A list of Movies everyone must see during Halloween

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble (1993)

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                                                                                                                      The Nightmare before Christmas (1993)

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Hocus Pocus (1993)

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Monster house (2006)

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Paranorman (2012)

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Addams family values (1993)

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The corpse bride 

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Scooby doo (2002)

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Coarline (2009)

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Halloweentown (1998)

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Ghostbusters (1984)

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 Sleepy Hollow (1999)

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Sweeney Todd: the demon barber of fleet street (2007)

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あなたの守りたいものは | By:もこめ@ついった

※Permission to upload was granted by the artist

La Llorona

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La Llorona, “The Weeping Woman”, is a widespread legend in Mexico and the American west. 

Legend

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Although several variations exist, the basic story tells of a beautiful woman by the name of Maria who drowns her children in order to be with the man that she loved. The man would not have her, which devastated her. She would not take no for an answer, so she drowned herself in a river in Mexico City. 

Challenged at the gates of Heaven as to the whereabouts of her children, she is not permitted to enter the afterlife until she has found them. Maria is forced to wander the Earth for all eternity, searching in vain for her drowned offspring, with her constant weeping giving her the name “La Llorona”. She is trapped in between the living world and the spirit world.

Often it is said that if you lock the doors to a room with a mirror, light red candles and say her name a couple of times in front of the mirror, you may see her.

In some versions of this tale and legend, La Llorona will kidnap wandering children who resemble her missing children, or children who disobey their parents. People who claim to have seen her say she appears at night or in the late evenings from rivers or lakes in Mexico.  Some believe that those who hear the wails of La Llorona are marked for death, similar to the Gaelic banshee legend; she is said to cry, “¡Ay, mis hijos!” (“Oh, my children!”).

Aztec

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Local Aztec folklore  possibly influenced the legend; the goddess Cihuacoatl or Coatlicue was said to have appeared shortly prior to the discovery of New Spain by Hernán Cortés, weeping for her lost children, an omen of the fall of the Aztec empire.

La Llorona is also sometimes identified with La Malinche, the Nahua woman who served as Cortés’s interpreter and who some say was betrayed by the Spanish conquistadors. In one folk story of La Malinche, she became Cortés’s mistress and bore him a child, only to be abandoned so that he could marry a Spanish lady (although no evidence exists that La Malinche killed her children). Aztec pride drove La Malinche to acts of vengeance. In this context, the tale compares the Spanish discovery of the New World and the demise of indigenous culture after the conquest with La Llorona’s loss.

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an update on my senior project so far: i’m finishing up a proposal booklet for my webcomic and wanted to share one of my spot illustrations! all thats left are character sheets that i’ll be posting later. poltergeist inc. is a story that follows a group of 20 something year olds in suburban texas who become mediocre ghost hunters in their spare time. it’ll be posted up in spring 2015!

here’s your friendly daily reminder of melinda may’s face after the initial relief at seeing jemma alive has passed

once she realises that these kids have been through something truly terrible and that fitz is barely hanging on

when she’s awash with horror at having been unable to protect them from this

when the guilt starts to creep in

because she couldn’t save them

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faeblossom said:

Either 1 or 48 hiccstrid :)

She was thirteen when her soulmate mark appeared.

It was a relief and a nuisance to be honest. A relief because she didn’t have to keep worrying about “when is it going to show up?” and a nuisance because every other girl in her class kept fussing over their marks and wondering who might have the one that matched. Honestly, Astrid wasn’t concerned about that part. She’d meet her soulmate eventually, as the mark on her wrist clearly stated. There would be plenty of time.

She was fifteen when she met him. 

She was walking home from school, trailing behind her brothers, mentally calculating how much time she would have to spend on her math homework if she wanted to get the first draft of her history essay done. Suddenly there was a screech of rubber on asphalt, a metal-on-metal shriek, the harsh crash of glass shattering. Astrid nearly jumped out of her shoes. 

