Sprout
As I looked at the corner of our yard, I visited the distant paths of my memory.
When I was still in middle school, my grandfather brought me a bunch of sprouts and books. He looked at me while he was planting the seedlings and handed me the books he brought and said:
- I’ll play with you. Surprised, I said:
-I don’t know how to plant seedlings, of course you will win. My grandfather laughed and said:
- I will plant the sapling, and you will read these books. If you finish reading the books before this sapling grows and blooms, you will win me.
- Who needs this game? I don’t read books. I ride Salih’s bike.
- Don’t ride your neighbor’s bike. If you beat me in the game, I will give you a new bike. I was so happy that I didn’t even know that I agreed to the game. My grandfather, who had not come from the yard, tended to the seedlings in the morning and in the evening, and watered them lovingly. I read a book without looking up. Months passed, months gave way to years. Today, while proudly holding my bachelor’s degree, I looked at the fragrant roses in the corner of the yard and the dusty bicycle that had not been ridden. If I count, it has been seven years since my grandfather left us…
Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntos por las letras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korabl znaniy» and «Talenty Rossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «Kayva Kishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina's «Multi Art-6», Kenya’s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
The son of Mulikboyev O’tkir Kochkor was born on August 11, 1990.
Currently, he is a student of the “Primary Education” department of Tashkent ISFT Institute Teacher of “Primary Education” at School 75, Koshrabot District, Samarkand Region.
His creative works are “Bakht khunirogi” Tashkent, “Buta 5” Azerbaijan, “Turan writers” Turkey, “Anthology of Kazakh and Uzbek artists” Uzbekistan, “Uzbek writers anthology” Canada, “Young Pencilers 2″ ” Published in Moldovan, republican and international collections.
His poems were translated into Turkish, Azerbaijani, English, Russian and published in more than ten countries. Hundreds of poems have appeared in the press. Awarded with the “Initiative Reformer” badge of the international level.
My teacher was the best teacher. Everyone’s favorite teacher will be a teacher. He will learn many things from the teacher and remember this in the future. Do you know? To make your dreams come true, you need to respect your teacher! Teachers are our pride! They are the best people in the world! Because of them, we will be known to the world, we will be well-known people!
The Painter
The compact red book I ran around with:
Crowley’s Book of the Law. I was goaded
into knowledge that a reckoning was at hand.
An archetypal Goddess had manifested as
a tactile reality in my life. An image had been
seared into my mind; a painting called The Vessel;
it was hers, & yet I was a married man. The only
path forward that tempestuous autumn of ‘01 was to
cheat. The book laid down a gauntlet of what
it meant to act in the world with a genuine sense
of destiny; to be a man who had the mettle to be
a real force of nature. She knew, my wife, that I
had been possessed, & that winds were blowing
me in a new direction, towards the forbidden.
I had, it seemed to me, no choice. The night I
spent with the painter, in a studio in PAFA, I
discovered what it meant to have a hinge to
true will about matters of the heart. She kept
paintings there, of Dionysus & Apollo, & she
would make me a myth, too. We shared red
wine that had the effect of being blood between
us; our chalice was the air, the sound of water
pipes late at night in an old building, darkened
corridors meant to hold only us, bathrooms
which could be used as portal-ways into starry
worlds. As I gathered steam, I felt the book
hover in the air as well, a piece of text writ in
boiling blood, pummeling towards spring.
Adam Fieled is a writer based in Philadelphia. His books include Equations, Cheltenham, Apparition Poems, Beams, and Opera Bufa. A magna cum laude graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, he edits the journal PFS Post.
