expatriate live

SOCIETY. Mandalorian society traditionally centered around warfare. Throughout history, its members fought for both honor and credits with equal fervor. Recently, Mandalorian culture has fractured into three separate groups: The New Mandalorians, The Death Watch, and the Old Mandalorians.

The New Mandalorians followed Duchess Satine Kryze during the Clone Wars, and believed in moving Mandalorian culture beyond its warrior past. These pacifist Mandalorians believed in the potential economic power of Mandalore, built around the export of Beskar, or Mandalorian Iron. With complete control of the beskar mines, the New Mandalorians, after years of civil war, wrested control of their home world and steered their people onto a more peaceful path. Unfortunately, it was not to last.

When the New Mandalorians rose from the ashes of Mandalore’s Civil War, they vanished unrepentant warrior-clans to the moon of Concordia. The Death Watch is the most infamous group, known for their bloodthirsty savagery and desire for conquest. During the Clone Wars, the Death Watch returned to exact their revenge. They were ultimately defeated, but members remain in hiding on Mandalore and Concordia, awaiting the next call to arms.

The Old Mandalorians also endured exile after the Civil War. However, rather than plot revenge on Concordia, many resettled elsewhere in the galaxy. Concord Dawn, Gargon, Ordo, and Vlemoth Port are but a few of the worlds that support Mandalorian expatriates. Here, the Mandalorians live as they have for millennia, working for the highest bidder. Old Mandalorians are considered honorable and dangerously competent amongst their deadly trade. They prioritize their family and clan above all else, and train as warriors from a young age.

Age of Rebellion, “Friends Like These”.

anonymous asked:

Do you ever see ZR out in the wild?

Not at all. It’s a nightmare from which I can’t seem to wake. When I was studying abroad at San Francisco State back in 2014-15 there were weeks where I saw a cute girl in thigh highs daily, but in all my time living in the godforsaken wastelands of rural England - a name I enunciate with the same disgust and venom as one might the word ‘tapeworm’ - I see none.

In my entire UK-based life I’ve seen one girl wearing thigh highs. One. Foreign transfer student at my University. Saw her walking down the boulevard whilst I was driving out of the parking lot, nearly crashed into a car stopped in front of me because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from what I was sure was a figment of my imagination. There was another time where I saw a girl wearing thigh highs walking towards me on the pavement, but as she drew closer I realised she was wearing those awful, tricky ‘you-think-they’re-thigh-highs-but-they’re-actually-pantyhose’ style leggings, and I was absolutely crestfallen.

You think I’m playing; I’m deadly serious. One of the main reasons I want to expatriate is to live somewhere where thigh highs aren’t sighted as infrequently as ball lightning. It’s a hell and a half.

Bedroom Window

Prompt: Hey I love you’re writing!!! I was thinking you could write a story where Clarke and Lexa are in high school and live next door to each other and one night Lexa accidentally sees Clarke changing through her bedroom windows! Thanks!!!!!

The summer had gone rogue, running roughshod over June and July, and strangling the whole of mid-Atlantic in the chokehold of a terrible and relentless humidity.  By August, those who had waited patiently for the season to raise the white flag of surrender found their hopes dashed, as the temperatures climbed even higher, and the brutal heat wave gave every indication that it intended to poke its ass into September.  In Martin’s Addition, Md., the thick, heavy heat sent most people scrambling off to air conditioned rooms, and dark, cold basements, desperate to find relief from the weather.  However, as a new school year loomed sullen and ominous on the horizon, the village’s younger residents clung desperately to the last vestiges of their liberty, braving the stifling heat to squeeze the final precious ounces of freedom from their summer.  All of them, save one.”

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YOUTH: The Hippies

uncredited writer, Time, 30 July 1967

One sociologist calls them “the Freudian proletariat.” Another observer sees them as “expatriates living on our shores but beyond our society.” Historian Arnold Toynbee describes them as “a red warning light for the American way of life.” For California’s Bishop James Pike, they evoke the early Christians: “There is something about the temper and quality of these people, a gentleness, a quietness, an interest—something good.” To their deeply worried parents throughout the country, they seem more like dangerously deluded dropouts, candidates for a very sound spanking and a cram course in civics—if only they would return home to receive either.

