being a florist means he can spread this love with others as well as practice for the day he finds someone who he would grow a bouquet for from seedlings.

➟ besides photography, vanni’s hobbies include: working out, bodybuilding, playing video games, watching anime, and wrestling. he is a fan of lucha libre and frequently attends shows when he can. while in school, vanni did train to become a professional wrestler with the dreams of being able to go to the states and make a name for himself. however, vanni found his love shifting to his current professions and now vanni wrestles to stay in shape, mostly.

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education: Chapter 11

Masterlist link

Minors DNI

Chapter 11

The drive from The Hideout was quiet one, with Eddie's free hand reaching for Leia's whenever he didn't need it to steer. Eventually, Leia spoke up, voice raspy from the weeping, reluctant to say what she needed.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm...afraid to go back to my apartment. Sam knows the address. It's where we were going to move in together before....uh...anyway,” she said with a sniff, forcing her voice to sound more normal than she felt. “If you could drop me off literally anywhere else, I'd appreciate it. I'm sorry I ruined your shift and..and...caused so much trouble..and.”

He could hear her voice waver and feel her hand begin to shake again where his fingers grazed hers. He pulled the car over. Eddie couldn't stand not facing her or holding her with both hands when she was so upset. As soon as he parked, she was enveloped in the cool smooth blanket of his leather jacket, head nuzzling against hers.

“Listen to me, Leia. You did nothing wrong. You just fell in love with the wrong person. But you,” he said as he cradled her cheek with his big hand, “you have no idea how much good you really deserve do you?”

She looked away, unable to meet his intense eyes. “I have no idea about anything right now, Eddie, except that I don't want to go home.”

He looked concerned for a moment, asking, “Does he have a key?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head emphatically, “Thank god.”

He nodded too. Thankful to hear she had some safeguard against Sam other than distance. Suddenly a thought hit Eddie out of the blue and his eyes lit up. “You don't have to go home! I have an idea. Trust me?”

She looked at him, baffled, but nodded. “Ye...yeah, of course....what are..?”

“Hold on tight, Princess Leia. I have a plan!” he said with a huge trouble-maker's grin.

------

A little while later they were sitting side by side and cross-legged on the pillows in the back of his van, doors open to give a full view of the drive-in movie they were attending, both sipping milkshakes. She smiled as Eddie shifted to throw one more blanket over her, warding off the chilly night air. Observant man that he was, he was learning that she gets cold so easily.

He chuckled. “Sorry, maybe milkshakes weren't the best plan tonight but these always cheer me up. That drive thru has been there since I was a kid. Same family still owns it, I think.”

She smiled to him and held his hand. “No, Eddie. It's perfect. This is so sweet. I can't thank you enough,” she said, her big kind dark-chocolate eyes drawing him in and melting his heart.

“Hey, don't mention it. You've been through the wringer. You deserve some happiness, and a hell of a lot more than that asshole ever gave you. I'm guessing he had you convinced that you didn't deserve any...slimy little shit,” he declared, swirling the little red straw, trying to get to the last of his dessert at the bottom of the cup.

When he looked over she seemed pensive and timid, eyes glued to her hand as it slowly stirred her shake. He reached his hand out and scooted closer, “Fuck...sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up...rubbing salt in the wound.”

She looked him in the eye. “No! No Eddie it's not that. I love your honesty...your openness. Please never stop being so real...so honest. I've never had that. Just pecking orders and passive-aggression and gaslighting and fear of damnation from people who were supposed to love me. Not...not that I have you...I...I don't know.” She looked away, but Eddie just grinned, thinking, Oh but you do, princess. You have no idea how much you have me.

“Come here,” he said gesturing for her to snuggle against him. He put an arm around her while they watched Casablanca flicker across the screen in its dreamy black and white glory and he held her close. He could feel her begin to slouch into him with more ease as they passed a joint back and forth. He couldn't help watching her sensual sanguine lips as she took a drag then released little tendrils of fragrant smoke with a soothed exhale, a hint of a sigh, shutting her eyes in pleasure. Eddie swallowed hard, imagining that might be her reaction the first time he would touch her as more than a friend; a sound of long-awaited relief, like sinking aching muscles into a hot bath. He would give anything to hear that sigh from her again because of his hands caressing her.

