book of conquest

March 8, 1917 - 100,000 Workers on Strike in Petrograd, Citizens Join Munitions Makers to Demand Food and Better Pay

Pictured - The Red Wheel starts to turn.

Strikes that began at the Putilov munitions works in Petrograd on March had multiplied enormously within a week. On March 8, up to 100,000 demonstrates were in the city, marching and waving flags as they demanded more food, better pay, and effective government. The Tsar had boarded a train out of the city the day before, bound for army headquarters at Mogilev. He wrote to his wife that he was bored and missing his half-hour game of patience every evening, adding that “I shall take up dominoes again my spare time.” In his diary he wrote that “In all my spare time I am reading a French book on Julius Caesar’s conquest of Gaul.” The Tsar had become isolated from the changes happening in his kingdom. 

Huginn og Muninn.
Drawing done in Oct. while learning to use Adobe Illustrator, but just revisited it to make the frames, w/ influence from Jim Fitzpatrick’s adapted Celtic sagas art (“Book of Conquests”) but w/ more Scandinavian direction via refs. I got from Nationalmuseet at København.
(Edit: Slightly revised knotwork at Danish friend’s wonderful suggestion to more authentically have them go over/under/over/etc each other)

diversemediums  asked:

17. A Love Bite 😏

Sweet Affectionate Moments Meme (send in more prompts for any of my AUs!)

This one is set in the Modern Glasgow universe…

“Bree - why are you wearing a scarf?”

Claire sipped her coffee, squinting across the breakfast table at her middle daughter. Eight-year-old Julia turned the corner from the kitchen, set the platter of piping hot bannocks on the table, and slid into her seat beside fifteen-year-old William - whose face was buried in a book about the Roman conquest of Britain.

“Why not, Mama?” Brianna licked her lips, clearly trying to dismiss the question. “I’ve got this new blouse and -”

“But it’ll be so bright and sunny today,” seventeen-year-old Faith insisted, pushing her scrambled eggs around on her plate. “Ye should bring the sunscreen instead. Canna have ye looking like a lobster again.”

“Dinna tell yer wee sister what to do,” Jamie admonished gently from his seat beside Claire, glancing down at the scribbles on the ledger beside his plate. “She already has a mother.”

“Wee?” Julia laughed. “Da, dinna be daft - ye ken Bree has been taller than Faith since I was small!”

“Ye still *are* small, *mo nighean oir*,” Jamie smiled, ruffling Julia’s blonde curls. “And ye didna answer yer Mama’s question, Bree - why are ye wearing the scarf?”

Brianna huffed, but said nothing.

“Does it have to do wi’ Roger MacKenzie?” William asked around a mouthful of bannock, still engrossed in his book. “I saw the two of ye after school yesterday, and I was surprised when he wasna staying here at the house. We’ve got plenty of rooms.”

“Roger is here? Why didn’t you tell us?” Claire’s brows raised in surprise. Brianna and Roger had known each other since primary school - and had been the best of friends since then. She and Jamie had always hoped that it would eventually blossom to more between them -

“He just drove up for the day,” Brianna sighed. “He had to be back in Glasgow last night because he has an exam this morning. That’s why he didn’t tell you he was coming -”

“But what does that have to do wi’ yer scarf?” Julia interrupted.

Jamie and Claire exchanged a long glance while Brianna’s face flushed bright red.

Faith and William wisely kept their mouths shut.

“I suppose she just felt like it,” Jamie said carefully, smiling indulgently at his youngest. Wanting to keep her that much more innocent for as long as he could.

Claire turned back to her breakfast with a small smile. “You may want to wear it a bit higher next time, Bree. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

Don’t Know Me (Chapter 1/?)

Prompt: Everything seems so great in Jughead’s life. He’s a part of a wealthy family, he’s got all the girls fawning over him, he’s getting great grades. One thing. Betty Cooper can’t stand him. He’s arrogant, rude and just awful. But Betty soon finds out not everything seems to be cut and dry for the beanie wearing boy.

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11469342/chapters/25715742


Jughead walked in the Riverdale High halls like he owned the place. He looked like he did. A Riverdale Football team jacket, expensive shoes and sports car out front. His dad was the fourth richest person in Riverdale (after the Lodges’, Blossoms’ and Mantles’ of course).