"What was that-" she started to say, but even as she turned she already knew. An SUV had taken the corner too sharply and ignored the stop sign, T-boning the silver sedan that should have had the right of way. The smaller car was crumpled like a discarded piece of paper in the intersection, broken glass spread out and sparkling in the afternoon sun like a small galaxy.

Her brothers dropped their backpacks and took off running. “Stay there, Astrid!” Bear shouted. She bent to pick up their backpacks, her hands shaking. Her brothers ran to the crash, Bear going to the truck and Finn to the sedan. She was grateful they were there. They were older and smarter, they could handle this. 

"Az? Astrid!" 

She snapped out of her daze and looked at Bear. “Call 911,” he said. “Tell them to send help now.”

"Okay, okay," she said, fumbling in her pocket. She sank down on the curb, making a barrier of backpacks, and dialed the number with shaking fingers. Her voice sounded remarkably calm as she talked to the dispatcher, but she kind of wanted to add a this is my first 911 call, by the way. It seemed like a rite of passage that she wasn’t ready for.

"Az, can you come over here?" 

She looked up at Finn. Do I have to? she wanted to say, but mechanically she stood up, her phone clutched in her hand, and edged closer to the sedan. Her oldest brother stood by the crunched hood of the car, his football jersey smeared with something dark. Oil, she hoped.

"Az, I need you to help me," Finn said. He kept his voice low, like he was coaching her on a layup while they played basketball in the driveway. "This is going to be rough, but I need you."

Her mouth went dry. “What is it?” she asked.

"There’s two people in the car," Finn said. "There’s a kid your age. I need you to stay with him, okay? Keep him awake and talking till help gets here."

She was shaking. “Sure,” she said, picking her way around the shattered glass towards the passenger side of the car. She could catch just the slightest glimpse of dark red hair through the remains of the window.

The boy still buckled into the passenger seat was small and slight. His chin tipped forward to rest against his chest, and blood trickled in a thin line down his chin and dripped on his shirt. Astrid crept a little closer and nearly leaped out of her skin when his eyes opened sluggishly.

"Hey," he drawled, his mouth screwing up in confusion.

"Hi," she said. "Hi, are you okay?"

She instantly regretted it. His face was bloodied and the car was practically folded in half, of course he wasn’t okay.

"What happened?" he mumbled.

"You were in a really bad car accident," Astrid said. "We’ve already called, help’s coming."

He frowned slightly, his chest heaving once as he struggled to process that information. “Am I okay?” he asked, his voice thick.

"I don’t know," Astrid said. She shifted against the side of the car. "What’s your name?"

He paused. “Hiccup,” he said at last, as if he had to think about it.

"Hiccup?" Astrid repeated, wrinkling her nose.

“‘s my nickname,” he mumbled. His eyes were beginning to drift closed.

Astrid reached into the car and grabbed his hand. “Don’t fall asleep,” she warned. “How old are you?”

"Almost fifteen," Hiccup said. "My birthday’s in February." He looked up at her sluggishly. "Who’re you again?"

"Astrid Hofferson," she said. "And I’m fifteen. Just turned fifteen."

Hiccup’s hand was cold and clammy in her grip, his fingers limp. Astrid squeezed hard. She tried to remember what she’d learned in health class about accident victims, but it was like someone had deleted that file in her brain. Keep him awake and keep him calm, that was all she could think. “You should talk to me,” she said. “Tell me something about yourself. What’s your favorite color?”

"Green," he said. He turned his head, wincing as he did. More blood dripped down his forehead. Astrid pulled the cuff of her hoodie sleeve over her palm and wiped it away from his temple and cheek. "And…I like Star Trek. And my dad is making me try out for soccer." His lashes fluttered for a moment; he opened his eyes and tried to focus on her face. His pupils were dilated. "What about you?"

"I run cross country and play basketball," she said. "My favorite color’s blue, I’ve got two brothers and a dog."

He smiled a little. “What’s his name?” he asked.

"Her name’s Stormfly," Astrid said. "She’s a greyhound."

"I’ve got a cat," Hiccup said. "Except…nobody knows about him. I’ve been hiding him in my old treehouse. But I sneak him inside a lot. Nobody’s caught on yet."