“You know what I want to hear.” he parroted along with the movie in a Humphrey Bogart impression, which drew a little giggle from her half-asleep form. Leia was sinking further down and he scooted so she could lay on her side. Using his thigh for a pillow, she snuggled into him, pressing her cheek to the worn denim as he stroked her hair gently, moving it away from her sweet round cheeks. They'd both seen Casablanca a thousand times, but even if they hadn't, neither of them were paying any attention to the movie.

Even in her drowsy state (or maybe because of the liberty of it) she allowed herself to enjoy his touch, to fantasize. She wished she could crawl just a little farther between his strong thighs, slowly unzipping and releasing him. She longed to hear him sigh gratefully, praising her like a goddess as she'd take the warm length of him into her mouth. Leia could imagine it, though she'd never experienced it that way. Sam liked to hold her head in place, fucking her mouth like she was just an old sock to jack off into. Her throat always hurt the next day, but Leia assumed that was just how all men were, how all men liked it. Eddie would be different. Eddie would be gentle, she knew with certainty. He would cradle her head and stroke her hair reverently, massaging her scalp as she enjoyed the taste of him. These idle thoughts began to make her wet, and she squirmed a little, readjusting. Sweet unassuming Eddie just figured she was uncomfortable from the position she was laying in.

Eddie whispered close to her ear, “Sorry sweetheart, I know this isn't the best spot for a nap. She opened her eyes and stared up into his. His long hair tickled her cheeks as he stared down at her. His deep eyes looked concerned but his lips still carried the twitch of a smile. He licked his lips nervously then said, “I swear I didn't plan it like this, and I'm not trying to get in your pants or something, but my trailer park is across the street. You're welcome to stay at my place tonight...” he could feel himself beginning to ramble, like a boulder picking up momentum as it tumbled downhill, “I...I know it's kind of trashy...you know... living in a trailer, but it's pretty big and new. There's plenty of room so I can give you privacy. I live alone now. Wayne lives with his lady so it'll be quiet. Well, except for me. I'll be on the couch and you still might hear me snoring through the door. It's so fucking loud. Wayne used to call me the freight train, but he snores just as bad...runs in the family I guess...”

Leia raised a single finger and pressed it against his lips. God, they were so soft and full and pink, begging to be kissed, she thought. She ran the pad of her finger over the pillowy flesh, lightly tracing. She couldn't help herself. It took her some time to respond, hypnotized by his mouth and the desires it summoned within her.

“Eddie, that's so nice of you. As long as you don't mind me there. And I'll take the couch. You sleep in your own bed.”

“No way,” he protested, his mop of hair wiggling as he shook his head. It made her giggle as it tickled her and a smile blossomed on her face. Eddie wanted to kiss her so badly it physically ached. It tormented him. He didn't want to take advantage of such a vulnerable time for her, or cause her to lose her job. What if I'm reading it all wrong? I think she likes me, but fuck, what if I made a move and she didn't want it? I could never look her in the eye again. I might just cry in bed for the rest of my life if that happened.

From there his rumination spun around and around; a record playing the same old tune. And it was the same sad song that Leia was playing in her own mind.

I'm not good enough.

“If she can stand it, I can! Play it!”

---

When they reached the front porch of his trailer, he turned to her and said sheepishly, “Can you give me just a minute. I'm gonna tidy up real quick. Wait here. Are you warm enough?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. I'm fine. And you really don't have to.”

“I know...I know, just two seconds, okay?”

And he was off in a flash. She watched surreptitiously through the crack in the door as he whisked piles of laundry into a hamper and loaded the dishwasher all in record time. He bounded back to the door, and she let out a little yip, not expecting the sudden movement. Eddie opened the door with a bow, taking her hand dramatically he said, “Your Highness, welcome to Casa Munson,” as he welcomed her inside.

