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Most recent 20 results returned for keyword: English Lit (Search this on MAP)

https://plus.google.com/117810899845233061189 edward j. janzen : “ORILLIA” my perspective … its interesting how life’s journeys can take one from place to place; often...
“ORILLIA”
               my perspective …
 
    its interesting how life’s journeys can take one from place to place; often unexpectantly, and at times even against one’s own wishes.
    in my own life, for example;  moving to peterborough from my hometown in guelph in 2009 was grown out of a desire to start life anew, to enjoy and prosper as someone recently retired;  to test the waters of a location familiar to myself as a young boy; having visited this place as a member of a church choir some 50 years earlier.
    the choices came down to two.  calgary or peterborough.  i chose peterborough.
    i would have never envisioned what lay before me; for, in the next 8 years, this man who had settled for a single life, would find himself in love with a woman who was in love with someone else;  be inspired by a young woman to believe that all things were possible, just to later learn that she had taken her own life; and then, as if gripped by her spirit, to find himself engaged in a creative period in his life unlike none he had ever known.
   for someone who had failed english lit in high school; all of a sudden i found myself ‘writing’;  so much so that in the next 7 years i would compose nearly 200 poems and song pieces; co-author a book with a woman from minnesota; write a novella; create dozens of short stories; leave a religion that i had devoted my life to for more than 42 years; and then write over 100 articles exposing its destructive nature on society.
    i would come to live in eight cities and towns in those seven years, owen sound being my present stop. 
    i left peterborough to pursue a love interest in bobcaygeon; then off to alpine village, lakeview estates; finally settling in lindsay, ontario; as if God was telling me i should do so; in that before a year had passed, my life would hang in the balance, having collapsed in the driveway; and then spending 5 weeks at ross memorial, three of which were spent on life support.
    before the year would end, magnetewan, and barrie, for me, would be home.
    i hated living in barrie, making orillia my next stop.
    didn’t want to leave orillia, but like lindsay and bobcaygeon; it all seemed as if what i wanted just didn’t matter.
    so now i find myself in a little town near georgian bay…owen sound.
 
    as to how long? who knows.
 
    as has been my custom, in this journey; my writings give credit to the places i have been; and orillia no exception.
    in my four months in orillia 8 poems, 8 song pieces; a short story, and the last chapter of my novella ‘Nortia’s Key’;  were written…as follows…

 poems…                                song pieces...
    ‘unrequited innocence’        ‘a christmas song’
    ‘remembrance day’               ‘more than the price i could pay’
    ‘the pages of time’                 ‘that’s what friendships do’
    ‘a matter of pride’                   ‘a lover’s plea’
    ‘o pretty one’                            ‘a friend in love with you’
     ‘cancer’                                    ‘sarah’s theme’ (Nortia’s Key)
     ‘september 11th, 2001’        ‘a love that means so much to me’
     ‘the skateboarder’                 ‘slow dancin’ (don’t make it with me)’
 
    short story …  ‘theresa and the firefly’ (parts one and two)
 
    novella … 13th chapter of ‘Nortia’s Key’
      
    someone asked me the other day what i wanted in this last chapter of my life.  i replied that all i wanted was a place where i could write; in a city or town that would let me do so.
    owen sound is a little like barrie, in that the two are conservative communities; anything unusual a cause for gathering up the kids, locking the doors, closing the windows, and shutting the blinds.  this might be unfair to owen sound in that i have only been here a few weeks, but the indicators are here. 
     for example, if jesus christ were to walk the streets of barrie, he likely would be immediately and quietly  scooped up; then dropped in a wooded area several miles outside of town, and left among the wolves;  the thinking being…’if he really is jesus christ, then the wolves will leave him alone.’
     and if jesus christ were to show up in peterborough, the first part of my journey;  he likely would have been mocked, flogged, beaten, dragged through the streets …. and THEN taken outside the town to visit with the wolves.
     conversely, if jesus christ was to show up in bobcaygeon, for example;  no one would really care; in that this little community is so used to unusual and often important people roaming their streets; and thinking nothing of it.
     orillia is the same.  having a casino nearby, and home to gordon lightfoot; the citizens of orillia would think nothing of jesus christ roaming their streets.  someone would just say  ‘o well … cher was here just last week’.
     now, of course, i am neither jesus christ, nor important….but unusual still the same…remains to be seen how this will all play out in my present location.
     its almost as if, having been isolated and insulated for more than four decades, God is now letting me see the world as He sees it; to what end, i have no idea.  i guess time will tell.
     so ‘a song for she’ now belongs to owen sound;  and hopefully with many others yet to follow.  the city is easy for me to get around in…can walk from one end to the other in about an hour.  population about 22,000.  has a walmart, at least 4 tim hortons; churches everywhere.  not much of a night life, as one would expect; but having many of the conveniences of larger municipalities, including a multiplex galaxy cinema, bowling alley, kfc and the like.
     and, i guess, for me; no matter what i may want …
                     ‘the universe is unfolding just as it should’.
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14 hours ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/104364426344221362753 Anna-Marie/Rogue Darkholme-Stark™ : My schedule is so odd.  PST by the way or pacific standard time. T/TH - Math - 10:30 am - 11:50 am English...
My schedule is so odd.  PST by the way or pacific standard time.
T/TH -
Math - 10:30 am - 11:50 am
English lit - 2:30 pm - 3:50 pm.
Really wish that class was earlier..
M- Chem - 12 pm -1:20 pm
W- Chem lab- 8:30 am - 11:50 am
Chem - 12 pm -1:50 pm.
Whoever organized that chem class is nuts. But at least I don't have to wake up early every day.
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1 day ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/112987732955064719533 Mike Vosburg : LEARNING FROM YOUR PEERS When I often explain that I have no formal art training, a lot of folks politely...
LEARNING FROM YOUR PEERS
When I often explain that I have no formal art training, a lot of folks politely smile and silently think that explains a lot, but most others are really amazed at the statement.And it’s not really true. My degree was in teaching and English Lit., and I did...
LEARNING FROM YOUR PEERS
When I often explain that I have no formal art training, a lot of folks politely smile and silently think that explains a lot, but most others are really amazed at the statement.And it’s not really true. My degree was in teac...
3 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/115925171406150867614 Rachell Roden : On this day: At 7th January of 1982, the first episode of "Fame" aired on NBC. "Fame" is an American...
On this day:
At 7th January of 1982, the first episode of "Fame" aired on NBC. "Fame" is an American television series originally produced between 1982 and 1987. The show is based on the 1980 motion picture of the same name. The popularity of the series, particularly in the UK, led to several hit records and live concert tours by the cast. Despite its success, very few of the actors maintained high-profile careers after the series was cancelled. The series won a number of Emmy awards and in 1983 and 1984 was voted the Golden Globe Awards: Television, Best Series, Musical/Comedy.