The color was draining from his face, leaving his skin white and his freckles almost black. “What’s his name?” Astrid asked, squeezing his hand again, his fingers feeling more and more lifeless. 

"Toothless," Hiccup said. He took a deep shuddering breath. "Where’s my mom? Is she okay?"

Astrid’s heart sank. She couldn’t see the driver very clearly from the way the car was crunched, but from what she could tell…it didn’t look good. “Your mom’s going to be okay,” she lied. 

Hiccup took another shuddering breath, this one shallow and rattling in his thin chest. “I want my mom,” he whispered.

Astrid’s heart did another unnerving flipflop. She didn’t blame him; she’d want her mom too. But from the stillness in the driver’s seat, and the fact that Finn wasn’t talking to the the woman sitting there…

Astrid fumbled for the door handle, her other hand still holding Hiccup’s. Mercifully it opened, although she had to jiggle the handle and lift the door up before it would. She let go of Hiccup’s hand and sat down on the edge of the seat, facing him. “You’re going to be okay,” she said.

She hugged him gingerly, unsure of his injuries but wanting to reassure him. He was cold all over, his body beginning to shiver. He didn’t say anything, just rested his chin on her shoulder. His uneven breathing echoed in her ear like a ricochet.

"My leg hurts," he whispered.

Astrid leaned back. “Why didn’t you say something?” she said. 

She looked down and realized Hiccup’s left leg was pinned between the center console and the dashboard. The front of the car had been smashed so far forward that his leg was crushed between them. With sickening horror she realized that blood was soaking through the fabric of his jeans, turning it nearly black.

"Oh my god, why didn’t you say something?" she said, her voice rising. She scrambled to her feet. "Finn! Finn!"

Her oldest brother ran around the side of the car. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

"He’s bleeding really badly," Astrid said. "I didn’t know, he didn’t say anything."

Finn pushed past her to look into the car and swore when he saw the blood pooling on the floormat. “You have something I can use for a tourniquet?” he said.

Astrid ripped the ribbon headband out of her hair and handed it to him wordlessly. Finn crawled into the car to tie it around Hiccup’s leg.

"Astrid?"

It was so faint she barely heard it. She looked down at Hiccup. His eyes were hazy, the pupils dilated. “Can you stay with me?” he whispered.

Astrid nodded, sinking down beside him. He was shaking, his lips pressed together tightly. She took both of his hands in hers, rubbing her thumbs across his knuckles. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Hiccup didn’t seem to hear her. Sirens were echoing now, faint and growing louder. “Just hold on,” she said. 

His head tilted forward and he slumped over the restraint of his seatbelt, his forehead falling to Astrid’s shoulder. She caught her breath and pressed her thumbs against his wrists, feeling for a pulse.

The pulse was there, faint and thready, and she looked down at his hands in relief. His skin was white, the veins blue, but there was a black mark on his right wrist. His soulmate mark. A straight line with two interconnected half circles.

The same mark as hers.

4

Womanhood || Annie Churdar

Heteronormativity: the idea that everyone can be placed neatly into two complementary genders, man and woman. It means that both genders will naturally take on their allotted roles. Girls will become women in order to fulfill men.

What if we don’t naturally exhibit the traits needed to fulfill our expected gender? Are we broken or is the system broken?

Modals: recklesstendency & nylavae

The Book of Disappointment

So, The Book of Life.

I had a good time at this movie, which goes to show that story quality isn’t everything, but then I got a ticket for free. And real tickets cost money so I’m going to be critical.

-The Book of Life was a gorgeously rendered but really big mess of themes, characters, tropes, cliche after cliche, and song covers your dad will love.

Jorge Gutierrez’s lively designs and colors are stunning nonetheless, and so if you want to see some of that I would say go spend your 12 bucks. However, if you wanted a decent story this is not the movie for you, which is a disappointment, because the environments and designs are so rich. But in my opinion well designed sets and characters do not a movie make.

Read on? Here be spoilers. And pictures.

