establisment

The Establishment is a term used to refer to a visible dominant group or elite which holds power or authority in a nation.

dom·i·nant/ˈdämənənt/

Noun: A dominant thing, in particular.Adjective: Most important, powerful, or influential: “they are now in an even more dominantposition in the market”.

e·lite/iˈlēt/Noun

1. A group of people considered to be the best in a particular society or category, esp. because of their power, talent, or wealth.
‘they like war, because it keeps them fat, and happy’
'help me my helping yourselves’
'ask em to show you one revolution that turned out to be what it promised militantly, take russia, france, anywhere, what they do is they smash the place down then they build it up again, and the people that build it up hang onto it, and then they become the
establishment
'you guys are gonna be the establishment in a few years, its not worth knocking it down cos, its convenient to have the rooms and the machinery, the thing is to protest’
protest, but protest none violently, because violence begets violence’
if you run around wild you get smashed thats the laws of the universe.
whatever you do , just do it for peace.
its up to the people. YOU CANT BLAME IT ON THE GOVERNMENT. say there doign this, oh they are gonna put us into war.
we put them there, and we allow it, and we can change it, if we really wanna change it. 
its no good shouting on a stree corner I WANT PEACE and the beating up your mate 
work your own head out and get none violent, its pretty hard cos.

you know were all violent inside

  1. we are all hitler inside
  2. we  are all christ inside

work on the good bit of you.

because for example the marijuana charges, they say they are dirty hippys gone from us now.

well those kids, they just gotta get from under there parents wings. 

messages are there in all levels in all music, and whatever level you get it on i’ve had it too. 

try and hear it in RETROSPECT and not Objectively  

AND ITS ABOUT EVERYTHING ITS ABOUT UK, ITS ABOUT USSR, ITS ABOUT NOTHING, ITS ABOUT USA, BUT ANYTHING YOU HERE IS THERE, ITS ALL THERE, EITHER TRIVIAL OR PROFOUND, THE SAME AS IN A FLOWER, IT JUST IS AND IF YOU LOOK LONG ENOUGH ALL THE ANSWERS ARE IN IT, SAME WITH MUSIC. 

and-beastly  asked:

Prompt: The Rebel L's (idk I AM CONFUSED)

Summary for a fic I’ll never write:

The notorious Charlesian rebel leader was known as The Rebel L, for that was how she always signed her threatening notes or intercepted correspondence. Nobody knew who exactly she was–although rumors abounded–or where she operated from. It was as if she was in several places at the same time… though of course, that was impossible. Even the most competent rebel leader couldn’t achieve such a feat.

As the political situation in Charles worsened and an actual all-out rebellion seemed inevitable, three women, unrelated except through their unanimous friendship, went about their lives…

Lynn: An architectural designer based in Philip. Rumored to have close connections to Yakov of Sanct Sybil, though with the Charlesian uprising these rumors had never been solidly confirmed or denied.

Leah: An up-and-coming  singer who frequented all the best (and less-than-best) establisments of Altaria. With her small band backing her up, she crooned her melodies into the microphone, bantering lightly with the audience and taking requests between songs.

Leigh: The unassuming owner of a Charlesian flower shop. Quiet and collected, she went about her business as best she could as the country slowly crumbled into in-fighting and propoganda all around her.

Three normal women, in unrelated occupations, separated by the boundaries of their respective home countries. Nobody knew their names except those who interacted with them personally. They were not famous. They were not derided. They were simply civilians making their way in a world that flowed on with or without their help or interference.

…Did you believe that? Good. That’s exactly what they, the Rebel L, wanted you do.

Lynn: An expert in the ins-and-outs of architecture and the strengths and weaknesses of various building materials. She has easy access to the floor plans of countless buildings in many countries. Purely for “work purposes,” of course.

Leah: With musical performance as her only means of making a living, of course she must interact with many people from all walks of life… who happen to be party to all sorts of juicy information. And would she tell? Who would believe her? She’s just a simple bar singer, after all.

Leigh: A worker who loves flowers and wants to share them with the world, especially in these troubling times; that’s all she is, really. She cuts flowers, sells them, goes home to relax with a book and tea. She surrounds herself with books on flower languages of old and recent fashions… just the harmless hobby of one who loves plants of all sorts, of course.

Apart, they are nobody. Together, they are the Rebel L.

Their occupations provide the perfect disguises behind which to masquerade as they work day and night to organize their collective rebel factions and exchange goods and information. Weapons and supplies can be smuggled in trucks bearing building materials. An innocent smile and a sweet voice can beguile even the most steadfast nobleman or laborer in the right place at the right time.

And a lovely bouquet of flowers can bear even the most insidious message simply through color and species…

This is precisely the purpose of a particular bouquet Leigh is delivering one fateful morning. The message is arranging a meeting between the Rebel L and another underground contact. She delivers the loaded bouquet into the correct hands and goes on her way.

If only life was actually that simple.

“Where’s the ‘flower note,’ Leigh?”

“What are you talking about? I gave it to your man this morning.”

“He waited at the spot for hours, but you never showed.”

What was going on? It was up to Leigh, with the help of Leah and Lynn, to track down the bouquet and the man she’d handed it to, and more importantly discern his purpose in accepting it. The one with the dark hair and gentle eyes, the suit and air of one who serves nobility… the one who’d introduced himself only as “Louis.”

@autorhythmicity @and-beastly