Drowsy Emperor

Its true. Europe has become an old society, a gerontocracy, without the fire necessary for genuine political upheaval. The sort of idea of having this stagnant state where everyone is permanently wealthy because they all never split their wealth among multiple children simply doesn't work. With civilizations, its expand or die. You have to create wealth, not just shuffle it around. The funny thing is that the EU is immensely powerful in aggregate. But they're all just pissing it away. 300 million people and not one real leader at the head of any single state? Okay. The only politician in Europe that can say he achieved a major political goal in his lifetime is Nigel Farage. Dwell on that for a moment

Oh the ultimate reason that the whole of the western world is shifting to the right is that economics have been going down the drain for decades. Its been a very slow trickle downwards, but problems have finally accumulated to the point that they can have serious political implications. At one point one man's work was enough to feed and house a family. Now both partners work like dogs and never see their children for the same result. The lower classes lack political organization and numbers to drive these changes. But enough of the middle class has eroded and is resembling the lower classes in many things except for the physicality of the work - so that when their numbers add up they can put someone like Trump in power. The intellectuals that voted out of spite because of the dishonesty of the current system are surely a minority. I don't think anything lesser of either the lower or the middle class for it - the reaction has been long overdue.

A billionaire usurped the democratic party's status as champions of the lumpenproleteriat Barkeep, get me another

Alle Juden wait

Most bizarre thing I've heard in a while.

Clinton foundation? Heard they're in need of some comfort right now

Aaand, all my tests are negative - yay. I went through the most horrible medical exam in my life for nothing - boo.

Wow, the flow is indeed much improved! The versions I posted are more burdened by old English than yours.

Quite so. The English translation took some liberties with the translation in order to keep the text flowing - the original text is slightly more gory with his "white liver" showing (perhaps not included because its sexual slang in English?). With these sort of pictures I always wonder how much authenticity the artists could portray. Some clothing and items were still available in the XX century but a lot of things had to be a "creative interpretation". Jovanovich's "Crowning of Tsar Dushan" barring some details, looks like a scene from Western Europe to me, but then there is no reason it couldn't have looked like that either.

It took us a couple of centuries to write up that one, but once we got that ball rolling, we were pretty thorough. The other day I learned that at one point Belgrade had 170 mosques. There is one now.

