Forest Home, Idaho
International Women’s Day was first celebrated in the early 20th century in several nations, organized by various different groups and coinciding with a period of rapid growth for many different women’s rights organizations and movements. In 1908, the women’s committee of the American Socialist Party designated February 28 as a National Woman’s Day. In 1911, at the Second International Conference of Socialist Women in Copenhagen, European socialist leaders proposed that an International Women’s Day be recognized March 8 of the following year. Early on, the holiday was explicitly concerned with class and women workers; although the Conference of Socialist Women declared that its "foremost purpose [must] be to aid the attainment of women’s suffrage", delegate Alexandra Kollontai, justifying the need for such a day, wrote in a 1913 Pravda article:
What is the aim of the feminists? Their aim is to achieve the same advantages, the same power, the same rights within capitalist society as those possessed now by their husbands, fathers and brothers. What is the aim of the women workers? Their aim is to abolish all privileges deriving from birth or wealth…
Let a joyous sense of serving the common class cause and of fighting simultaneously for their own female emancipation inspire women workers to join in the celebration of Women’s Day.
The widespread commemoration of International Women’s Day waned in some countries after the 1920s and 30s, although the Soviet Union and People’s Republic of China each declared that it be celebrated as a national holiday. The upsurge in feminist activity in the 1960s and 70s also marked, in the Western world, the mainstream rediscovery of the event, which the United Nations adopted as an official commemorative day in 1977.
The theme for International Women’s Day 2014 commemorations, as set by the United Nations, is “Equality for women is progress for all.”
Happy International Women’s Day! Here are 8 films from women around the world. To see more, be sure to check this list here that I have been compiling.
The Apple (Samira Makhmalbaf, Iran), The Arch (Tang Shu Shuen, Hong Kong), Mossane (Safi Faye, Senegal), Daughters of the Dust (Julie Dash, United States), The Girls (Sumitra Peries, Sri Lanka), The Brickmakers (Marta Rodríguez & Jorge Silva, Colombia), The Fourth Dimension (Trinh T. Minh-ha, United States), Sambizanga (Sarah Maldoror, Angola)
Russian Imperial Palaces → The Alexander Palace
The Alexander Palace at Tsarskoe Selo remains a popular favourite of many Romanov enthusiasts. The palace was the main residence of the last Imperial Family of Russia, which is around 30 minutes by train from Saint Petersburg. The Alexander Palace is situated in the Alexander Park, not far from the larger Catherine Palace. It was commissioned by Catherine the Great for her favorite grandson, Grand Duke Alexander Pavlovich, the future emperor Alexander I of Russia. After Alexander’s accession to the throne, the palace was used as the summer residence of the heir to the throne.
The palace is most famous though for the role it played in the reign of the last tsar, Nicholas II. He and his wife Alexandra Feodorovna always loved the palace and decided to make it their permanent residence after the Bloody Sunday which made the Winter Palace dangerous for them. They remodeled the former two-story ballroom into the Maple Room and the New Study and added rooms for their children on the floor above. To the horror of the court, considered by the aristocracy to be “middle class” and less than “Imperial”, one of these most famous rooms is Alexandra’s Mauve Boudoir. After the palace endured the damages from the World Wars, it is now undergoing renovation as a museum housing relics of the former imperial dynasty.
It sure looks a lot like Arrakis/Dune (I realized about twenty minutes after making it like wait a second…)
Russian Imperial Palaces → The Peterhof Palace
The Peterhof Palace is a series of palaces and gardens located in Saint Petersburg, Russia, laid out on the orders of Peter the Great. These palaces and gardens are sometimes referred as the “Russian Versailles”. Peter the Great was fascinated with the Western culture and wanted to built a palace similar to what Peter saw during his frequent trips to France, Germany, and Austria. In 1884, Emperor Nicholas II and his wife Empress Alexandra, met as teenagers at the Palace.