Whatever their meaning and wherever they may be headed, the hippies have emerged on the U.S. scene in about 18 months as a wholly new subculture, a bizarre permutation of the middle-class American ethos from which it evolved. Hippies preach altruism and mysticism, honesty, joy and nonviolence. They find an almost childish fascination in beads, blossoms and bells, blinding strobe lights and ear-shattering music, exotic clothing and erotic slogans. Their professed aim is nothing less than the subversion of Western society by “flower power” and force of example.

Although that sounds like a pipe-dream, it conveys the unreality that permeates hippiedom, a cult whose mystique derives essentially from the influence of hallucinogenic drugs. The hippies have popularized a new word, psychedelic, which the Random House Dictionary of English Language defines as: “Of or noting a mental state of great calm, intensely pleasureful perception of the senses, esthetic entrancement and creative impetus; of or noting any of the group of drugs producing this effect.” With those drugs has come the psychedelic philosophy, an impassioned belief in the self-revealing, mind-expanding powers of potent weeds and seeds and chemical compounds known to man since prehistory but wholly alien to the rationale of Western society. Unlike other accepted stimuli, from nicotine to liquor, the hallucinogens promise those who take the “trip” a magic-carpet escape from reality in which perceptions are heightened, senses distorted, and the imagination permanently bedazzled with visions of Ideological verity.

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Ten more books that have stayed with me

1. The Horse’s Mouth, by Joyce Cary. I re-read this every so often, and it remains the best novel about art and artists that I know of.
2. The Death of Virgil, by Hermann Broch. This is an extraordinary novel technically, centering around the conversation between Augustus and Virgil over the latter’s decision to burn The Aeneid. Another great novel about art.
3. Dvorak in Love, by Josef Skvorecky. Who would have guessed that one of the best novels ever written about America was written by a Czech expatriate who lived in Toronto? A chronicle, told through many voices, of Dvorak’s experiences in America.
4. Was, by Geoff Ryman. The Oz legend retold.
5. Parade’s End, by Ford Madox Ford. Ford was the bridge between two eras, pre-war and post-war.
6. Cooper, by Hilary Masters. A man faces some personal cries. It sounds simple, and it’s simply told. But it lingers.
7. Stoner, by John Williams. A book about not much—living in a Midwestern town, thankless teaching, many trials, perseverance—and the magic that reading and literature can endow.
8. To the Wedding, by John Berger. A chronicle of love under hardship, with love triumphant.
9. Invitation to a Beheading, by Vladimir Nabokov. Any Nabokov, really, but this one has a political edge that just lurks in many of his other books.
10. Morte d’Urban, by J.F. Powers. The novel that beat Nabokov’s Pale Fire for the National Book Award. It deserved to.

anonymous asked:

Black people have lower IQs

As it turned out, the research showed that the average IQ difference between black and white Americans – 15 points – was nothing unusual. Similar IQ differences could be found between various culturally isolated white communities and the general society, both in the United States and in Britain. Among various groups in India, mental test differences were slightly greater than those between blacks and whites in the United States.

In recent years, research by Professor James R. Flynn, an American expatriate living in New Zealand, has shaken up the whole IQ controversy by discovering what has been called “the Flynn effect.” In various countries around the world, people have been answering significantly more IQ test questions correctly than in the past.

This important fact has been inadvertently concealed by the practice of changing the norms on IQ tests, so that the average number of correctly answered questions remains by definition an IQ of 100. Only by painstakingly going back and recalculating IQs, based on the initial norms, was Professor Flynn able to discover that whole nations had, in effect, had their IQs rising over the decades by about 20 points.

Since the black-white difference in IQ is 15 points, this means that an even larger IQ difference has existed between different generations of the same race, making it no longer necessary to attribute IQ differences of this magnitude to genetics. In the half century between 1945 and 1995, black Americans’ raw test scores rose by the equivalent of 16 IQ points.

