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geminilily · 4 years ago

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The Goddess is the universal Mother. She is the source of fertility, endless wisdom, and comfort. Wiccans revere Her as the giver of fertility, love, and abundance, though they acknowledge Her darker side as well. We see Her in the moon, the soundless sea, and in the green growth of the first spring. She is the embodiment of fertility and love.

As the Triple Goddess she is represented by three aspects: the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The aspects each represent a different phase of life; the Maiden correlates with youth and puberty, the Mother with parenthood and maturity, and the Crone with old age and wisdom. Each aspect is then symbolized by a different phase of the moon, Maiden: Waxing, Mother: Full, and Crone: Waning & New. The phases represent the ever-shifting process of life unto death and then rebirth. She is the beginning and ending and everything in between.

The Number Three

The number three has often been a sacred number. It is still found in many sayings, such as, “all luck comes in threes,” or “a dream dreamed three times comes true.” Folktales often have three fairy godmothers or three wishes or three chances. It is also said by scientists that we live in the third dimension, the material world. Many ancient civilizations considered three to be a secret and lucky number. It symbolized birth, life, and death; the beginning, the middle, and the end; childhood, adulthood, and old age; body, mind, and spirit. Today, most schools of spiritual illumination have three steps or degrees. This can be found in the Masonic Lodge (Apprentice, Fellow-craft, Master) and most Wiccan covens or schools have three degrees. In numerology, the number three is the number of activity, creativity, talent, and knowledge.

The First Aspect: The Maiden

Sometimes called the Virgin or the Huntress, the Maiden represents the spring of the year and fresh beginning of all things. The Maiden is the continuation of all life, the repeating and endless cycle of birth and rebirth, of the body and of the spirit. She is the dawn, eternal youth, and she is enchantment and seduction. She is ripe with potential energy, vitality, wisdom, and spiritual growth. A lump of clay that has yet to be molded. She is represented in the lunar cycle by the Waxing Moon. The Maiden’s traditional color is white, indicating newness and innocence. She invites us to believe that future possibilities are infinite. She can be valuable when we need a fresh perspective on things. When we feel directionless she can be the creator of new ideas and new beginnings.

The Maiden is free with her feelings and emotions, often expressing herself in sudden decisions. She is empathetic to all creatures. She is independent, Her own person. No one owns or rules Her. She is responsible for Herself and Her actions. She knows who She is and dreams of the potential of what She can become. Vital to human happiness and growth is the Maiden’s determination to be Her individual self and all that She is capable of.

The Maiden is the Way-Shower in spiritual growth. She leads us down the spiritual path and urges us to combat our fears and hesitations. Through Her we learn to see the simple beauty and great wonder in the world. We remember how to imagine, which opens infinite doors in magick, particularly those of manifestation and astral projection. Without the ability to forget all the world has taught us we cannot do and look at the world with wide perspectives there remains a block on our ability to spiritually advance. In linear thought, in order to go forward, one must go back. In cyclical thinking one must always continue forward to reach the beginning again, however, in fluid thought, one can experience all aspects at once.

The Second Aspect: The Mother

The Mother aspect of the Goddess represents the summer, blazing noon, reproduction and fertility, and the high points in all cycles. She is in the ripeness of womanhood. This aspect is the one of ultimate and active creation. She is the great teacher of the Mysteries. The boiling or churning cauldron is Her symbol and She is represented in the night sky by the Full Moon. The Mother’s traditional color is red, the color of blood and the life force.

The Goddess as Mother seems naturally more accessible, because physical mothers tend to be closer to their children than fathers are. In the old days, there were no DNA tests, so a man could never truly be sure of fatherhood, but one could not deny a mother.

In the cycle of life, the Mother is associated with the stage of adulthood. Adulthood means accepting responsibilities, particularly those brought about by Her own actions. Acknowledging the results of our own decisions is one of the greatest responsibilities every individual, and humankind as a whole, has. By recognizing the Mother aspect of the Goddess we learn valuable lessons in self-discipline and patience as well.

The Goddess as Mother does not want Her creations to abuse themselves in anyway. Mistreating our bodies, whether by drugs and alcohol, or unsafe sex, or excessive food, or life threatening situations, it is against Her will. Mistreating our minds through negative self talk and staying in abusive situations are also not within Her desires. The Mother is balance and happiness, and enthusiasm for life.

It is through this aspect that we discover ourselves and our potentials; we learn to take responsibility for our actions. We learn to reach outward and inward, loving and receiving love. It is during this stage that we need to understand that every act of love is a ritual to the Mother Goddess, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. Love extends beyond the physical sexual act, encompassing acts of kindness and spiritual love. The Mother’s directive is, “To be loved truly, one must know how to love truly.”

The Mother is the great nurturer, Her love is unconditional, yet as with physical mothers, She disciplines when necessary. The Mother is confident in Her independence, going about the business of living while unconcerned with those who think they rule Her. There is no indecision within Her about Her abilities; She knows who and what She is. She is joy, and reveling in the joy of life itself. She is confidence, responsibility, and increasing knowledge of life. Along our spiritual journey she is the Great Teacher and Keeper of Knowledge. It is through Her that we learn the Great Mysteries.

The Third Aspect: The Crone

The Crone is the third and final aspect. She is also called the Dark Mother, Old Wise One, or the Hag. Since She is the least understood and symbolizes death, this aspect frightens many. The Crone recycles and reforms our soul into a new incarnation through Her cauldron. The Crone represents Winter, the night, the abyss where life rests before rebirth, the gateway to death and reincarnation, the Waning and New Moon, and the deepest of Mysteries and prophecies. Her traditional color is black, and the deepest of purples or dark blue. She is the Initiator into the Mysteries.

Advanced age and the wisdom of experience that comes with it should be honored and anticipated. It is a time of life when one can look back with introspection, remembering the good times with a happy heart and the bad times with wisdom. The rest of us could benefit from their help and hard-earned knowledge. Elders can pass on their knowledge by helping in schools, tutoring, and participating in events at community centers. They should demonstrate wisdom, vibrance, caring, and love.

The Dark Mother is the teacher of the very deepest of spiritual Mysteries, including the contacting of spirits. Through Her we learn the necessity of focusing our energy on important things, like spiritual growth, living our lives to the best of our ability while seeking the Goddess within. The Crone knows what She has been and what She will be. She is the ultimate Prophetess who sees the past, present, and future.

Everyone must come to terms with death and the Crone eventually. Most people have a healthy fear of death, which saves us from fatally risky behavior. That “will to live” is necessary to keep us fighting for survival through physical and mental illness. However, we should seriously contemplate our mortality. A comfortable relationship with the Crone will prepare us to handle the loss of friends and family. Eventually this relationship with the Crone will help us to make our own transition.

We must seek the Dark Mother not the other way around. When we continue our spiritual journey under the guidance of the Crone we find that the path that has led us downward eventually leads upward once again. With Her assistance, our eyes are open to the deepest spiritual mysteries. We gain the knowledge needed to plan a new life, whether that be the one in which we are now, or in the next.

Sources:

Maiden, Mother, Crone

D.J. Conway

Wicca: A Guide for the Solitary Practitioner

Scott Cunningham

Wicca: The Complete Craft

D.J. Conway

#triple goddess #maiden #mother #crone #Wicca #goddess

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fairykukla · 3 years ago

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Ode to Paulette Goodreau and her dolls

I was a doll collector. I had dozens of fashion dolls and action figures. My mom got into the BJD hobby, but I hesitated. It seemed expensive, and I was kind of intimidated by the size of the SD dolls.

For my mom's birthday in 2009, I threw her a dolly tea party. I knew that the first dolls Mom had gotten were Goodreau American BJDs.

I started cruising EBay to find a gift.

And I bid on two Vinyl MSD sized dolls. They had a very low minimum bid, and I figured I'd see which one I could win.

I won them both for minimum bid.

And it sent my hyperfocus into overdrive. I tore through my crafting supplies for eyes and something to make a wig. I stripped cloth dolls to get clothing and then started making dresses. I started playing with my other dolls again. I bought a wig from the local doll shop.

All before the two dolls even arrived.

At Mom's party I introduced my two new friends:

Helen and Trixie. Helen is a "Secret" and Trixie is a "Rumor".

Goodreau Dolls were my gateway drug. I have owned all four original "sisters":

Innuendo (resin)

Secret/Mirror (resin and vinyl)

Rumor(resin and vinyl)

Whisper (resin)

As well as: Privera (Miss Turry Revealed), Scatter the Scarecrow, 12 inch Hint, and critters. In the 5" size: Icky the Bat, Toto the dog, the elf, and Ashlyn. In the 8" size: Sid the elf.

That's... A lot.

My buddy, Icky. Mom and I collaborated on a photo contest. We won, and I contacted Paulette to let her know to send our prize doll (a little 5" reindeer named Twinkle) to my mom's house. Paulette just said that sharing a doll is no fun, so she would send us each one! I begged her for "the bat" and got him!

He's my adventure dude. He came to California with me, and the Field Museum, and all kinds of places.

My fairy godchild loved him so much that her mom and I arranged for her to get one of her own:

Meet Iko, one of Icky's many handsome cousins.

I never cared for Whisper. There's something... Wrong with that one. But I had a chance to see the resin version in person and realized that it was actually ok.

Here's my whisper in Resin, and a white vinyl one I faced up:

My Alexis is kind of giving me Madeline Khan vibes here, and the white one got a goth makeover. The teeth are still... Weird. She manages to have both buck teeth and an underbite. Bleah.

Of course, through this gateway I found a whole world of BJDS. I still love my Goodreau kids, though.

#goodreau #paulette goodreau #gateway dolls #bjd #legit bjd #rumor bjd #secret bjd #whisper bjd #privera bjd

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

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Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Seven

Words: 7.3K

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual situations, violence, abuse

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"Vivian, c'mon." Fred pleads, as I grip the headboard of the hotel bed as he tugs at my ankles.

"I'm not talking to that freaking reporter." I protest.

"Vivian."

"Rolling Stone can suck my clit." I argue back, trying to maintain my grip.

"Vivian, you are acting like a crazy person."

"I'm pretty sane compared to the other motherfuckers." I wince, my joint in my ankle popping.

"It's not gonna be that bad, Viv--"

"--He's gonna ask about Vanity."

"So, let him, you and Nikki already know how to handle the Vanity questions." He insists. "We spent an hour going over it yesterday."

"Fred, I can't."

"Viv, babe, c'mon, now. Please." He begs again. "For me, please."

I think about it for a moment, before letting go of the head board, gaining a relieved sigh from him.

"Thank you." He tells me as I pull my heels on and smooth my hair over.

The nightmare of that freaking Rolling Stone journalist following us around for days, picking and prodding, was everything everybody thought it would be. Possibly the deepest question he asked, about the actual craft of Mötley Crüe's talent, was, "so how is the amount of chicks you guys fuck incorporated into the songs?"

As if they would even answer that honestly being that three of them were married and one of the three had a toddler at home with his wife.

And I was particularly annoyed because me and Nikki had to act like the most in love people in the world to debunk the Vanity bullshit.

I hold my breath the second the question leaves his lips, but nobody can trip up on the inevitable topic that we knew would come up at some point.