Alan Parker's film "Fame" (1980) about the artistically gifted musicians and dancers at the New York City High School for the Performing received enough acclaim to turn into a television show with the same name.

"Fame" originally appeared on NBC for a couple of years. This series was a bigger hit in Europe, than in the US. When NBC cancelled the show, the European syndicators wanted it to continue. The producers decided to try this out in syndication. What happened was TV history. The show became a breakout hit in the US and for the first time a syndicated show became viable. This lead the way to the all the other syndicated shows including "Baywatch", "Hercules" and "Highlander".

The TV-series kept some of the original cast from the film such as Debbie Allen who had a minor part in the film as the dance instructor Lydia Grant who became one of the driving forces in the TV series. Contrasting Allen's kinesthetically aptitude, the show also brought the inspiring music teacher Mr. Benjamin Shorofsky (Albert Hague) from the original film to sway the students and perfect their talents.

Unfortunately, the show did not reach the quality of Parker's film, as the series on occasion felt a little two dimensional and simplistic. Despite this, "Fame still" portrayed some intriguing elements of coming of age while trying to reach out of the shadow into the light of fame.

The first season opens with an introduction to the school of the extraordinarily gifted student, as the school receives a new group of students in the episode 'Metamorphosis'. Through the first episode and forward the audience gets to experience the difficulties of being a teen in a highly competitive environment where success means almost everything. Yet, the show manages to touch on several different issues such as compassion in 'A Big Finish' where they help the janitor back on his feet.

There are also many other coming of age issues that come into focus including friendships, drugs, and education. One of the more amusing episodes, 'Tomorrow's Farewell', provides an interesting perspective on how dance compares with physical education, as it also offers movement and coordination versus a football team. There is also the traditional struggle with identity in the show, as these teens face success and failure in a continuous up and down fashion.

The show's theme song was a pop hit for singer Irene Cara, having been featured in the motion picture. A re-recorded version of the theme, using similar instrumentation to the 1980 track, was used in the TV series and sung by co-star Erica Gimpel, who played Coco Hernandez.

She replaced Irene Cara, the original actress of that role in the movie, after she had disagreements, issues with the people behind "Fame" and her record company with regards to royalty payments for her hit, 'Fame'. In addition, the roles of Montgomery and wisecracks Doris Schwaltz and Danny Armatullo were performed by P.R Paul, Valarie Lansberg and Carlo Imperato respectively.

Carol Mayo Jenkins played English Lit teacher, Miss Sherwood, Professor Shorofsky was undertaken by the late Albert Hague and last but not least, Lydia Grant; who having lusted after Leroy in the movie, became a hard- as- nails, tough talking drill sergeant/ dance tutor.

She was played by the ever talented and sublime, Debbie Allen. Debbie Allen's role in the movie was once again very minor, but in the show itself, she became a regular cast member and as Lydia waved her magic wand, slipped on her dancing shoes and danced and sang like never before. For all her production, directorial efforts on other shows, her association with "Fame" will live on in memory for generations to come.

She was in many respects, the heartbeat of and driving force behind 'Fame's success and phenomenon. Almost everything she touched turned to gold. Debbie choreographed most of the dance routines, directed and produced the show, as well as act, dance and she sang on the show too.

In a time when art is exploding through the immense use of the Internet, it is nice to be able to return to the 1980s and see how the performing arts were expressed more than thirty years ago. It is also a nice change from the many criminal, comedy, and governmental sitcoms that now air and have been shown over the decades.

In the end, "Fame" has a terrific entertainment value; especially, if the audience is interested in music and dance, which would make this show is a definite must see.

