seen from Puerto Rico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Finland
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Israel
seen from Thailand
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from China
seen from Taiwan
HE SHOWED UP TOO LATE.
“我现在才出现,才是那块”
he only appeared now…
and somehow everything changed.
some scenes feel quiet…
but you can already tell the damage is done.
🎬 Pursuit of Jade 👥 Fan Changyu & Xie Zheng 🎭 Tian Xiwei, Zhang Linghe
too late?
Pursuit of Jade edit 🤍
Watch more edits here 🤍
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@frame_the_feels_yt
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@framethefeels
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
HE WAS TOO JEALOUS.
“我自会找喜欢跟他说清楚的”
he said he would explain it himself.
but the way he said it made the whole scene feel more possessive than calm.
🎬 Pursuit of Jade 👥 Fan Changyu & Xie Zheng 🎭 Tian Xiwei, Zhang Linghe
jealous… or possessive?
Pursuit of Jade edit 🤍
Watch more edits here 🤍
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@frame_the_feels_yt
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@framethefeels
SHE BLAMED HIM.
“我去上战场,那还不是因为你骗我”
i went to the battlefield…
because you lied to me.
that line did not sound dramatic.
it sounded like she had been holding it in for too long.
🎬 Pursuit of Jade 👥 Fan Changyu & Xie Zheng 🎭 Tian Xiwei, Zhang Linghe
red flag… or betrayal?
Pursuit of Jade edit 🤍
Watch more edits here 🤍
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@frame_the_feels_yt
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@framethefeels
The Civil War’s Final Remnant
By Rob Huckins
Dwight Yoakam was a few songs into his set at the Indian Ranch Campground in Webster, MA on a brisk Sunday afternoon in late June when it happened. A Confederate flag, held up in full view by a guy making a pass in front of the audience in a brief moment of exhuberance, maybe to get some affirmation after a week which saw the political right take a few significant kicks to the collective groin. Obamacare survived (again). Same sex marriage held up in all fifty states. And across key locations in the South, the first steps toward the death knell of one of its most treasured symbols were taken, softly, quietly, with trepidation until more assertive moves happened withing what seemed like hours. South Carolina and Alabama were first to remove the Stars and Bars from their capitol buildings. More followed as social media became awash with posts and tweets of rainbow flags, Obamacare memes, the unintentional hilarity of Justic Scalia and the debate over just what constitutes hertiage in the United States. The guy with the flag paraded by, briskly, playfully even, in front of Yoakam and his band as they ended a hillbilly stomper of a number, and was greeted intially by a sprinkling of oddly halfhearted claps before being showered with a sharp wave of loud boos that felt longer than the few seconds it lasted. The flag was quickly retracted and the man disappeared into the crowd while Yoakam–who clearly had to have detected the ruckus in the small venue–ramped up the music again. To be clear, this intense reaction happened in western Massachusetts, not Alabama or South Carolina. To suggest this represented some sort of national mood shift in the view of the Confederate flag would be an overstatement. It might have been just New England pride, like booing someone wearing a Yankees hat. But it still felt different, in a way which hinted that something had changed, even if it was for a few moments in a rural, more traditional part of a relatively blue state, at a country music event with plenty of cowboy boots, hats, American flags and Harley Davidson shirts galore. There were a couple of t-shirts with facsimiles of Confederate flags and related montages spotted in the audience, but nothing came of those. The flag was another, more pointed, matter. As American flags hung off of campers, appeared on clothing, were hoisted up in back of the band and in other places across the grounds, it was hard to miss the wordless message: this is our flag, take that other one back where you came from.