Nikki's clearing his throat to cover the pause after "so, obviously there's buzz going on about the bombshell Vanity dropped on the Arsenio Hall Show" leaves Cal, our reporter's, lips.

"That whole thing was just...bullshit." Nikki tells him, laughing it off, looking at me.

I laugh along, too, although we both know it's the farthest thing from funny.

"I heard it was a 'misunderstanding' or something like that." Cal adds.

"It's not really hard to have misunderstandings with her, honestly." Nikki admits, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"So, there was never an engagement?"

"I think she's let Hollywood get straight to her head." Nikki tells him. "I'm not trying to be an ass but that really put us," he motions between himself and I, "in a really fucked position for a couple days because obviously you hear one of your girlfriends say, you know, 'hey, I'm engaged to so-n-so', and you're married to 'so-n-so', and then have that added stigma about guys like your husband not being able to commit because all the girls around and everything…" He trails off. "And, look, I'm not upset that Vivian was thinking there could've been some truth to it, ya know? But even after Viv realized it was all shit, it was all out there and people were--and still probably are--thinking that it's true. So the media is constantly, wherever we go, asking about my 'alleged' engagement and if we're still even married or got divorced a while ago and so on. And I could give a fuck about public scrutiny, myself, because I knew what I was signing up for when I started a band. I took everything into consideration, but she didn't sign up for people calling her 'stupid' and looking at her to do something, when Vanity--who has no idea what the fuck she's saying or how heavy the allegations she's throwing around are--convinces people that she's engaged to me." Nikki goes on.

"So, Vanity was lying?"

"Vanity was lying." Nikki shrugs.

"You opened up a little bit earlier about your past struggles with heroin--you didn't accidentally propose to her when--"

"Write this down word for word, and put it as the fucking cover quote if you want to: I, Nikki Sixx, would have to be on a high dose of pure horse tranquilizer in order to be so fucked that I'd willingly propose, or agree to get married, to Vanity." Nikki says matter-of-fact. "And that's married or single."

I felt horrible. I wasn't happy with Vanity, I was livid with her...but I knew what it felt like to feel crazy as a result of Nikki switching the story. The drugs were already taunting her sanity, and we just fucking added to it by saying something--that so obviously happened--never happened.

We were both so full of shit.

I let out a breath as I we get off the bus when we reach the venue, needing to get away from Cal and Nikki's lies for a couple minutes.

I catch up to Mick and Emi, who're having a conversation, Emi's girlish giggling has me raising a brow, and I feel someone tap on my shoulder.

Tansy.

"Fuck off." I snap at her and she looks like she's going to cry.

"Vi--"

"--You knew she was fucking him, and then protected them by keeping it from me. Fuck. Off." I clench through my teeth.

This is enough to get her off my back as we head inside, as Emi let's out more laughter.

Mick and Emi--who had a husband of 6 months back home--were growing closer and closer, oddly enough. I kind of knew something was up, but of course I never told anyone. I knew Nikki would give them hell for it, especially Mick, since he specifically told him, Tommy and Vince when they hired Donna and Emi, not to sleep with them/have a relationship with any of them because, "you don't shit in your own yard."

So I kept my mouth shut, but Nikki and the guys eventually caught on to what was happening, anyway, and he and Tommy set loose a wrath on them any chance they felt like it.

I keep my expression neutral as the guys make their way by to go on once Doc tells them it's time.

I avert my gaze from Nikki when he walks by, being that Cal isn't even paying attention.

But Nikki ensures the upkeep of our facade--his hand grasping my jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to get my attention, as he presses a solid, passionate, knee-weakening kiss on my lips.

When he's pulling away, he looks like he wasn't quite expecting it to be that good, but he's brushing it off in no time, giving me a smirk and a wink before grabbing his bass from his tech and getting where he needs to be for set, leaving me stunned in my spot.

Once I snap out of my little trance, I’m going to the bathroom to fix my smudged lipstick.

I let out a heavy breath as I look at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths. “He cheated on you.” I tell myself. “He lied, he slept with one of your friends, and he cheated on you.” I repeat, trying to hammer my level head back into place as opposed to letting it run wild with fantasies over stupid little kiss...which is easier said than done.

As I’m stepping out of the bathroom, I’m running smack-dab into Sparkie, and I roll my eyes at his mere presence.

“Sorry.” I mumble, stepping by him, only to hear him walking behind me.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” He starts and I exhale deeply, ignoring him, until he’s grabbing at my wrist, stopping me. “...I was gonna offer you a belated anniversary present but I guess you aren’t interested.” He states, dead, sunken in eyes cutting at me.

“I’m not interested. Fuck off.” I hiss.

“You weren’t whistling that note last night.” He echoes and I snap around, shushing him so the people around us won’t hear what else he’s about to say. He just gets this smug smile on his face.

“Oh, right, I forgot people would flip their shit if they knew Saint Vivian was interested in scoring.” He slyly smiles, his decaying teeth making me grimace. How the hell does Tansy kiss him?

“I wasn’t interested in scoring--”

“--Why the hell else would you show up to my room at three in the morning, Viv?” He cuts me short, and I let out a breath. “Unless you wanted to fuck or something…”

“You really are on drugs, huh?” I sarcastically shoot back in reference to him being so insane to think I would actually want to sleep with him.

“I’ve seen pictures of some cute little tricks you can do.” He says again, his fingers grazing at my cheek.

“Want me to go tell Nikki that?” I ask him--knowing I honestly should because Nikki would probably kill him if Tommy, Vince, or Fred, didn’t beat him to it--and he smiles.

“Sure, why not. It’ll be the perfect conversation starter as to why his precious, purely clean wife was in my hotel room after everybody was passed out.” He whispers, his atrocious breath is purely smoke and alcohol, before he’s rubbing his hand down my stomach, nearly getting between my legs before I force him away from me, controlling my urge to hit him as I turn and walk away.

There was no way to explain why I went to Sparkie in the middle of the night, without it sounding like I was up to no good--not just because Sparkie is the physical embodiment of “no good”, but because I actually was up to no good.

I wipe more of my tears, dotting cold water from the bathroom sink under my eyes to try to calm the puffiness before grabbing some toilet paper and blowing my nose.

I can’t fucking sleep, once again.

I dig in my toiletry bag to see if I packed any benadryl to help me sleep...but all I see is my bottle of Nardil.

I roll my jaw and feel frustration fill me before I’m unscrewing the cap and throw the bottle at the mirror, the pills strewing all over the bathroom counter. My hand is swiping against the cold counter, knocking a majority of the pills into the toilet before I’m flushing them.

They’re just a fucking waste of money. I’m realizing now they quit working a while ago, I was just so bombarded with loving Nikki in our perfect little bubble, but now it’s been popped, and I’m crashing down from my codependent high--that was disguised as genuine happiness and the lie that my antidepressant was working--is now gone.

A deep breath leaves my lips and I wipe my tears, again, deciding to just get something to put me to sleep.

One fucking ambien or quaalude won’t kill me.

The last place I want to be is pacing in front of Sparkie and Tansy’s room door but here the hell I am.

I knock on the door, quietly, hoping he isn’t completely smacked out or he won’t come answer.

When the door swings open, he’s in tattered underwear, his bloodshot eyes looking at me, confused.

The bitter smell of burning heroin and coke flows past him into the hallway, cutting at my nose, and I grimace.

“I can’t sleep.” I tell him, quietly.

“And?”

“I need something to help me sleep.” I explain.

My skin crawls when his eyes snake up my bare legs, his tongue running on the inside of his lips.

“I might have something for you.” He grins. “What’re you willing to give for it, though?”

I’m repulsed by him, but I don’t show my disgust.

“Nikki’s got plenty of money.” I state. “I can pay you back later.” He thinks a moment, before smirking.

“The satisfaction of giving you your first ‘big girl’ drug is enough.” He says, stepping aside, and I cross my arms and step into the room, seeing Tansy knocked out cold on the bed, her naked body looking like a skeleton.

He’s plopping his suitcase on the bed, opening it, and I feel a sick feeling in my stomach at the sight of insane amounts--in bulk--in coke, heroin--at least two different kinds, judging by what I've seen Nikki with the past few years--and a copious amount of pills.

I'm eyeing the pills, but when he reaches for a lump of tar, and looks at me deviously, I have to hold back vomit.

"If you want to hold up the Sixx reputation, I highly recommend this." He says as if it's a fucking joke my husband is strung out.

My eyes dart from the heroin, to the needles in a ziplock stored in the zipper compartment of the luggage.

"I just need a pill to help me sleep." I tell him and he holds back laughter before holding his hand up as if telling me to hold on for a second as he goes to Tansy's purse.

I hear him open a bottle and the rustling of pills, before he's bringing me back a pill and handing it to me.

Seeing it in the light, I realize it's a tylenol.

"Come back when you're actually fun enough to maybe keep Nikki's eyes from straying." He mocks me and I roll my jaw before throwing the pill across the room and storming out.

I didn't get any sleep that night.

I shake away at the memory, a single, stray tear rolling down my cheek before I'm quickly swiping it away as "Dancing on Glass" booms from the stage.

I was so fucking sad. I wish there was a way to describe it that didn't sound so mundane...but that's what it was. Just fucking sadness being suppressed constantly with makeup and a decent smile, knowing I wasn't good enough. I felt like I was living with my mom all over again.

After the show's over, we head back to the hotel with Cal in tow, shooting off questions left and right that have nothing to do with the show itself.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." Nikki mumbles, standing up and I know he's just going to get away from Cal, and decide I'd rather be trapped in a small bathroom with Nikki, than hear another question along the lines of "so what drug is your favorite?"

As Nikki's shutting the door, I'm getting my foot in, stopping him and he looks at me confused, before reluctantly letting me in.

We wait in awkward silence before I'm pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Don't kiss me like that again." I tell him, sternly but politely, looking up at him and he pretends to be infatuated with the sink's water knobs. "Nikki."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

"Oh, right. We hate each other, how stupid of me to forget that." He hisses.

"I don't hate you." I quietly say, and he lets out a breath.

"Not yet, at least." He scoffs.

"Nikki, you fucked up, that doesn't mean I hate you."

"But you're still filing for divorce the second Doc gives you the greenlight, right?" I don't say anything. "That's what I thought."

He slips past me and leaves me to myself, causing me to close my eyes for a moment, and glance in the mirror before joining everybody else.

He was right. I didn't hate him, yet.

The next day the guys are due to take the cover photo for their Rollingstone issue with Cal continuing to breathe down everybody's necks.

"Are you not worried about stomach ulcers?" Cal asks me as I take a sip of Pepsi as we wait for the guys to get dressed for the shoot, and I raise my brows at him. "You have at least three of those a day and it's unhealthy, isn't it?" He adds, trying to sugarcoat it with laughter.

"I drink more water than I do soda...would you rather me be snorting rails of coke or smoking crack or shooting heroin?" I bite and his face falls. "If I want to drink three Pepsi's a day--if I wanna drink 300 Pepsi's a day--I will." Apparently I'm raising my voice, because Doc and Fred are turning their heads in my direction and I can see them slowly making their way to me.

"Umm…" Cal says nervously as I show no sign of easing up on him.

"I've earned the right to drink as much fucking Pepsi I want, Cal, sorry it's not as aesthetically pleasing as Jack or vodka, or chain smoking Marlboros, or isn't as romantically tragedized as junk--"

"--Vivian." Doc starts as I continue.

