Discussion in 'Streetwear and Denim' started by sipang, Dec 8, 2011.
This is an historical rally going through Morocco that has taken place each year since 1993. The layout is wonderful and different every year, a bit like the Tour Auto. The cars go from Rabat to Marrakech, passing through beautiful cities like Erfoud, Tangier, and Ouarzazate. The 2011 route traveled 2,147 km through the High Atlas and along the Strait of Gibraltar, with 70 cars participating in the rally.
Morocco is “the country of paradoxes,” in that in a very short period of time, the weather can completely change. The cars drove through a snowstorm in very cold winds followed by a sunny road in the middle of a dry and warm desert just minutes later. These old cars need to run strong! But that’s also one of the great charms of the country, as you can swim in the sea and then go on the Oukaïmeden Ski Resort in the same day without having to travel very far.
yeah but check the details on the cap in 2nd pic, enlarged. manual focus winnar !
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A Post Card for Pick
Indeed. This reminds I have something related to DD and art to post in here.
These photos are fucking awesome. Thanks for posting.
Lots more to swoon over from Morocco, and plenty of other events as well too. I like people that drive their cool cars, and I'm partial to things pre-1990 or so and European The nice photography doesn't hurt either. Be sure to check out the "weekends" section as well, I find that part to be a lot more interesting typically, but the Morocco set was too good to pass up, and I thought had a lot of appeal beyond just the cars.
Old cars are the best.
I am probably selling my Fiat
but it would be going back to its former owner (grandson of original owners)
Jenny Holzer as well
An introduction to V.S. Ramachandran
(won't embed for some reason so here's the link)
this was also very applicable to the runway threak, various pieces put together a unified presentation from the designer -- and that's why some collections come under so much criticism because there is lack of unity.
Get up and come here
for the sake of my heart,
and lend your beauty
to solving my problem.
Bring an earthenware cup
full of wine
for us to drink,
–quick before we’re clay
in the ground
that they quarry
to make cups.
Four new species of tiny chameleons discovered on Madagascar. The smallest fits on a match head.
I am not at all a fan of neuro stuff but this is pretty clever.
Shatranj ke Khilari (1977)
Film: Ray Satirizes Indian Nobility:Civilized Impotency
IT IS 1856 in the beautiful city of Lucknow, the capital of Oudh, one of the last independent states in the north of India. "The King," the narrator tells us, "didn't much like to rule but he was proud of his crown," an elaborate, jewel-encrusted headdress that had been publicly exhibited in London. Instead of ruling, the King prefers to compose poems and songs and to while away his time with his wives.
The British East India Company is preparing to gobble up Oudh, but to do this legally, it must persuade the King to sign a new treaty of what's euphe-mistically called friendship.
While all this is going on, two friends, wealthy Lucknow noblemen named Mirza and Mir, carry on a non-stop chess tournament. There are no stakes other than their egos. The two men are obsessed with the game to such an extent that one of them has no time for his lovely young wife (Shabana Azmi), while the other is the last person in Lucknow to know that his wife has made him a cuckold.
"The Chess Players," Satyajt Ray's new film that opens today at the Little Carnegie, is social satire of a sort that is so graceful, so polite, so balanced and in such good taste, that it virtually amounts to a shrug: This is the way it was, Mr. Ray seems to be saying. So be it.
Though it is often witty, "The Chess Players" lacks the passion that guides the intelligence and can make urgent the most remote of problems. More than anything else, I suppose, it is stately. Watching it is like being witness to a formal ceremony. One admires the costumes, the perfectly picked-up cues, the elegance of the principals, the complicated footwork, the manner in which an entire civilization has been encapsulated in a few particular gestures. Yet one is always a little ahead of the film. It's unable to surprise us.
Some of this must be the intention of Mr. Ray. He's not trying to keep us on the edge of our seats but to make us contemplate a bit of history, not because of any special parallels to our own times but because it has to do with the birth-life-death rhythm of all civilizations. He's not outraged. Sometimes he's amused; most often he's meditative, and unless you respond to this mood, the movie is so overly polite you may want to shout a rude word.
"The Chess Players" becomes epigrammatic in form as it cuts among its three arenas of action, which are the equivalent to plot lines. There is the nonstop chess game and the minor irritations that must be faced by the two friends played by Sanjeev Kumar and Saeed Jaffrey—who was so good as the sly Indian guide in "The Man Who Would Be King."
Then there are the scenes in the British resident's office in which Richard Attenborough, as the resident, talks, very intelligently, about British policy in India, and the scenes in the palace where we watch the King at play and, finally, as he comes to the realization that he's been checkmated and that the best he can do is to retire with honor.
The film is not without feelings, but they are muted, reined-in. There's resignation everywhere, even in the line, "The Indians invented the game but the British changed the rules," and especially at the end when the two chess players, having escaped from Lucknow for a day of uninterrupted chess-playing in the country, wonder whether they should return to the city, now occupied by British troops, "If we can't cope with our wives," one of the chess players says to the other, "how can we cope with the British Army?"
Actually it's a funny line, and it's meant to be, but it also reflects the civilian impotency that is the film's subtext.
THE CHESS PLAYERS, directed by Satyajit Ray; screenplay (in English and Hindi with English subtitles by Mr. Ray; produced by Siresh Jindal; director of photography, Soumendu Roy; music, Mr. Ray; editor, Dulal Dutta; a Devki Chitra production, distributed by Creative Films International. Running time: 135 minutes. At the Little Carnegie, 57th Street, east of 7th Avenue. This film was not been rates.
General Outram . . . . . Richard Attenborough
Mirza Sailad Ali . . . . . Sanjeev Kumar
Mir Roshan Ali . . . . . Saeed Jaffrey
Mirza's Wife . . . . . Shabana Azmi
Mawah Wajid Ali Shah . . . . . Amzad Khan
Adviser . . . . . Tom Alter
for roi du jour pickpackpockpuck
Separate names with a comma.