He acted the part too. With all the girls (and some boys) falling for him every step he took; he was the epitome of a typical jock from a teenage high-school chick flick. He fit perfectly with the popular, rich kids at Riverdale as he was one himself. Every day he sat with Cheryl and Reggie for lunch, the two most popular people in the state. Every afternoon he played football on the field and every night there somehow would be another girl in his bed, fucking him and the next morning that would be the gossip in this school walls.

He had the seemingly perfect life.

“Donnie darko,” Reggie nudged him on the shoulder as he joined him walking down the hall. Reggie had somehow come up with different pop culture nicknames for him every single week. Jughead didn’t mind, not if he wanted to get tackled on the field extra hard today.

“Hey Reginald,” Jughead shot back as Reggie laughed. Moose (Riverdale’s resident dumb ass athlete) joined their group. “How was Vanessa?”

He scoffed, “she is the least interesting person I’ve ever met. She doesn’t stop screaming and it gets so fucking annoying.” He proceeded to knock a person onto the floor as everyone laughed, “get out of the way fag.” Reggie proceeded to kick him in the stomach and kept walking, pretending like nothing happened. “Adding her to the book of conquests. Two out of ten.”

Jughead couldn’t help roll his eyes, “You guys still do that thing?”

“I’m surprised you backed out. It’s growing full. We’ve basically hit everyone straight girl here except for a few.” He glanced over to Betty Cooper who was helping the poor guy up. “You should re-join Jug. You’ll probably make it full seeming as you always take a lady home with you every night.”

Moose chuckled, “your dad isn’t home from his business trip yet? Man, try something different, bring back more than one.” Reggie and Moose fist bumped as Jughead couldn’t help gagging.

“You two are fucking idiots. I’m going to my locker.” Jughead stirred in the opposite direction, heading back to the entrance.

“You lose man!” he could hear Reggie yell behind him, getting quieter every step he took.

As much as he hated Reggie and Moose, they seemed to be his best friends. They did all the stupid shit together and Chuck like to put it “you don’t disrespect the bro code.”

He was so relieved when he got to his locker. It was his supposed safe place from the rest of the football heads. He twisted the knob open and hit it open to relieve his most secreted item. His notebook. Inside were some photos from years ago, nothing he’d brag about today. However, he couldn’t help his eyes linger to one. It was a polaroid of him at a booth in Pop’s taken by his old best friend Archie Andrews. What a long time ago before popularity and wealth got the better of him and grabbed the attention of Cheryl and Reggie.

What a much better time.

It was now lunch and he sat across Cheryl Blossom, head cheerleader and all round bitch. Jughead pulled out a cheeseburger with some fries and a can of Coke.

“That is disgusting,” she commented taking out her salad. “Do you eat anything other than carbs?”

“Do you do anything other than be a big-time bitch?” he retaliated taking juicy bite into the patty.

Cheryl rolled her eyes, “you fucking ass.” Threating him with a fork and sticking it in her salad.

“Says the one who’s a literal walking cliché.”

Both of their eyes wondered to the three people who entered the lunch area.

One of them was the raven-haired beauty, Veronica Lodge, the richest person in Riverdale, debatable when compared to the entire state. Not only did she have her own reality show but also could buy the whole town in a heartbeat. She looked rich too, wearing expensive gowns and heels to school like it was a casual thing you did.

The next one was Archie Andrews, Veronica’s boyfriend. Cheryl stopped staring when the red headed musician walked in. Unlike the rest of the group, Cheryl confided in Jughead. She (unlike Chuck and Reggie) acted more like a friend to Jughead and she had previously told him about the slight crush she had on the Lodge heiress. Archie saw him looking at them and gave a cheerful smile at Jug, which he in return gave a glare.

“Why can’t one of you asses date her instead of Archie. At least then she’d hang out with me,” Cheryl muttered to herself.

The last person was Betty Cooper. He gave her a glance which she gladly returned with a scoff.

Elizabeth Cooper hated Jughead.

Hate is a very strong word but she would use it to perfectly describe their relationship. She hated Jughead like there was no tomorrow and she would happily show you how much.

They hated each other. Betty could not stand him what so ever.

“Stop making love eyes to Cooper,” Cheryl broke his trance. “You know how much she hates you. She’s such a bitch. I’d use much harsher words but blood is thicker than water.”

“I don’t like her, not even one fucking bit,” he threw his burger gently back on his tray. “I’m going to my locker.”