"But I like it, it's not the worst thing I could possibly drink on a daily basis, and if I want to fucking drink it, I will!"

He looks like a scared weasel, backed into a corner, his eyes wide as he leans away from me slightly.

I didn't realize how close to him I am right now, I'm practically in his face, bitching him out over a fucking Pepsi.

"Vivian!" Doc's barking at me.

I'm backing off, with the help of Fred pulling me away from him.

I'm surprised Cal isn't pissing his pants currently, the look on his face says he's heavily considering it.

"Get him the fuck out of here." I tell Doc, motioning to Cal.

"Vivia--"

"--No, who the fuck does he think he is?" I argue with Fred when he tries to calm me down.

"What's going on?" Nikki and Tommy ask, coming over here.

"Nothing's going on, alright? Vivian's just--"

"--Vivian's just what?" I snap at Doc.

"I'm so sorry, she gets neurotic." Doc ignores me as he tries to reassure Cal and I'm slinging my soda out of the bottle, onto him and Cal, as I yell, "oh, I'm fucking neurotic?!"

"Viv!" Doc scolds me as I throw the bottle down and it breaks.

"Viv," Tommy starts and I snap around to him.

"Fucking say it, Tommy. I dare you." I grit out, the look in my eyes telling him, "say anything else, and I'll tell everything about Vanity and Nikki."

"It was a misunderstanding, alright?" I hear Cal explain to Doc.

"No, no." Fred sighs as he's keeping me from hitting Cal, pulling me away as Cal flinches to get as far from me as possible, looking at me like I'm crazy.

"Don't leave this out of your fucking article! It might just save the entire damn thing since your fucking journalism sucks more ball-pubes than your wife while you've been out here with your nose up our fucking asses!" I throw at him, and Doc closes his eyes and gives out a deep, disappointed sigh, while Fred's tugging me to the bathroom with Nikki on his heels.

The second the door is closed, Nikki's snatching me away from Fred, his hand wrapping around my throat--not enough to hurt, but enough to catch my attention--and he pushes me against the wall roughly, seering down at me.

"The fuck is your problem?!" He demands.

"Hey, cut it out!" Fred cuts in, separating us, glaring at Nikki. "Don't fucking grab at her like that, I don't care how fucking pissed you are, Sixx, you got it?" He points at him. "And you," he looks at me now, "I don't know what the fucking hell you are tripping on, or if you're on the rag, or what the hell kind of demon possessed you recently but you're being fucking ridiculous." He snaps at me.

My eyes are honing in on the rosary around Nikki's neck and I cut my eyes.

"Is that one of mine?" I ask him and he looks down at it.

"Maybe."

"For someone who hates God you really don't mind representing him."

"It's called a mockery, Vivian, get over yourself."

"Give it back." I hold my hand out.

"Fuck off." He replies, going for the bathroom door.

"I said, 'give it back!'" I scream.

"And I said, 'fuck off!'" He yells back.

"It's a fucking string of beads with a fucking cross on it!" Fred outbursts louder than either of us and we look at him. "You have like four, Viv, what the fuck does it matter? He's always worn them." He points out next and I huff out a breath.

I didn't mind when Nikki wore rosaries or crucifixes, I knew he was kind of mocking when he wore them, for the irony of a "devil worshiper" wearing one, but even when we got bad off I didn't mind...in fact as he got worse with his addiction, I hoped the spirituality that they represented would rub off on him and snap him out of his addiction.

It was stupid and I know better now, but Charlette Kinston was my mother. I did have a small speck of her in me, even when I tried not to.

Later that night--more like the middle of the night--I'm still unable to sleep and end up tossing and turning for hours before getting a bath, hoping the warm water will relax me and calm my racing mind.

Once I get out and get back into bed, I furrow my brows at the sound of something weird in my room, and I quickly realize what it is.

The unsettling sound of the door knob twisting and turning throughout the dark hotel room, catches my attention and makes my spine prickle.

I eye the walkie-talkie on my nightstand, and reach my hand out, turning it on. “2.” I say lowly.

“What, 6 and a half?” Fred’s exhausted voice replies.

“20.” I say, which is code for "where are you?"

“101." He grumbles back, "101" meaning the hotel. "In bed. Like you should be.” He says.

“There’s someone at my door.” I reply.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know what’s why I’m calling you.”

“You want me to get outta bed just to come see who’s at your door, when you haven’t even checked?”

“...Good point.”

“Just look and see, and then let me know if I need to come, alright?”

“Got it.”

I get out of bed, hearing the door knob still rustling, and I tiptoe to the door, peeping out the peephole, to see Nikki, drunkenly fumbling with his room key, trying to put it in my door.

“It’s nobody, they’re gone. Goodnight.” I say to Fred.

“G’night, Vivian. Get some fucking sleep, you need it.” He adds and I roll my eyes.

“I would if I could.” I mumble, swinging the door open to face Nikki. He doesn’t say anything to me before stepping in, his bottle of wine sloshing onto the carpet.

“This key doesn’t fucking work.” He says, tossing it across the room.

“Because it’s my room, not yours. Your key works for your room only...across the hall...where you should be.” I cross my arms as he takes another swig of his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when some of it trails down his chin.

“Are you strung out?” I blurt, wanting to know whether I should be ready to fight with Sikki or not.

“No, and I haven’t fucking shot up in a long time.” He points his finger in my face. “Just been chasing the Dragon.”

“I can tell.” I state.

“I’m not high, smartass. I came down an hour ago.” He sits the wine down on my nightstand and I raise my brows.

There’s a silent pause and I wait awkwardly for him to explain why he’s here, but as soon as I open my mouth to ask him, he’s saying, “you wanna go swimming?” I furrow my brows, confused.

“W-What?” I ask.

“You wanna go swimming?” He repeats, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like hangout or something.”

“Nikki, we’re separated. We don’t ‘hangout or something’ anymore.”

“No, but I’m not thinking straight due to the wine and heroin smoke, and you’re not thinking clearly because you can’t fucking sleep, so let’s just not think straight together--bonding experience--and pretend we’re at least friends.” He vouches, and I raise my brows, thinking about it.

“The pool’s closed. It’s nearly 4:00am.” I tell him and he scoffs.

“We’re Sixxes, Viv, we can do whatever the hell we want.” He says it as if it’s common sense. “And it’d be nice to practice being around each other without screaming each other’s heads off.”

I give it one last thought, before letting out a sigh.

“Fine.” I relent.

I was worried his sick plan was to drown me, and finally kill me, but soon after we put swimsuits on, and broke into the pool’s patio, I realized he was genuine about just wanting to “hangout or something” and it made me feel a little better that he missed me as much as I was missing him, even if he played it off smoother than I did at times.

“Is it cold?” I ask him as he wades through the shallow end seamlessly.

“No.” He tells me.

“Are you sure?” I question and he looks at me as I dip my toe in. “Nikki, it’s cold.” “Quit being a pussy and get in the water.” He says. “It’s not that bad, Viv.”

I dip my foot in, up to my ankle, and wrinkle my nose.

“Vivian Estine Sixx, get in the water.” He tries to hold back a laugh, keeping his stern facade.

“It’s not cold to you because you have more body heat.” I cross my arms.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I’m saying you’re thicker than me.” I correct him.

“You can always take your bikini off to get used to the water quicker.” He says and I raise my brows.

“That makes no sense.” I argue.

“No, but it’d sure make me happy.” He grins and I splash him with water.

I quickly regret it as he’s getting out of the pool, about to come after me.

“Nikki, stop!” I whisper yell and he catches up and wraps his arms around me before hurling the both of us into the deep end.

My body is shocked with the cold water, and the second I get my head above water, I’m gasping and shivering.

The second his head pops up beside me, I’m hitting at him.

“Jackass!” I scold him, and he laughs, brushing his wet hair out of his face. “It’s not funny.” I snap, swimming to the shallow and he follows me, still laughing.

“It’s so fun to piss you off.” He chuckles, running his hand over his face to get the drops of water from his eyelashes and I raise my hand to smack at him again but he raises his brows at me. “Fuck it off, Sixx.” He stops me before I even start.

“You started it, Sixx.” I reply, mimicking his voice.

“What's new…" He says with a small smirk, thinking about something before the corners of his mouth fall slowly. "...I've done a lot of shit." He starts and I look at him. "Shit I'm not proud of. I don't fucking know when to just do something a little bit. I can't have a bump, I've gotta go through an eight ball as fast as possible. I can't have a drink, I gotta drink the place dry. I can't have a serious girlfriend, I've gotta marry her." He says, and I glance at him and he shakes his head. "I can't just have a one-night stand, I gotta have a fucking affair." He finishes and I lick my lips, keeping my tears back. "This might be fucked up, but I've realized I don't feel like I shouldn't have had anything with her." He says in reference to Vanity and I furrow my brows. "I just feel like we shouldn't have gotten married to begin with."

It hurts like a bitch, but I know it's the truth, because I feel the same way.

"Me too." I admit and he finally looks at me.

"I wouldn't change it, though. I wouldn't go back and change it." He clarifies and I smile softly, my tears unable to keep at bay.

"I wouldn't either." I assure him.

He stares at me for a moment, looking from my eyes to my lips, standing up straight, before leaning down.

It's a sweet, simple kiss, that only lasts a moment.

It took me back to our first kiss. It was odd, because when we first kissed we couldn't stand each other very much, like we couldn't at that moment in our marriage, either. I don't know if that nostalgic feeling crossed the wires in our brains to convince us to chase one last high together, but one thing led to another and got out of hand like it always tended to do with anything a Sixx did.

I grin in the mirror at him as he mercilessly pounds into me to the hilt with each thrust, my right knee hiked up on the bathroom counter, my left foot standing on tip-toes as his right hand is around my throat, his left hand holding at my waist.

My original intent was to get a shower and leave the kiss at the pool, like it was: just a kiss.

But when we came back to his room where I had left my room key when I went with him so he could get his swimsuit on, and now I'm bent over his sink, tears in my eyes from the pleasuring pressure building up in me, the feeling of my wetness running down my legs at Nikki's doing, is something I've missed.

"Do you really fuck yourself or did you tell me that to piss me off?" He asks me, his dark eyes staring at me, causing me to clench down tighter onto him.

"I really do." I reply as he holds himself against my cervix, causing me to grab at the counter as the delicious pain causes a high pitched groan to leave my throat.

"Do you pretend I'm fucking you?" He questions next, deliberately slowing his pace, the friction of his skin inside my slick pussy satiating the hunger I've been feeling the past several days.

"Yes." I whimper out, my eyes rolling back for a moment.

"Who do you imagine playing with your pretty," his left hand snakes between my legs, calloused, rough, fingers rubbing at my slick flesh, and I back back into him, biting my lip, humming, "perfect clit?" He asks me and I let out a ragged breath.

"You." I confess, my knuckles turning white with how tightly I'm gripping the side of the counter.

"Whose cock do you imagine stretching your tight, hot, wet pussy out?" He asks next, and I'm almost considering trying to get away from him because I don't think I can handle this much ecstasy at one time.

"You." I say again, his hand holding my throat harder in his grip, making my breathing a little shallower, but it only makes me more turned on, another wave of my juices coating his length as he starts picking his pace back up, making me cover my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming.