#Fame #TVShows #80sTVShows
#Onthisday #TVSeries #MusicalShow
#TVShow #TeenSeries #Musical
#TV #NBC #Television #Fame35ThAnniversary
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5 days ago - Via Reshared Post - View -
https://plus.google.com/114520425769998340049 Hamid Miyan :

English Lit. – Essay Writing: P.E.E. Breakdown (four/7)
Visit the post for more.
9 days ago - Via - View -
https://plus.google.com/113856801156894737264 A f e e s a h : Iamthatblogger Faire Hijabi YESTERDAY · PUBLIC I am AFISAH, graduated of Education and majoring English...
Iamthatblogger Faire Hijabi YESTERDAY · PUBLIC I am AFISAH, graduated of Education and majoring English (Lit.Gr.Ling.). At first, it was not what I wanna be but it’s the only choice I had in that University (Somewhere in Marawi City, PH) I mean, it was…
[WordPress.com] How I Started? I mean the blog site I manage. How much do I struggle?
Iamthatblogger Faire Hijabi YESTERDAY · PUBLIC I am AFISAH, graduated of Education and majoring English (Lit.Gr.Ling.). At first, it was not what I wanna be but it’s the only choice I had in that U…
11 days ago - Via - View -
https://plus.google.com/109286144438875587811 Amy Fyfe : English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Tuesday January 5th • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 130-137 (through...
English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Tuesday
January 5th • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 130-137 (through Chapter 5) • Due Tuesday: o Complete Chapter 5 questions on page 137.  Submit to the Dropbox folder in the usual format. *Continue working on your Project 2 paper! Remember: the final draft is due Thursday, ...
English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Tuesday
January 5th • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 130-137 (through Chapter 5) • Due Tuesday: o Complete Chapter 5 questions on page 137. Submit to the Dropbox folder in the usual format. *Continue working on your Project 2 paper! Remember:...
12 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/109286144438875587811 Amy Fyfe : English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Thursday, 1/5 January 3rd  • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 127-130 (...
English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Thursday, 1/5
January 3rd  • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 127-130 (through Chapter 3) • Due Thursday:  o Complete Chapter 3 questions on page 130.  Submit to the Dropbox folder in the usual format. *If you have time, I recommend working ahead on Tuesday's homework, which is answer...
English Lit. Quarter 2 Week 6 Homework Due Thursday, 1/5
January 3rd • Read: Unit 5, pgs. 127-130 (through Chapter 3) • Due Thursday: o Complete Chapter 3 questions on page 130. Submit to the Dropbox folder in the usual format. *If you have time, I recommend working ahead on T...
14 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/104443157476699740687 Michael Adams : Resolute Everyone has a story to tell...Maybe not a good or great story, maybe not a prize winning or...
Resolute
Everyone has a story to tell...Maybe not a good or great story, maybe not a prize winning or world changing story...But a story. Back in college my English Lit teacher beat into our minds that any good story should begin somewhere in the middle, never at th...
Resolute
Everyone has a story to tell...Maybe not a good or great story, maybe not a prize winning or world changing story...But a story. Back in college my English Lit teacher beat into our minds that any good story should begin some...
16 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/111194999501516517607 Mari Muthu : Hi! I am Marimuthu from India. I am born blind I am doing my BA in english lit.
Hi! I am Marimuthu from India. I am born blind
I am doing my BA in english lit.
19 days ago - Via Community - View -
https://plus.google.com/115507757041296617255 Debbie Reese : For several days, I've curated articles, FB posts, and Twitter threads about Joseph Boyden and his claim...
For several days, I've curated articles, FB posts, and Twitter threads about Joseph Boyden and his claim to Native identity. A colleague (@Ojibray) put them all into a Storify. If you are a teacher or librarian or English Lit prof who teaches Native literature, this is a very important moment. Boyden's profile is equal to that of Sherman Alexie's (there are no doubts about Alexie's identity). 
Discussion from Twitterrific (with image, tweets) · Ojibray
Discussion from Twitterrific
22 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/100610174774578256820 Eleanor Stadnyk : Heading SOUTH . . . and Ukrainian Buckwheat Varenyky Bye, Vesper.  Stay warm, sweetie.   Good-bye, Snow...
Heading SOUTH . . . and Ukrainian Buckwheat Varenyky
Bye, Vesper.  Stay warm, sweetie.   Good-bye, Snow.     Along the way, we'll be reading some history . . . recommended by Nestor. . . and more history . . . and this . . . recommended by Kathy. . .  and some 19th century English lit . . . and, for sheer com...
Heading SOUTH . . . and Ukrainian Buckwheat Varenyky
Bye, Vesper. Stay warm, sweetie. Good-bye, Snow. Along the way, we'll be reading some history . . . recommended by Nestor. . . and more history . . . and this . . . recommended by Kathy. . . ...
24 days ago - Via Google+ - View -
https://plus.google.com/112285541187258612182 sahan udana dommanige : agree???
agree???
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25 days ago - Via Reshared Post - View -
https://plus.google.com/105258927296350635153 Balalaika Pavlovna : ✦░Class S░✦ ░Quotes ░ there is reason I don't teach grade school and there is a reason I don't teach...
✦░Class S░✦


░Quotes ░

there is reason I don't teach grade school and there is a reason I don't teach Jr high. You all are young adults now, kindly act as so.

A room without books is like a body without a soul.

When life get's me down, I wake up, smile, and don my best outfit

People are like dice. You throw yourself in the direction of your own choosing. People are free because they can do that. Everyone's circumstances are different, but no matter how small the choice, at the very least, you can throw yourself. It's not chance or fate. It's the choice you made.

If I let myself feel satisfied and start slacking off, even once, it's all downhill from there.

No one lives forever, that's just the way it goes. Don't waste your life on stupid games

Do you know what the most primitive emotion people have is? It's fear.