The Peterhof Palace is known today for the extravagant water fountains. All of the fountains operate without the use of pumps. Water is supplied from natural springs and collects in reservoirs in the Upper Gardens. The elevation difference creates the pressure that drives most of the fountains of the Lower Gardens, including the Grand Cascade. The Samson Fountain is supplied by a special aqueduct, over four km in length, drawing water and pressure from a high-elevation source.
Peterhof, like Tsarskoe Selo, was captured by German troops in 1941 and held until 1944. Employees were only able to save a portion of the treasures of the palaces and fountains before the occupying forces of the German Army invaded Peterhof. Many of the fountains were destroyed, and the palace was partially exploded and left to burn. Restoration work began almost immediately after the end of the war and continues to this day. The Palace is painted white and gold today. However, back in the Romanovs’ time, the roof was painted green and the walls wine-red.
(Laughing and crying is the only appropriate reaction. Ever.)
(WHY WOULD YOU BRING THEODEN INTO THIS CONVERSATION?)(DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO GET THE IDEA TO GO THERE?)(Oh wait I used this gif earlier too…)
(BECAUSE WE’LL BRING ALL OUR FAVOURITES UNENDING SUFFERING THAT’S WHY)
(Un.Relenting. Tragedy. All the time, nonstop. Except it’s those moments where it stops, the shy kisses and quiet looks and nights spent up laughing that make the return of the pain worse)
(*sobbing like laughing**laughing like sobbing* The worst thing is that while those moments DO exist, the knowledge that absolute pain will soon follow never fades)
(It’s the moments of hope like the flickering of the candle that make the tragedy 300% worse)
(do you have ANY idea how much this latest bout of world building has HAUNTED ME THESE PAST FEW DAYS! HAUNTED ME! FOR DAYS!)
My brain’s already going in the direction of all the possible political pulls among planets and what the distance can mean, how it changes the game, how it can wear at old hurts and “Gondor calls for help” would be in a much flashier way and I kind of want to see that.
That trope is just a pit of blood watered down by tears and we keep on making it worse and those of the First Age, oh, how bright must have shined their hope! (good luck on the finals, I almost hope they’re enough to keep you from writing fic because DAMN those will hurt if this world building is anything to go by!) (not really, write it! write it all! bring all the suffering onto us, unsuspecting souls!)
UNGOLIANT! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO UNGOLIANT! I mean, the idea that she is that myth whispered in the silences between heartbeats, when light covers all and there is no shadow in sight (unless you want her to listen, because the shadows are her ears and eyes and figners and oh, so many have died in shadows and fed the myth… fed /her/ and kept her alive, stronger than any other machine, creature and man)… but then, fuck, damnit, THE BOAT IS BEING HELD, I REPEAT THE BOAT IS BEING HELD! A machine… you’ve made her a MACHINE! (created by Melkor’s own hand?) A cyborg that learnt too fast, became too smart and stole treasures and the light and she MAKES HER CHILDREN and you bet she releases them onto the universe I LOVE THIS.
(And yes, yes I brought it up because BALANCE and the BG are shifty as hell and they’re waiting for that who will bring the balance (in their favour) and so did the Jedi and branching out and trying to find personal gain is such a human trait and they’ll always be human no matter what and yes, yes, SIth BG now you see why I was flailing so much!
And the First Age parallel to the Old Republic! And the pillars of power and the rising threat and those who want to crumble down and they move and plan and they’re the tallest pieces on the board (but they’re not the players, never the players) and then there’s Fili, the pawn that could have been more and he /knows/ but will never be /able to/ and the board WILL BE COVERED IN WATER AND DARKNESS AND FIRE YES!)
(sorry, I needed to get that off my chest, apparently)
Everything will be so different for Kili after that point… because up until then he could have never even accepted the possibility of taking his brother’s life; he HAS devoted himself to the Cult, the Cult for his FAMILY and how could he ever do that? but then he /sees/ and now he knows too and oh, how hard will it be for that child now.
(there’s something we haven’t discussed yet and I think it’s time because more pain (so much pain, and isn’t that the point?) but who will die first of the brothers? or will they go together? will one snuff out the otehr’s light? take his own immediately afterwards? face a punishment meant for them/for the other/ for himself? Oh, I don’t think they could ever outlive the otehr for too long… the only image that comes to mind is their hands clasped tight… and maybe sand on their knuckles.)