"Whose name do you scream out in your pillow when you come?" He asks finally, a couple more stray tears rolling down my cheeks as my body is overcome with my orgasm, his hand taking my hand from my mouth as I moan out, loudly, "Nikki", causing him to smile proudly at me in the mirror.

Within a couple more minutes he's finishing in me, and stumbling back a little, a dopey, satisfied smile on his face, while we both come down from our sexbuzz and catch our breath, before going another round.

Nikki's said before, "you know you're addicted when you start lying to yourself about how you're not addicted."

I couldn't agree more.

But the real kicker is waking up to your husband the next morning after having sex, and the both of you pretend like you're strangers, not exchanging a single word before you grab your shit and get the hell out of their as fast as possible before anyone else realizes what happened.

For the first time in his career, Nikki Sixx treated me like a groupie.

And you know what?

It was better that way, because it left no room for, "Oh, well, we had sex which means we made up so we're good now."

We woke up, didn't look each other in the eye, I got off the floor, put my swimsuit back on so I wouldn't be naked, grabbed my key, and left without a word or a second glance.

There was nothing more to say.

We'd said "goodbye" to our relationship, the same way we had said "hello" to it in 1981: with sex that meant nothing, but meant everything, all at once.

We're back in L.A. a couple days later, and apparently Karen got some help cleaning mine and Nikki's room up where I completely trashed it, because when we get in the house, all of our photos are back up, his awards are nice and neat on the wall, and our room looks untouched.

The only give away that something happened is the broken mirror on the ceilings, but he doesn't seem to pay them any mind.

I guess he knew I would inevitably break something.

I keep my lips sealed tightly together as I hear our bedroom door open, initiating Nikki to walk by with a slight, hungover, stumble, as he makes his way to the kitchen, not saying a word to me, not that I expect him to.

He's coming into the living room a moment later, my bag of gummy worms I bought yesterday, in hand, and I roll my jaw, not wanting to start a fight over fucking candy…

...But go big, or go the fuck home, right?

"Those are mine." I tell him, pretending to be reading the newspaper I was reading earlier, and he looks me directly in the eye, opening the bag, taking one out, and eating it.

"My money, my groceries." He states, chewing it, and I exhale.

"I'm gonna go take a walk." Karen comments, sighing as she gets up and walks to the back yard, knowing this is going to get ugly.

"You're right. It is your money." I tell him, not arguing the valid point. "And if you keep splurging on heroin, you won't have any of it left." I add and he death glares me.

"I'm not on fucking smack." He argues sternly.

"You only eat sweets when you're trying to cut back smack." I say and he looks away from me. "At least you're trying to cut it, though." I mumble.

The bag of candy is suddenly colliding with my leg as he throws it at my lap, spitefully, standing up.

"Nikki, you can hav--"

"--It's yours. You have it." He hisses, going back to our bedroom, slamming the door loud enough to sound almost like a gunshot, causing me to jump in my seat.

Nikki: 1, Viv: 1

I decide to shower later on, opting for the guest bathroom to avoid having to see Nikki by walking through our bedroom to get to our bathroom.

I'm only under the running water before I hear the locked door knob twist, before loud banging on the door.

"Vivian!" He screams on the other side.

"Yes, dear?!" I call back, annoyed.

"What the fuck happened to my fucking cars and bikes?!"

I raise my brows, actually forgetting what I did to his precious vehicles until now.

"Open the fucking door!" He demands and I roll my eyes.

"Don't you have better things to do?! Like cleaning the fermented wine--that's been rotting in the hot heat of our garage--from the interior of your cars?!"

I hear the door knob move some more, and I peek out the curtain to see the knob twist completely, the door opening, and I see the little key in his hand.

We both stare at each other for one good second before I'm screaming as he comes for me, but I'm ducking under his arm and trying not to trip and fall on my wet feet as I scurry out of the room.

"I'm gonna kill you, Sixx!" He threatens and I panic a little.

"What the hell is going on?!" Karen asks us, keeping Nikki back when she steps out of the kitchen to stop him from chasing after me any further.

"She completely vandalized my fucking cars and my bikes!" He points at me.

"I didn't touch the Jeep." I argue and he nearly shoves Karen out of the way but she holds her ground.

"I'm about to call Doc if you two don't calm down." She threatens.

"I'm calling the cops and having her ass locked up." Nikki states.

"Do it." I boldly snap.

"No, no, no one's calling the cops." She says, letting out a breath.

"Do you wanna go see what the fuck she did to my fucking stuff?!" He raises his voice at her, motioning in the direction of the garage.

"Have you stopped to think that's a result of what you've done to her?" Karen questions him and he rolls his jaw. "I know you're not used to having repercussions and consequences to your actions, but it's a simple theory called 'cause and effect'." She states and he cuts his eyes at her, probably thinking she's full of shit. "The 'scorned wife effect.' You cheat, she destroys your belongings." She finishes, giving him a quick, sarcastic smile, before stepping out of his way. "If I hear either one of you screaming, again, I'm calling Doc."

He pushes past me, and I go back to my shower.

When I get out, Nikki's nowhere to be seen and the Jeep is gone so I assume he got out of the house for a few minutes, and when I leave our room, going to the living room, I stop in my tracks.

I see her from the corner of my eye, in the foyer, staring at me, and I turn to fully look at her.

She looks like she's been on a binge the past few days, her brown eyes wild and body slightly jittery, her hands gripping tightly to the sneakers I let her borrow a few months ago.

All I could do was stare at her, just knowing Nikki was going to have to come home and clean up the mess that he made.

“Vanity.” I acknowledge her, but not for long before I’m walking into the kitchen, hearing an oncoming storm approach as thunder rattles in the distance.

I grab a Pepsi from the fridge, hearing her slowly creep into the kitchen with me, and my eyes slowly find the knife block only an arms length away from me on the kitchen counter.

Sober Vanity wouldn’t think of hurting a fly. Coked out, crazy, reckless Vanity on the other hand…

“Do you have anything to say to me?” She asks me, shakily.

“Was it good, at least?” I reply, leaning against the counter, staring at her. “When you fucked my husband...knowing he was married...was it good?”

Apparently I’m striking a chord, because she’s got angry tears coming to her eyes, her jaw clenching.

“For someone who’s all about Jesus--”

“--He came to me.” She states, shakily, and I keep my face neutral, although I feel my heart tighten in my chest. “During your time apart last year, he saw me in a Vanity 6 video, and within two hours, I was getting a call from my manager telling me Nikki Sixx wanted a date night.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better about it?” I ask, raising my brows. “‘He came to me, I didn’t go to him’? Because at the end of the day, he’s married, and you knew he was married, and instead of turning him away, you welcomed him with open arms.” I point out.

“Have you ever thought perhaps I’m your punishment for not appreciating him?” She asks me, a tear breaking past her lashes.

“Excuse me?”

“God punishes his children when they’re not obedient. You made a promise to God to be the best wife to Nikki you could be, and you broke that promise more than enough times.” She adds.

“So you’re saying God used you--having an affair with my husband--to punish me?” I ask her to clarify. She stays silent, looking at me with pure hatred, and I nod a little, calmly.

My glass bottle is hitting her square in the chest before I can even stop myself, a look of utter shock on her face as Pepsi splashes all over her, her hand holding at the inevitable severely bruised skin bound to form from where it made impact.

Technically, since she wanted to get biblical, I was supposed to stone her to death. Being I didn’t have any rocks, and God frowns upon such things, I opted for a one-time thing that still hurt her but not enough to kill her.

I guess Karen heard the Pepsi bottle shatter on the floor, because she's coming in, with a concerned look on her face...before her skin goes sheet white upon seeing Vanity.

"W-What's going on?" She asks me.

"Vanity was just leaving." I state, rolling my jaw and Vanity looks at me like she's ready to attack.

"I'm not going anywhere until I talk to him." She hisses.

I hear the front door open, and I smile at her.

"Now's your chance." I smugly say, stepping past her, my shoes crackling on the glass as I take my sneakers from her hands, going to our room to put them up, saying, "I suggest you go to your room to avoid getting caught in the crossfire", to Karen as I pass by her.

When I get in our room, that's when shit hits the fan.

"You'd have to be on horse tranquilizer before marrying me?!" I hear her scream. "Huh?! You break up with me over the phone and then act like I'm crazy and embarrass me?!"

"You are crazy!" Nikki screams back.

I hear her shriek, before the sound of skin violently smacking against skin, as Vanity barks out, "if you hate me, hit me! If you just fucking hate me so much!"

I run in to see her hitting at Nikki while he tries to keep his patience.

"Vanity!" I scold, trying to pull her off of him.

Her left hand is suddenly coming back in a fist, hitting me square in the eye.

This does it.

She's knocked to the floor, and her nose is bleeding, Nikki's fist is clenched and smattered with Vanity's blood, and his eyes have a look in them I haven't seen before.

Vanity's now screaming and crying, kicking and clawing at him as he tries to grab her wrist to pull her up, so he instead grabs her hair and drags her out of the house.

"Nikki!" I protest, catching up to him when he's already got her down our front steps.

He let's her go and glares at me, before he stomps back in, slamming the door, locking us both outside.

Vanity's crying, a stream of blood running down her face, my own nose spilling red, but I can't help but crouch beside her and wipe the blood from her face and angle her head back as she sobs.

"Just pinch your nose." I mumble, taking her hand, that's raw from slapping Nikki, and pinching it at her nose.

I had never seen Nikki that angry. He later described his altercation with Vanity, as "hitting her like a man."

I'm not sure if he actually hit her just because she attacked him, because I attacked him multiple times, and he never hit me--the most he did was push me, or grab my wrists or my throat, and even that wasn't enough to really hurt me, just enough to get my attention.

I think everything was put into that single episode.

Every time she made his life harder from the moment she stepped in to it, and even his own self-hate for letting things get the way they did between them, all the anger he had felt for himself and her were packed into that single punch.

And none of it should have ever fucking happened.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #Motley Crue #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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wickedsrest-rp-archive · 4 years ago

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Name: Logan Shen Species: Human Occupation: Bartender at Faetal Attraction Age: 27 Years Old Played By: Kate Face Claim: Chloe Bennet

“Applied to this job for the free booze, stayed for the banging cosplay. These people are like walking Pinterest boards but better!”

Logan Shen was born to a Chinese immigrant father and a Caucasian, American mother in Queens, New York in the early 90’s. Her parents kept her on an extremely tight, and in her eyes, suffocating leash. At an early age, Logan was enrolled in everything under the sun; violin lessons, ballet, etiquette lessons, art classes, tennis lessons, etc. You name it, she was probably forced to participate in it. While Logan was less than graceful at sports and dance (two left feet will do that to you), she did excel in the arts. When her parents noticed this, they homeschooled her with expensive tutors and encouraged her to further study the craft. Her parents monitored her progress, were strict in her studies, and hardly allowed her much time to hang out in the city with her friends. Therefore, Logan lived a frustratingly sheltered and lonely childhood.

It wasn’t until early high school when she fell down the, as she likes to call it, “anime rabbit hole.” She only meant to check out one episode of One Piece, but then it turned into like… 300. And that, ladies and gentleman, was the gateway drug. Logan consumed every series she could get her hands on. It was an escape from the vice grip her parents had on her life; a way to lose herself in something completely foreign to her own small, controlled bubble.