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Read More

Amityville, Tutankhamun and Mata Hari
- This Week in Dark/Strange History

- Three unrelated stories of a strange, unusual or dark nature.

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October 14, 1975 – Ronald DeFeo Jr. goes on trial for the murders of Ronald Defeo sr., his wife Dawn and their four children Dawn, Allison, Marc and John. On the evening of November 13 the previous year, Ronald entered a local bar and told of his parents being shot and killed in their home. On arrival, the full shocking scene was discovered – the entire family was shot dead in their beds.

At first Ronald Jr said he believed the murders to be a hit by the mob, but he was soon confessing that he was in fact the perpetrator.

Many aspects of the case were confusing – the family appeared to have been shot dead in their beds, most of them while asleep, and without a struggle. No one heard the gunshots even though the murder weapon did not use a silencer. At one point DeFeo also claimed he was possessed and that the devil made him do it.

His attorney argued for an insanity defence, but this was denied, and Ronald DeFeo Jr was sentenced to six consecutive life sentences of 25 years to life. He is still in jail to this day.

Recent investigations (both amateur and ‘professional’) have dug up evidence that may suggest he was not alone in carrying out the murders and that a second weapon was used.

The DeFeo’s Amityville home was soon sold to the Lutz family who made claims that it was haunted, which resulted in the Amityville Horror book and movies.

——-

October 14, 1925 – On this day, after much planning, the innermost of Tutankhamun’s (also Tutenkhamen and Tutenkhamon) sarcophagi is opened to reveal the mummified remains of the boy Pharaoh. It had been well over a year since the Pharaoh’s tomb had been discovered – a significant find as it was completely intact.

The tomb was discovered some 3300 years after it was sealed following ‘King Tut’s’ death, when British Archaeologists led by Howard Carter discovered a step leading to the chamber below. It contained hundreds of objects made from gold and other precious resources and provided an as until then unheard of detail in burial rites of the Egyptian kings.

But to many this find seems to have come with a catch, a curse, with a number of those taking part in the find coming to an early death.

——-

October 15, 1917 – “Slowly, inertly, she settled to her knees, her head up always, and without the slightest change of expression on her face. For the fraction of a second it seemed she tottered there, on her knees, gazing directly at those who had taken her life. Then she fell backward, bending at the waist, with her legs doubled up beneath her”. So goes the eyewitness account of Henry Wales at the execution of Mata Hari.

Mata Hari, born Margaretha Geertruida Zelle MacLeod, was arrested in her room at the Hotel Elysee Palace in Paris, on charges of espionage – providing information to the enemy, the Germans, during World War 1. She was soon put on trial for causing the deaths of at least 50,000 soldiers, and subsequently found guilty, although there was no definite evidence produced against her.

However ‘secret ink’ was discovered in her room which was looked as being incriminating, though Hari said it was part of her makeup – she was in fact a very well known exotic dancer and courtesan of high ranking military officials… on both sides of the conflict. Her defence really was non-existent, her lawyer prevented from conducting cross examinations of the prosecutions witnesses nor was he able to question his own witnesses.

The trial was already a foregone conclusion before it had even started. Mata Hari was condemned to death by firing squad.

She sent off appeals but only found they had been denied when she was awoken in her cell by officials and led to a car that took her to the place of execution – an old fort. She refused the blindfold that was offered to her, she said she would not cry. She was not bound to the pole, she met her fate standing. She did not flinch as the orders to ready arms were given to the squad, and when the rifles were fired, she toppled calmly to the ground rather than violently fall.

Although she was dead, a bullet having found her heart, a revolver was emptied into the side of her head as required.

Mata Hari’s body was not claimed and was used as a subject for medical study. Her head was removed and embalmed, kept in the museum of anatomy in Paris. However it was discovered in the year 2000 that it was missing, likely that it is held in some private collection somewhere.

——-

Until next week…


Ashley Hall 2013

Photos: Ronald DeFeo Jr.
Inset left: Howard Carter examining the sarcophagus.
Inset right: Mata Hari.

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