In other words, black Americans’ test score results in 1995 would have given them an average IQ just over 100 in 1945. Only the repeated renorming of IQ tests upward created the illusion that blacks had made no progress, but were stuck at an IQ of 85. But we would never have known this if some researchers had not defied the taboo on studying race and IQ imposed by black “leaders” and white “friends.”

Incidentally, Professor Jensen pointed out back in 1969 that black children’s IQ scores rose by 8 to 10 points after he met with them informally in a play room and then tested them again after they were more relaxed around him. He did this because “I felt these children were really brighter than their IQ would indicate.” What a shame that others seem to have less confidence in black children than Professor Jensen has had.

-Thomas Sowell

2

“Have you tried Hershey’s chocolate?” asked Nicky Perry, a longtime British expatriate living in New York.

“I’d never sell it in my store,” she said, using a string of imaginative expletives to describe how the ubiquitous American chocolate tastes to her.

Ms. Perry, a native of Blackheath, England, owns Tea & Sympathy, a tea shop and restaurant; Carry On Tea & Sympathy, a British goods store; and A Salt & Battery, a fish and chips restaurant, all in Greenwich Village.

As such, she is naturally partial to Maltesers and Flake bars. She is also positively appalled at the notion that some of her beloved chocolates will no longer be available in the United States.

As a result of a settlement with the Hershey’s Company, Let’s Buy British Imports, or L.B.B., agreed this week to stop importing all Cadbury’s chocolate made overseas. The company also agreed to halt imports on KitKat bars made in Britain; Toffee Crisps, which, because of their orange packaging, and yellow-lined brown script, too closely resemble Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups; Yorkie chocolate bars, which infringe on the York peppermint patty; and Ms. Perry’s beloved Maltesers.

“Things in the world are bad enough as it is,” Ms. Perry said, “and now you’re going to take away our chocolate?”

Jeff Beckman, a representative for Hershey’s, said L.B.B. and others were importing products not intended for sale in the United States, infringing on its trademark and trade dress licensing. For example, Hershey’s has a licensing agreement to manufacture Cadbury’s chocolate in the United States with similar packaging used overseas, though with a different recipe.

“It is important for Hershey to protect its trademark rights and to prevent consumers from being confused or misled when they see a product name or product package that is confusingly similar to a Hershey name or trade dress,” Mr. Beckman said in an email.

What many Britons and British-chocolate lovers are most incensed about is the difference in taste between chocolate made in Britain and chocolate made in the United States.

Chocolate in Britain has a higher fat content; the first ingredient listed on a British Cadbury’s Dairy Milk (plain milk chocolate) is milk. In an American-made Cadbury’s bar, the first ingredient is sugar.

American Cadbury bars also include PGPR and soy lecithin, both emulsifiers that reduce the viscosity of chocolate, giving it a longer shelf life. British Cadbury bars used vegetable fats and different emulsifiers.

An informal blind taste test comparing Cadbury Dairy Milk bars — muddled by this reporter’s garlicky lunch — suggested that Ms. Perry had reason to be upset.

The British Dairy Milk was slightly fudgier, allowing for a creamier taste and texture. The American Dairy Milk bar left a less pleasing coating and somewhat of a stale aftertaste.

Another retailer of British goods, who wished to remain anonymous because she feared reprisal from Hershey’s, said she imagined she would go out of business soon.

“Cadbury’s is about half of my business,” she said, while eating leftover Cadbury’s Christmas chocolate, “and more than that at Christmas. I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

She said she tried to import chocolate herself, but it required dealing with the Food and Drug Administration, as well as customs and the country’s Department of Agriculture, which got to be very complicated.

And because Hershey’s is looking to stop the sale of all Cadbury’s chocolate and the other bars in the United States, it might not help her to import the chocolate herself.

Mick McGurk, a London native who now lives in Houston, was visiting Carry On Tea & Sympathy on Friday and said Hershey’s was the one at fault.

“It may sound a bit childish, but they should make it the same and not cheapen it with those additives,” Mr. McGurk said.

Gail Maddick, who moved to Forest Hills, Queens, from Scotland last year, agreed, and suggested British expatriates take their grievances right to the top.

“What would Her Majesty think about all this?”

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