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Marvin Gaye’s voice isolated from music, "I heard It through the grapevine" from 1967.
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If you're old enough, you will recognize this sounds and appreciate the spectrogram of a dial up modem handshake.
[🎞️ Scotty H]
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In Budapest, there is a fountain that looks like an open book. At regular intervals, a sheet of water curves to one side to give the illusion of a page being turned
📹 Da Min
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Regarded as "the most accomplished Flamenco dancer of all time," Carmen Amaya was the first female to master the complex footwork typically reserved for top male dancers.
This footage shows her dancing in 1944 when she was around 30 years old. Amaya was born into a poverty-stricken family in Barcelona in 1913.
From the tender age of 4, she began to accompany her guitarist father at night, performing in pubs where they danced and sang to earn a living by gathering the coins that patrons would toss onto the floor.
Progressively, she moved from pubs to performing in minor theaters.
In 1929, her name was etched in print for the first time in a local newspaper when art critic Sebastià Gasch gave the following review:
"Suddenly a jump! And the gypsy girl danced. Indescribable. Soul. Pure Soul. Feeling made flesh. The floorboards vibrated with unprecedented brutality and incredible precision. La Capitana was a gross product of Nature. Like all gypsies, She must have been born dancing. It was before school, before the academy.
All that she knows, She must have known from birth. Promptly, the viewer feels subjugated, upset, dominated by the face of La Capitana, by her fierce hip movements, by the bravery of her pirouettes and the force of her broken turns, whose animal ardor ran parallel with the astonishing accuracy with which she executed them.
The raging battery of her heels and the unsteady play of her arms now aroused, excited, then collapsing, surrendered, abandoned, dead, gently moved by the shoulders, are still recorded in our memories like indelible plaques. what caused us to look at her dance was her nerve, which twisted her in dramatic contortions, her blood, her violence, her wild impetuosity as a caste dancer."
Her fame grew, and she soon found herself in the company of Hollywood celebrities. In 1941, she graced the stage at Carnegie Hall in New York and was invited to perform at the White House by Franklin D. Roosevelt. Amaya's life was tragically cut short due to kidney failure in 1963 at the age of 50.
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A frog that ate a firefly
teapawt.net/AlexOlszewski/status/1…
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That time a drawing instructor made a chalk drawing on a horse to show the articulation of a horse's skeleton
[📹 Hannah Diazart]
teapawt.net/OhMyMangos/status/8940…
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Michael Smith wrote this moving account of the fate that befell many of the Signers of the Declaration of Independence:
Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence?
Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.
Two lost their sons in the revolutionary army, another had two sons captured. Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the revolutionary war.
They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.
What kind of men were they? Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners, men of means, well educated. But they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.
Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.
Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.
Vandals or soldiers or both, looted the properties of Ellery, Clymer, Hall, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.
At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. The owner quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.
Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.
John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished. A few weeks later he died from exhaustion and a broken heart. Norris and Livingston suffered similar fates.
Such were the stories and sacrifices of the American Revolution. These were not wild eyed, rabble-rousing ruffians. They were soft-spoken men of means and education. They had security, but they valued liberty more. Standing tall, straight, and unwavering, they pledged: ‘For the support of this declaration, with firm reliance on the protection of the divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other, our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.’”

























