Posted on February 23, by Scott Alexander [Content warning:
The room glittered with crystal and silver, pineapples, lobsters and champagne. And the smart talk - what a row!
One side of the room was a semi-circle of colonnaded windows through which jewelled figures slid out to the candlelit terrace and the beating of a band.
I gave up toying with my truffles and let my gaze move across the breathless midnight Mediterranean lit up with yachts and beyond, way beyond, to the lights of Africa.
Max was leaning over me and looking downwards. Click-swoosh, click-swoosh, on her way to the lavatory. He managed to stand, sway, and bow. And quite wrong about my origins.
Don Pedro tapped me on the shoulder from behind. Don Pedro squeaked at the waist when he danced. But such a noble head. And we went off to Watutsi on the terrace. I gripped the table to steady myself and broke out in goose-pimples. At home Mother was holding a brown-paper parcel. I took it breathing heavily.
Out rolled a pair of grey socks. Next, Mother brought me home to a black dockland slum called Pitt Street and christened me George. Even in those days the police patrolled it in pairs. If you moved at all it could only be up. And we did, very slightly. When I was a couple of years old the family was rehoused on a new council estate in Norris Green on the edge of town.
Since the rest of Pitt Street moved with us, along with the equally notorious Scotland Road, the atmosphere continued to be full of fists.
Families like ours stored coal in the bath to stop it being stolen. But we had the luxury of three bedrooms. The smallest was reserved for me alone because for the first fourteen years of my life I nervously wet the bed. As a punishment I would be locked in there without heat or light and told there were ghosts.
[Content warning: Discussion of social justice, discussion of violence, spoilers for Jacqueline Carey books.] [Edit 10/ This post was inspired by a debate with a friend of a friend on Facebook who has since become somewhat famous.
The Free Congress Commentary By William S. Lind. On War # November 26, In the Fox’s Lair. William S. Lind. One reason parts of Iraq have quieted down, at least for a while, has received widespread attention: the Sunni split from al-Qaeda.
‘We strongly believe that in today’s world there remains a vital role for such a space, where girls can be themselves during a formative time in their lives without the pressures of having boys around.’. Nothing seems to generate greater anger in new Return of Kings readers than the following statement on the about page.
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