The Confederate flag, of course, is held up as a symbol of heritage for many, particularly (but not exclusively) in the South, where reminders of the Civil War litter the landscape in the form of statues, battlefield markers, reinactments and museums. One can travel throughout the Northeast and scarcely be reminded such a war ever took place. One can easily imagine a foreign traveler never even learning about the war if he or she avoided the South altogether. Even in Florida (a geographically, but not culturally for the most part, southern destination), the war barely gets any attention over amusement parks, new housing and an ever expanding population of people who are not even from the state to begin with (akin to the saying “most everyone in Florida isn’t even from Florida”). But the flag endures. From country rock bands to white supremacist groups, the bizarre range of people who hold the flag dear is staggering, to the point where it would be shortsighted to paint all these enclaves of the stars and bars with the same brush. But the flag represents a lot of things to a lot of people. State sovereignty. Southern heritage. Independence. Soldiers’ sacrifice. Nobility. It also represents far more sinister and ugly elements from our past, too. Slavery. Racial discrimination. White supremacy. Opposition of civil rights. Treason. The latter group is virtually impossible to realistically support no matter where one falls on the political spectrum these days. It’s also hard to ignore just how deep this flag instills unease and resentment in so many Americans across a wide swath of the population.
To be fair, the South has no patent on racism, latent or otherwise, and plenty of cities (Boston, Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington D.C., Baltimore and Philadelphia to name a few) have their own ugly pasts when it comes to race relations and tolerance of cultural diversity. There is no questioning this fact and to argue otherwise risks exposing oneself as ignorant of American history and all its complexity. But the South lost the Civil War and in many ways, has never collectively gotten over it. The heritage of the war and its deep meaning and symbolism to the more traditional parts of the region is unmistakeable; highways, schools, colleges, universities, museums and other public venues are adorned with names and tributes to those men who fought for Southern independence. It’s true most Southerners never owned slaves and those who fought for the Confederacy were just as brave and sacrificed as much (maybe more since it was fought on mostly Southern soil) as their Northern enemies, there is no mistaking the root cause for Southern resistance was the preservation of a society squarely entrenched in slavery. Many will quibble and parse words in debating this but no matter what “cause” one brings up for discussion, the road eventually takes the argument back to slavery. To ignore this is to either prove one’s ignorance or a foolish commitment to an outdated “Gone With The Wind” style of revisionist history. When viewed in this light, it is hard to see how the Confederate flag can be viewed as anything but representative of all the ugly things its detractors accuse it of representing. In many ways, the adherence to the flag is more than shortsighted; it is sad and somewhat pathetic. In no other country has the losing side of a horribly costly and deadly insurrection, one bent on preserving a state based upon racial slavery, been allowed to fly its flag after said rebellion was finished, much less revel in it. The South has gotten a free pass on waving a treasonous flag for the last 150 years, an entitlement stretching far beyond any act of free speech, an act steeped in arrogance, a hubris preserved only in a nation which protects the right for such expressions. While many decry the removal of the Confederate flag at various public venues and buildings as a breakdown of these free speech rights, it is important to remember this: nobody’s taking away anyone’s free speech. There is no law against Confederate flags. In fact, the flag should be prominently displayed–in a museum. As we move further into the 21st century and an increasingly blended culture and interconnected populace, it just seems time to move on, from the Civil War, from slavery, from all the supposed reasons why the flag is deemed “OK” by its supporters, all of it. As with any free speech, just because one can doesn’t mean one should. Keep your Confederate flag. Wave it proudly. It’s your right. Put it on your hat. Wear it on your shirt. Put it up on your property. Keep it aloft over your state’s most important buildings if you want. But just know you are increasingly on the wrong side of history. American history, not that of the failed Confederacy. And it’s a history that should unify us all with its complexity, ugliness and beauty, a narrative of intermitten failure and success, of going for big things at the most inconvenient of times, of being the most unique and influential nation in modern world history. That should be enough for all of us, just as one flag should be enough.