He disappeared behind into the shadows and reappeared at his lonely locker. Thankfully the hall was completely empty. He proceeded to open his locker door and pull out his journal. The leather on the cover started to peel off. The pages were already a yellow colour. He quickly bent down and stuffed it in his bag.

“Hey Jughead,” a female voice came from behind the locker door. He looked up to see a pair of tanned legs, going for miles. She was wearing a pastel pink skirt, high waisted that ran down to her thighs. A glimpse of blue was underneath the fabric; he didn’t want to ponder that much on it. He noticed her hair wasn’t in her usual ponytail but instead down on her shoulders.

“Betty, what do you want?” he asked getting back up.

“I want you to apologise.”

“For what?”

“For Reggie knocking and kicking Kevin down in the hall this morning. He ended up in the ER!” her shouting echoed the thin walls.

Jughead smirked, “you’re cute when you yell.”

She took a step closer. He saw in her eyes the anger she held for him. “Shut the fuck up Jughead. Apologise to Kevin or I tell Weatherbee what happened and you’re going to regret even doing anything…”

“Why do I have to apologise for something Reggie did? I’m not his dog Betty.”

She clenched her fist, something to refrain her from going insane. She gritted her teeth slightly.

“You’re such a fucking ass hole. You know that? You used to be nice. The nerve you have, to show up to this school after you fuck a girl and leave her miserable while you move on to the next one. You show no respect for anything.” Her face turned red and tears started to appear in the corners of her eyes but she blinked them back. This was no time for crying. “To think, I actually liked you. I thought you were decent enough to call a friend but you’re just a sick douchebag.”

“Anything else Juliet?” he raised a lazy eye brow.

Betty took a heavy exhale, clenching her fists further into the crescent shaped scars in her palms. Kneading her eyebrows together, he turned his back to her. “Yeah, I feel really bad for every single girl who has laid in that bed of yours. You’re utterly disgusting.”

He laughed, turning around to walk away from her. “See you later princess.”

Her blood was boiling. Her body started to heat and before she knew it, she punched his locker. Her clenched fists left an indent, bending the metal inwards like a crater hitting the Earth’s surface. She proceeded to storm off in the other direction, to go wash her bloody hands off.


Would you like more?

anonymous asked:

How do you reconcile your beliefs as a Christian with your beliefs as an anarchist? Because I know a huge motto of sorts for anarchy is "no gods no masters" and I'm curious as to how you fit into that and what led you to your beliefs.

Oh man, this might be a really lengthy, complicated answer.

I think that any honest reading of the Bible results in AT LEAST some kind of socialism. If you just look at the Hebrew Bible, the Prophets demanded justice for the poor and had many woes for rich oppressors. In the New Testament, Jesus had nothing good to say about wealth accumulation, and added together with the Epistle of James, the Acts of the Apostles, and Revelations you get a pretty healthy smackdown of wealth and private property. The earliest apostles, who we are supposed to emulate, lived communally. Affirming capitalism, which is entirely based on wealth accumulation and private property-based injustice, is an untenable position.

I discovered this when I took my first sociology class and started to really understand the injustices that are going on due to capitalism. I was already deeply Christian, and so I looked at what Jesus said and realized that this couldn’t be the kind of world he wanted. We are nothing like the “kingdom of God,” which Jesus said we should build within ourselves and on earth.

So I became a sort of soft socialist, and I started reading up on Marxism. I toyed around with Marxism-Leninism for a bit, until I took a Soviet history class and realized that I didn’t agree with the way they implemented or interpreted Marx. I discovered Peter Kropotkin when I read deeper into the Russian Revolution, and then I read The Conquest of Bread (read the Bread Book!).

I really enjoyed the Conquest of Bread, and I thought that was the closest to anything I could really get behind. And then I started to read into some liberation theology, and I realized that so much of the message of Christianity was originally very anti-empire and anti-state, so I started to understand Jesus as a sort of proto-anarchist communist.

And I’ve understood Christianity through that lens ever since. As far as the “No Gods, No Masters” thing goes, I obviously disagree with it, but I do think that people are often talking past each other when they talk about God. Like, if you think that God is an autocratic dictator, ruling over the universe with an iron fist who demands worship - then I agree, we shouldn’t be worshiping that, and such a God would have to be abolished. But most religious people I know view God as the benevolent and creative force in the universe, the ground of all being, or something similar.Opposing God, in that sense, would be as ridiculous as opposing Gravity or any other natural existent thing in the universe.