the little ants marching
we are the losers
the glue of society
the little ants
marching for
hope
even though destiny
has other things in
mind
the lost souls
holding on for
something that
resembles a life
we dreamed about
as children
sometimes the sun
doesn't even bother
to shine
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
some people are
i once thought i
was in love with
this beautiful older
woman right up
until she got me
fired from my job
and it's not that
i'm unwilling to
accept that some
people are just
fucking evil
i only wonder
why the fuck
am i the one
that has to
experience
all of them
the witches
have won
again i
suppose
-------------------------------------------------------
just as damaged
all the beautiful faces
on those magazines
i convince myself
they are just as
damaged as i am
any chance meeting
and the life long
quest for the right
one will be resolved
and yes, i'm aware
these delusions aren't
healthy and are only
going to lead to
trouble
boredom doesn't
exactly keep the
juices flowing
these days
-------------------------------------------------------------
does the madness ever end
another day spent breathing
another day watching this
crazy fucking mess just burn
do i break out the violin
or join a protest and throw
a rock
does the madness ever end
where is the laughter
a joyous hug
instead, everyone is buried
in their phones plotting or
masturbating out of hate
i tell all the ones i love
that i do love them
every day i can
mostly because it is a very
simple act that can bring
someone a moment of joy
a smile
a flutter of emotion
something better than all
the shit we wade through
just to make it to a bed
the ground
or the concrete of a cell
i can't imagine anyone
calling this living
-----------------------------------------------------------------
an interesting test of pain
a ghost from
my past has
noticed i'm
mentioning
sex more in
the poems
any time that
ghost wants
to take the
hint and
pounce
she is more
than welcome
lord knows
two arthritic
wrists make
for an interesting
test of pain as
one is trying to
climax before
attempting to
get some sleep
each and every
night
glutton for
punishment
as always
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Black Coffee Review and The Asylum Floor. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Critically examine Frank Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns as a graphic narrative.
The monstrous Penguin-like infant’s accession to the hospital maternity nursery and the emblematic destruction of the feline foreshadows the gothic macabre infested upon Gotham
locale in the midst of holiday seasons. “There is a sense of decay everywhere [...] darkness, danger, toxicity and tragedy.” Like the prejudicial denizens of Gotham, these parents exonerate
their plight by forsaking their bestial offspring in the dump of the disposables to be awashed by the frozen icy stream.
Penguin’s messianic and visionary apparition thirty three years later
uplifts humanity of that society that erstwhile alienated the castaway Moses. Then Penguin’s politicization in the grotesquery of Madonna and child when he soars on the hydraulic platform of the sewer saving and rescuing Richard Doyle’s/Mayor’s offspring. Dickensian scene re-enactment and re[visioning] in Penguin as the fur collared and a beatific expression while holding the Christmas gift of the baby who is dressed in red and white mini Santa suit.
Penguin despises the fathers of Gotham, especially Max Shreck for unfolding inhumanity through the unwitting catalyst of the destruction and dooming disposable dumpsters. Saviours in temporality spatially transpose the politicization acts as indictment of the commercialization of religiosity as well as of the sheep-like mentality of the populace.
Corris writes of the evil clothed in colour and light persuasive of genteelness of the spirit: “Black is good—-Batman, of course—---red or bright is bad[...]The Penguin’s sever level lair; Arctic world is garishly a colourful place; charterhouse toxic bile and a giant yellow ducky serving as Penguin’s Stygian barge.”
“How can you be so mean to someone so meaningless?” remonstrates the house broken and unruly pet symbolized by the dramatis personae of Selina with epitaphic and metonymical
associations to convenience, coffee pourer, and a drudge”[...] “Life’s a bitch, now so am I” self effacing transformation of the feline herdess responds after being lambasted and chastised by
her employer and boss Max Shreck.
Catwoman Selina correspondingly declaims “Hello there!”
as inverted version “Hell here!” while defying wasters, poisoners and recyclers and abdicates two letters from the neon sign of the billboard of the apartment. Selina’s slickers attires herself as Catwoman to empower the secretariat drudgeries and Shreck’s havoc; nonetheless while doing so, Selina is trapped within her victimization. Selina finds her nails in the sewing basket
after dismantlement of the phone and answering machine and she cuts the rain slicker to stitch with her Catwoman attire.
Selina is a victim of herself in a state of commodification destined to
be recycled nine times somewhat mystical but not immortal. Max Shreck is a twisted and inverted and maladjusted Scrooge, as Selina maligns “Anti-Claus” through annihilating former using electrically shock device that she had gotten from the members of the Red Triangle Gang.
This behaviour is counterfoiling as self-reflexive and self-effacing with personal imperative. The later also relinquishes her eighth life, as she kills her former boss with an electrically charged kiss. Scriptwriter Water states, “Selina isn’t a villain and she isn’t Wonder Woman for the greater good of society”; she will not gather up that by which she is not valued by bearing her lives.
