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Make Up For Large Eyes


make up for large eyes
    make up
  • makeup: an event that is substituted for a previously cancelled event; "he missed the test and had to take a makeup"; "the two teams played a makeup one week later"
  • constitute: form or compose; "This money is my only income"; "The stone wall was the backdrop for the performance"; "These constitute my entire belonging"; "The children made up the chorus"; "This sum represents my entire income for a year"; "These few men comprise his entire army"
  • constitution: the way in which someone or something is composed
    large
  • at a distance, wide of something (as of a mark)
  • Of greater size than the ordinary, esp. with reference to a size of clothing or to the size of a packaged commodity
  • Pursuing an occupation or commercial activity on a significant scale
  • a garment size for a large person
  • above average in size or number or quantity or magnitude or extent; "a large city"; "set out for the big city"; "a large sum"; "a big (or large) barn"; "a large family"; "big businesses"; "a big expenditure"; "a large number of newspapers"; "a big group of scientists"; "large areas of the world"
  • Of considerable or relatively great size, extent, or capacity
    eyes
  • Each of a pair of globular organs in the head through which people and vertebrate animals see, the visible part typically appearing almond-shaped in animals with eyelids
  • (eye) look at
  • (eye) the organ of sight
  • The corresponding visual or light-detecting organ of many invertebrate animals
  • The region of the face surrounding the eyes
  • opinion or judgment; "in the eyes of the law"; "I was wrong in her eyes"

Care for a close-up?
Care for a close-up?
You can almost see into their lives now. Going even closer up from this point (though I could have done it) would have been almost undecent. Privacy and intimacy become pretty relative in these blocks, sometimes close to non-existant. They all know what their neighbours are doing. (haha) And there's always some old hag eyeing you through the tiny eyehole of her door, keeping good record of who's coming or going. Each block has got theirs. People with a lot of time on their hands. They do know everything about you. Or at least they would like to... and where they have no facts, they patch up with rich fantasy. Back in Communist days, some of them were informers of the Secret Police, the "Securitate". A block is much like a small village. Well, that's where most of these people have been brought in from, in the 1950s and 60s. That was the boom of the Socialist Industry, and people were pulled in from villages to major cities to fill in those (mostly unqualified) jobs and positions. Ohwell, there was a lot of learning by doing, it's been much of a common practice back in those days. Being able to prove your "healthy origins" was much more important than knowledge and competence. "Healthy", read: coming from the lower classes -- worker or peasant ancestry, and parents Party members. What Party? There was just one political party!!! And every asskisser got enrolled and involved for minor advantages of different kinds. (a better job position, easier to get a car, an apartment, and even food, etc.) The rest of the historical parties were all banished, and their leaders sent to rot in jail or force labour camps, as enemies of the Socialist State. If you were coming from a family of higher class intellectuals or former businessmen (read: dirty capitalists) and non-Party-members like I was, your name spelled Trouble with a big T. And doors were often shutting in front of you. Only less than 10% of all positions were made avaliable to itellectuals and their descendants, and even that only if you were politically clean. If your parents enrolled in the Party becoming informers or party activists (well, most often both went hand in hand), you still had a chance. Those were the kind of people we've called perverted intellectuals, or ass-kissers of the regime. Cristina's grandfather has worked for several years in a force labour camp. He's been tried along with a small group of his colleagues (second-year students by that time!), for allegedly secretly gathering and making plots to undermine or overturn the system. Thus he was dubbed an enemy of the state. One or two of the guys were executed almost immediatly at point blank. The others got sent away, to dig what was going to be the Danube Canal with their bare hands, in force labour camps down on the southeastern plains, in burning heat or freezing cold, depending on the season. "Politicals" (political detainees) were sent in places like that, and many of them haven't made it back alive. If you hear of an old man that he has "been at the Canal", you will know he was a political dissidant. The sintagm has become a scar in our memories. Some of the country's finest top intellectuals and former politicians have died there. (That while all the scum was changing political colour, to stay afloat.) There are plenty of stories about that horrible place, but people are already starting to forgive and forget, as time goes by. Killing thousands of intellectuals, innocent people, just because their political views were not matching with the system is not something a nation should ever forget. They also took care of constantly blending people across different provinces, to ensure of uniformisation in both wealth and culture (by blending people from poorer regions with those of the richer ones), resulting in an almost complete loss of identity and apartenence over time. This technique has also helped with the diluting of ethnical "problems", wherever a minority had a "potentially dangerous" percentage. Descendants of these unrooted people now make up for large part of today's population in the big cities. And even though economical conditions are not so great nowadays, they've got nowhere to go back, and they don't even want to. They've got used to this city life, whatever that means for them, and going back to their grandparents' villages and farms is not an option anymore. Or at least, not an attractive, acceptable one. Well, it's better to just slack over in the city, instead of all that hard work the countryside requires. Taken from yesterday's fallout (and there's a lot). Don't worry, today's pic will be something completely different. Well, later.
Yellow Eyes (or are they Black?)
Yellow Eyes (or are they Black?)
I have been watching for another large Parsley Caterpillar so I could try to get a clean shot of his true eye(s). I think I got it! The yellow spots in the fold (prothoracic shield) look very much like they should be eyes but the true eye is the shiny bead (rather 6 lateral eyes (the stemmata)) on the pale green patch just above the thoracic legs. You can't see the 6 eyes but at least you can tell this is it and if you look at the full size photo you can see at least 3 of the eyes that make up the loosely formed circle!

make up for large eyes
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