Henri Rousseau Exotic Landscape

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worrying, as "Slumdog", despite all the hype to the contrary, delivers a deeply disempowering narrative about the poor that thoroughly undermines, if not totally negates, its seeming message of social justice.
"Slumdog" has -speaking man who is already a rising media phenomenon. Beggar-makers do round-up abandoned children and mutilate them in order to make them more sympathetic, though it is highly improbable that any such child will ever chance upon a $100 bill, much less be capable of identifying it by touch and scent alone.angered many Indians because it tarnishes their perception of their country as a rising economic power and a beacon of democracy. India's English-language papers, read mainly by its middle classes, have carried many bristling reviews of the film that convey an acute sense of wounded national pride. While understandable, the sentiment is not defensible. Though at times embarrassingly contrived, most of the film's heartrending scenarios are inspired by a sad, but well-documented reality.Corruption is certainly rampant among the police, and many will gladly use torture, though none is probably dim enough to target an articulate, English

William Merritt Chase Reflections

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him thoughtfully.
But the growing length of bark held. Rincewind began to congratulate himself until, looking up, he saw what he had hitherto not noticed. There was the largest hornets' nest he had ever seen, hanging right in his path.
He shut his The circle suddenly expanded.
The concerted yelp of pain as the pack fought to escape the furious cloud echoed among the trees. Rincewind grinned inanely.
Rincewind's elbow nudged something. It was the tree trunk. The strip had carried him right to the end of the branch. But there were no other branches. The smooth bark beside eyes tightly.Why the troll? he asked himself. Everything else is just my usual luck, but why the troll? What the hell is going on?Click. It may have been a twig snapping, except that the sound appeared to be inside Rincewind's head. Click, click. And a breeze that failed to set a single leaf atremble.The hornets' nest was ripped from the branch as the strip passed by. It shot past the wizard's head and he watched it grow smaller as it plummeted towards the circle of upturned muzzles.The circle suddenly closed.

Edward Hopper A Woman in the Sun

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Then there came another jerk, so sudden that it threw them all to the floor again, and the basket began to sink with frightening speed, spinning all the while. It felt as if they had torn loose from the balloon, and were dropping unchecked by anything; and then came another series of jerks and crashes, the basket being tossed rapidly from to lorek Byrnison's fur with passionate fear. Howls, shrieks, the lash and whistle of the wind, the creak of the basket like a tormented animal, all filled the wild air with hideous noise.
Then came the biggest jolt of all, and she found herself hurled out altogether. Her grip was torn loose, and all the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she landed in such a tangle that she couldn't tell which way was up; and her face in the tight-pulled hood was full of powder, dry, cold, crystals-
It was snow; she had landed in a snowdrift. She was so battered that she could hardly side to side as if they were bouncing between rock walls.The last thing Lyra saw was Lee Scoresby firing his long-barreled pistol directly in the face of a cliff-ghast; and then she shut her eyes tight, and clung

Paul Gauguin The Vision After the Sermon

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Lyra felt a thrill of fear. There was only one thing this could mean.
"Ah," said the doctor, relieved to find the conversation turning to another subject, "there's a real advance. With the first model we could never entirely overcome the risk of " the patient dying of shock, but we've improved that no shock to below five percent."
"And the new instrument?" said Mrs. Coulter.
Lyra was trembling. The blood was pounding in her ears, and Pantalaimon was pressing his ermine form against her side, and whispering, "Hush, Lyra, they won't do it-we won't let them do it-"end.""The Skraelings did it better by hand," said a man who hadn't spoken yet."Centuries of practice," said the other man."But simply tearing was the only option for some time," said the main speaker, "however distressing that was to the adult operators. If you remember, we had to discharge quite a number for reasons of stress-related anxiety. But the first big breakthrough was the use of anesthesia combined with the Maystadt anbaric scalpel. We were able to reduce death from operative

