Manx (Gaelg or Gailck) is a Celtic language spoken in the Isle of Man. The last native speaker of Manx died in 1974, but the language has been revived and
more than 1,800 people claim to speak, read and write Manx today.
so about a few weeks ago I looked back at the season 7 trailer and noticed that there was a scene that we have yet to see. Now I was expecting to see this scene in the MSP because of Rick and TF on the highway grabbing the explosives. But no. We didn’t see it and still haven’t seen it. Sure this scene might come into play in the finale, but if not…it will go along many other missing spoilers :)
So i took screencaps of what I’m talking about
Now. Sure, this could be in the finale like i said. But why show it in the trailer at all for it to be in the final episode of this season? Usually when we get walking dead trailers it’s only the first half of the season in the trailer and we got that in the season 7 trailer. But this scene we still haven’t seen.
If this is not in the finale, then yet again it’s another puzzle and another missing spoiler. Like why include this into the trailer for the fans, to not even witness it? Why go to all that effort of shutting down a road for a day. Getting stunt doubles. Cars. ETC. for it all to just be another deleted scene or just for trailer purposes - which I hope not.
This isn’t really TD, but putting it into the tag because we all know Beth is familiar with cars. being trapped in them and all. ;-) this is just to me all a little strange and weird.
Like I said by the time the finale comes out this could all be bullshit and this will be in the episode, but right now we don’t know if we will see it at all.
Skye, or the Isle of Skye (/skaɪ/; Scottish Gaelic: An t-Eilean Sgitheanach or Eilean a’ Cheò), is the largest and most northerly major island in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland. The island’s peninsulas radiate from a mountainous centre dominated by the Cuillins, the rocky slopes of which provide some of the most dramatic mountain scenery in the country.Although it has been suggested that the Gaelic Sgitheanach describes a winged shape there is no definitive agreement as to the name’s origins. The island has been occupied since the Mesolithic period and its history includes a time of Norse rule and a long period of domination by Clan MacLeod and Clan Donald. The 18th-century Jacobite risings led to the breaking up of the clan system and subsequent Clearances that replaced entire communities with sheep farms, some of which also involved forced emigrations to distant lands. Resident numbers declined from over 20,000 in the early 19th century to just under 9,000 by the closing decade of the 20th century. Skye’s population increased by 4 per cent between 1991 and 2001.About a third of the residents were Gaelic speakers in 2001, and although their numbers are in decline, this aspect of island culture remains important. The main industries are tourism, agriculture, fishing and forestry. Skye is part of the Highland Council local government area. The island’s largest settlement is Portree, known for its picturesque harbour. There are links to various nearby islands by ferry and, since 1995, to the mainland by a road bridge. The climate is mild, wet and windy. The abundant wildlife includes the golden eagle, red deer and Atlantic salmon. The local flora is dominated by heather moor, and there are nationally important invertebrate populations on the surrounding sea bed. Skye has provided the locations for various novels and feature films and is celebrated in poetry and song.
What specifically was so scandalous about eloping (if you actually got married and didn't pull a Wickham/Lydia and live in sin for a few weeks first)?
Elopement sidestepped many restrictive elements of a traditional betrothal–both legal and honourable. If either party was younger than twenty-one, they legally required the permission of their parent or guardian in order to marry. And, in the case of a match where the individual’s family disapproves, there may still be huge ramifications in openly acknowledging an engagement–Edward Ferrars is disinherited, and Frank Churchill and Willoughby both live under this threat of losing their inheritances if they don’t toe the line and make a match which is approved of by those who have the power to cut them out of the line of inheritance. (Though they react to this in very different ways.) Secret engagements seem to be of more benefit to the young man who fears being disinherited, whereas elopements are more a means of a husband getting his hands on his wife’s legal inheritance or dowry
(any property or income a woman possessed reverting to her husband’s ownership upon the instant of her marriage. [See: Darcy, Georgiana.])
