Hi guys! Hannotations of paintings in Hannibal are back! :)
The print hanging in Will’s kitchen depicts various fishing flies - actually it portrays colored and made-into-art drawings which were used in real patents for artificial fishing baits. The patents are:
- Edward L. Cox, artificial bait, patented November 15, 1910
- John P. Fiebig, floating fly or bait, patented January 16, 1917
- O.C. Tuttle, fish bait, patented April 29,1919
Each of these three sections contains the title, figures, invetor’s signature, withness’ signature ands attorneys’ signature.
If we examine for example the first part, we can by searching for this information find the actual patent of Mr. Edward Lafayette Cox, of Alamoso, Colorado. With rich description of actualy baits:
Be it known that I, EDWARD L. Cox, a citizen of the United States, and a resident of Alamosa, in the county of Conejos and State of Colorado, have invented a new and Improved Artificial Bait, of which the following is a full, clear, and exact description.
The invention is an improvement in artificial fish baits, and has in view a bait in the form of a buoyant body which is practically indestructible and has the shining surface of the natural insect or minnow. To this end I cover the body of the bait with a quill and bind the quill about the ends of the body to keep out the water, the body or inner surface of the quill being preferably colored to imitate the insect or other bait which it is supposed to represent.
Reference is to be had to the accompanying drawings forming a part of this specification, in which similar characters of reference indicate corresponding parts in all the views.
Figure 1 is a view of an artificial bait embodying my invention as applied to a hook; Fig. 2 is a central longitudinal section through the same; and Fig. 3 is a view of a modified form of the invention…
And see the original black and white sketches of the baits:
This colored print can be found on allposters or e-bay, however nor one of them holds the name of the person who put these three scetches of patents together and colored them, and if it’s the one in the right bottom corner, it’s not recognizable. I vote that it was Will’s great-grandfather who worked in the patent office :).
Sending love to xshiromorix for identifying the print! :-)
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All descriptions of paintings in Hannibal are here.
INTERVIEWER
Did you know as a child you wanted to be a writer?
MORRISON
No. I wanted to be a reader. I thought everything that needed to be written had already been written or would be. I only wrote the first book because I thought it wasn’t there, and I wanted to read it when I got through.
[ JANICE ] (Supporting) Female, American ages 19-26, Caucasian. Janice is a fashion model who is nearing the end of her career in her young 20’s. She is best friends to Naomi and is educated, worldly and strong. Physically, because she is a NYC fashion model, we are looking for tall, thin and young. They grew up together and share the same lack of accent. Basic northeastern US dialect. Actors who are from other regions, please take note that you would need the ability to sound American. This is not easy so please don’t reply to read if that would be an issue
I knew it. I knew Southerners and Midwesterners and Californians and everyone else weren’t really Americans. I knew it!
turncoat: in defense of andromeda tonks nee black
The day after Andromeda’s world ended, she woke to a house full of life.
She rolled out of bed in soft pajamas, bare feet. One pillow was mussed and crumpled. The other was untouched, plumped just the way Ted liked it. She leaned against the headboard, pale fingers gone paler from squeezing the wood.
Her knees were creaking, her joints aching. She was forty three and she felt like she had at least a century brittling her bones. Morning light, grey and dim, dropped through the crack in the curtains, shattered to the floor. There was a sniffle. There was a crescendo of an infant’s cry. Andromeda wrapped an old blanket around her shoulders and went to her grandson.
If she had picked up the newspaper on her front step (she wouldn’t) she would have seen the garbled headlines first trying to make sense of the smoldering remains of the Battle of Hogwarts. THE END OF OUR TERROR? the Prophet screamed.
When Andromeda went out into the rest of the house with Teddy nestled into her shoulder, she had to step cautiously over sleeping bodies. In one corner, a boy with disheveled hair and crooked glasses was passed out on her living room floor, wrapped around a lithe redhead. Harry had insisted on coming to tell her about Nymphadora and Remus in person. The rest of the snorers on her floor had insisted on coming with him. Andromeda had insisted that if they tried to leave again in that state, exhausted and unfed, they’d end up passed out in a ditch somewhere and not just because she’d send a curse after them.