Thomas Kinkade HOMETOWN MEMORIES

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What? Where?"
"See that picture..." He meant the big photogram of the tropical beach. "If you look in the top right corner, you see that ceiling panel?"
The ceiling consisted of large rectangular panels set in a framework of metal strips, and the corner of the panel above the banged on a table with a spoon and began to speak.
"Listen, children," he said. "Listen carefully. Every so often we have to have a fire drill. It's very important that we all get dressed properly and make our way outside without any panic. So we're going to have a practice fire drill this afternoon. When the bell, rings you must stop whatever you're doing and do what the nearest grownup says. Remember where they take you. That's the place you must go to if there's a real picture had lifted slightly."I saw that," Roger said, "and I thought the others might be like it, so I lifted 'em, and they're all loose. They just lift up. Me and this boy tried it one night in our dormitory, before they took him away. There's a space up there and you can crawl inside....""How far can you crawl in the ceiling?""I dunno. We just went in a little way. We reckoned when it was time we could hide up there, but they'd probably find us."Lyra saw it not as a hiding place but as a highway. It was the best thing she'd heard since she'd arrived. But before they could talk any more, a doctor fire

Leonardo da Vinci original picture of the last supper

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sleepiness, but it was too strong; he curled up as a mouse inside her hood. He could tell her when they woke, and it was probably a marten, or a dream, or some kind of harmless local spirit; but something was following the train of sledges, to read it?" he said.
The moon itself had long set. The light from the Aurora was brighter than moonlight, but it was inconstant. However, Lyra's eyes were keen, and she fumbled inside her furs and tugged out the black velvet bag.
"Yes, I can see all right," she said. "But I know where most of the symbols are by now anyway. What shall I ask it, Lord Faa?"
"I want to know more about how they're defending this place, Bolvangar," he saidswinging lightly from branch to branch of the close-clustering pine trees, and it put him uneasily in mind of a monkeyThey traveled for several hours and then stopped to eat. While the men were lighting fires and melting snow for water, with lorek Byrnison watching Lee Scoresby roast seal meat close by, John Faa spoke to Lyra."Lyra, can you see that instrument

Camille Pissarro The Harvest 1882

Camille Pissarro The Harvest 1882Camille Pissarro The garden at Pontoise 1877Camille Pissarro The Chestnut Trees at Osny
the land. All she had to do was run to the cabin and pick up the shopping bag, and she was ready.
The first thing she and Farder Coram did ashore was to visit the house of the witch consul. It didn't take long to find it; the little town was clustered around the harbor, with the oratory and the governor's house the only buildings of into a little parlor and brought Presently the consul himself came in to greet them. He was a fat man with a florid face and a sober black suit, whose name was Martin Lanselius. His dsmon was a little serpent, the same intense and brilliant green as his eyes, which were the only witchlike thing about him, though Lyra was not sure what she had been expecting a witch to look like.
"How can I help you, Farder Coram?" he said.any size. The witch consul lived in a green-painted wooden house within sight of the sea, and when they rang the bell it jangled loudly in the quiet street.A servant showed them

Leroy Neiman Frank at Rao's

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Welcome, Lyra," he said.
Close to, she felt his voice rumbling like the earth itself. She would have been nervous but for Pantalaimon, and the fact that John Faa's stony expression had warmed a little. He was treating her very gently.
"Thank you, place with a big fire, sideboards laden with silver and porcelain, and a heavy table darkly polished by the years, at which twelve chairs were drawn up.
The other men from the platform had gone elsewhere, but the old shaking man was still with them. John Faa helped him to a seat at the table.
"Now, you sit here on my right," John Faa said to Lyra, and took the chair at Lord Faa," she said."Now you come in the parley room and we'll have a talk," said John Faa. "Have they been feeding you proper, the Costas?""Oh, yes. We had eels for supper.""Proper fen eels, I expect."The parley room was a comfortable

Rene Magritte The Voice of the Winds

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They've got this special kind of photogram where you can see Dust, and when you see a man, there's like all light coming to him, and there's none on a child. At least, not so much."
"Did Mrs. Coulter show you a picture like that?"
Lyra hesitated, for this was not lying but something else, and she wasn't practiced at it.
"No," she said after a moment. "I saw that .
"Then Mrs. Coulter must have decided you were ready to help her in that work. Interesting. Have you taken part yet?"
"No," said Lyra. What was he talking about? Pantalaimon was showed it to you?""He wasn't really showing it to me," Lyra admitted. "I was just passing and I saw it. And then my friend Roger was taken by the Oblation Board. But-""Who showed you that picture?""My Uncle Asriel.""When?""When he time.""I see. And what else have you been learning about? Did I hear you mention the Oblation Board?""Yes. But I didn't hear about that from him, I heard it here."Which was exactly true, she thought.He was looking at her narrowly