Penguin possesses animal or freakish monstrosity and wretchedness as well as anthropogenic traits as dualistic dichotomized identities like Selina Penguin waves shredded pieces of incriminate documents in Shreck’s face to blackmail Max Shreck into making him well respected monster. Oswald Cobblepot deconstructs the abandoned child of the overwhelming parents. Batman empowers surplus names in the same sense by which Max Shreck manipulates energy
surplus to sustain a futuristic existence. Both of these decadent cynical personalities whose recycled public selves become dangerous constructs that succeeded in impressing the
gothamites they address. “I’ll take care of the squealing, wretched, pinhead puppets from Gotham [...] You gotta admit, I’ll play this stinking city like a harp from hell.”
Batman takes up the mode of reusing that which was cast off without a thought—----here language to bring down Penguin’s plot to lead the city. The dichotomized hero’s methods become the same one the
villain adopts for they are both ⁴sick. Catwoman’s shopping expedition at Shreck's gives the viewer her face behind the large happy cat that is at the store’s logo. This new version of
shopping becomes both playful and destructive as she whips the head off the mannequins, threatens the security guards by pointing out that they confuse their pistols with their privates and rigs a microwave oven and gasoline to demolish the place.
In a sense, adopting comics characters to the screen does the same thing as the childrens’ comics become the adult film nightmare of a society controlled by the twisted products of neglect and abuse. Penguin goes much further than Catwoman, for he claims for himself the place of God, the avenger, the herod, the transgressor when plots to kill all of Gotham City’s first-born sons. The police chase Penguin over the same terrain his parents covered him the
night they disposed of him. Penguin even knocks over a couple who could have been stand-ins for his parents as he heads for the bridge and the icy water.
In his own way, Penguin is a tragic figure, caused by his past doomed to repeat and recycle it. “My name is not Oswald, its
Penguin. I am not a human being. I am an animal. Crank the the-ac! Bring me my lists!” The battles in Batman Returns aren’t between the forces of light and dark so much as between competing neuroses.
We should not assess this graphic novel as disparaging through its legality, nor should we glamorize it by deference to its perpetrators. Frank Miller’s Bruce Wayne and Carrie Kelley embody Fixer and Burglar as “the self-made American ascendant, free, accountable to no authority—-yet haunted by guilt [...] a ruthless, monstrous vigilante breaking the foundations of our democracy [...] a symbolic resurgence of the common man’s will to resist [...] a rebirth of the
American fighting spirit.”
Hyperreal fantasy of the demonical villains Joker/Michel Emerson, the Mutant Leader/ Gary Anthony Williams, and the Two Face demonstrate the biochemical warfare exposition through televised mediatising of the broadcasters obfuscating real life antecedents: “I
am atop Gotham twin towers with two bombs capable of making them rubble. You have twenty minutes to save them. The price is five million dollars. I would have made half, but I have bills to
pay.”
Batman has been habitually adapted to salvage the rescue operations associated with laughing gases, fear dust, mind control lipsticks, artificial phobia pills and toxic aerosols to a considerable extent. Postmodernism blends the reality of the fictitious world into the reality of the real world [...] often suggests that the two are inextricable, that the boundaries are indecipherability muddy and
impossibly evasive.
Miller’s Batman transmutates from the stereotypical old school hero to nihilistic anarchistic vigilante, duality of the characteristic traits of the goodness and evilry, blackness and whiteness. The Rise of the Postmodern Graphic Novel [...] the Golden era of stereotypes and symbolic personifications [...] There was no place for ambiguity. Nuclear fallout of the US Corto Maltese by Russian invasion causes the cowardly traitor superman [...] blotting out the source of all my powers [...] the hope for screaming millions. God-like steel ness
superheroism of superman is eradicated by the hubristic flesh and blood of the cold war contrasting revenge driven psychopath and ardent pursuer of divine justice.
Julia Kristeva’s formation of subjectivity through blending of linguistics and psychoanalysis contextualizes Lacanian readings as a splitting subject that is in conflict who risks being shattered and is on the brink of heterogeneous contradiction. Batman’s disfiguration and maligned image throughout the signification process obdurates the vigilante saviour with the blame of alleged murdering of Joker “The Joker’s body found mutilated and burned [...] murder is added to the charges of the Batman [...] Batman’s breaking and entering, assault and battery, creating a public menace” furthermore creates a polarized dichotomy between the semiotic and symbolic.