She didn’t know them yet. She didn’t know Harry would spend hours on all fours when Teddy was learning to crawl, demonstrating proper form, while Ginny laughed and cheered them both on with Lee Jordan-style commentary. She didn’t know Molly Weasley would fold herself bossily, comfortably, into Andromeda’s Saturday afternoons with teacakes and preserves, her mending and her sharpest gossip, kindest words.
Andromeda didn’t know that the bushy haired girl curled up on the couch would teach Teddy to read, buy him Muggle science books and help him make a potato battery for a lightbulb, that the lanky redhead bent like a long-limbed question mark at the foot of the couch would become Andromeda’s newest, brightest chess arch nemesis.
Little Teddy on one shoulder, Andromeda went barefoot into the kitchen to get down her daughter’s favorite mug and fill it full of steaming tea. Andromeda let it overbrew, watching sleeping chests, backs, ribs, stomachs rise and fall, breathe, shake. When she finally rolled the bitter liquid over her tongue, she clung to the mug, didn’t let it break the silence.
Kat informs me that this is more properly titled “an apology to Andromeda Tonks nee Black.”
Can we just have a moment of appreciation for Janeway’s “oh no not time travel” face?
Interestingly enough that’s exactly the expression on her mugshot portrait hanging on the Temporal Affairs Commission’s Most Wanted wall.
Captain Kirk is hanging next to her on that wall
Not gonna lie, there are a few staffers at the T.A.C. that ship them.
bryrosea said:
Okay, so this legit happened at my university - rats eating through cables in the room containing the campus mainframe. It was an epic disaster.
Ha, thanks for the story! This must have been gross and expensive but I kind of love it, it’s such an example of nature inviting technology to fuck off.
"Pass me that box of traps, will you?"
Mac didn’t look up, fussily easing a new set of cables into supposedly rat-proof conduit. "Conscientious objector, here."
Weevil rolled his eyes and popped off the ceiling tile, chucking it a little too closely to where she crouched on the floor. Her answering glare would have been more effective without a wing of cartoon-green hair falling over one eye; as it was, he just grinned down from the ladder. He hadn’t said anything about it- they barely talked about their lives, he wasn’t going to venture into a hairstyle conversation - but the streaks had come back the same week he’d seen a bruised Dick Casablancas gingerly cross the sunbathing lawn without heckling a single girl. His stomach might twist every time he remembered Veronica was gone, but a little vengeance that wouldn’t get him arrested again could still make him smile.
Straightening, he wedged his shoulders into the gap and shone a flashlight on the tiles still in place. Definitely rat shit. He heard the box thump down on the top rung of the ladder, accompanied by a martyred sigh.
"Look," Weevil said, his voice echoing oddly in the gap between floors, "Remember when some asshole made a food waste exhibit in the art building? I had to set these traps there. They die fast, Mac, it’s not some sadistic thing."
"So Hearst doesn’t have the traps that stick their feet to the ground so they can’t move and die of thirst? Slowly? Wondering what’s gone wrong in their little rat lives?"
"No!" He paused, glad that his face was concealed, and admitted, "They used to. After I had to go pick up the first one, I got rid of the whole damn stock, told my supervisor they were expired. The idiot actually bought that, but he wrote me up for not checking with him anyway."
Mac’s voice had a smile in it, now. “Getting soft, Weevil.”
"You’re welcome."
Hey kids wanna watch a super fun movie with themes about abandonment, consumerism, organ harvesting, and the social depreciation of the handicapped, elderly, and terminally ill?
Then do I have a film for you!
Even as a kid this movie made me a little sad and I didn’t get why until I was a lot older.
this movie was stressful as fuck.
DONT WATCH THIS FUCKING MOVIE DONT SHOW IT TO CHILDREN
For some reason, my preschool thought it was a grand idea to stop this movie while the gang was on the way to the incinerator. I’ve never seen the ending.
It is the horror film of my childhood.
This movie did result in the best exchange of my brief babysitting career:
4-year old, in real fear: I don’t wanna [go though the mudroom], the vacuum cleaner will get me!
7-year old, in dead-on impression of her mother: Honey, there’s no such thing as a vacuum cleaner.
Author Zilpha Keatley Snyder, who received three Newbery Honors for her middle-grade novels, including ‘The Egypt Game,’ has died. She was 87.She wrote one of my favorite books in the world, BLACK AND BLUE MAGIC. I have a bad case of the sads.
Be free and happy in the Summerlands, Lady.