Eventually, Logan started mixing her passions for art and anime into cosplay. She spent her free time locked in her room, designing and creating new outfits based off her favorite characters. And she got quite good at it, but it was always a secret hobby; she’d hide her creations from her parents, knowing full well that they’d never approve of her using her talents for something like that. They were more strict and traditional, and it drove Logan up the wall.

Logan graduated high school and moved as far away as her parents would allow; to Boston University to continue her studies in art. There, Logan was finally opened up to a new, unrestricted world free from her parents. To put it lightly, she partied. Hard. Logan, being a pretty social, bubbly, and trusting person, made friends easily and reveled in her newfound freedom. She also explored her cosplay hobby further; she joined the Anime and Cosplay clubs, went to her first Comic Con, and finally expressed herself in the way she’d always wanted.

With an art degree under her belt, Logan turned a little wayward and uncertain, unsure of what to do with her life. She created a cosplay and art-related Instagram account which garnered a modest following, and worked odd jobs around Boston such as bartending, waitressing, etc. Her parents begged her to move back to NYC and pursue a real career, but Logan refused. For several years, she drifted. On the outside people thought she was perfectly content with her life. On the inside, Logan was yearning for something, anything, to spice up her life. She just didn’t know what, or how.

Then, she heard a whisper in the small, cosplay community she was a part of; a town in Maine; Wicked’s Rest. It’s citizens dressed up all the time; as fantastical creatures, monsters, faeries, the whole bunch! And it was apparently just, like, every single day? The dedication! Logan took that small, bit of gossip as a sign and ran with it all the way to Maine. She settled into the town, applied for a job as a bartender at Faetal Attraction, and started a new life. While Logan is still pretty new in town, she’s doing her best to make friends with the other cosplay-loving patrons of the bar… but it’s not going too well. Someone even asked her, point-blank, what cosplay was?! Well, whatever, Logan will carve out a new life in Wicked’s Rest, even if it kills her! (And unfortunately, it just might, unbeknownst to her).

Character Facts:

Personality: Extraverted, sheltered, naive, overly excited, emotionally guarded

Logan “commissions” different art projects for people on her Instagram account, but when she likes you enough, she’ll just entirely waive the fee unless she really needs the money. She’s not great at running a business…

Her apartment is just one giant arts and crafts clusterfuck. How she finds anything in there is beyond literally everyone.

She roots for the Red Sox AND the Yankees, which is just… annoying. But she claims it’s cause she has allegiances to both cities. (But she also knows literally nothing about sports #FakeFan)

She actually studied violin up until her later high school years. Her parents were always pissed at her when she quit after high school. So, yeah. If you need a violinist hit her up lol?

She is currently not on speaking terms with her parents. If anyone asks about them, she hard swerves that conversation if she can.

#retired

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philosophyblogpost · 4 years ago

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Both Alcohol and Weed are Legal, Now What?

In 2016, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration began to increase awareness of alcohol-related deaths in the United States. For over a decade before 2016, the number of alcohol-related deaths remained under 10,000 people on average, however, between 2016 and 2017 the number of alcohol-related deaths increased by a whopping 9% in Maryland. This was a larger increase over a year than the state had experienced in the past ten years.

Alcohol-related legislation has been adapted in response to these numbers. Some states began to adopt stricter alcohol-related legislation while federal agencies began scrambling to pinpoint the cause of the spike. As of January 2020, the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism continues to report, “alcohol-related deaths involving injuries, overdoses, and chronic diseases are increasing across a wide swath of the population.” What does the future of alcohol-related legislation look like as the country inches towards a public health crisis?

Marijuana is oftentimes combined with alcohol but research suggests there is no telling whether the recent legalization of marijuana across 14 states will cause more Americans to abuse or become dependent on these substances. A study conducted in 2015 published by the Journal of Adolescent Health surveyed 599,109 high school students 18 years or older between 1978 and 2013. Toward the end of the study, researchers reported an, “increasing association in recent years between marijuana use and Heavy Episodic Drinking among Black adolescents”. If trends like this continue to develop, it can have positive effects on alcohol sales and the new marijuana market, but negative implications for alcohol-related deaths as marijuana becomes a gateway drug for more black adolescents in the United States.

There is also concern about the use of alcohol in conjunction with marijuana in terms of driving performance. A study conducted by the National Institute on Drug Abuse set out to determine the effects of combining marijuana and alcohol on driving ability and found that while, “low concentrations of THC do not increase the rate of accidents, and may even decrease them, serum concentrations of THC higher than 5 ng/mL are associated with an increased risk of accidents”. More research is needed in this area to support the claims that marijuana further impairs drivers when they are drinking alcohol and therefore can lead to more fatal unintentional accidents. Unintentional accidents are known to be the third leading cause of death for Americans and the number one cause of death in teenagers. It will be a test of time as studies take years to develop and legislators weigh the options.

________________________________________________________________

From the time these studies were conducted to now there have been increasingly strict laws passed to limit alcohol consumption beginning with “tax increases and enforcement of minimum age laws”, but most recent legislation has taken a huge toll on businesses. (EUR)

Take for example the nationwide spike in alcohol-related deaths that occurred between 2016 and 2017. This led to the lowering of Utah’s legal blood alcohol level for alcohol-impaired driving from .08 to .05. The recommendation made by the National Academies of Sciences, Medicine, and Engineering originally intended to lower the number of preventable deaths had an adverse indirect effect on businesses in Utah that sold alcohol.

In Pennsylvania, the CEO of Utah’s Restaurant and Lodging Association, John Longstreet, told the Pittsburg Post-Gazette that he feared the unintended consequences would be, “such a chilling effect that [patrons just] don’t go out.” Just last year, Congress almost passed the Craft Beverage Modernization and Tax Reform Act (CBMTRA). This law would have imposed a 400% tax increase for small independent breweries. While the public outrage surrounding the tax caused the House and Senate to roll back on this law, this may be a foreshadowing of future laws that will develop. Other legislation imposing alcohol taxes may stick if the science is there to back it up.

The recent legalization of marijuana may give a reason for concern as more and more drivers may feel comfortable operating a vehicle while smoking and drinking now that marijuana is decriminalized. Research, however, is not there to say if this will add significantly to the number of yearly alcohol-related deaths or not. Recent studies suggest the coupling of the two substances was an emerging trend among adolescents. It will be interesting to see if these trends stuck, spread to other demographics, or fell off. Also as the adolescents surveyed in the study grew up whether they have become abusers or dependents on the substances.

The results of the trends can either trigger new alcohol-related legislation or take a backseat as legislators become heavily focused on marijuana regulation, distribution, and sale. Will the wave of marijuana legalization across the United States trigger stricter alcohol legislation to discourage the combined use of the two drugs? Will these be in the form of excessive taxation as we saw in last year’s Craft Beverage Modernization and Tax Reform Act? One thing is for sure, if new laws come to lower the legal blood alcohol level nationwide, people will need to drink less than one standard drink per hour to stay under the legal limit.

What’s even more alarming than alcohol-related unintentional accidents are unintentional deaths involving opioids. According to the Maryland Department of Health, “Eighty-eight percent of all intoxication deaths that occurred in Maryland in 2017 were

Opioid-related.” It seems like legislators may have a bigger problem on their hands than alcohol. This can also draw attention away from alcohol-related legislation. Whether or not we will see them lapse or buckle down on alcohol remains up in the air.

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Lisa Wray is a Undergraduate student at Frostburg State University.

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jakattax · 5 years ago

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I was a lucky kid growing up, my family were largely bohemian and didn’t really pressure me at all to fall into a particular crowd or scene. For the most part I was left to decide my own hobbies and interests, which I feel as a working class northerner is an oddity. I was largely uninterested with anything considered the norm, I found the perception of normality to be terribly boring. I lived in my own mind, fuelled by my still present wild and colourful imagination, and nothing fuelled my imagination more than the idea of magic. Films like the ‘Wizard of Oz’ and ‘Excalibur’ were Bible to me, any media with witches, wizards and sorcerers utterly enamoured thing. I believe this fundamental obsession revolves around the concept of power, that these mystical men and women could achieve the impossible and bend reality by possessing a power that no hero-knight or any other could possess. The wizard or witch was a solitary creature, usually ostracised or eccentric, both qualities I possessed as a child. And so it was a common pastime for me to find the best stick that would act as my staff and to jump around the woods pretending to be Gandalf. I knew that magic could only ever exist in my own imagination and I stuck to this falsehood for many years. After a trip to the goth haven of Whitby with my grandparents, I realised that magic was very much real and was not limited to book, screen or my own closed mind. I bought a hazel wand (inscribed with ‘Blessed Be’ in futhark) from a Wicca supply shop and my first book of magic. This book of shadows was my prized object, with only the media portrayal of magic at my disposal I knew that every enchanter possessed their own book of spells, while mine wasn’t bound in human skin and written in odd runes, it was magic, real magic. Another very vivid memory was that a bought a handsome besom from the same shop, a gorgeous birch broomstick wrapped in colour silk, and so on our trip to the north York moors I placed the broom between my legs and jumped up and down over the heather. Alas I did not fly. Only in my mind.

Wicca was truly my gateway into my magical studies, even though I was very young I had absolute conviction that magic was very much real and tangible, I even recall having a particular fondness for a rain spell which seemed to work without fail. Naturally my new obsession with real magic just pushed me further from the grain of normality, thank God. Yet the older I got I started to become disenchanted. Like all teenagers I went through a period of abandoning childhood fantasies to focus on my image or popularity. Who I socialised with and how I looked over-rided any past passions. It is something I feel remarkably ashamed over, yet adolescence is a period in life in which one wears many masks for the sake of an easy time, even though I was bullied none the less for my bookish and overall weak disposition. But no-one could know I use to dress up in a pointy hat and make it rain. I killed that part of my childhood. This abandonment of magic continued until I was 16.

I was now in college and was the worst sycophant to a particular friend who I followed blindly. He was the coolest kid in college, a Casanova, I was discovering my own sexuality and realised too that I was deeply in love with him. Again I was sacrificing my core personality, but not for long. I was a theatre kid, and bloody good at it too, our first year assessment was based on the performance of a classical monologue. Know I don’t know exactly how I decided on it, or how I even knew of it, but I settled on Marlowe’s ‘Doctor Faustus’ to perform. I was a committed and serious young actor, finally in s subject that I cared for and excelled in so I conducted research into how i wanted to stage the piece. In my mind I wanted the stage littered in books and scraps of paper all bearing occult symbols, yet I didn’t know any. I didn’t want to cheapen the performance by having blank scraps of paper, they needed to be Faustus’ magical and alchemical work, so I used the library computer to find some.

And the gates opened.

Like a child again I was reading about magic, real magic again but this time I found a new mindset. In my research looking up Occult symbols to litter my set with, I came across a name, a name steeped in controversy to this day, the wickedest man in the world; Aleister Crowley. Reading up on Crowley and MacGregor Mathers brought me to a new and dangerous form of magic, the magic of the ceremonial magician. While indeed Wiccans and witches take their art and practise very seriously, there was something about the strict Methodology and science like nature of ceremonial magic that appealed to me more. Changing the weather was great and all but demon conjuration? Intricate magic circles and glyphs? Spirit evocation? Yes please, this was the magic that I wanted. And so I purchased my first Grimoire of ceremonial magic, the Ars Goetia.