Language will speak the unspeakable as the consciousness will reveal through unravelling of itself. “[...]the spectacular career of Batman comes to a tragic conclusion [...] as the crime fighter suffered a heart attack while battling the government troops [...] his body has been identified as a fifty-five year old billionaire Bruce Wayne [...] and his death has proven as mysterious as his life.”
Further Reading and Works ConsultedSusan M. Bernardo’s [ Wagner College Staten Island NY] Recycling Victims and Villains in “Batman Returns”, Literature/ Film Quarterly, Vol. 22, No. 1, pp: 16-20, Salisbury University
Politics and Society “Should we celebrate or lament the pop culture endurance of Batman, a violent vigilante?
The Return of the Vigilante: An Essay on the Possibility of Political Judgement, Bradon Little John Daniel Croci’s Holy Terror, Batman!
Frank Miller’s Dark Knight and the Superhero as Hardboiled
Terrorist Jan Axelsson’s New Times, New Heroes, Ambiguity, Sociopolitical Issues and Post-Modernism
in Frank miller’s Graphic Novel The Batman Returns
Ruzbeh Babaee’s [Porto University] Heroic Subjectivity in Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns, Research Gate.
Uzbekistan is one of the oldest countries in world history and a country rich in many historical places and historical events. Uzbekistan consists of 12 regions and one autonomous republic and is currently one of the developing countries in every field. Now I want to tell about the most ancient and well-known places in Uzbekistan.
My hometown is Surkhandarya region where is located in southern part of the country. According to some facts, my hometown has a long-life history which is located next to Amudarya and is the southernmost part of our country. Our nation is strong, brave and courageous, and also still the same. Even there are many stories and fairy tales about it. For example, there are our historical heroes Barchinoy and Alpomish, these people are symbols of bravery, loyalty and love. In addition, there are many historical places in my motherland, for example, 2000-year-old buildings and their remains are still available.
The most important thing to say about our people is that they are very hardworking, open-minded, kind and simple-minded people compared to other regions of Uzbekistan. Our family consist of eight people, they are my grandparents, parents, three sisters and me. Elders in our country are wise, knowledgeable and experienced people. That is why, youngsters always respect and help them also ask some some advice for difficulties in their life. Every Muslim people in the world are aware of religious people in Central Asia, one of the most person Al-Hakim at-Termiziy lived in our country and his tomb is located in my hometown.
When it comes to my education. I am a third course student in higher education where located in Samarkand. I think more people around the world know about this city, because here is most famous, historical and touristic location. Thousands of tourists visit this city in a year from verity parts of the world. Especially, Samarkand is well-known for its historical places, mosques, and madrasahs such as Registon Square, Bibikhonim mosque, Guri Amir, Shkokhi Zinda and so on. Like all of this places are related to Middle Ages when Amir Temur and his generations lived. By the way, this city is a country where was the capital of Amir Temur’s country.
If I tell about higher education our country that it consists of four year for bachelor degree but for Master’s degree students study for two year. I study at Samarkand state institute of foreign languages, the faculty of English philology and translation studies. In the future I will be teacher and translator, because my major is to be translator or interpreter but my dad really wants me to be a teacher in higher education. So that I will be both of them. In our institute there are more international teachers who are from USA, UK, Japan, Korea, Chine Turkey and so on. Therefore, our local teachers also have the same knowledge and practice. For example, all of teacher in our institute teach students with efficient methods and through modern high- digital technologies.
Different holidays, competitions, conferences, camps and other meetings are held every month. After graduating this institute I am going to study for Master’s degree abroad may be in the USA, UK or Turkey. I want to tell you about my parents, they are very kind, sincere, open-hearted, easy-going and my closest people in my life. I thank them for all the love they have shown and the opportunities they have created. In our country, it is very important to respect and honor parents. Because they grow you up by giving their everything.
My dad and mum are the best people in the world. I clearly remember, I was in the 6th grade at secondary school, my father had to come from abroad, and I asked them to bring me a computer. I didn’t believe that he would bring it, but unexpectedly he gave me a new laptop of the latest model. I was very happy at that time. Because I was the only student in the class who had a personal computer. Also, they always emphasize that we should study and be good professionals. My sisters and I are always trying to make my parents’ dreams come true. I am very proud to be a child of such parents.