Berthe Morisot The Harbor at Lorient

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either in Europe or in New France, as a center of experimental theology. Lyra knew that much, at least. She was proud of her college's eminence, and liked to boast of it to the various urchins and ragamuffins she played with by the , really. Probably the stars had daemons just as humans did, and experimental theology involved talking to them. Lyra imagined the Chaplain speaking loftily, listening to the star daemons' remarks, and then nodding judiciously or shaking his head in regret. But what might be passing between them, she couldn't conceive.
Nor was she particularly interested. In many ways Lyra was a barbarian. What she canal or the claybeds; and she regarded visiting Scholars and eminent professors from elsewhere with pitying scorn, because they didn't belong to Jordan and so must know less, poor things, than the humblest of Jordan's under-Scholars.As for what experimental theology was, Lyra had no more idea than the urchins. She had formed the notion that it was concerned with magic, with the movements of the stars and planets, with tiny particles of matter, but that was guesswork

Edgar Degas At the Milliners

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oiled silk or puncturing it to gain a hold.
They avoided the engine, though some were drawn into it and dashed to pieces by the slicing propellers. Most of the birds cruel scarps appeared, shouldering up out of the night and of course quite invisible to the men inside the zeppelin, who were swinging their guns wildly and firing at random.
At the last moment Sayan Kotor screamed, and a thunder of wingbeats drowned even the roar of the engine as every bird took off and flew away. And the men in the cabin had four or five horrified seconds of knowledge before the zeppelin crashed and burst into flames.
Fire, heat, flames… Lee woke up again, his body as hot as if he'd been simply perched on the body of the zeppelin, and those that came next seized on to them, until they covered not only the whole body of the craft (now venting hydrogen through a thousand tiny claw holes) but the windows of the cabin too, and the struts and cables—every square inch of room had a bird, two birds, three or more, clinging to it.The pilot was helpless. Under the weight of the birds the craft began to sink farther and farther down, and then another of those sudden

Alexandre Cabanel The Birth of Venus

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a dozen more Ph.D.s under you. Good idea. You do it, Oliver. You go ahead. But that's it for me. I'm off. It stinks."
"You haven't…"
But her , his eyes hardly visible under the low brim of his cap.
"I'm going to my laboratory. I work here. Who are you?" she said, a little angry, a little frightened.
"Security. Have you got some ID?"
"What security? I left this building at three o'clock this afternoon and expression silenced him. She took off her white coat and hung it on the door, gathered a few papers into a bag, and left without a word. As soon as she'd gone, he took Sir Charles's card and picked up the phone. Several hours later, just before midnight in fact, Dr. Malone parked her car outsideand let herself in at the side entrance. But just as she turned to climb the stairs, a man came out of another corridor, startling her so much she nearly dropped her briefcase. He was wearing a uniform."Where are you going?" he said.He stood in the way, bulky

Vincent van Gogh Starry Night over the Rhone

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Saudi judge recently refused to annul a marriage between an 8-year-old girl and a 47-year-old man -- a union apparently arranged by the girl's father to settle his debts -- a lawyer in the case told CNN.
On Saturday, the judge, Sheikh Habib Abdallah al-Habib, dismissed a petition brought by the girl's mother because , he said.
According to the lawyer, the girl's father arranged the marriage in order to settle his debts with the man, who is "a close friend" of his.
The judge did ask for a pledge from the husband, who was in court, not to consummate the marriage until the girl reaches puberty, according to al-Jutaili
she "is not the legal guardian of the girl," the woman's lawyer Abdullah al-Jutaili said."Therefore, she cannot represent her daughter in these proceedings," al-Jutaili said.Her parents are separated

