when the end comes it will be just another day; another day of drinking room temperature beer; of yelling/laughing/crying at the TV; of corporate interests overtaking human rights; of grey skies and dark clouds floating on the horizon; of wishing you were anywhere else, under some other tsar. corruption doesn't happen overnight: it's built in stages. performative rage is their most devious tool. stoking our base desires, their fires inspire some new homicidal fool. s

Intro - 1. Dsus2/F#, Dm/F, E 2.  Dsus2/F#, F, E Also, remember the pauses; it's not entirely in 12/8. There's a rest beat in the A-section, so it's also in 15/8. D/F# Asus2/G# (15/8) The sands of time E5 F#m/C# Are drifting sky D/F# Asus2/G# Fragments of E5 F#m/C# A life gone by D/F# (12/8) The lands of time E Are drawing near F#m/C# G Hear me Whisper G Amaj7/G# In your ear (C#, F#, G, B) All our struggles D Feel meant t

It's not a perfect lyric in English, so here's a Māori version. Also, remember the pauses; it's not entirely in 12/8. There's a rest beat in the A-section, so it's also in 15/8. Intro - 1. Dsus2/F#, Dm/F, E              2.  Dsus2/F#, F, E ROSE (15/8) D/F# Asus2/G# Te taipū o te wā E5 F#m/C# e rangi D/F# Asus2/G# Tūāporo E5 F#m/C# mauri ai D/F# E (12/8) Te hotahota o te wā F#m/C# G Hine, hine Amaj7/G# Taringa! (C#, F#, G, B) D

Put another way: Billy T is buried on the same mountain as my Dad's ashes. I recall it being very nearby to Henry and Ross's farm. Carmen was from a nearby tribe. Alistair Riddell's a distant relative. Don McGlashan is distantly related via Ruby King.

That's the Irish title. I studied the entire Duolingo module, but that was in 2017-2018. My mother's family comes from Northern Ireland. Mostly Scots-Irish. Not sure if it's that region, but it might be. Either way, in Early Medieval Ireland, these were the hostages and slaves. The O'Neill's were the boorish Australians to the North. Sandwiched between the two O'Neill territories, in fact.

The Blue Continent and the Shores of Tāmaki Before Europeans marked Aotearoa on their charts, the seas between Kāwhia, Tāmaki, and...

When I looked up the Puhihuia song, the sheet music said that Ruby King had been told that story by Chief Tahuri Kaora of Ngāti Hikairo. Dr. Brown sent me an article in reply, stating that the story was usually attributed to Auckland tribes, such as Maungawhau and Awhitu, but that was George Grey's bowdlerised version of the story. This new attribution might be a more authentic telling of the mōteatea. Anyway, that was a pretty clear sign of whakapapa. - My Dad's family

The Māori in European Art: Reclaiming the Iconomy of Sound by Amanda Michelina When Leonard Bell published The Māori in European Art  in 1980, he was documenting more than just a collection of colonial paintings and engravings. He was tracing the European imagination of the Māori  — a field of vision shaped as much by fantasy as by observation. In his introduction, Bell remarks on an engraving from around 1800, and a photograph from around 1900: “The engraver responsible for

Historical Fiction from the Priest-Navigator’s Point of View The Blue Pacific Civilisation Before Cook, before the Union Jack, before missionaries recast Polynesian memory in the language of the Bible, Oceania was already a civilisation in full . It was not an empire, with capitals and armies, but something subtler and more enduring: a Blue Continent , its highways made of ocean swells, its archives stored in chants and constellations. From Hawai‘i in the north to Rapa Nui in

Chords: Dm7, Am7, Abm, G, F#, Bsus4/E Dm7 Am7 They call him Chippy: Abm Gm Reminds me of Mr. Whippy. Dm7...

oh, my darling, there! There they go. Don't you know There's cops in the Beehive? o, my baby, there! There they go. Right beside the...

Answering the wero Of a distant cousin By exhuming their song Channelling a hero into being who had slumbered for far too long ...

The best voices communicate a way of being; a subtle force, echoes of past and present. The last ebbing tones in a DEI suicide note: why...

Is who I am when I'm awake a dream, Or is facing death the real delusion? Some of us scream, While others seek seclusion. A lonely path...

I caught you as you fell into the ocean. Limitless motion From the waves Buffeted our love Above the pit of despair, beyond all worry...

Crying myself to sleep, weeping to console myself beyond the safety of plausible deniability. The charades of youth are gone. The flirty...

Unusual phrases From daily life. Recontextualised by precious punctuation. Gimmicks Like This That Make People Think They're Smart. ...

Waking up each morning, With a fuzzy brain. Feeling the pain of those Quetiapine pills. They help me sleep, But I feel dead inside....

Barabara, an American who Philippa met at the Benvenuto Club, has moved to Rapallo for a couple of months before returning to America...

We've finally managed to feel settled enough to go exploring a bit. Andy had to go to Pisa University to look at an installation of their...