░Name:░
Ayano Keiko



░Gender:░
Female



░Alias: ░
It would be highly inappropriate for students to nickname her. Just Keikosensei will do.



░Meaning:░
Ayano: Scarlett
Keiko: Respect(ful) child



░Species:░
Human



░Age:░
31



░Mental Age:░
31



░Physical Age:░
In terms of her appearance...I'd say 29



░Height:░
5 11"



░Weight:░
120 Ib



░Skills:░
Ayano is well versed in the skill of grading papers. That however goes without saying. She can write perfect scripture with both hands, play the piano, read and quote shakespearian. In addition she is trilingual knowing Japanese, English, and French. Oh, and teaching, Ayano also likes to think she's good at that.



░Likes:░
Ayano particularly enjoys those students in which she feels can carry a mature conversation. She enjoys the days where she feels accomplished in her job. Reading is a big pastime of hers as well. She loves clothes but is not impulsive about buying them. Ever the animal lover, Ayano has always had a soft spot for dogs...hers in particular.If you're looking to take her out on a date, art galleries and symphony concerts are a must.Her favorite gem is a tiger's eye. She favors roses above all other flowers. Lastly you must know that although this woman may not look it, she is wicked smart with a gun and after a rough week loves to take it out at the local shooting range.



░Dislikes:░
Ayano has very little tolerance for immature students in fact, zero tolerance. Loud gum chewers are also destine to meet a certain fate in her classroom. While not allergic to pineapple she is almost as the smell alone makes her puke. If there was a color she hated it would be neon...like, neon anything. While not entirely apposed to rap and metal music, it's not her favorite. Among many personality traits, liars and lazy people are simply unexceptable. She also dislikes bubbly personalities, preferring a more even toned one.



░Appearance:░
Ayano is tall, with a fair complexion and an average build. She has a firm jaw line and defined cheekbones.Her full lips are set under a pointed nose and dark brown eyes. She wears little makeup equalling out to wine colored lipstick and some eyeliner. Her red hair she wears down or up in a tight bun at the top of her head. She prefers more dated clothes (the American forties being her favorite style)



░Personality:░
She is straightforward and honest. If you want something in her class, it will usually be available, all you have to do is ask. She is a big supporter of self advocation This woman is, while outspoken, is an introvert at heart. She has been accused as heartless, but only so to those she does not like. It is a hit or miss with this woman, she will be your biggest ally or your worst enemy- sometimes both. Ayano is self assured and level headed. While gaining the respect of her students and co workers, she has siamotainously managed to distance herself. She struggles with abandonment issues resulting in her always being the comforter-not the comforted. This of course is the reason why not many people know that much about her. Her rule: let someone get to close, and they'll be gone before I can say hello. Stripped down, Ayano is a introspective and somewhat lonely woman
.


░Bio:░
Ayano grew up with a single mother and one older brother. As a child, Ayano was always interested in the villains of the fairytales. Not the princess, not the princes, or even the fairy godmothers. They were just too obvious, to predictable. In her mind, the villains deserved a happy ever after too. Does she think of herself as a villain, of course not. However she's not a princess either.

Durning her years in Jr high, she was soft spoken. She stood up for what she believed is right, that has never changed. When she did speak, it was poignant. Throughout this, her brother was dealing with some hard issues with their mother. The tension was alway high at hime, so Ayano sought comfort in her studies. Her teachers inspired her to learn and to work hard. She did.

At the ripe age of 16, her brother committed sucide after loosing the mobility of his legs after an accident. Ayano threw herself into her studies. She lost most of her connections with childhood friends. She was determined to change the world. She was a bright girl, excelling in all of her classes.And it paid off, with a full scholarship.

Her collage years were confusing. Her transition into society and comforts other than books and papers was baffling. Her outspoken and blunt nature often got her into the bad sides of people. While her words were never lacking tact nor truth, Ayano quickly learned that people did not want to know the truth. They wanted to delude to what was most beneficial to them.

By 25 she was on her way to becoming a government official. Shortly before leaving for the capital, her mother fell ill. She was forced to decline the job offer and settle to care for her mother. The longer she stayed there, the more town grew on Ayano. Her mother passed away two years later but Ayano had already started to call this place home. While she was nursing her mother, she picked up odd jobs here and there. She even started a shift as an assistant at a modest boutique.

After the death of her mother however, Ayano began to re-aline her priorates. She no longer wished to move from this city. Instead she started to look for jobs alining closer to what her original interests were: literature. Upon hearing there was an open position at the local high school, Ayano jumped at the chance, teaching English Lit with a full Doctorates degree in her resumé. The job, easily won, was now hers.