(Kili’s earliest memories being of the Baron… of this monster facing his brother and his brother standing tall and unafraid against it… oh, Kili, my darling child…)
(what, he’s a flower, my flower, and will stab them all, WHAT! I think I might even use that as a tag when the Bilbo feels get to bursting points from now on)
(DORI! NO! STOP IT! STOP!)
(YOU SEE I WAS RIGHT TO BRING THEODEN INTO THIS)
(Yeah can’t say I’m ever much better with the haunting business. Still crying over Fingon okay)
Dude, Gondor calls for aid. Like, it could go some different ways. I imagine them as twin planets but maybe with like moons, and the system of relays would be on the moons, a flare big enough to be seen from space from moon to moon around the dark side of Rohan until they would look up in the night sky and see fire on the moon above them. Or, alternatively, old radio relays, and their tech would be crap, they would have been living on the borderlands so long of a scattered empire, and there’s never been back up or allies for them, just them slowly sinking further and further toward defeat with no one coming to save them. So they’ve lost the shine, the luster of their old civilization, they’ve sacrificed most of their tech to the battle, so now they have radios that crackle and fall apart and are held together by hope and duck tape until one day, the same words are repeated over and over, breaking the fading out but the person saying them is yelling them, “Gondor calls for aid”
(Ugh finals)(It’s like this 3 week fiasco this quarter of “oh shit gotta do gotta do gotta do”) Hope and wild messiahs. THIS IS MY THING, THIS IS MY LIFE. Those people who throw their lives their hope away in the darkness that swallows them whole but maybe maybe maybe it was enough of a dent it won’t eat the others. (Sacrificial wild messiahs. Never. Over. It.)
Yeeees she is the shadow that remained, a myth now but all too real. A creature, a monster once that Melkor … modified shall we saw, bending her into something new, something darker and something as eternal as he (Her hate would always have been eternal and now her body is)(The boat is so fucking held). So she waits, eats the unspecting (the Guild has an embargo on her planet, they refuse to travel there so it’s been rarer, but in the godless days of the King Emperor they come again, a new world to be settled, new lands to tame, new resources to use but it’s not, oh it’s not a dream, it’s a horror film where she hunts the new settlers, cannibalizes their ships and makes new children…)
(No, no, no, you don’t understand, the fucking Old Republic and sith and jedi and /Revan/ (*wails forever*) first sacrificial wild messiah of my heart! (fuck canon it does not exist) and the old empires, the old worlds, and the BG who are dark, who let emotion rule them and serve their own power with no good for the galaxy—wait aren’t they basically the Honored Matres then? Aren’t they the ones who come streaming back into the galaxy when the shadows become /too much/ for even them to bear?
Fili as the pawn who should have been king no I don’t love you anymore for bringing CHESS into this)
(Chess is beautiful though because it’s a logical game, but timed, and Thorin would be standing above the water even as the spaces are covered/burned away so he could still see the enemy but no longer how to move, where to move, and pieces are being swallowed/burned up/drowned at every turn and it’s not just having them taken by the enemy it’s /loosing/ them…)
It would come so dangerously close to breaking Kili, to finally understanding what he’s been avoiding for so long. It’s just just hearing or thinking, it’s seeing, it’s knowing he was willing and /could have/ because that /wasn’t Fili anymore/ there was no brother behind those eyes. But he loves, and loves, and he’s loved too much and now it’s slipping between his fingers like sand, like water and bleeding out of his chest and he can’t hold anything anymore. (Maybe this is what Fili feels like when he goes away, because Kili almost felt this when he took too much spice before he almost killed himself with it, and Kili understands too much now)
(And he was born in that moment, always and always circling around his brother, even the child who killed their great-grandfather)
(Tis a good tag)
(I really hope both of the Knights of the Old Republic game are at my parents house and not here now…)
(Meanwhile, your songs for this post: Innocence by Halestorm, Apres Moi by Regina Spektor.)