golden lad

Okay so I just got online and I haven’t read much about analyzing the Kingsman 2 trailer yet.

But I’m just gonna say I think it’s significant that his hair isn’t styled??

Even when he woke up from the coma he styled his hair before anything else, it was slicked back when he was applying what I can only assume was aftershave. harry is super image conscious his hair is also darker and shorter here, more brown and not so blond.

Is this going to be some James Bond ‘I took the opportunity to ‘die’ for a little bit and just enjoy being dead’ bullshit

That room is suspect as hell too look at how it’s all white and padded yet scuffed??

I’m wondering if maybe this is part of the dream sequence we saw in the teaser. We saw the digital butterflies flying in 3d from Harry’s walls and Mr Pickle, even though we know at the very beginning of the movie Harry’s house and the Kingsman base blow up.

The trailer JUST came out like an hour ago so I haven’t had time to sit down and thoroughly comb through every frame for thoughts and projections, but I’m pulling out a few things because Harry’s comeback is particularly interesting and they’re giving us strange clues in the trailers

 And I’m leaning toward this shot we see of Harry isn’t legitimate. More like a drug induced dream sequence. With the amount of food shots we see for Poppy (I know she has a diner but bare with me) and the golden bottles in the preview, what if they’re carrying a drug of some kind? Eggsy would be a test for it in some capacity, where he hallucinates Harry and Harry’s house - I’m guessing - after seeing something hinting at Harry being alive whether it be photos or videos or straight up seeing Harry.

I don’t think Harry’s not in it sincerely or anything, he totally is. But maybe not this specific shot.

Is anyone following me am I talking out my ass here

yellosubbub  asked:

So are there any differences in personality from pre-Ottoman Ottoman and post-Ottoman Turkey?

To answer this I need to do a short documentary on the evolution of aph turkey. And maskless. Because why not.

Baby in the steppes aph Turkey is a cheeky one, boisterous and reckless. He enjoys simple pleasures and his simple life. He might be impressionable and a bit of a crybaby, though. Because he’s damn sensitive. He’s already hyperactive, too.

The lil Seljuk Turk didn’t change that much, but suddenly he’s very ambitious. He wants to be a powerful nation. And he’s a wanted warrior, he likes to fight a lot. And he’s way more curious than he used to be, everyone and everything interests him. But still sensitive little lad.

Ottoman Golden Age Turkey gained too much power to be humble about it. He’s super strong, also a huge show off, he likes expensive stuff and he imposes his style. He’s extremely stubborn,  his sensitivity turned into a “quick to anger” type. He’s very strict about his own rules and as long as they’re respected, he doesn’t care about the rest. However he’s still a cheerful guy and can actually be nice, he’s just a little too unpredictable on his emotional state.

Ottoman Decline/Dissolution Turkey is angry. All the time. He’s a big grump, he’s even more strict about his rules and doesn’t care about being harsh. He’s extremely touchy and moody, surrounded by a gloomy aura. He’s not as active as he used to be because he’s often tired and wounded.

Republic of Turkey is back to being a cheerful and lively guy. He’s still quick to anger with some people and on some topics, but he’s as quick to forget why he was angry in the first place. Still a show off, still stubborn, yet he got some of his sensitivity and curiousity back, and he’s usually very friendly.  

So, in short : yes. but short answers are less interesting aren’t they.

  • Hook: I'm going to kill you, Crocodile!
  • Hook: at noon on my ship
  • Hook:
  • Hook: well okay fine, maybe next time when I ambush you in the woods
  • Hook: later today, I think
  • Hook: or tomorrow
  • Hook: but I'm definitely gonna do it! Nyah!
  • Rumple: really? Because I feel like you're just going to keep talking about it
  • Hook: isn't that what I'm supposed to do?
  • Rumple: what?
  • Hook: I thought that's how it works!
  • Rumple: well it's not very effective is it
  • Hook: I learned it by watching you! :(
  • Rumple:
  • Rumple: yes well
  • Rumple: probably one of many bad choices you've made
  • Hook: shut up, at least I'm not going on and on about the stars in the hat and the stars in the sky
Hamlet and Melancholy - essay by Peter Holbrook

No science has yet explored the inferno in which were forged the deformations that later emerge to daylight as cheerfulness, openness, sociability, successful adaptation to the inevitable, an equable, practical frame of mind.