She settled into her job with surprising vigor. She soon learned that caring for her students was the most effective and efficient way to teach. Please understand, Ayano never mothered these people, never held them to her breast and hid them from the world. She doesn't do that. No, instead she persuades them to want to learn, to treasure every word hidden in fine print behind the letters. And in some way, she's not so lonely anymore.
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29 days ago - Via Reshared Post - View -
https://plus.google.com/106133971391555756181 Hrishikesh Puthenmadom : What do you guys think about Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru? It's called My Teen...
What do you guys think about Yahari Ore no Seishun Love Comedy wa Machigatteiru? It's called My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU in English
30 days ago - Via Community - View -
https://plus.google.com/101408893126812513019 Katie May : Currently revising for English Lit mocks? Here's some useful tips to get that A!
Currently revising for English Lit mocks? Here's some useful tips to get that A!
Watch the video: How To Revise A Level (+GCSE) English Literature | Katie May
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Hey guys! So not too long ago I finished my A Levels, as someone who is going on to take English Literature at Uni next year I thought I would share some of my tips on how to revise! These tips are also relevant to GCSE English Literature (I did exactly the same for those exams too)! I hope you find this useful! Let me know how you revise English Lit in the comments down below! Love Katie xxx __ Check out my other videos: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvhxzZUT8NsPv32ciPu0Egg Watch my last video: Christmas Stocking Fillers - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDCA9FqRUDw __ Where else to find me: Twitter: twitter.com/katie_may07 Instagram: instagram.com/katie_may07 Thanks for watching!
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https://plus.google.com/106879120221068665434 Andrew Cowley : The Siege It was a hot summer in the Provence region of Southern France the year was 1199 and a young...
The Siege

It was a hot summer in the Provence region of Southern France the year was 1199 and a young family was planning to make the dangerous journey from their home in Foix to Lourdes. There were two families and two sisters connected them, they had always been close and promised that it would always be so. They were lucky in the fact that their husbands were good friends. The eldest of the sisters was Matilda she was plain in appearance though she had lovely blue eyes and a smile that let you know she had a kind heart. Her sister Maud was three years her junior and had been put upon with chores and other burdens by their parents, this had made her somewhat stern though she had inherited their mothers good looks.

Matilda's husband was Tobias he was a tall strong man, not handsome but loving and kind and you could tell that they were still very much in love. Tobias was from the Jewish population and originally came from the town of Arle but he had no desire to stay within the strictures of his people and ran away when he was very young. Tobias was a carpenter, his wagon was filled with fine grained woods and tools and though table, chairs and cabinets paid the bills he loved to make carvings. The sills of the wagon was filled with intricate scrimshaw and figurines that he had made. His eyes lit when he was carving or talking about it and every night he took out his tools and made sure they were in tip-top condition. He would pick up a tool he hadn't used in a while and make the motions in the air with it, all the time speaking a commentary on how it would cut through the wood and the type of groove it would leave.

They had two children, a son named Torm and a daughter named Sky. Torm was the eldest at the age of 11 and his sister Sky was his junior at the age of 8 they both got on really well and Tobias had instilled in his son a protective spirit for his sister. They were happy to play and sing and dance together and didn't need much else. Like most children they still groaned and complained when it came time to do their chores.

Maud's Husband was named Gerrard and he was a simple man of less means, he worked with hides and leathers. Their wagon was filled with the skins of goats and the fleece of sheep, the hide of ox and the pelt of wolf. He was somewhat battered and downtrodden by the strong will and sharp tongue of his wife Maud. He liked nothing better than to walk ahead or behind the wagon, all on his own with his thoughts. He still loved her.

They had only a son, Frederick named after a powerful noble of the region for Maud believed that names had power and if you had a powerful name you were destined to be powerful in life. Fred was a cheeky chap and always in trouble, he had been told he was the best, great, destined, and powerful and so he played his part. Gerrard was never allowed by his wife to discipline him and so he gets away with things that he should not. He is now 13 and should be starting to take on the role of support in the family business but working hides is beneath Maud's son so he looks for an apprenticeship that may never come.

The families are travelling to Lourdes for the healing waters there; Maud has a lump on her leg an open sore in the middle that goes all the way down to the bone. She is in pain most days and the local leech, at great expense, wanted to cut off her leg. After much talk Maud got her way and the two families are uprooting and going to Lourdes to get the healing waters.

Undertaking such a journey is dangerous, for the mountains and foothills are filled with men and monsters bent on way-laying such travellers for their goods, gold and women. It is still too early for the harvest caravans to be moving around and so attaching to a large group is unlikely; their best hope is to find others who wish to travel and offer them a deal.

Tobias has been to all the taverns and guildhalls in Foix and made it known that they are seeking travelling companions of good characters to make the journey to Lourdes. Should any wish to join they should meet at the town square at sunrise of the Monday. It is all that could be done, the families could not afford to hire guards, they had to hope that someone who answers their call is martial trained and equipped.

The first to arrive that Monday morning was a gent in a very well to do set of worsted robes, his finger stained with inks and his knapsack had a dozen goose feathers sticking out.

"Good morning good folk, my name is Albert Dulance - scribe, scholar and teacher of young minds. I would very much like to join you on your journey to Lourdes. I have money for food and can pay my way by teaching your children letters, law and history of the great Paladin Roland". he looked at each of them with a hopeful but sad look in his eyes. Maud turned to Matilda, "He's got money for food, I suppose that's something, for all we know he's the only one who is going to turn up". Matilda rubbed her chin "I don't know, I'm not sure I want my kids to know about Paladins and stuff".

Even before Matilda had finished her words Maud had waved at the scribe and shouted at him from the wagon "Your in". He beamed a big smile, "Excellent, you will not regret it, I have some bags that I would like to stow if that is okay" gesturing to the morning shadows a servant brought three large bags and loaded them onto the wagon. Matilda looked at Maud disapprovingly, "It begins".

They waited and a few minutes passed before a large man came into the square, he was wearing full chainmail and was armed, he carried a shield and a servant carried a large leather war saddle. "Hail good wives and men of skill, I am called Reynaud a poor knight trying to make his way back to his homelands. I would be grateful if you would allow me to join you on this journey for my home is not far from Lourdes. I have no money or food but can offer my sword and skill as protection along the way. If you see fit to accept me."?