Short Short Fiction (One Take Series #2)
By Rob Huckins
He was continually overwhelmed by how uncaring the cycle of life was, how seemingly aloof it was to the whole thing, the death and dying and babies being born and all that. Life didn’t care what anyone did. It was moving on whether we liked it or not. He took a long inhale on his cigarette and exhaled into the dusk air, its chill just making inroads into the evening. He never smoked before now. Couldn’t imagine it, really, back when he thought life paid attention to what it did. Preserving his lungs didn’t seem so important now, not with so much uncertainty ahead of him. So much unknown. That was it. The unknown. He had a past. Everyone did. But he faced a blank future. Maybe the others were lucky. He hadn’t moved all that much in the last year, maybe a state or two south when the weather looked more forgiving. Possessions were now almost completely utilitarian, useful in their totality. Or they were left behind. There was no other way. He once tried to keep a soccer ball with him. He even drew a face on it with a pencil he kept with him. A poor man’s Wilson. Tom Hanks would not be impressed. Neither would Jenna. He could at least smile at the image of trying to keep the face up each couple of days after the weather washed it away or smudged it out of existence. Futile. So he just left it back in Virginia. With everything else life wouldn’t let him have anymore. He saw fewer people each week, each month. He used to take stock in this in some perverse way, like some dark but necessary Darwinian fantasy that would propel him to survive long enough to start over somewhere else. He now wondered where that was. And if he would even care by the time he made it there. Florida, he heard. That was where he could go and start over. Funny how things hadn’t really changed that much after all.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Star Wars and The Evolution of the Movie Trailer
By Rob Huckins
April 18, 2015
In case you missed it, the new movie trailer for the latest installation in the Star Wars franchise (“The Force Awakens”) was unveiled late this week amid loud cheers and enthusiastic applause to an eager audience at the annual Star Wars Celebration convention. The trailer is outstanding, elevating an already iconic film franchise to even higher ground, generating buzz for a film that doesn’t really need any. New franchise czar J.J. Abrams could have simply tweeted “A new Star Wars movie. Christmas 2015. Be there.” and called it a wrap. But he did fans right with a spectacularly smart and equally alluring trailer, expertly cramming ample totems of the Star Wars canon alongside a wide range of new sights and faces in two minutes of cinematic bliss. We hear the classic strains of John Williams’s legendary score as the hulking ghostly wreckage of a Star Destroyer comes into view in the background of a vast desert landscape. We hear Luke Skywalker’s familiar voiceover while Darth Vader’s mangled helmet and mask slowly comes into view. We see R2-D2 being caressed by a mechanical hand (Luke perhaps?). A lightsaber being handed off by one woman (Leia?) to another younger female character. There is a villain wielding a red lightsaber. There are stormtroopers. TIE fighters and X-Wings are seen zipping around in every direction like angry bees. We see the Millennium Falcon in majestic flight. And of course, there is the mother of all closers, an older and more grizzled Han Solo muttering “Chewie, we’re home” to his longtime Wookie BFF. It was everything any fan could have wanted in a trailer showcasing a highly anticipated film still months away. And most everyone who saw it viewed it online. Repeatedly.
First, some background for those born near or after the dawn of the 21st century. Movies used to be seen exclusively in theaters, eventually paving the way for multiplexes where multitudes of films could be shown all at the same time, for weeks on end. There were never commercials. There was no music to occupy our senses. You sat and ate your snacks. And talked. Or just waited. It was actually so much better than it is now in this single respect. These days theaters seem determined to invade and occupy your senses the moment you enter the theater, with commercials, trivia contests, music and more commercials. But back then, people warmed up with the movie previews. They didn’t call them “trailers” back then. The film industry jargon for previews hadn’t gone mainstream yet. So people watched previews of coming attractions. Sometimes lots of them. They were pretty standard, sometimes just a series of photograph stills and music with the names of the stars over them. Later, in the 1980s and 1990s, previews got better and more interesting but eventually became predictable. Each genre had their “go to” visuals and stylings, creating a landscape of similar but passable two minute narratives meant to get you to the theater when the next batch of films came to town. It now seems odd that nobody back then really mentioned whether a trailer was any good or not, if they talked about it all after leaving the theater. Certainly nobody analyzed it for days afterward. They gave you a heads up for coming films and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. We are in vastly different territory today.