–Theodor Adorno, Minima Moralia: Reflections from Damaged Life (1951); trans. E.F.N. Jephcott (London, 1974), p. 59.

The possibility of this sickness [of despair] is man’s advantage over the beast.

–Søren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death (1849), trans. Alastair Hannay (London, 1989), pp. 44-5.

Hamlet is English literature’s great melancholic: like Shakespeare’s fellow dramatist John Webster (as characterized by T.S. Eliot), the Prince of Denmark is ‘much possessed by death’.  The play opens with the appearance of Hamlet’s father’s ghost and concludes with a graveyard scene, followed by Hamlet’s death along with those of many others.  Hamlet’s death-drenched atmosphere drew a rebuke in 1930 from the critic G. Wilson Knight, who in a brilliant (and typically idiosyncratic) essay portrayed Hamlet as more than half in love with easeful Death—as an enemy of life.  For Knight, Claudius’s court at Elsinore was essentially a fun-loving, sensual place, and Hamlet a sort of sex-hating, spectral, neurotic ascetic. It is a perverse interpretation, one that fails to take account of Hamlet’s own sense of fun (see his send-ups of Polonius) or his warm, lively, wholesome relationships with others, from his friend Horatio to the actors who visit Elsinore.  But you can see how such a view of Hamlet might come about: he often seems to speak to us from beyond the grave, which, in the ‘To be, or not to be’ speech, he imagines both in terms of an afterlife and as total dissolution (it’s not clear which vision of death prevails in the play).

But another way in which melancholy enters into the world of Hamlet is in the form of social and political critique.  True, the period linked melancholy to mental disorder—but also to insight, even genius. An ancient work traditionally assigned to Aristotle had asked why those distinguished in philosophy, politics, poetry, or the arts happened to be melancholic; and the Renaissance humanist Marsilio Ficino had likewise associated genius with melancholy. So melancholy might yield knowledge.  In Hamlet Shakespeare seems to find something of value in the melancholic temperament—in particular, he associates it with an attitude of reflectiveness about political and social matters.

What is problematic in the play is the kind of coercive happiness urged by Claudius (the Usurper) and the all-too-human Gertrude. The Queen urges Hamlet to have done with grief for his father:

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know’st ’tis common: all that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.


And Claudius follows suit, telling Hamlet that

                                     … to persever

In obstinate condolement is a course

Of impious stubbornness, ’tis unmanly grief,

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,

An understanding simple and unschool’d;

For what we know must be, and is as common

As any the most vulgar thing to sense—

Why should we in our peevish opposition

Take it to heart?



In both speeches Hamlet is taken to task for separating himself from the ordinary course of grief—which, it is accepted, must eventually have a conclusion: one should have done with mourning because it is non-functional, non-adaptive; it unfits one for life.  Notice too that non-normative grieving of Hamlet’s kind marks one out as un-‘common’.  Melancholy singularizes Hamlet, separates him from others.  But it also marks him off from what turns out to be a profoundly seamy and corrupt world, indeed a murderous tyranny.  Hamlet refuses the kind of compulsory contentment Gertrude’s and Claudius’s words recommend—the notion that one must fit in, play one’s part, not make waves.  

Precisely, then, because it puts us outside society, melancholy is potentially a source of critical insight. It is significant that Claudius reproaches Hamlet for resisting what the King presents as the natural order of things.  Hamlet’s behavior is ‘obstinate’, a piece of ‘stubbornness’ and ‘peevish opposition’ that shows ‘a mind impatient’.  Obstinacy, stubbornness, non-compliance: not qualities dear to tyrants and slave-drivers, who prefer to rule over happy idiots rather than unhappy thinkers.  

Hamlet is deeply critical of tyranny. And melancholy—which is, and not to put too fine a point on it, noticing how atrocious things are—is a precondition for real criticism.  Glass-half-full types are unlikely to mount a revolution, or stand up to a dictator.  Witness one of Hamlet’s most famous speeches, his confession of melancholy to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, apparently old friends of Hamlet’s but now working as Claudius’s spies. ‘I have of late’, observes Hamlet to these bootlickers,


wherefore I know not–lost all my mirth, forgone all

custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily

with my disposition that this goodly frame, the

earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most

excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave

o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted

with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to

me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.