"Oh yes"! both Maud and Matilda agreed in unison. "Where's your horse"? Matilda questioned, a sad look came over the knight’s face. "I had to sell my horse for ship passage from Acre to Marseilles. They knew from his demeanour not to probe more on this point.

Seconds later a third man came forth from the streets of Foix, he was hard to judge, he wore good quality cloth and was armed with a strange blade, curved and light. He carried a wooden shield like those of the Northmen. His skin was dark and wrinkled like those of the Moors yet he spoke as native of Provence; his tongue was littered and crass as a man of the fields. "I'll join you, you would be wise to have someone like me with you. I have made the journey before and know short routes and how to avoid the dangers". While he had an unsavoury and strange feel to him, none could deny they needed a guide. He offered them no name and none was asked for as he climbed up on the board with Tobias.

"Seems he's decided he's coming with us" Matilda said sarcastically. Maud nodded in disbelief.

They had run out of time to wait any longer, the wagon along the mountain tracks didn't make good distances and so they needed all the time of the day they could eke out. They would be lucky to make 10 miles in a day. They began to roll down the cobbles as the market stalls of Foix began to set up and the smells of bread, fully cooked filled the air. As they reached the gates a small man, his arms filled with bread, pastries and sweets of all kinds jumped aboard the last wagon. "Don't forget me", he shouted as made the jump with ease still holding onto his goods. Seeing the ladies and their children looking at his full embrace of goodness he dropped them into the middle of them, "Enjoy, eat - breakfast is on me, Johnny Goodfellow" his French had a distinct English lit to it, though it was obvious he must have spent considerable time here.

The pastries were still warm as the moms and kids dived into the feast before them. Matilda gave Torm several pieces to take up front to his father and the wagons rolled out of town with hopeful smiles on everyone's faces.

In the distance, unheard by those eating, came shouts of THIEF from the town square.

After two days travel they had got a better feel for their travelling companions, Johnny was a comedian always making them laugh, he could juggle and he did magic tricks making a golden coin appear and disappear from behind little Sky's ears. Sir Reynaud was a religious man, he worshiped and prayed all the time and once when Tobias hit his thumb and cursed it seemed that his words actually caused the Knight pain. Other than thank-you's and please and good morning and good night; he didn't say much. Albert the scribe was too chatty, he constantly blurted out facts and knowledge about geography or history or religion or spoke in Latin or some strange tongue. Torm was intrigued by his knowledge, everyone else yawned and walked away. The nameless fellow seemed to sleep all day and then spend the night outside the camp, he hadn't eaten with the group in two days. On the morning of the third day huge bear tracks were found just outside the camp and everyone got really panicked over it. He opened one eye and said in his strange accent - "Wouldn't worry about that, he's not a threat to the group" and then went back to sleep.

By the time the group had reached the outskirts of Lourdes they had become good friends, that was except for the nameless stranger who had slept through it all. They came upon Lourdes in the late hours of Friday: it was 9pm and the sun was a red ball on the horizon and the mountains shade left the city in darkness; except for the fires that burned on the thatched roofs of the dwellings. A sound no one ever wants to hear twice came from the city, it was the sound of metal on metal, the sound of crackling fires the sounds of women and men being killed the sounds of apocalypse.

They all looked on from their lofty perch, agog at the carnage below. A visceral scream echoed up the valley and the women burst into tears and dragged the children back to the wagons. The nameless one was awake and watching tiny figures move around below, on occasion a volley of flame arrows would dart out and another fire would begin. "Well, that's a right pickle" said the nameless one.

Gerrard looked at Tobias, "We should hide and wait till morn and we have family to think of". Tobias gritted his teeth. "I can't do nothing, if I stand here and watch hundreds die how will my wife ever look at me the same way again; how will my son respect his father".

Johnny had an evil look in his eye, "I''m going, there are things to be done this night, things that the likes of Gerrard can't do, things that the likes of me were born to do".

"I do my best work at night, said the nameless one".

At the shock of everyone Albert the scribe stepped forward, "I'm in, you'll need me, I have studied Archimedes, Tacitus and Sun Tzu, I am no stranger to the art of war and I have several tricks up my sleeve".

Sir Reynaud placed his foot atop a rock and drew his sword, pointing at the fray below. "Listen now noble men, there are dark deeds to be done this day and death may yet catch up with us. Fear not I say, for our blood is not spilled for naught, with every drop we save a woman or a youngster or a babe yet plucked from his mother’s belly. Should we survive this night then oldsters will next year cry at the remembrance of this day, but we shall bear our metal and show them the nicks and bends and tell them, I was there that night. We will weave a tale of our noble deeds and their tears shall turn from those of woe to those of wonder. On! On! you noblest men, for the bravery in your hearts is a fight for legions!"

Making their way down into the valley would have been an easy thing, if they had better light and didn't have to worry about being spotted by soldiers. As it was they froze in place every time a rock tumbled down the slope, checking left and right to see if the patrols on the road had seen or heard them. What should have been a 10 min scree run turned into a half hour torture test. When they finally got to the bottom of the valley they made their way to the riverbank and hid in the reeds; from there they took time to catch their breath. Looking around the place was so beautiful - the late sun had set the mountains on fire; all around it seemed as though they were encircled by towers of flames.