Previews are now trailers and they are very important in any film’s promotion, sometimes exceeding the buzz of the actual film in question. The biggest game changer has clearly been the internet. The vast majority of moviegoers these days watch trailers online, in their homes or at work (admit it, it’s OK). Kids can see them at school or at home. Parents can preview films before plunking down big money for a gaggle of kids to see something of questionable content or quality. Trailers are unquestionably serious business now. They have become films unto themselves, opening up a world of creativity by fans in the form of homemade trailers (some of which are strikingly good) while providing ample opportunities for even harsher and nitpicking analysis than ever before. Fans can watch a trailer countless times in succession if they choose, to the point where the trailers themselves become a focus of discussion. There are more than a handful of YouTubers who base their site solely on “reaction” clips, where they film themselves (and others) watching a trailer for the first time (we presume, anyway). It can make for quite compelling theater, actually, providing viewers a cathartic experience similar to when they watched the trailer for the first time. Some Star Wars viewers were seen shedding tears while watching this latest trailer, evoking emotions akin to a reunion with a long lost friend or even a religious experience (full disclosure: this fan became misty eyed upon seeing such rich imagery and nostalgia after so many years. I mean, really. Han Solo and Chewbacca, back again? Come on). In many ways, the trend embodies perfectly the inflated self importance of both film company and fan, validating the status of a film which hasn’t even been released yet as part of the cultural zeitgeist, even if for a week or month. Star Wars did not need to stress over the timing of its trailer release but there was significant pressure for them to get it right. In a big way. Given the mixed reaction to the prequel trilogy, Star Wars needs to hit home runs every time it comes to bat. Moreover, the legacy of the series is so embedded in our modern cultural DNA that coming up short in fans’ eyes is unthinkable. The film trailer has seen its currency rise rapidly in proportion to people’s access to entertainment online. We live in a Netflix world. The two are intertwined and dependent upon each other for success. Film companies need trailers to promote their product and generate huge buzz about their upcoming movies to keep people interested with repeat viewing, repostings and endless discussion. Which isn’t all bad. The trailer has improved, definitely. Go back and watch the first trailer for Star Wars (now known as Episode 4). It’s available. The segment is more in line with a space horror film than science fiction fantasy. Brooding music. Rapid, ragged cuts from scene to scene. A chilling narrator. Nothing like what we think of Star Wars today. The next two films’ trailers didn’t get much better. Strangely, the most vivid memory I have of any trailer was when I saw Episode IV in the theater as a young kid (during a re-release run in 1982) and the preview for “Revenge of the Jedi” was shown. I was amazed and very excited, even after the film was over. I told my friends about what I saw, the scenes I could remember. My recollection was a bit uneven, I will admit, but I was all in for the new Star Wars movie. “Revenge” changed to “Return” by the time it hit theaters the next year, but the trailer kept me thinking about it for months. Today, that same clip would have been dissected online over repeated viewings in hopes of finding something nobody else could see. And then watched again. In retrospect, that “Revenge” trailer wasn’t all that great. In fact, it wasn’t even good. I saw it once. And then again many years later on YouTube. It looked more like a novelty now. I couldn’t believe how limited it was, how small and unimaginative. But trailers didn’t have to be great back then. Or even good. They just had to be there. Today, most big films put as much effort into their trailers as they do the film itself. It’s just good business. And really, we all benefit from this mindset. Sure, trailers have gotten predictable again. Many have become over the top spectacles which challenge both one’s sense of hearing and sight with bombastic, tired and self aggrandizing film techniques. But the intent is there, the desire to make the trailer just as enticing and worthy of your attention as the film itself. And that isn’t a bad thing at all. Speaking of which, it’s about time for me to watch the new Star Wars trailer. Again.