This is why the Bennets fear Wickham has no intention of actually marrying Lydia, as she has no fortune nor any great family connections which could help him to a fortune or a better career placement. Lydia, evidently, believes it is quite romantic, but as others have a better understanding of Wickham’s deceptive and mercenary nature, they can’t see a means of making Wickham marry Lydia unless there is some significant financial inducement for him to do so. (Like, Mr. Bennet could threaten to duel him, but…Wickham’s a young soldier with zero sense of honour. Who do we really think is going to come off well in that fight? Until Fitzwilliam Darcy steps in, the family cannot have much hope at all that Lydia is ever going to be retrieved, or that if she is, Wickham might ‘make an honest woman of her’. The risk is all on Lydia’s side, and Wickham could run off and do whatever he likes.)
All this fuss over elopements in England in Jane Austen’s time is largely due to legislation that came into being a generation before, with the Marriage Act of 1753. This was specifically to try and stop secret marriages from taking place, because the legal fallout was almost invariably hairy and messed-up and kidnapping young heiresses and forcing them to marry you (and yes this could include rape or as assholes liked to call it ‘forced seduction’) was a thing that happened more than once and often enough for it to be considered a risk. There were things like licenses and banns to be read and all, but these were more what you’d call ‘guidelines’ than actual rules, and all you needed was an Anglican priest to do the honours, and the marriage was legally binding.
Under the Act, Scotland was exempt, and so many border towns and villages became places for eloping couples to marry legally, in a match which could not then be considered void in England. With the toll-road passing through Gretna Green, this town in particular has become known for its elopements, and why the Bennets look for clues which may indicate that Lydia and Wickham have gone off to Scotland in general, or Gretna Green in particular. The Isle of Man was also an elopement destination for a time, but they brought in their own legislation, similar to England’s, but took it one step further: as any non-Manx priest caught performing dodgy marriages would have his ears cropped, be pilloried, imprisoned, fined, and deported.
Primarily, then, an elopement was just flying in the face of honest and honourable convention, and would taint the match with gossipy guesses as to why the couple had fled to avoid requiring parental consent or the reading of the banns. (Did the family disapprove, and why? Is one party much too young or already has a bad reputation? Is someone pregnant? Is someone a fortune-hunter? Is the match bigamous? Is it incest? These were some of the pitfalls a properly acknowledged engagement and the waiting-period of the reading of the banns were supposed to help avoid.)
And even if a couple did not “live in sin” for a number of weeks, unless they already lived very near to the Scottish borders, they would have to travel alone together–which unmarried couples did not do, at the risk of the lady’s reputation. The need to rest, eat, and change horses would require stops at coaching inns–and, unchaperoned, anything could happen. They could present themselves as man and wife to the innkeeper, and take a room together. Though they could, of course, ask for separate rooms, this might risk drawing questions and attention to themselves, which, if they were being pursued, would make witnesses more likely to recall them and point in the direction they had gone. (And, needing to travel in a carriage as no lady would ride so far on horseback, they would be moving more slowly than any man sent after them to catch them.) Closed carriages were often used for illicit hook-ups, in any case, so even if an eloping couple were caught three hours after they took to the road, before they’ve had a chance to stop for the night, the woman’s reputation would well be ruined, as it could be easily assumed they just started humping the moment they were alone in the carriage together.
So in an age of closely-guarded female virginity-as-virtue and the many legal ties of dowries and inheritances which went along with marriage, the Act of 1753 was an attempt by England to curb clandestine marriages within the country, which had been fucking up the plans of old white rich men for their children’s marriages for hundreds of years by that point…so it ultimately became harder for a couple to elope unless they had the means and gumption to make a clean getaway to Scotland, which was likely to be an extensive journey with plenty of time to get deflowered in the carriage or in a coaching-inn along the way…maybe in front of a crackling log-fire…with a bottle of the landlord’s finest brandy…in the company of that impulsive, passionate, and gorgeous creature whose love was too heady a temptation to resist even in the face of legal quagmire and dubious morality…
Don’t elope. ‘Cause you will get pregnant, and die! Don’t elope because you love someone, don’t elope because they say they love you…just don’t do it, promise? Okay, everybody take some French letters.