There were bridges over the river but they were guarded by a dozen or more soldier, alert and ready for trouble; no, that was not the way. They would have to cross the river, they found a wide and shallow section and were about to cross. The nameless fellow motioned them to wait, he left and was gone for several minutes, just when they were about to leave without him he returned with arms full of staves. “Here, face upstream to the flow and use these like a third leg; have two points of contact with the riverbed at all times. This water may only be waist deep but it’s fast and you could easily be swept away”. They were passed out around the group and they formed into a line with their poles outward into the flow of the river. Tobias was admiring the cut end of the staff, “sheared with a single blow, that curved blade must be really sharp” he thought to himself as he was nudged by Johnny into the water.

It was cold mountain water and they all shivered and gritted their teeth against the biting daggers that cut into the soft parts of the legs and groin. Deep breaths and curses followed them across the river, several times someone found a deep hole and was saved from a tumble by the long staff that they had. Each in turn silently thanked the nameless one for his initiative, for none of them could swim and would either have drowned or be filled with arrows as they were swept passed a guard post.

They got to the other side and looked back across the river and up the valley; Tobias thought he could see the faces of his family looking down from their hiding spot. Everyone was shaking with the cold and trying to dry off as best they could. From here they could smell the smoke from the burning city. “What is the plan here?”, Johnny quizzed. Reynaud answered with “We should avoid the main streets and try to make our way to the citadel, if we can pick up survivors along the way we can get them to safety. We just have to hope that the invaders, whoever they are, haven’t managed to cordon off entrances to the keep yet”. Johnny shook his head, "too early they will still be looting house and getting their goodies back to their camp”. Sir Reynaud gave everyone a stern look, “That's the plan then, minor pathways to the citadel and take into our protection any citizens we come across. Be prepared and alert here, we may have to fight yet, before we reach safety”. Everyone nodded and drew their weapons.

Reynaud had a Spanish cruciform longsword, the steel there was of a better quality than the home metallurgy, it was favoured by the Crusaders; broad and long it had good reach and chopping power. Johnny was armed with two long double edged daggers; he had them on lanyards attached to his wrists. Tobias had his twin headed felling axe, sharp, heavy and practically part of his body from continual use over the years. The scribe seemed to be happy with a staff. The nameless one had his curved scimitar, a blade Sir Reynaud knew all about from his time in the Holy Lands. It was of Damascus steel, patterned grey and sliver all along the blade; in the fiery evening light it looked like a flaming serpent was in his hands.

Softly they trod and entered the city, not knowing if they were stealthing their way to their deaths.

The smoke inside the city was worse than they had expected, you could only see over to the next house and the blackness filled your nose and lungs making them burn. Occasionally you could see further as the heat from a fire lifted the smoke, the mountains pressed down here and kept the smoke in the city.

They had made it a quarter of the way to the main citadel the winding paths and confusion in the smoke had turned them around several times. They had several patrols but the smoke had covered them and they had managed to avoid any conflict. Up ahead however, they had to cross a main street; this was where it got more dangerous. “Quick and decisive”, Johnny said; his English Saxony showing through under stress. “Don’t look around, keep your head up and use your side vision to spot any dangers. Just keep going for the alley”.

They were half way across when from out of the smoke filled alley came three shadowy figures at speed. The group tensed but soon saw that it was a mother, father and their young daughter. They were black with soot from the fires and fear oozed from their eyes. The mother had spear in her hands and the father was using both of his to hold closed a wound on his side. The young girl, without a tear was wide eyed and almost looked like she was in a trance. They were looking behind them as though something was coming after them.

“We are here to help” Sir Reynaud had to shout it three times before the mother would lower her spear, by then it was too late the chasers were upon them. Six men and two dogs.

The men looked like any other man-at-arms from the region; they wore a leather tunic with metal rings, carried a small wooden round shield, a pot helm and were armed with a spear. They all wore cloaks of black and red stripes running from top to bottom. The dogs were different, they were huge, standing as tall as a pony, their eyes glowed red they had black teeth and fur; their paws were more like cloven hooves and they smelled of brimstone. Hellhounds.

They were ready to fight, when Johnny stepped forward a smile on his face, “Hey, back off, these are ours now” he said swaggering with confidence towards them. “They’re taking us to their house, got loot they reckon”. Now he was patting one of the dogs. Just as their leader was about to object, the two soldiers standing next to Johnny dropped to the floor, leaving Johnny with a Cheshire-cat smile and his two dagger dripping blood. “Have some of that”! He screamed – “four left plus the mutts”.

The others didn’t need any more prompting; Sir Reynaud leapt and in a single bound was on the lead hellhound. His blade came down with a practiced swing; a great blow from a belted knight cleaved the dogs head completely off. Fire grouted out of its neck where blood should have flowed, lapping around Reynaud’s armoured legs. Johnny took the leader in the throat with another blow from his dagger, he was dead but still managed to get a stab in with his spear and Johnny took a nasty stab wound into the upper part of his leg. Johnny winced and cursed the soldier’s tenacity, spitting on him as he fell to the floor holding the dagger wound in his throat.

Albert began to trace a shape in the air with his staff and was chanting in some strange language. The last Hellhound seemed to understand because his ear picked up and hackles rose on his back. Fires burned in his eyes and he began a long deep breath. Seeing this, Albert sped up his chants and movements of his staff. The nameless one moved passed the Hellhound, causing him to pause in his deep breath, so as to get to the remaining soldiers. He swept several blows at them but they were ready now and deflected his swipes with their shields, leaving long deep cuts in the wood. They jabbed at him with their spear and several blows struck home but seemed to do no damage.