I can never remember the login details

"The Maiden of Kossovo" , from the same period, is a much more personal affair - describing an unnamed maiden's search for her betrothed husband among the wounded and the dead on the field of the aforementioned battle. The scene of the poem would be portrayed by a Serbian painter in 1919 The Maiden of Kossovo Early rose the maiden of Kossovo, Early rose she on a Sunday morning, Rose before the brilliant sun had risen. She has rolled the white sleeves of her robe back, Rolled them back up to her soft white elbows; On her shoulders, fair white bread she carries, In her hands two shining golden goblets, In one goblet she has poured fresh water, And has poured good red wine in the other. Then she seeks the wide plain of Kossovo, Seeks the noble Prince’s place of meeting, Wanders there amongst the bleeding heroes. When she finds one living midst the wounded Then she laves him with the cooling water, Gives him, sacramentally, the red wine, Pledges with her fair white bread the hero. Fate at last has led her wand’ring footsteps Unto Pavle Orlovitch, the hero, Who has borne the Prince’s battle-standard. From his gaping wounds the blood is streaming, His right hand and his left foot are severed-- And the hero’s ribs are crushed and broken, But he lingers still amongst the living. From the pools of blood she drags his body And she laves him with the cooling water, Red wine, sacramentally, she gives him, Pledges then with fair white bread the hero. When at length his heart revives within him, Thus speaks Pavle Orlovitch, the hero: “Oh dear sister, Maiden of Kossovo, What great need compels thee here to wander, Thou, so young, amongst the wounded heroes? What dost thou upon the field of battle? Dost thou seek a brother’s son, or brother, Dost thous seek perchance an aged father?” Answered him the Maiden of Kossovo: “Oh dear brother! Oh thou unknown warrior! None of my own race am I now seeking, Not a brother’s son nor yet a brother, Neither do I seek an agéd father. Wast thou present, oh thou unknown warrior; When for three whole weeks to all his army Prince Lazar the Sacrament was giving By the hands of thirty holy fathers, In the splendid church of Samodreha? When Lazar and all the Serbian army There the Holy Sacrament have taken, Three Voyvodas last of all did enter: First of them was Milosh, the great warrior, Ivan Kossanchich was close behind him, And the third, Toplitza Milan, followed. “I by chance stood then within the doorway When there passed young Milosh, the great warrior, In the whole world no more splendid hero; On the ground his clanking sabre trailing, Silken cap with proudly waving feathers, Many-coloured mantle on his shoulders And around his neck a silken kerchief. Then he gazes round and looks upon me, He takes off his many-coloured mantle, Takes it off, and gives it to me, saying:-- ‘Here, oh Maiden, is my coloured mantle, By it thou wilt keep me in remembrance, By this mantle shall my name live with thee. Now, dear Maid, must I go forth and perish There where camps the noble Prince’s army; Pray to God for me, dear Maid, my sister, That I may come back again in safety. And that all good fortune may attend thee I will marry thee to my friend Milan, Him whom God has given me as brother, My friend Milan who is my sworn brother. In God’s name and good Saint John’s, I promise I will be a groomsman at they wedding.’ “Ivan Kossanchitch was close behind him, In the whole world no more splendid hero; On the ground his clanking sabre trailing, Silken cap with proudly waving feathers, Many-coloured mantle on his shoulders And around his neck a silken kerchief, On his hand a golden ring is shining. Then he gazes round and looks upon me, Takes the golden ring from off his finger, Takes it off and gives it to me, saying:-- ‘Here hast thou my ring of gold, oh Maiden, By it thou wilt have me in remembrance, By this gold ring shall my name live with thee. Now, dear maid, must I go forth to perish There where camps the noble Prince’s army; Pray to God for me, dear Maid, my sister, That I may come back again in safety. And that all good fortune may attend thee I will marry thee to my friend Milan, Him whom God has given me as brother, My friend Milan who is my sworn brother. In God’s name and good Saint John’s, I promise I myself will give thee to the bridegroom.’ “Then Toplitza Milan follows after, In the whole world no more splendid hero; On the ground his clanking sabre trailing, Silken cap with proudly waving feathers, Many-coloured mantle on his shoulders And around his neck a silken kerchief, On his hand a golden ring is shining And upon his arm a golden bracelet. Then he gazes round and looks upon me, From his arm he takes the golden bracelet, Takes it off and gives it to me, saying:-- ‘Here, oh Maiden, is my golden bracelet, By it thou wilt have me in remembrance, By this gold ring shall my name live with thee. Now, dear maid, must I go forth to perish There where camps the noble Prince’s army; Pray to God for me, dear soul, my darling, That I may come back again in safety; Then, dear Maid, that good luck may attend thee, I will take thee for my true belovéd.’ “And then went away these mighty leaders, And to-day I seek them here, oh brother, Seek them here, upon the field of battle!” Pavle Orlovitch then makes her answer: “Oh dear sister, Maiden of Kossovo, Dost thou see, dear soul, those battle-lances Where they lie most thickly piled together? There has flowed the life-blood of the heroes; To the stirrups of the faithful horses, To the stirrups and the girths it mounted, Mounted to the heroes’ silken girdles, And the three have fallen there together. Now return thee to thy fair white castle Lest thy skirts and sleeves with blood be spattered.” To the hero’s words the maiden listens, Down her white face are the fast tears falling; She returns then to her fair white castle. From her white throat pour her lamentations: “Woe is me, what fate I bear within me, I but touch the young and tender sapling And the fair green pine must surely wither.”