This was a book I carried with pride, it was a conversation starter, I was the kid who studied demons. My image had changed after my then best friend moved to university, gone was the preppy and popular false Jack, now was the time for a brooding, dark clothed Jack who read Shelley, Byron and books of demon summoning in his spare time. To be frank it’s not a phase I’ve quite broken yet either.

As enamoured as I was by the Ars Goetia, I was no fool, I knew that in terms of practicality it was something I could not attempt, yet. The magic was complex, the tools seemed impossible to acquire and so I sat on my grand schemes of being a conjured per excellence, yet the flames in my mind were raging.

Three years later I moved to Nottingham for my university education, wonderful city. for the first time in my life I was with strangers who had no preconceived notions about me. I could wear a new mask. Yet I chose the hard path, I was at university so one should act as a university don should, I bought tweed suits from charity shops, wore a bow tie and started to smoke a pipe. I found rebellion by not being normal, fuck normality, the new Jack would never bow down to popularity again. I call my university years some of the darkest of my life, not only because of the daily cocktails of alcohol, drugs and severe bouts of depression but because these were the years in which I honed my craft as a goete.

I had the good fortune of renting flats with basements and because my flatmates were dull football types brainwashed by heteronormative coding, they were naturally scared of it and didn’t go down there. And as horribly cliched and Hollywood as it is, I began conjuring demons in the basement. Even though I had been studying the Goetia for a few years now, I still lacked pretty much everything needed, other than my own conviction. I used chalk for my circle and triangle of art, candles for mood lighting and some sticks of incense and began conversing to the shadows. The crazy thing is, the shadows spoke back. I knew that I had the crossed a threshold in which there was no return, while I had achieved magic with fairly simple effects, now I had truly pierced the veil and was openly seeing, speaking and listening to demons. The glass of reality had cracked, I was in a new world in which magic was the only truth. I had demon spirits perform many many tasks for me, some failed, some excelled. I tried to hone in my skills, realise mistakes and amend them. Then I started branching out, with my knowledge increasing I came into contact with more books, more new information and magic to discover; the Verum, the Cyprian texts, Agrippa, Abra-Melin etc. Etc.

Yet this was closeted. While I was unashamedly eccentric, I had too much against me as a gay man and an oddity. I suffered extreme bullying again and thanks to my depression made a suicide attempt, if anyone knew I was in the basement ordering demons to attack those who wronged me, it would be fatal to me. Or so I thought. The layman perceives magic as nonsense, Harry Potter glitter Magic that simply isn’t real and if you believe in it you either have too many cats or are just delusional. They do not understand that magic and only magic is the highest form of science there is, the microscope or telescope can see hidden things that the eye cannot yet so can a scrying ball. For all the wonders that science can perform and demonstrate, it cannot lift the eyelids on the falsehoods of reality, only through magic can we truly see between the lines and realise that the mundane world is shrouded in mysteries that only magic can answer. And so due to this fear of being stigmatised, I kept my magic a secret.

For the best part of a decade I studied and practised Ceremonial magic in private. Whenever my parents or housemates we’re out I’d grab my tools and begin my work. My library was growing, my collection of magical tools too, I was growing and flowering into a proficient 21st century Magus. Then two years ago I decided fuck it. I was tired of keeping a fundamental part of my spiritual beliefs and occult practises silent and so I outed myself as a ceremonial magician. Not to much fanfare however, everyone seemed largely indifferent, probably just another one of jack’s eccentricities. But no, magic is no hobby, no idle pastime or frivolity to me, magic is in my Veins and every breath, it is my true calling in life to study, explore and understand my place in this world through the Occult sciences. I am a magician who can charm you or tear you to pieces just as easily, I live in a demimonde of illusion, I achieve the impossible.

When you sit before the scrying glass and see a spirit looking into your eyes, you must reject all notions of a normal reality and accept wholeheartedly that magic is real.

#going mad again #dunno why i wrote this #i was told to #24/7 scrying is frying my brain #fuck it #its like my life story #someone play a tiny violin #i need sleep #bye #i saw weird shit tonight #im writing a book of prophecies

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evolutionsvoid · 5 years ago

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Throughout history there have been moments of sudden inspiration and bizarre enlightenment. When one is struck by some random idea that catalyzes a thought process that few have wondered. What comes forth is ingenuity and invention, delving into unknown places and experimenting with untried techniques. Those who walk this bizarre path may find nothing at its end, seeing only the failed tests and the useless creations that didn't survive the transfer from their dreams. There are some, though, who have found greatness on this personal quest. Grand inventions and breathtaking creations can emerge from these places, those of which no one has ever seen. People of all walks and trades know these stories, of the pioneers and voyagers who defied the rules and changed everything. From a breathtaking painting that wows the world, to simple techniques that overturn decades of rigid practices. These are the tales that fascinate and inspire us, for if one being can bring about so much with a simple thought, then why not us? Well, it may be because some of these voyagers may not have been on this journey alone. To this day it is not known where these beings come from, or what they really are. It is clear they do not come from the mortal plane, but from somewhere far beyond. One can not definitely describe what they are, for they take many shapes and forms. The only thing given to these bizarre entities is a name, one born from feverish dreams and crazed ramblings: Uri-Kaa. They are beings that dwell far from the known realms, yet they are much closer to this world than one would expect. While their true forms are far beyond our reach and understanding, their influence slithers through our minds and dreams like wicked serpents. They stalk the realm of thought, seeking those susceptible to their powers. While they are believed to possess great power and magic, their true flesh cannot survive in the mortal world. To pass from their reality into ours in their true forms is impossible, or perhaps lethal. So instead they must seek a vessel that can carry their essence, but such things are rarely born in the mortal world. A perfect vessel requires so much and demands utmost perfection, the slightest flaw will make it useless. Even so, each Uri-Kaa is different from the next, so each vessel must be built with their essence in mind. With this, it may take a millennia or more before a viable vessel is crafted, and such a time frame does not suit them. Waiting for such a moment is an unbearable task, so the Uri-Kaa will take matters into their own hands. If the mortals cannot build these perfect forms themselves, then perhaps they require a little assistance. While their true bodies are useless for crossing over, their ethereal forms are perfect for what they seek. Shapeless and unseen, they plunge into a world of thought and dreams, where mortal minds tend to wander. It is here that they search for hosts, for those who are susceptible to their influence. Any sapient species can be a target, as it requires those who think and dream. Of the many who walk the earth, there are only few that an Uri-Kaa can influence. While some would assume that these folk are those who practice the occult or delve into dark magics, it is not so. Instead, the Uri-Kaa seek creative minds, and such things can be found in many different places. From blacksmiths to writers, from architects to painters, it is any that delve into the art of creation and craft. For it is these minds and hands that have the potential to create the perfect vessel, but it is still no easy task. Even amongst this endless horde of craftsman and artists, very few are open to the Uri-Kaa's influence. Dabblers and doodlers may not be submerged enough for the Uri-Kaa to take hold, while the hardened and experienced may be locked behind mental walls. Like the vessels themselves, these hosts require just the right conditions for the Uri-Kaa to slip in and begin their work. Some claim it is desperation and doubt that could make one a target, while others suggest that obsessive minds and lonely lives are the true cause. There are even those that believe that certain drugs and forms of release may leave the mind vulnerable to these beings. Regardless of the many theories and ideas, there is no solid evidence of which are the true catalysts for an Uri-Kaa infestation. The only thing known is that the targeted hosts are often creators and artists, those whose craft is the gateway to their arrival. When an Uri-Kaa finds a vulnerable mind, they will begin their slow and insidious game. The first encounter is often in dream, as our sleeping minds are at their most exposed. Their presence will be hidden and their influence will be subtle. Odd imagery here and there, whispers of words that the brain can barely understand. This first instance will hardly ring any alarm bells, as many write it off as a weird dream. As they go about in the waking world, though, they will feel an odd nagging in their mind. A small fragment of the dream will stick with them, and they will wonder why it bothers them. Even then, this is nothing that any fret over, as it is the same sensation one gets when they lose their train of thought or a known detail eludes their tongue. When they go back to sleep, the Uri-Kaa will leak more of its influence into their dreams. Bit by bit and day by day, the host will start to slowly develop strange thoughts and odd lines of thinking. They will find themselves thinking "What if...?" or "Let's see...", as they begin to go down unknown avenues and try unheard of things. The rigid rules of their craft and art will start to break away, as they follow the paths of innovation and inspiration. Even then, who would ever suspect outside influence? Such thoughts and actions are not uncommon to a creative mind, so many don't think twice. As they dabble and experiment, the Uri-Kaa will continue to subtly guide them. If the host shows promise, then the Uri-Kaa will increase its efforts. Over the period of weeks, the entity will slip more and more into the host's mind, its presence being felt even in the waking world. As the victim works and tries, whispers of inspiration and guidance will echo in their brain. Vessels require strange ingredients and bizarre techniques, so the Uri-Kaa will steer their host towards these practices. Painters will find themselves using odd ingredients for their pigments, while blacksmiths may suddenly use ignored metals and unconventional shapes. Even writers who are plagued by an Uri-Kaa may find their words taking strange forms and their stories ignoring all conventions. If all goes well for the Uri-Kaa, and all goes wrong for the unfortunate host, they shall stumble upon the formula for the entity's vessel and the true work shall begin.