Theologically, I think Christians often forget how naturally radical the entire Christian language is. We call Jesus the “Son of God,” and that was actually one of the titles for the Roman Emperor. We are essentially calling a poor, homeless, itinerant preacher from Nazareth more powerful than the Emperor of Rome. That was a direct challenge to Imperial power. So much of the Christian worship service and language is really a direct challenge to Roman Imperialism, and so it is a huge tragedy and terribly ironic that Christianity was eventually adopted as THE imperialist religion writ-large.

But I don’t think that makes the Christian language bankrupt, at least not to me. Jesus is still the prime example of the Divine Love resisting the abusive powers of this world. And the Gospel narrative shows that Divine Love defeating those abusive powers. That’s just super inspiring!

I’m actually not the only one to come to this kind of conclusion, either. There are tons of Christian Anarchists in history, most notably Dorothy Day and Leo Tolstoy.

So that’s my story, and basically how I think it works out theologically.

TL;DR: Jesus was a Communist, Jesus was a Pacifist, Jesus didn’t like the rich.



anonymous asked:

Hello, I have a ligitimamate question about the anarcho- part of your communism. I'm wondering, when you eventually do get to a state of government what's to keep the world from returning to a state of natural chaos? Wouldn't people naturally tend to take from one another like, if my community produced enough for us, what's to keep someone outside from taking all our shit because they've got more guns? I'm trying to find where I fall and that's one of my concerns about any anarcho system.

One of the current objections to Communism and Socialism altogether, is that the idea is so old, and yet it could never be realized. Schemes of ideal States haunted the thinkers of Ancient Greece; later on, the early christians joined in communist groups; centuries later, large communist brotherhoods, came into existence during the Reform movement.

Then, the same ideals were revived during the great English and French Revolutions; and finally, quite  lately, in 1848, a revolution, inspired to a great extent with Socialist ideals took place in France. “And yet, you see,” we are told, “how far away is still the realization of your schemes.  Don’t you think that there is some fundamental  error in your understand of human nature and its needs?”

At first sight this objection seems very serious. However, the moment we consider human history more attentively, it loses its strength. We see, first, that hundreds of millions of men have succeeded in maintaining amongst themselves, in their village communities, for many hundreds of years, one of the main elements of Socialism–the common ownership of the chef instruments of production, the lands, and the apportionment of the same according to the labour capacities of the different families; and we learn that if the communal possessions of the land has been destroyed in Western Europe, it was not from within, but from without, by the governments which created land monopoly in the favor of the nobility and the middle classes.

We learn, moreover, that the medieval cities succeeded in maintaining in their midst for several centuries, in succession a certain socialized organization of production and trade; that these centuries were periods of a rapid intellectual industrial, and artistic profess;  and that the decay of these communal institutions came mainly from the incapacity of men of combining the village with the city, the peasant with the citizen, so as jointly to oppose the growth of the military states, which destroyed the free cities.

aka: just read the fucking bread book [THE CONQUEST OF BREAD]

Chill With You (Jock or Not Pt.2)

Originally posted by nooowestayandgetcaught

Reggie Mantle x OC Reader (Jock or Not Pt.2)

Words; 1711

Warnings; fluffy like cotton candy, mentions of Jason blossoms death and disappearance, OC fem!reader pictured as Emmy Rossum, slight swearing, a tiny bit of violence. (sorry this took so long)

Requested; @the-mormon-girl-in-the-books

Part 1; (Jock or Not)

It wasn’t like Nina to be late to school, as she valued her education and needed a good GPA to help her get into University. However, it wasn’t necessarily her fault either, though she was slightly to blame.

Think of it as Reginald Mantle wanting to drop not only her brother Elijah off at school, but Nina as well. His reasoning being that, it was first day back and he didn’t want her walking in the heat. Yet, Nina wasn’t taking a free ride if her brother was walking, alone at that in the Southside of Riverdale. So, being the somewhat gentleman he was, he dropped Elijah off at his school at Southside Junior before bring both him and Nina to Riverdale High.

Keep reading

This started out as a gifset (which I’ll post soon), but turned into a meta about how Dean, Sam, Castiel and Crowley represent each four of the Horsemen Of The Apocalypse. Dean is Famine, Sam is Death, Castiel is War and Crowley is Pestilence. 

The first horsemen that is introduced in the show is War, so I’ll talk about Castiel first. 

