Richard McGuire (born 1957) is an illustrator, graphic designer, comic book artist, animator, children's book author, musician and toy designer. His illustrations have been published in the New York Times, The New Yorker, Le Monde, and other publications. His short story Here is likely the most lauded comic book story from recent decades. He is a founding member and bassist for the band Liquid Liquid. His bass line from the song "Cavern" is considered one of the most sampled bass lines of all time.
An updated book-length version of Here was published by Pantheon in December 2014. An e-book version was also published.
The Germanic first or given name Richard derives from German, French, and English "ric" (ruler, leader, king) and "hard" (strong, brave), and it therefore means "powerful leader". Nicknames include "Dick", "Dickie", "Rich", "Richie", "Rick", "Ricky", "Rickey", and others.
"Richard" is a common name in many Germanic languages, including English, German, Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, Icelandic, and Dutch. It can also be used as a French, Hungarian, Finnish, and Estonian name.
Richard († 1178) was a 12th-century bishop of Dunkeld. He got the bishopric of Dunkeld, the second most prestigious bishopric in Scotland-north-of-the-Forth, after serving the King of Scots. He was capellanus Regis Willelmi, that is, chaplain of King William of Scotland, and had probably been the chaplain to William during the reign of King Máel Coluim IV. He was consecrated at St Andrews on 10 August 1170, by Richard, former chaplain of King Máel Coluim IV but now the bishop of St Andrews. Richard continued to have a close relationship with King William, and was in Normandy with the king in December 1174 when the Treaty of Falaise was signed.
He died in 1178. He allegedly died at Cramond in Midlothian and was buried on Inchcolm. Both details may be the result of confusion with Richard de Prebenda, but buriel on Inchcolm was common for the bishops of Dunkeld.
Richard (died 1139) was an English Benedictine and Cistercian, the first abbot of Fountains.
He was prior of St Mary's Abbey, York. In 1132 he found that the sacristan Richard (died 1143) and six other brothers of the house had entered into a bond that they would strive after a stricter life and, if possible, join the Cistercian order, established in England about three years earlier. Richard, who had the good opinion of Thurstan, the Archbishop of York, joined the new movement.
Difficulties arose with the abbot of St Mary's, Geoffrey. He called in monks from Marmoutier then in York, and others, and denounced Richard and his friends. The Archbishop visited the abbey with several of his chapter and other attendants on 9 October, and the abbot refusing to admit his attendants, who were secular clerks, there was a quarrel. In the end Thurstan left with Richard and the other twelve monks of his party, empty-handed. On 26 December he established the new community at what would become Fountains, at Skeldale near Ripon, and gave them the site and some land at in the neighbourhood. Richard was chosen abbot, and he and his monks built themselves huts round a great elm. When the winter was over they sent a messenger to Bernard of Clairvaux, asking to be received into the Cistercian order. He sent them a monk from Clairvaux to instruct them in the rule, and wrote a letter to Richard.
I'm still holding your Judas disguise
And my will is still weakened by those Hollywood thighs
And I feel deprived
Because it's still the old powerful god that lies
Below, below,
And on/yes her Christian soul;
I don't even know
I'm still waiting for a renewal in my world
Hoping that you'd return cause these Christian girls
burn
And they burn and they burned all my skill
Now my will is as weak as a $5 bill
And I'm sold, I'm sold
And all their Christian souls,
I don't even know,
I don't even know
Ah, ah, ah, ah
I am willing to compromise
If I could taste your humble lies
I'd fall short again of a happy life
In this hell filled with husbands and brides
her soul, her soul I don't even know
I am willing to compromise
If I could taste your humble lies
our body is trained for the things I lack