This is when Uri-Kaa infection becomes noticeable, as the victim will begin a new personal project that will consume their life. Every waking moment will be spent working, creating and honing their technique, with no thought towards personal health or safety. Jobs will be ignored while friends and family are shut out. Nothing can get in the way of their masterpiece. Any efforts to tear them away from their project will be met with anger and perhaps violence. The victim will believe that they are on the cusp of a great epiphany or a world-changing creation. To stop for even a moment would be criminal, as the inspiration could be lost or the project could be sabotaged. If they are not stopped, then the Uri-Kaa will step in for the final touch. It is at this point that the Uri-Kaa will completely take over the host's mind and they will begin to steer the ship. Observers will find the victim working in a trance-like state, like one walking in their sleep. They will ignore all outside stimuli, focusing entirely on their masterpiece. With the Uri-Kaa's hand, they shall add the final touches to their project and the vessel will be complete. The entity will then leave their mind and flow into the strange creation, at last having a body of its own. Once this happens, the host will be freed from their control, as their essence is now fully in the vessel. Victims will suddenly snap to, as if waking from a dream or trance. Their memories of the whole thing will be hazy, with them growing murkier as the Uri-Kaa took more and more control. Often the hosts will be surprised by the creation before them, as they are not quite aware of what they were making. This astonishment and confusion, unfortunately, will be the last thoughts they will have of their own. For when the Uri-Kaa gains its vessel, it shall finally have access to all its powers, and their prior host is often the first they use them on. Once given a physical form in this reality, the Uri-Kaa will at last be able to fulfill its desires. It turns out that many of these entities are vain and greedy creatures, lusting for the treatment that gods receive. They desire worship and flattery, with no amounts of praise and love ever fully satisfying them. It seems the vessels they inspire often reflect their own wants, as many Uri-Kaa who possess art and pretty things desire adoration and awe. Those who take on the forms of weapons, armor and other tools often seek reverence and fear, enjoying the legends that grow from their conquests and actions. Unfortunately, few mortals wish to worship such twisted entities, so the Uri-Kaa must take these things by force. All Uri-Kaa have incredible psychic abilities, and these powers are often used to control others. Mind control is a favorite of theirs, as it guarantees that everyone they encounter shall join their flock and serve them. How they hypnotize their victims depends on the forms they take, with art-based Uri-Kaa often mesmerizing those who look upon their beauty and tool-based ones taking control through physical contact. By mentally enslaving others, they can create a cult that will endlessly worship them and seek out fresh victims. The first addition to this group is often their previous host, as the Uri-Kaa enslaves them as they are recovering from the possession. While it looks like they just bathe in adoration and praise, it is believed that they also parasitize those under their influence. Life force and other energies are slowly drained from their worshipers over time, keeping them alive so that they can feed on them for years. The more victims under their control, the more energy they receive which fuels their powers. The abilities of an Uri-Kaa vary, as each seemed to be tied to the form they take. At first some may find such a thing laughable, as how can an Uri-Kaa formed from a book harm them? Such humor is often lost when living words and razor sharp ink rip them to pieces. As more join their flock, their power and deadliness increase. They can also consume materials that fit their form in order to bolster their size and power. If an Uri-Kaa reaches a certain power threshold, its abilities can start to warp local reality, creating a nightmarish kingdom for itself and its slaves. If one wishes to stop these bizarre parasites, it is best to snuff them out early. Due to their enslaving powers and cruel desires, many seek to destroy any Uri-Kaa that manifests in our realm. While it is believed that there may be good Uri-Kaa out there that do not mean harm, most have proved to be quite dangerous and ravenous. The best way to eliminate these entities is to make sure they never cross over in the first place. This means stopping them before they can fully infect a host and create a vessel. This tactic, however, is quite difficult as an Uri-Kaa infection is hard to spot before it is too late. Strange thoughts and creative thinking is something anyone can do, so one cannot just go after every person who has a weird idea. Even targeting those who isolate themselves or become obsessed with their craft is not guaranteed to work, as some people just kind of do that themselves. In the end, warding off early Uri-Kaa infection comes down to the individual. Self-care and healthy practices can help thwart an Uri-Kaa's influence, as these entities wish for their hosts to work non-stop on creating a vessel. Finding others to surround yourself with also helps, as they can spot the signs or notice when one's behavior starts to radically shift. If the infection gets to the crazed obsessive stage, friends and family should restrain the victim and get them to the nearest doctor or mage. While magic and medicine can help fight off the Uri-Kaa's power, the best cure is keeping the host from working on the vessel. The victim should be confined and kept away from anything that has to do with their craft. Those who are concerned should take this time to locate the masterpiece and destroy it. For a few days, the retrained victim shall scream, fight and seek to escape, desperate to get back to their work. This part will be rough for those who care for the victim, as the Uri-Kaa will do anything to get its host to the vessel. They will try every trick in the book and will even threaten to do self-harm if they are not released. If one can keep the victim safe and restrained for long enough, the Uri-Kaa will grow frustrated and leave. These entities want a vessel as soon as possible, so if their host is unable to provide, they will abandon them and seek out another victim. Some wonder if certain innovations and inventions were originally inspired by Uri-Kaa who were unintentionally thwarted by their host. Those who were given influence, but then were lucky enough to escape full infection. Or perhaps they were the work of these supposedly friendly Uri-Kaa, those who wish to enlighten rather than possess. If one seeks to destroy an Uri-Kaa that has obtained a vessel, they will find it to be a daunting task. After spending so much time gaining its new body and following, the Uri-Kaa will not be so quick to lose it. They will throw everything they have at their attacker, which is why it is important to destroy them early on. A newly formed Uri-Kaa will not have a cult to sic on their foe, nor will they have an energy source to fuel their more dangerous powers. Even then, they should not be taken lightly, as they will seek to enslave their attackers. The use of magic and psychic protection is highly recommended, as protecting one's mind is just important as guarding their body. Avoiding eye contact with an Uri-Kaa is also crucial, as many use this to mesmerize their victims. The use of tinted goggles and protective masks can ward this off while keeping your eye sight unimpaired. If you can avoid their physical attacks and spells, then you can destroy their vessel and banish the entity. Without its specially built body, its essence will fade from the mortal realm and return to its own plane. If the Uri-Kaa has grown in power and worship, the fight will be much harder. Their enslaved victims will be thrown at its foes, and they will not think twice on using their followers as living shields. Their powers may have reached reality-warping levels, so the world around you may become a bizarre nightmare. Those who have done battle with these godly entities speak of painted worlds, living weapons and murderous words. In such a scenario, it is important to remember the two main weaknesses of an Uri-Kaa: their ego and their influence. Since they are fueled by pride and vanity, they are easy to enrage and predict. By simply insulting their beauty and status one can bait them into traps or ambushes. Defacing their appearances can also be destructive to an Uri-Kaa, which ties into their second weakness. The type of vessel they inhabit influences their powers and ways, which shows in the worlds and cults they create. While this gives rise to some bizarre abilities, it also leads to some unique exploits. An Uri-Kaa made of stained glass can be disoriented or weakened by robbing it of light. Its transparent body relies on light to fully show its beauty, so taking that away can cause it problems. One made of paints or inks can be damaged by spraying it with water or with a jarring pigment that clashes with its color scheme. These strange tactics can be used to weaken the entity and disrupt the realm it has created, leaving an opening for its destruction. When an Uri-Kaa is banished from this realm, its powers will vanish as well. The world it has created will collapse and reality will return to normal. Those that it had controlled will be freed, though some may not come out unscathed. Those who are under its influence for days or a few weeks will be perfectly fine after recovering from the shock. Those who were mentally enslaved for months or longer may experience long term mental problems. Due to relying on its presence to direct them for so long, they may experience periods of confusion and disorientation. They can also be haunted by a sense of longing and emptiness, as if they have been robbed of something wondrous but they cannot remember what it was. Attempts to find a replacement will be made, but no physical object or piece of art will fill that void. This and other issues may make it difficult for the freed victim to fully return to their old normal self, but proper care and help from others can ease these trying times. There has been wonder of the motives of the Uri-Kaa, as some cannot understand why such powerful creatures settle for simple pampering. With reality-bending potential and the ability to enslave many, one would think they would be bent on world conquest and the such. However, it seems that they are intent on gathering followings and creating their own little kingdoms to rule. For example, one of the strongest Uri-Kaas that was encountered took on the form of a grand mural within a rather famous cathedral. The sprawling painting of the gods drew in crowds from everywhere, and it turns out that this entity was feeding off of these tourists. Though it had enslaved most of the clergy within this place of worship, it seemed content to let the crowds come and go. Perhaps the regular ceremonies and constant flow of onlookers was enough to satisfy it without having to use its powers, or perhaps it was trying to lay low. When it was finally discovered and fought, the entity distorted the whole cathedral into an endless labyrinth of halls and paintings. Its power was immense, but it was eventually destroyed. This begs the question on why such a thing never tried to extend its reach. Surely it could have gathered more into its flock by enslaving every visitor, or it could have consumed the entire city into its own reality. The current idea is that the Uri-Kaa may be trying to avoid too much attention from the outside world. Yes, they want endless praise and power, but they don't want to catch the eye of slayers and heroes. They probably know by now that this world does not take to them too kindly, and that any that are found are immediately hunted down. Or perhaps they do not fear the attention that can come from this realm. Talks with otherworldly beings and summoned entities have given the impression that Uri-Kaa are not the all mighty powerhouses we believe them to be. Most speak of them like one would speak of a lowly rat, nothing more than a pest. Perhaps the Uri-Kaa flock to this realm because they can insert themselves into the top of this reality's food chain? A big fish in the ocean is nothing more than bait, but when put in a small pond, it quickly becomes king. And perhaps this big fish is keeping the boasting and splashing down lest something even bigger decides to join the party. ---------------------------------------------------------------- When it comes to creating a possessed object monster, it would be quick and easy to just say "this thing is possessed by a demon or spirit" and then be done with it. My lunacy, however, does not allow for such efficiency, so here is this essay. The description also turned into some weird art obsession thingy which was never intended. If you think I am trying to say "people who obsess over their art and craft are crazy or influenced by demons" I would have to say that is incorrect. What my stupid self is trying to say is "what if a painting could eat you? Huh, weird." Also I am so gosh darn proud of the writing Uri-Kaa that is in the back. The amount of effort it took to figure out and execute that body was quite surprising. If I knew a thing about digital art, than it would have been made in five seconds, but I am a fool so it involved a whole lot of tracing (and learning how cursive works). The bummer is that I was so pumped with its design and then found that most of it was obscured by the two in the foreground and then muddled with the page wings. Maybe people can still see what created its body, but if not I uploaded the plain form to my scraps here: (www.deviantart.com/evolutionsv…) Because darn it I spent all that time on it I am going to show it off!

#monster #creature #possession #possessed objects #art #drawing #cursive #demon #eldritch

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neoduskcomics · 5 years ago

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Ranking All 10 Star Wars Movies

The final installment in the Skywalker Saga (as it is now retroactively being christened) is upon us, and so I’ve decided to do a bit of a retrospective on all the films leading us here.

The purpose of this personal ranking is not to put down any particular films or to invalidate anyone else’s opinions. In fact, I will be focusing largely on what I like about each movie, rather than what I think was wrong with it. I’ll still touch on criticisms of each film, but know that even if I don’t think they’re all objectively amazing films, I still like every single one of them, and have watched each one numerous times.

The fandom, as it always has been, is so weighed down with hatred and lashing out and segregation, that it overshadows the unabashed joy and love that many still hold for that galaxy far, far away. And so, I’d like to put that anger away for a second, and just talk about why each of these movies holds a special place in the Star Wars saga.

10. The Phantom Menace

Chronologically the first film in the series, and also the first on this list. I saw this movie when I was pretty little, and I have to say, it’s the first Star Wars film I ever saw that I actually enjoyed. When I was a kid, I never cared for the original trilogy. Those movies bored and, to be honest, kind of frightened me. But Phantom Menace was replete with colorful visuals, whacky humor and loads of CGI action. That appealed to me quite a lot.

Yes, in retrospect, the plot is contrived, the characters are incredibly bland and pacing is all over the place, but it was my gateway drug into the magic that the rest of the franchise had to offer. And I’m gonna say it -- Jar Jar Binks was probably half the reason the movie kept my attention for as long as it did. All the other characters were so stuffy and stoic, and all they talked about was an overly complicated plot of political intrigue; Jar Jar added some much needed humor and levity for my childhood self to stay interested. It’s heavily flawed for sure, but I can’t rag on this movie too much when I have it to thank for the love that I have for the series now. Besides, Darth Maul kicks ass, right?

9. Attack of the Clones

Is it controversial to rank this above The Phantom Menace? My reasoning is twofold: 1) The movie has an actual emotional throughline to follow, that of Anakin being frustrated with his feelings of fear, resentment and love; and 2) There’s a lot more action. The Phantom Menace was my first step into the shallow side of the Star Wars pool, but this movie is what got me to dive in headfirst.