Juan Gris Violin and Guitar

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said, "If we've got to get the knife from that man, we need to know more about him. He's not going to just give it to us, is he?"
"Certainly not. It's the one thing keeping the Specters away. It's not going to be easy by any means."
"The Specters are afraid of the knife?"
"Very much close to her breast, and he became a black rat, whipping his tail around and around her wrist and glaring at Sir Charles with red eyes.
"You weren't supposed to see him," she said. "He's my daemon. You think you en't got daemons in this world, but you have. Yours'd be a dung beetle."
"If the Pharaohs of Egypt were content to be represented so.""Why do they attack only grownups?""You don't need to know that now. It doesn't matter. Lyra," Sir Charles said, turning to her, "tell me about your remarkable friend."He meant Pantalaimon. And as soon as he said it, Will realized that the snake he'd seen concealed in the man's sleeve was a daemon too, and that Sir Charles must come from Lyra's world. He was asking about Pantalaimon to put them off the track: so he didn't realize that Will had seen his own daemon.Lyra lifted Pantalaimon

Leroy Neiman The Rocket Roger Clemens

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His father was describing exactly what he himself had found under the hornbeam trees. He, too, had found a window—he even used the same word for it! So Will must be on the right track. And this knowledge was what the men had been felt deeply happy that he had something so important to share with his father; that John Parry and his son Will had each, separately, discovered this extraordinary thing. When they met, they could talk about it, and his father would be proud that Will had followed in his footsteps.
The night was quiet and the sea was still. He folded the letters away and fell asleep.searching for… So it was dangerous, too.Will had been just a baby when that letter was written. Seven years after that had come the morning in the supermarket when he realized his mother was in terrible danger, and he had to protect her; and then slowly in the months that followed came his growing realization that the danger was in her mind, and he had to protect her all the more.And then, brutally, the revelation that not all the danger had been in her mind after all. There really was someone after her—after these letters, this information.He had no idea what it meant. But he

Leonardo da Vinci The Virgin and Child With St Anne

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the kitchen table wondering about the best order to look through the downstairs rooms.
As he was finishing his meal, the phone rang.
He sat absolutely still, his heart thumping. He counted: twenty-six rings, and then it stopped. He put his plate in the sink andsecond, he knew that the men were downstairs, opening the kitchen door.
He lifted Moxie out of the way and softly hushed her sleepy protest. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his shoes, straining every nerve to hear the sounds from downstairs. They were very quiet sounds: a chair being lifted and replaced, a short whisper, the creak of a floorboard. started to search again. Four hours later he still hadn't found the green leather case. It was half past one, and he was exhausted. He lay on his bed fully clothed and fell asleep at once, his dreams tense and crowded, his mother's unhappy, frightened face always there just out of reach.And almost at once, it seemed (though he'd been asleep for nearly three hours), he woke up knowing two things simultaneously.First, he knew where the case was. And

Thomas Kinkade Key West

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months after putting up a facebook profile, I’m utterly bored. I’ve said it. I’m sure I’ll be assaulted by the Facebook cultists, but it’s true.
I had failed to check my account until recently when it appeared that several friends had sent me quizzes. I love these friends (, I’d just rather connect (eh-gad!) in person.
I admit, I use Facto plug articles, videos, and other things that I hope my “community” of friends and colleagues will enjoy and pass on to others. In this way it serves a practical purpose. But it says little about me or what I’m truly about, except for where I live, my interests, perhaps what organizations I give to, or my political or religious affiliation (which I don’t even state). I can networkand if you’re reading, please don’t take offense), but I don’t have time for quizzes. I’d rather you quiz me in person so we can have a good laugh together. I’d rather we go see a movie. I’d rather we enjoy each other’s company. Lately

Franz Marc yellow cow

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Mary's mind felt like the moon and the clouds trying to hold back the Dust as she cried out silently: Don't look under the tree, go away from the tree ...
But he moved closer and closer to it, finally stopping outside her own house. She couldn't bear it; she put the spyglass in her pocket and began to run down the slope. She was about to call out, anything, a wild cry, but just in time sheher house. He was going inside it. He vanished from sight, although there was a stir in the Dust he left behind, like smoke when a hand is passed through it. Mary waited for an endless minute, and then he appeared again.
He stood in her doorway, looking around slowly from left to right, and his gaze swept past the tree.
Then he stepped off the threshold and stood still, almost at a loss. Mary was suddenly conscious of how exposed she was on the bare hillside, an easy rifle realized that it might wake Will or Lyra and make them reveal themselves, and she choked it back.Then, because she couldn't bear not knowing what the man was doing, she stopped and fumbled for the spyglass again, and had to stand still while she looked through it.He was opening the door of