What are the green day ' eras ' and could u give example pics?
i usually separate most green day eras by album sound, as this band has always been evolving and changing their sound every time they release music. anyways here’s how i personally divide their eras starting from 1987 to current day
1987 - 1993 (the early days, pre-dookie)
includes the band’s formation, their first show, being signed to lookout records, releasing their first album, playing in backyards/basements to crowds of 5 people and eventually gilman, tré cool joining the band, the release of kerplunk
1994 - 1996 (rise to fame and “burning out”)
includes the release of dookie, green day becoming a household name overnight, woodstock 94′, the release of insomniac, touring nonstop for over a year and eventually having to cancel their tour due to exhaustion, as billie said it was a very confusing and overwelming time for the entire band
1997 - 2003 (experimental sounds and personal reflection)
this era is sort of long but is one of my favourites as i truly believe it is what allowed green day to be the band that they are today. it includes nimrod, warning, international superhits, and shenanigans. the release of songs such as good riddance, the band began to write whatever music they wanted to without caring about what others had to say
2004 - 2011 (reinvention, revival, and rock operas)
includes the release of american idiot and the “revival” of green day. the previous experimental era gave green day the guts to do something absolutely crazy and a full blown rock opera was the result. this era also includes bullet in a bible, foxboro hot tubs, another rock opera 21st century breakdown, american idiot on broadway, and awesome as fuck
2012 - 2015 (the trilogy and a well deserved break)
this era was a hectic one as green day released three albums in a row within the span of 5 months. it was a rough time personally for the members of green day, battling things such as addiction and cancer. this era also includes a very long (and needed) break for the band members, focus on their families and personal lives, as well as green day being inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame
2016 - now (revolution radio and happy days)
this is the era we are in now, as well as my personal favourite. green day has said themselves that they have never been healthier and happier after a long couple of years and i’m very excited to see what other great things this band will achieve in the following years. green day is currently on tour playing in australia
From now on, we will be using code names. You can address me as Eagle One. Laurens, code name--Been There, Done That. Eliza is--Currently Doing That. Hercules Mulligan is--It Happened Once in a Dream. Lafayette, code name--If I had to Pick a Frenchman. Washington is...Eagle Two.
I mean…. Mickie isn’t lying. WWE acts like the women who came before Sasha, Charlotte, Becky, etc. don’t even exist.
WWE wants us to pretend that this is just the start of the women’s revolution when Beth Phoenix, Michelle McCool, Layla, Chyna, Lita, Trish, Jazz, Mickie, etc. they been started the women’s revolution.
What’s going on now is just a continuation of that.
French Crown Jewels, the Coronation Crown of King Louis XV bejeweled with hundreds of diamonds and other precious gems from the royal collection. This is the only surviving French Royal Crown from the Ancien-Regime (before the French Revolution). Now in the Apollo Gallery in Louvre Museum, Paris.
As I noted, Paris has gone up in flames again. While I absolutely agree with the principles of the revolution, I now have a family to keep in mind and so I cannot possibly get involved. Furthermore because of my past association with Les Amis de l’ABC and my part in the events of 1832 I may already be compromised, regardless my intentions this time.
So, as you know, I have taken what precaution I could: I moved out of the country. Cosette, bless her heart, thinks that flying all across the continent, to Hungary, is excessive but I’m not willing to take any risks.
We have just finished packing out and have settled in to a dainty little apartment in Pest. I honestly doubt that anything drastic might happen in a sleepy, backwater place such as this.
I lived in Romania for two years as a missionary, from 2004-06. I grew to love that country deeply. It’s been long-burdened by its communist past; it wasn’t just a form of government, but rather a mindset that was fused into the fibers of the country. There’s no more stark a symbol of that than the block apartment buildings that fill the cities. They’re concrete from skin to marrow and each one seems intent on keeping the populace in its place.
There’s a city in the west called Hunedoara. The countryside leading to it is out of some fairy tale. There’s even a storybook castle on one side of the city. But surrounding the city is a ring of abandoned, crumbling industrial wasteland.
I remember the train rides that lead from city to city. Some of the trains were more advanced than any train I’ve seen in the United States. Others were rickety steel boxes on wheels, the floors covered in sunflower seeds and spittle. Train rides ranged from a couple hours to 8 and 13 hour train rides. As often as I rode the trains, and even for that long, I was glued to the windows, watching the country go past. It’s beautiful.