It occurred to me that anyone who loved the poems that Tolkien (or tales of King Arthur and other European epics from the middle ages) so often created for his works would enjoy these, because, even though they aren't fantasy, they are of the sort of inspiration Tolkien might have used in the first place. The first one is "The Fall of the Serbian Empire", created and retold through the oral tradition after the battle of Kosovo in 1389 until it was collected among other such works and published in the 19th century. The battle itself was a military draw as both the Serbian prince (tsar in the poem) and the Ottoman Sultan lost their lives along with most of their men. However, the Turks could replace these losses and the Serbs could not. Therefore the poem rationalizes the death of the Tsar as a deliberate form of Christian sacrifice in order to attain the "Kingdom of Heaven" and blames his defeat on treachery - although there likely was none, with the battle simply being fought to the bitter end. The Serbian medieval state would cease to exist and become incorporated in the Ottoman empire shortly afterward. The Fall of the Serbian Empire From Jerusalem, the holy city, Flying came a swift grey bird, a falcon, And he carried in his beak a swallow. But behold and see! ’Tis not a falcon, ’Tis the holy man of God, Elias, And he does not bear with him a swallow, But a letter from God’s Holy Mother. Lo, he bears the letter to Kossovo, Drops it on the Tsar’s knees from the heavens, And thus speaks the letter to the monarch: “Tsar Lazar, thou Prince of noble lineage, What wilt thou now choose to be thy kingdom? Say, dost thou desire a heav’nly kingdom, Or dost thou prefer an earthly kingdom? If thou should’st now choose an earthly kingdom, Knights may girdle swords and saddle horses, Tighten saddle-girths and ride to battle— You will charge the Turks and crush their army! But if thou prefer a heav’nly kingdom, Build thyself a church upon Kossovo, Let not the foundations be of marble, Let them be of samite and of scarlet.... And to all thy warriors and their leaders Thou shalt give the sacraments and orders, For thine army shall most surely perish, And thou too, shalt perish with thine army.” When the Tsar had read the holy letter, Ponder’d he, and ponder’d in this manner: “Mighty God, what now shall this my choice be! Shall I choose to have a heav’nly kingdom? Shall I choose to have an earthly kingdom? If I now should choose an earthly kingdom, Lo, an earthly kingdom is but fleeting, But God’s kingdom shall endure for ever.” And the Tsar he chose a heav’nly kingdom, And he built a church upon Kossovo,— Did not bring foundation stones of marble But he brought pure samite there and scarlet; Summon’d there the Patriarch of Serbia, Summon’d there with him the twelve archbishops. Thus he gave the warriors and their leaders Holy Sacrament and battle orders. But no sooner gave the Prince his orders Than the Turkish hordes swept on Kossovo. And the Jug Bogdan leads there his army, With his sons, the Jugovitch—nine brothers, His nine sons like nine grey keen-eyed falcons, Each of them commands nine thousand warriors, And the Jug Bogdan commands twelve thousand [1]. With the Turks they fight there and they struggle, And they smite and slay there seven pashas. When the eighth advances to the battle Then doth Jug Bogdan, the old knight, perish, With his sons the Jugovitch—nine brothers, His nine sons like nine grey keen-eyed falcons, And with them doth perish all their army. Moved their army three Mernyachevichi: Ban Uglyesha and Voyvoda Goïko, And the third, the mighty King Vukáshin; And with each were thirty thousand warriors, With the Turks do they there fight and struggle, And they smite and slay eight Turkish pashas. When the ninth advances to the battle Then there perish two Mernyachevichi, Ban Uglyesha and Voyvoda Goïko; Many ugly wounds has King Vukáshin, Turks and horses wade in blood above him, And with him doth perish all his army. Moved his army then Voyvoda Stefan; And with him are many mighty warriors, Many mighty warriors—sixty thousand. With the Turks do they there fight and struggle, And they smite and slay nine Turkish pashas. When the tenth advances to the battle, There doth perish the Voyvoda Stefan, And with him doth perish all his army. Then advances Tsar Lazar the Glorious, With him moves a might host of Serbians, Seven and seventy thousand chosen warriors. They disperse the Turks upon Kossovo, No time had the Turks to look upon them, Still less time had they to stem the onslaught; Tsar Lazar and all his mighty warriors There had overwhelm’d the unbelievers, But—the curse of God be on the traitor, On Vuk Brankovitch,—he left his kinsman, He deserted him upon Kossovo: And the Turks o’erwhelmed Lazar the Glorious, And the Tsar fell on the field of battle; And with him did perish all his army, Seven and seventy thousand chosen warriors. All was done with honour, all was holy, God’s will was fulfilled upon Kossovo.

He really does play his accent for all its worth

At this point I'm pretty sure Bernie voted Trump

Political correctness is already on its way out. It will be replaced by some other form of social oppression, like being a communist in the US in the preceding period or being critical of the government, in favor of capitalism etc. in the USSR. What is taboo in a society just depends on the particular ideology of the time.