Tobias held his axe in front of him, eyes wide, nostrils flared and feet stuck to the floor; he was frozen to the spot with fear. The young girl ran behind him and hugged his leg, the mother and father came over too, standing close as though he was some sort of rock in a lake, a safe haven. Little did they know of the turmoil inside him.

Reynaud had recovered his sword and was cocked for another blow; his first swipe shattered the defenders shield, his arm hanging broken and useless. The follow up thrust took him under the ribcage and sent him to the ground forever. Then with practiced movements the knight sprang to his left swiftly changing his position giving him the shield-less side of his next opponent.

Albert’s chants got louder has he finished the ritual, just in time too for as the hellhound opened its maw to breath hellfire over everyone, the ground lit up with a blue nimbus. The fire and smoke was sucked in and the hellhound yowled and ran in circles trying desperately to escape some invisible fence. He slowly got smaller and smaller then vanished. Everyone, even the enemy had stopped and looked with open jaws at Albert. “Vedic ritual of Banishment” he said casually; shrugging, “I guessed it was worth a try”. Then everyone snapped out of their fug and rejoined trying to kill each other.

Johnny came out of the shadows, his daggers whirling the soldier was fixed upon the knight and never saw the twin blades bury into back where no rings could stop the blows. Startled he turned only to meet two more dagger blows, he dropped without a sound. “And then there were none”, Johnny laughed before collapsing to one leg, his wounds gushed blood and his face turned white.

"I've got you" the nameless one caught him as he was about to fall and laid him down softly on the warm cobbles. He tore the leggings so he could see the wound, "It's deep and dirty, I need to treat this before we go on. Quick, water someone afore he bleeds to death!?" Tobias offered his waterskin and it was snatched from his hands. Opening a belt-pouch the hairy stranger pulled out some white moss and pouring water into the wound he used the to moss to scrape out the dirt and filth the hellish spear had left behind. He tossed to moss aside and them back into the pouch he pulled out some strange berries, crushing them he let their juice enter the wound. Johnny squealed, going limp, on the verge of passing out. The bleeding stopped and the wound took on a purple stain. Next he opened a small box, the others couldn't see what was in there but it was moving. Several large black insects were placed on the wound and bit down suturing the wound closed. Their heads torn off to leave them as safety-pins across the wound.

"He will be able to walk now, it will be healed by the morning; though he will have a scar it shouldn't affect his movement". The others patted the nameless healer on the back with whispers of well done.

Johnny grabbed his hand for help to regain his feet, "I never forget things like this, I always make good. Thank you, sincerely".

The stranger smiled, "I suspect your actions tonight will make you worth the trouble".

"Come on lets get off the main street" Sir Reynaud ushers the group back into the dark alley to continue their journey to the citadel.

"It looks like hell is also interested in the miracles of Lourdes"

Tobias said a prayer, his first in many years.
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https://plus.google.com/100042162248825564031 Vic “Charlie” Sage : Ally File #14 Blue Beetle The Blue Beetle is Ted Kord. Growing up, Ted was extraordinarily bright. ...
Ally File #14 Blue Beetle

The Blue Beetle is Ted Kord. Growing up, Ted was extraordinarily bright. He was good at science, business, and everything else he tried. In college, he received degrees in Physics, English Lit, and Theoretical Mathematics. He considered joining his father's business, Kord Omniversal Research and Development, Inc, of Chicago, but overall, he had no real direction.

Ted trained himself to his physical peak, constructed an aerial vehicle affectionately nicknamed the "Bug", made himself a Blue Beetle costume, and set out to establish his own identity as a superhero, using his wit, agility, and a large number of gadgets to stop evildoers.

After losing his wife, Ted's father neglected Kord Omniversal, letting it become a shell of its former self. Ted revitalized the company, building it up until it became one of the top R&D companies in the USA, rivaling S.T.A.R. Labs.

Rivaling Batman's inventive mind, Ted was the creator of many inventions and crime-fighting technologies, like his solar-powered "Bug" vehicle, BB gun, and many more. He also ran a company, Kord Industries, which produces hundreds of new technologies. Kord was an accomplished acrobat, who more often than not, utilized this greatly into his hand-to-hand fighting style.


I have no need to compile various methods to neutralize Kord. We are extremely evenly matched. Not to mention... Ted Kord may be one of the only people on this planet I come even close to trusting with my life.
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https://plus.google.com/117827813366720848373 Tharushi Edirisinghe : Ada English lit krpu aya ehema nadda..brothers & sisters???😲😲😲...ethakota anith ewa krpu aththanta...
Ada English lit krpu aya ehema nadda..brothers & sisters???😲😲😲...ethakota anith ewa krpu aththanta lehesida?lazyda?
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https://plus.google.com/107892486816713506477 Faith Bicknell-Brown : For those of you who like graphic novels, Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi is really good, entertaining...
For those of you who like graphic novels, Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi is really good, entertaining. I read it for one of my English Lit selections recently. Thought it would be lame and boring but I quite enjoyed it and the humor in a few places had me in stitches. https://www.amazon.com/Complete-Persepolis-Marjane-Satrapi/dp/0375714839/
The Complete Persepolis: Marjane Satrapi: 8601400799079: Amazon.com: Books
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