The people were warm, always – always – offering more, even when they’d already given. Especially when it came to food. They offered, sometimes, what seemed to be just about all they had. They are a generous people. I even miss the times when we were shouted at, kicked out, threatened, chocked, and spat on. I walked the streets in the fall in Sibiu, an old fortress city. I trudged through Bucharest in the winter, where the streets go unpaved. I ran down steps, two at a time, to catch the subway more times than I can count. I ran through rainstorms on the way home, soaked to the bone. I miss it all.
Some of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen, and some of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had, I saw and I had there. Some of the worst things I’ve ever seen happened there, too. It wasn’t uncommon to see a child wandering the streets. Some were beggars, whose first words taught by their parents were asking for money. For some kids, it was literally all they knew how to say, and they didn’t even know what it meant. I once saw a kid, no more than 8, huffing silver paint out of a plastic bag because it took his mind off of being so hungry all the time.
The weight of communism, even decades removed, still smothered this whole place. It hung around the necks of everyone there, even those who hadn’t yet been born. Everywhere I went, people told me stories of where they were during the Christmas Revolution of 1989.
Nicolae Ceausescu was the dictator of Romania at the time. He was vain, and cruel, and petty. Run of the mill communist dictator in the Stalin mold. Starvation and scarcity were the norm. Children, even those with parents, went hungry. To make a political point, Ceausescu cut off supplies from an entire city in the west, Timisoara. Of course, this caused more unrest than order. In a speech in what is now called Revolution Square, he spoke from a municipal building’s balcony, and tried to placate the people. But they shouted him down. Even Ceausescu loyalists (paid plants, mostly) were overpowered by the crowd’s chants. It was deafening. They stormed the building and the revolution began.
Ceausescu and his Deputy Prime Minister wife, Elena, fled, but were soon caught and convicted. The military who had served Ceausescu, and usually acted on his command, knew which way the wind was blowing, and they held a tribunal. It was quick and unanimous, and the Ceausescus were found guilty of, among other things, genocide.
Nicolae and Elena Ceausescu were executed by firing squad at a secret military installation. On Christmas day, on live television. They filmed their dead faces so that the people could know that they were really dead and gone.
A beautiful country was ransacked and oppressed by its leaders. For power, for profit, for ego. The country suffered, and eventually revolted. Romania still bears the weight of that suffering, deep in its mind and soul. Just like the concrete block apartments: skin to marrow. When last I saw the building from which Ceausescu spoke in Revolution Square, there were still bullet holes in the walls, far above reach.
Romania is a beautiful country, because of its land and its people, and despite its authoritarian past. Though knives may be removed easily enough, wounds are often stubborn to heal.
As Donald Trump, a man-child who is as vain as he is insecure, and as vengeful as he is delusional, seeks to establish himself as an infallible leader… as he orders scientific data be deleted… as he calls facts fake, and propaganda real… as he flippantly talks about committing war crimes in Iraq… as he seeks to defund arts programs and social safety nets… as he makes his press secretary tell flagrant lies about petty, obvious things like the size of his inauguration crowd… as he seeks to exhaust our capacity to think critically, and speak truth to power… as he seeks to dismantle constitutional rights, and strip the country itself in order to make money… as he continually displays signs of serious mental illness… as he proves to be not just a buffoon, but a real lunatic… I can’t help but think of Romania.
And as I think of all the inevitable harm that will come to people as a direct result of Trump’s actions, and the people that will most likely die from his orders – or possibly die in defiance of his orders – I can’t help but think of Romania.
I can’t help but think of Romania because what happened there, and in countless countries around the world and throughout history, can happen here. It is happening here, right now.
Literature, scripture, and history itself have all warned us about a guy like this. And here he is.
If you don’t like political posts, I understand. I don’t like them. Who does? But I will not be shy about this guy. Not to you, not to my representatives, and not to any Congressman/woman who seems to have dropped their spine on the way to work.
I’m mad and I’ll stay mad until this guy is no longer in charge of the nuclear codes. What happened in Romania can happen here. Serious damage was done by a two-bit dictator from eastern Europe, and Romania hasn’t yet healed in full. Imagine how long it’ll take for the United States to heal from its own president, whose capabilities far surpass Ceausescu’s. Imagine the damage Trump can inflict, the damage he seeks to inflict.
Tell me I’m wrong.
We’re only six days into the Trump presidency. This is an American Dictatorship unfolding in real time.