“My champion, thank you,” she said, matching his dramatic tone. She eyed his private space, hungry to learn about him. There were Iron Maiden and Metallica posters on the wall, along with a beautiful red and black guitar proudly displayed, gleaming and well-maintained. A second-hand kitchen table was strewn with Dungeons and Dragons player's guides, figurines and elaborate varieties of dice. She strolled over to it, saying over her shoulder, “Don't worry. I promise not to touch it,” as she inspected the display.

You can touch anything I got, dollface, Eddie thought.

“This is amazing,” she said, smiling to him in genuine awe. “You're the dungeon master?”

“Yeah,” he answered, beaming with pride. “I still play campaigns with the little shrimps I knew from high school...well...they're obviously not little anymore. In my mind they're still 14, and I still feel like I take care of them.”

“Of course you do,” she said, smiling knowingly. “I'm getting the impression, from how you treat me, that that's just in your nature.”

“Nah. Only for people I really care about. Otherwise I'm a total butthead.” He paused for her to finish laughing. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt the beautiful sound of it. Eventually he asked, “Do you play?”

She shook her head. “No, but I always wanted to learn how. I was just always afraid to ask. I didn't want to get in the way.”

“I could teach you sometime. This group is nothing to be afraid of. They don't bite...well accept for me. I'm the mean and scary one,” he finished, voice dropping conspiratorially.

She came closer. “You can't fool me Munson. I know you have a reputation for that in this town, but deep down, you're a sweet little cupcake.”

He laughed and dug his hands in his pockets, averting his eyes shyly, and stepped back. “Uh...so, let me find you a toothbrush and towels and stuff. I'm guessing you'll want to shower off all the fake blood.”

“Correct,” she admitted. “And..uh...can...can I borrow something to sleep in. I didn't exactly bring anything.”

“Oh right...yeah yeah...just a minute.” Eddie breezed off to his closet, finding a clean pair of boxers and his favorite Motorhead shirt, freshly laundered. His cock twitched thinking of her in his clothes like that. She probably wouldn't even have underwear on under those sleep clothes. She'll be all damp from her shower and smell amazing. She'll be wet and soapy and naked in my shower. Before he knew it, Eddie could feel the bulge forming in his pants and cursed to himself. He waited it out, biding his time as he changed the sheets for her. He didn't like the idea of her sleeping on the same bedding where he jacked off thinking about her and moaning her name night after night.

Frustrated in so many ways, he slammed the ball of old sheets into the hamper, took a breath and begged his cock to calm down as he tidily folded her nightclothes, towel, and washcloth, setting a brand new toothbrush on top. He breezed back out once the evidence of his thoughts had calmed down, plastering a smile back on his face as he hand off the items. He scrambled for a quick but polite escape.

“Well...uh. I'm pretty beat. Mind if I turn in?”

“Oh..uh. No. No of course not. I'll try to be quiet getting ready for bed.”

“Sure sure...”

They stared each other in the eyes for just a moment, both breathing heavily before they stuttered over each other saying “Goodnight” and set about getting ready for bed in separate rooms. Both kicking themselves for not seizing the moment.

@sunflowerdaydreamer

[meep9898]

"Well, not to brag, but I eat at least 6 times a day to make sure my productivity is at maximum capacity. I do have my food delivered via a variety of different services as well...~"

This chubby detective is way too simple and cute~

Elizabeth's seen her snooping about her company building from time to time, studying the obesity epidemic occurring within. The curious, dim sort is just her type, and she'd become a chair member of this "Feeding Faction" herself in a lardy heartbeat if it meant being able to spoil Fio rotten.

And with each poke to her her girdled gut, it shouldn't take long before...

*SNAP*

A beanbag sized belly breaks out from it's restraints like it was spring loaded, encasing it's pale dough around the inquisitor's face before pushing her back a few feet-

"Oh dear, I do apologize. It seems I've gained more weight than I let on. Maybe I was hit by an invisible calorie ray by those dastardly villains just now? Go on, do investigate deeper~"

This 700-plus pound woman might just be Detective Fiorella Casablanca's final boss...