What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!

how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how

express and admirable! in action how like an angel!

in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the

world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,

what is this quintessence of dust? (2.2.297-310)

Hamlet here speaks to an old theme in tragedy, that of dissolution and futility. Man may well be ‘the beauty of the world’, ‘the paragon’, or ideal type, ‘of animals’, but it is all for naught, because, like the ‘Golden lads and girls’ of Shakespeare’s Cymbeline, he will eventually ‘come to dust’ (4.2.262, 263). But Hamlet’s pessimism has a social, as well as a metaphysical, cause—has as much to do with tyranny as with mortality. He is led to this despairing vision of life only fifty or so lines after declaring to these spies that ‘Denmark’s a prison’ (2.2.244). What Hamlet responds to is life in a political and social prison; and what presses in upon him is the enormous gap that exists between what man could be and what, under such conditions, he actually is.  Man is ‘infinite’ in potential or ‘faculties’—he really could be almost anything, could have the power and rational self-direction and dignity of an ‘angel’ or a ‘god’—if only he was permitted to develop these powers.  But instead he is worth no more than ‘dust’, is nothing more than a slave and prisoner. Shakespeare seems to have been preoccupied in Hamlet with this theme of a human potential (most obviously, Hamlet’s) thwarted by tyranny.      Later in the play Hamlet muses on the true ends of a properly human life:  ‘What is a man’, he asks,

If his chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed?  A beast, no more.

Sure he that made us with such large discourse,

Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and godlike reason

To fust in us unused.  (4.4.33-9)

Hamlet asserts that the principal ‘good’ and profit or purpose of human life is the free exercise of rational and discursive powers (consciousness being the faculty that, at least here, marks us off from the animals).  Our Maker, he claims, did not give us consciousness—this ‘godlike reason’ and ‘large discourse’ (or power of speech)—for it to grow mouldy in us through lack of use. But of course it is precisely under a tyranny that such ‘capabilities’ as reason and speech fall into decay—because the last thing a tyrant wants, of course, is a populace speaking and reasoning freely.  Tyrants want their subjects distracted by sleeping, feeding, sex, entertainments.  They prefer ruling passive and unthinking ‘beasts’ rather than reflective and inquiring human beings.   Claudius’s problem is that the Prince of Denmark is not such a ‘beast’: he’d rather think and be unhappy than not think and be happy. Perhaps in that sense Hamlet is a model for us today.


Peter Holbrook is Professor of Shakespeare and English Renaissance Literature at the University of Queensland, Australia, and Chair of the International Shakespeare Association, which is holding its tenth World Congress in Stratford-upon-Avon and London in the Summer of 2016.  His most recent book is English Renaissance Tragedy: Ideas of Freedom (London: Bloomsbury/Arden Shakespeare, 2015), from which some material has been borrowed for this essay.

All Shakespeare quotations are taken from The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works, ed. Richard Proudfoot, Ann Thompson and David Scott Kastan; Consultant Editor Harold Jenkins (London: Methuen, 2001).


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A Valentine's treat: a sweetbox slice of a future Fairy Tale of Panem

The other day the-peeta-pocket was feeling blue so I offered to dig through my hard drive to see if I had anything fluffy and not-yet-posted that I could share as a cheer-up treat. <3 I realized almost immediately that I, in fact, have a substantial portion of an incomplete oneshot lurking around which is, for the most part, quite fluffy, and after carving out a nice little askbox-sized nugget of prose I got to thinking, “Why couldn’t I post the whole finished portion?” This Valentine’s day is promising to be a rough one for several of us and, well……I thought it might be nice right about now to present a romance that is grounded in compassion and affection and honest-to-God love.

Not to mention, as Valentinesque fics go, this one’s got swans, the moon, wishes, strawberries, candied violets, even red ribbons (the appearance of which pre-dates Ch 11 of WtM, but they actually fit the sweetheart concept perfectly!), all wrapped up in fairytale trappings.

So without further ado, here is a big ol’ chunk of my Crane Wife Everlark fic (requested by and written for alonglineofbread, eons ago now :/). If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you will have seen the first portion of this last (2013) Christmas Eve Eve, but the rest, minus a few SSS’s, should be new to you.

Enjoy, and merry Valentines to you. <3

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