What we do in the shadows is really good as well. In a big budget Hollywood movie, the director has little say over how the final product turns out so I wouldn't be expecting much of the next Thor film. Then again, I think superhero films are a trashy, formulaic waste of money so for me Kubrick and Tarkovsky working together on the next Batman probably couldn't make it good. Incidentally I saw Dr. Strange recently. Here's my take on it in two sentences. So Cumberbach plays Dr. Sherlock House that gets his career ruined due to his arrogance and bad driving after which he departs to Kathmandu in the mystical east where in an asian temple, he meats a bald buddhist Englishwoman and a kung-fu black guy that instruct him in the ways of sorcery so he can combat a Mads Mikkelsen you wish you didn't recognize because his facial paint makes him look Avril Lavigne that's been crying for the past hour only with more purple, which is incidentally the third adjective applicable to the main antagonist, the other two being bald and wannabe-Cthulhu. He is defeated when they discover the rewind button on a mystical VCR, making the bad guy's whole gig neatly and ironically as pointless as the film itself.

I've seen a ton of trash lately but two good films stood out: Hunt for the Wilderpeople - a fine drama-comedy-adventure about an orphaned boy and his unlikely "uncle" as they evade baddies from child-protective services in the New Zealand bush. The formula has been seen before but the script is great. Perfetti Sconosciuti (Perfect Strangers) - a good relationship drama in which couples play a modern version of a truth-or-dare type game that reveals all the many secrets they kept from each other.

Malmo is the multicultural success of Sweden, where a town that was 100% Swedish went to less than 50% Swedish in the span of a generation, turning into a place where bombs are thrown on the police with depressing regularity: https://www.rt.com/news/310757-sweden-malmo-blasts-crime/ Incidentally, the second largest minority in the city are Serbs but for "some reason" you don't see them wrecking **** and beating up Swedes all that often. @Volourn; You should'nt give a Neonazi tabloid traffic. You should use, for instance, local newspapers instead. Also, alot of Serbians came to Sweden as workforce immigrants, wich helped the refugees that came later(During times, in wich Sweden did'nt use an economic model in wich you have a "natural unemployment" and saw human workforce as shirts in a warehouse. After we "upgraded" to an American model of economics our unemployment rates went from 2 to 8 percent. Bit easier to get people integrated into society when there's work for just about anyone), wich I suppose made it alot easier for them to integrate into Swedish society. I was in school when most of the 90s refugees came, and there was quite a few Serbians in my school - they were regular hoodlums that wanted to fight and vandalize stuff. They eventually relented though.(Granted, that is only personal data from me) Well, they relented and joined the neonazi's, but still. If that is not integrating into Swedish society, I don't know what is! Top kek. But its not unexpected or surprising, they really don't have much common ground with the islamic immigration so those that couldn't integrate normally would gravitate to whatever domestic extreme is available.

Malmo is the multicultural success of Sweden, where a town that was 100% Swedish went to less than 50% Swedish in the span of a generation, turning into a place where bombs are thrown on the police with depressing regularity: https://www.rt.com/news/310757-sweden-malmo-blasts-crime/ Incidentally, the second largest minority in the city are Serbs but for "some reason" you don't see them wrecking **** and beating up Swedes all that often.

I actually think he does have that mindset. From a joke candidate, to wiping the floor with every Republican professional politician, then manipulating his pariah status in the media into free publicity and subsequently spinning the entire political discourse to revolve around him and finally winning. All this from a seventy year old man - and the US election trek is physically exhausting and mentally draining even for younger people. He may have stayed in 5 star hotels all the time, but daily speeches, events, debates etc. are hard and take a lot of discipline and willpower. And all of this for what? A challenge? The guy is valued at 4 billion dollars, at his age and status he doesn't need to partake in the political cesspool - he can just hire politicians to do his bidding (as he used to). But he played the whole thing like a boss all the way to the finish line. It just may be that Americans elected the most willful and politically capable president in decades. If he doesn't reign in his attitude and let others run the show now that he's in the White House he could be a force to be reckoned with. We'll see when he starts choosing his team.

There is still hope for for Hillary Clinton

I have a feeling the real trauma is going to be when all the tests come back negative, proving the whole thing completely unnecessary.

Not my finest hour.