Removing her hands from her client’s many suddenly exposed rolls, afraid she may fall under the effect of the Feeding Faction’s fattening ray, Fiorella takes a step back. Taking a moment to scrutinize Elizabeth’s impressive roundness and softness, the delusional woman came to a worrisome realization. This was no mere woman that had fallen victim to maniacal and fat-inducing schemes of her rivals. Elizabeth…if she could even trust that name, was one of The Fifteen Leaders she had declared war against!

“You! You are one of them! You thought you could fool my all-seeing eyes and all-knowing brain, but you’ve been foolish in underestimating The Great Detective Fiorella Casablanca! I may have almost been tricked by your charm, but I know better, for justice prevails and protects me under its wing!”

Her seductive mannerisms, her heavy waistline, her teasing personality, and her lustful behavior, wanting her fat touched and prodded revealed ‘Elizabeth’s’ real identity. An identity which she knew far too well thanks to her chuuni fantasies.

“I may have not recognized you at first, but I’m aware of who you are now! You are The Queen, Second Leader of The Feeding Faction and one of my sworn enemies. Now that you’re in my headquarters, you won’t escape from my sight so easily!”

In reality, Fiorella has never seen this woman before in her entire life…

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 11.26

Holidays

Anti-Obesity Day

Bonn Om Touk (Water Festival; Cambodia)

Casablanca Day

Constitution Day (Abkhazia; Georgia; India)

Coton de Tulear Day

Corn Salad Day (French Republic)

Economic Abuse Awareness Day (Australia, Canada)

Family Day (Palau)

Festival of Big Talk

Festival of Shadow Economies

Flag Day (Colombia)

Fraternity Day

Good Bath Day (Japan)

Good Grief Day

Holiday List Day

International Bananagrams Day

International Day of Cats

International Shoemaker Day

International Women Human Rights Defenders Day

Iron Deficiency Day

Kelaghayi Day (Azerbaijan)

Kodanikupäev (Citizen Day; Estonia)

Lion Day USA

Mākua Rothman Day (Hawaii)

Mumbai Terror Attacks Remembrance Day

National Alexis Day

National Eric Day

National Heath Day

National Law Day (India)

National Ranboo Day

Netherfield Ball Day

Republic Day (Mongolia)

Sojourner Truth Day (Michigan)

Tazaungdaing (Myanmar)

World Lewis Day

World Olive Tree Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

National Cake Day

National Milk Day (India)

World Olive Day

4th & Last Sunday in November

All Souls' Day (Visu Dvēseles Diena; Latvia)

Artist’s Sunday [Sunday after Thanksgiving]

Crystal Skull World Day [4th Sunday]

International Laksa Day [Last Sunday]

International Shift Worker Sunday [Last Sunday]

John F. Kennedy Day (Massachusetts) [Last Sunday]

Judgement Sunday (Tuomiosunnuntai; Finland) [Last Sunday]

Mother’s Day (Russia) [Last Sunday]

Museum Store Sunday [Last Sunday]

National Bicycle Day (Philippines) [4th Sunday]

National Secondhand Sunday [Last Sunday]

National Youth Sunday (UK) [Last Sunday]

Pasadena Doo Dah Parade [Sunday after Thanksgiving]

Small Brewery Sunday [Sunday after Thanksgiving]

Stir-Up Sunday [Last Sunday before Advent]

Sunday of the Dead (Totensonntag; Austria, Germany) [Last Sunday]

Independence Days

The Golliez (Declared; 2022) [unrecognized]

Mongolia (from China, 1921)

Feast Days

Alypius the Stylite (Christian; Saint)

Basolus (a.k.a. Basle; Christian; Saint)

Bellinus of Padua (Christian; Saint)

Celebration of the Excellence of Genevieve in Paris (Roman Catholic)

Conrad of Constance (a.k.a. Conraal; Christian; Saint)

Day of the Covenant (Baháʼí)

Ethelwine of Athelney (Christian; Saint)

Feast of Christ the King (Christian)