Castiel + War

We know Cas is an impressive soldier, who can go into the grasps of hell. Whilst not necessarily the cause for conflict, he takes alot of pride in getting himself involved in fighting for causes- whether its Season Five against Lucifer, Season Six against Raphael, Season Nine against Metatron and other angels, Season Eleven against The Darkness. Castiel is a fighter. Would I label him as aggressive? Not necessarily, but he can be. Especially near the end of Season Six. When he becomes ‘God’ that episode is centered around Castiel’s righteousness in trying to right wrongs.

His attitude becomes quite hardened, even if he maintains a personal softness. He personifies War because even if he dislikes conflict as stated in Season Seven, he’ll still play a role in it. 

The Horsemen War placed an emphasis on getting humanity involved in conflict and war. Castiel, an angel involves himself in that. As war is brutal and gross, Castiel does not relish in it. He becomes a warrior and a knight, and a force to be reckoned with. War is for Castiel.

Dean Winchester + Famine

The show places an emphasis on hunger being for everything- sex, food, love. By establishing everyone as ‘empty’ and needing to fill it up. To me, this is perfectly Dean. Not only does he physically consume alot, but he struggles with feelings of doubt, self hatred and loathing, and overall emptiness. Famine reads Dean’s character in a cynical way- as if Dean’s problems with depression equate to ‘hunger’ 

That’s one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can’t fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex…  Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can’t win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just… keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, Dean, because inside, you’re already…dead.

Famine equates hunger with Dean’s strong feelings of being defeated. Dean is always hungry for something. Whether its validation for his thoughts, the basics of food and alcohol, love and friendship, or even vengeance. Famne declares Dean ‘not hungry’ because he’s dead, therefore can’t feel hunger. But Dean’s hunger for everything is rather deep and complex, and means the lust-like desire to hunt. Famine fits well for Dean.

Crowley + Pestilence 

With a creative, dark sense of humour, this one was the most obvious for me. The first horsemen (in the Book Of Revelations)- called ‘Conquest’ (I don’t even have to explain how well that fits Crowley- he loves power, being in control and winning)

Disease gets a bad rap, don’t you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself… Very…Pure…Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose –divide and conquer. That’s why, in the end…It always wins.

But onto the ‘disease’ side of Crowley. The side that doesn’t simply kill you, but makes you suffer. Crowley tortures countless people. Some for a reason (like the Alphas in Season Six) and some out of disgust and spite (Meg in Season Eight). Like diseases and infections, you aren’t simply dying. You are in alot of pain. It’s nightmarish and gross. ‘It always wins’ appeals strongly to Crowley’s desire to win and to rule, but also to weaken his enemies. Disease is creative, which Crowley is. It also weakens the person who has it (kinda what Crowley is trying to do with Lucifer- the ‘vessel’ prison puts the person in pain.

So, on top of the conquering natuer of Crowley, and the turbulant, tragic nature of disease… Pestilence fits well.

Sam Winchester + Death

On a surface level, you could say that because Sam’s life has been wrought with death- ranging from his mother, Jessica, etc. But that’s not the only reason why I picked Death for Sam. Sam is also marked for death, countless seasons in a row. He’s the one, not Dean who’d die if the Trials are completed in Season Eight. He’s the one who Death wants Dean to kill in the season 10 finale. Every once in a while, the show deals that as a consequence of actions, Sam might have to die. 

Alot of Sam’s arc is shaped around death- from Jess’ death, to dying in Season Two and being brought back. Although its not his fault that death occurs, it is a powerful motif in his arc. Sam has also wrestled with suicidal ideation. Jen Titus’ lyrics for ‘Oh Death’ in the show are very interesting,

When God is gone and the Devil takes hold,
who will have mercy on your soul

Oh, Death, оh Death, oh Death,

No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold
Nothing satisfies me but your soul

Oh, Death,
Well I am Death, none can excel,
I’ll open the door to heaven or hell.

Oh, Death, оh Death,
my name is Death and the end ïs here…

This plays into Sam who Lucifer was going to take over, who’d open the door to the Apocalypse and bring the end of the world. Sam’s also had his soul- which represents life and goodness, absolutely torn apart. For similar reasons why Dean is famine, Death fits Sam perfectly.

I enjoyed writing this, and I hope it was clear what I mean. Exploring the ‘darkness’ of characters fascinates me deeply, and I see that alot in Supernatural.