Feast of the Holy Family (Christian)

Hugo Ball Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Isaac Watts (Episcopal Church (USA))

John Berchmans (Christian; Saint)

Kara Walker (Artology)

Nicon Metanoite (Christian; Saint)

Peter, Bishop of Alexandria (Christian; Saint)

Racist Depreciation Day (Pastafarian)

Sidney (Positivist; Saint)

Siricius, Pope (Christian; Saint)

Stylianos of Paphlagonia (Eastern Orthodoxy)

Sylvester Gozzolini (Christian; Saint)

Tantan (Muppetism)

Valraven’s Day (Pagan)

William Sidney Mount (Artology)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Uncyclopedia Bad to Be Born Today (because it’s National Baby Dropping Day.)  

Premieres

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (Novel; 1865)

Alien: Resurrection (Film; 1997)

Anarchy in the U.K., by The Sex Pistols (Album; 1976)

Australia (Film; 2008)

Bad Santa (Film; 2003)

Casablanca (Film; 1942)

The Daffy Doc (WB LT Cartoon; 1938)

Dangerous, by Michael Jackson (Album; 1991)

Flood Waters or Drown in the Valley (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 234; 1963)

Fragile, by Yes (Album; 1971)

Heir-Conditioned (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Home Defense (Disney Cartoon; 1943)

I Believe I Can Fly, by R. Kelly (Song; 1996)

The Ice Storm (Film; 1997)

Imitation of Life (Film; 1934)

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcast (Film; 1999)

The King’s Speech (Film; 2010)

Licorice Pizza (Film; 2021)

The Mosquito Coast (Film; 1996)

Orchids in the Moonlight, recorded by Xavier Cugat (Song; 1940)

Penguins of Madagascar (Animated Film; 2014)

Rockshow (Paul McCartney Concert Film; 1980)

Squeeze: Unplugged (MTV TV Concert; 1989) [1st Unplugged Concert]

Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (Film; 1986)

Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould (Film; 1993)

Timeline (Film; 2003)

The Toll of the Sea (Film; 1922) [1st Technicolor Film)

Treasure of Monte Zoom, Part 1 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 233; 1963)

The Triplets of Belleville (Animated Film; 2003)

Unplugged (Music TV Series; 1989)

The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins (Novel; 1859)x

Today’s Name Days

Anneliese, Gebhard, Konrad (Austria)

Stilyan, Stilyana (Bulgaria)

Hugo, Konrad, Siricije (Croatia)

Artur (Czech Republic)

Conradus (Denmark)

Dagmar, Maara, Maare, Tamaara (Estonia)

Sisko (Finland)

Delphine (France)

Anneliese, Konrad, Kurt (Germany)

Kyparisia, Nikon, Stelios, Stergios, Stiloanos, Stylianos (Greece)

Virág (Hungary)

Corrado, Cristo (Italy)

Konrāds (Latvia)

Dobilas, Silvestras, Vygantė (Lithuania)

Konrad, Kurt (Norway)

Delfin, Dobiemiest, Jan, Konrad, Konrada, Lechosław, Lechosława, Leonard, Sylwester (Poland)

Stellina (Romania)

Kornel (Slovakia)

Conrado, Juan, Leonardo, Silvestre (Spain)

Linus (Sweden)

Mallory, Rashad, Rashawn, Yesenia, Yessenia (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 330 of 2024; 35 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 47 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Ngetal (Reed) [Day 27 of 28]

Chinese: Month 10 (Gui-Hai), Day 14 (Wu-Zi)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 13 Kislev 5784

Islamic: 13 Jumada I 1445

J Cal: 30 Mir; Nineday [30 of 30]

Julian: 13 November 2023

Moon: 99%: Waxing Gibbous

Positivist: 22 Frederic (12th Month) [Sidney]

Runic Half Month: Is (Stasis) [Day 1 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 64 of 89)

Zodiac: Sagittarius (Day 5 of 30)

Calendar Changes

Is (Stasis) [Half-Month 23 of 24; Runic Half-Months] (thru 12.10)