Is the dialogue embarrassingly terrible? Yes. Is it 75% CGI fluff? Yes. And as a kid, I ate all that stuff up. Plus, honestly, the movie’s not all bad. People started liking Ewan McGregor as Obi-Wan with this movie, as the charming, dry-humored, slightly exasperated mentor. We got a load of lightsaber fights, and chases through cityscapes and asteroid fields. There was a ton to think was cool about this movie. Sure, it’s still messy and awkward, and it’s loaded to the brim with outbursts of teenage angst, but this is the film that really got me to think lightsabers, starships and bounty hunters were just the most awesome things ever. You can bet I had a few specific items on my Christmas list that year.

8. Solo

I saw Solo a second time this year, and on a re-watch, I actually enjoyed it quite a lot more. It’s fun and frantically paced, there’s loads of Star Wars fanservice, and the lead actor actually does a pretty good impersonation of a young Han Solo. The supporting cast is pretty likable, too, and the dialogue is always snappy. The action sequences were exciting, and while the movie does go out of its way to try to answer every single question about Han-related trivia, I still think it’s fun to see how things unfolded.

Sure, the movie is pretty hollow when it comes to its themes. Han doesn’t get a very solid character arc in the movie, and we definitely don’t see a very cohesive transformation from relatively altruistic kid to completely self-centered nerf-herder -- and that’s a real shame. But honestly, as a Star Wars side story and blockbuster action film, I think it’s a pretty solid couple hours of entertainment. If you shrugged this movie off when it came out or weren’t impressed and haven’t seen it since, I say maybe give it another chance. You might still not like it, which is totally fair, but maybe tempered expectations and a slightly more lenient attitude will allow you to enjoy it a bit more this time around.

7. Rogue One

Now, as much as I enjoyed Solo as a relatively shallow but fun Star Wars action movie, it is not my favorite Star Wars movie of that brand. That honor goes solely to Rogue One. This movie is pure Star Wars fan service. You got X-wings, TIE fighters, stormtroopers, AT-STs, AT-ATs, star destroyers, new ships and infantry armor, and let’s not forget Darth Vader. That scene with him at the end of the film is one of my all-time favorite scenes in any Star Wars movie. I got chills watching that sequence. It was everything I’d ever wanted from a Darth Vader cameo.

Now, Rogue One might be almost nothing but action and fanservice -- most of the main cast of characters is not terribly interesting or memorable -- but that’s okay. This is a lot of people’s new favorite Star Wars movie, and I don’t think it’s hard to see why. It’s basically everything fans loved most about the prequels -- the spectacle, the new worlds, the new weapons, the new soldiers, while still trying to keep true to the spirit of the franchise, and making nods to its roots. The characters can be bland, and some of the fights drag on a bit, but it’s still a thrilling ride. Also, K-2SO is probably the funniest character in any Star Wars film.

6. The Last Jedi

This movie has some of the greatest, most powerful moments in the entire franchise. Rey’s relationship with Kylo Ren and their confrontations with Luke were an incredible emotional foundation to the story. Many of the visuals were dazzling, and not all but many of the jokes landed pretty well. Luke was provided with a realistic and interesting character arc that gave room for actual growth and depth and struggle -- not simply making him another wise old Jedi Master with a padawan who turned to the dark.

This movie took a lot of risks, and not all of them panned out for sure. I disagree with a lot of the narrative choices in this film, especially when it comes to how Kylo Ren and Rey’s relationship ends up by the end of the movie, and what they did with Poe and Finn. However, I cannot understate how great I think other elements of the story were. This is the movie that made me actually start to feel like Rey was a more fleshed-out character, and it made Kylo Ren my new favorite character in the sequel trilogy (also I really like the fight with the praetorian guards, which I guess is a controversial opinion?). While the movie is deeply flawed, it also has a lot in it that is deeply good, and that is definitely worth something.

5. Return of the Jedi

It was very close for me between this movie and The Last Jedi, but I settled on placing episode 6 higher because, to me, it just presents a more elegant narrative with a more cathartic resolution. Return of the Jedi gives us a strong and satisfying conclusion to Luke’s story, and is probably full of more heart and love than any other installment in the series, showcasing bonds between Han and Leia, Leia and Luke, and a reforged bond between Luke and his father. The team is reunited, and it feels so good.

That being said, the movie does have its share of flaws, many of which are in common with The Last Jedi. A lot of the movie feels like needless padding and sort of wasted screentime for the main characters, aside from Luke, who didn’t get much of a meaningful role in the story. However, I feel that it’s counterbalanced by the fact that this film also has some of the most powerful drama in the series. Luke’s confrontation of Vader and the Emperor is wonderfully tense and exciting, and it comes to a stirring conclusion. Plus, Han, Leia, Chewie, C-3PO and R2-D2 are all still their lovable selves, bantering away and getting in way over their heads. It’s kind of hard to not find the film charming. All in all, a great way to wrap up an iconic trilogy.

4. Revenge of the Sith

I remember when this film came out, some critics even went so far as to say it was “better than the original trilogy.” While that’s certainly up for the fans to debate, I do think this movie demonstrated a sense of clarity that was lacking in either of the other prequels. It’s a story all about one thing -- Anakin wants to stop his wife from dying a certain death, and will do whatever it takes to make that happen. The resulting story is filled with incredibly potent pain, fear, anxiety, suffering and darkness, as Anakin fights and eventually gives into temptation.

Okay, yeah, the dialogue is still mostly terrible, and the acting can still feel forced and awkward, but I think if you’re able to look past that, you’ll see what it easily the strongest narrative in the prequel trilogy. It also has a lot of things that the other two prequels were missing: humor (the entire beginning sequence is a fun and largely comical ride not found in the other prequels), memorably dramatic scenes (“Did you ever hear of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?”) and the wickedly over-the-top Emperor finally taking the spotlight with his cackling and pontificating. It may not be the most gracefully crafted movie in the series, but it does have one of the most powerful stories to tell, and I think that’s what ultimately shines through.

3. The Force Awakens

I love this movie. The action, the effects, the characters, the humor -- it is a cavalcade of blockbuster science-fantasy wonder. Abrams did an outstanding job retooling the original trilogy to suit a modern audience, with new, creative takes on the faceless, nameless stormtrooper, a Darth Vader stand-in who knows he’s a stand-in and hates it, and a burgeoning hero doesn’t run toward adventure but away from it. There is an energy, a sort of vitality, to this film that I don’t think you can find in any other installment in the series. It’s dazzling, powerful and full of spirit.

And yes, it has its own fair share of flaws. The political situation is weirdly under-explained, the movie heavily relies on the original films as a template for the plot’s structure, and Rey could’ve used more coherent development as the protagonist of the film. However, I wholly and heartily believe that the movie more than makes up for all of that with its unique and charming cast of original characters. I loved Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren, Finn, and the returning Han and Chewie in this story. They all did wonderful performances with snappy dialogue, great performances and thrilling fights. It would’ve been great if the studio had tried to stray from the norm more, sure, but The Force Awakens, in my eyes, is still an exhilarating, warm and entrancing entryway into the territory of a new era for the franchise.

2. A New Hope

This one was tough to place. If I’m being completely honest, I think I probably actually like The Force Awakens more as a film, but it just doesn’t sit right with me to not give priority to the original. And I think credit should be given where credit is due: this movie, for better or worse, revolutionized cinema. It’s the movie that started it all, defying all odds and expectations. It’s the ideal archetype of the hero’s journey; a boy from humble beginnings meets with an old mentor who shows him a much bigger, brighter, and scarier world that he must face for the good of the world he lives in. Along the way, we meet some of the most iconic and memorable characters in the history of film -- Han Solo, Princess Leia, C-3PO, R2-D2 and the ever-lovable Darth Vader.

Now, has this movie been overly mythologized? Yes. Has it in many respects aged poorly? Sure. It totally has. The dialogue can be goofy, the action can look hokey and the pacing can feel terribly slow. But a lot of people will throw statements around like “It’s only famous because it was the first” when looking at movies like the original Star Wars, or the characters contained within. But I think that line of reasoning is misguided. Cheesy sci-fi features, space operas, action movies, roguish characters, princesses and humble heroes were not invented by Star Wars or George Lucas, just as people with superhuman abilities were not pioneered by the creators of Superman. And yet, this movie stood out in all of moviemaking history, proving that it had accomplished what no film like it had before. It is not a beloved film simply because it was the first. It’s the first because it was beloved.

Honorable Mention: The Clone Wars

Not the movie, the series (because the movie was basically just the pilot to the series that honestly shouldn’t have been shown in theaters). It doesn’t technically qualify for this list, but I just have to mention it (honorably). This series took a look at the prequels, for all their flaws, and said “I can make people like this era of Star Wars.” And you know what? They succeeded. The versions of Obi-Wan, Anakin and the many clone troopers featured in this series are now often the versions people think of when remembering the Clone Wars era of the saga. It was a rollercoaster of a series, with surprisingly dark and dramatic stories, as well as shockingly good action and visuals.

Sure, there were a lot of subpar episodes, but those aren’t what people remember. People remember a version of Anakin that made him a likeable hero, a new Jedi padawan for the audience to identify with, new stories that deepened and expanded upon the lore of the universe, and some really cool warfare that honestly blows a lot of what we saw in the actual prequel films out of the water. If you haven’t seen it yet, get a free trial of Disney + and start binging.

1. The Empire Strikes Back

Okay, okay, yeah, we all saw this coming. Not exactly an original opinion, is it? Still, I can’t deny that I solidly believe The Empire Strikes Back to be the best-made Star Wars film. It may not have the razzle-dazzle of the prequels or the sequels, and it may not have the satisfactory finality of Revenge of the Sith or Return of the Jedi. But what this film does have is care. It’s a movie that feels like it was carefully crafted from top to bottom, with every scene, every narrative throughline, every theme and every line of dialogue.

This is where we got “Do, or do not. There is no try.” This is where we got “I am your father.” This is where we got “I love you/I know.” This is where Vader really cemented himself as the end-all-be-all big bad of the Star Wars galaxy. This is where Han and Leia became the cinematic couple of a lifetime. This is where we really learned about the Force, the Jedi and what sorts of trials Luke would have to face were he to take on that legacy. It’s a magical film, full of wonder, hope, darkness, tragedy and love.

I won’t say it’s a perfect Star Wars movie, because it’s not. No Star Wars movie is. But that’s the beauty of the franchise. Everyone values something different about Star Wars. Everyone has their own favorite movie or series or book or comic or even theme park ride. It’s a phenomenon that spans generations, each one looking back fondly on the era that came before. There were people who grew up on the original trilogy, and now we have people who grew up on the prequels. And in just a few short decades, we’ll have people who grew up with BB-8, Kylo Ren and Rey, and that, to me, is just fantastic.

I know many of you have already written off Star Wars, or at least the new movies, but I am both nervous and excited to see where this all goes in seven days. And I know that there are many of you out there still celebrating Star Wars, holding it dear to your hearts, and not forgetting the feeling it gave you whenever you first fell in love with the franchise. I hope that feeling stays with us, and that it cuts through all the hatred and shouting and derision.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to watch today’s episode of The Mandalorian.

#star wars #ranking

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booksoanahasread · 4 years ago

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Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare

I loved this book just as much as I did the first one. It is a phenomenal book and I read it in less than 24 hours, which is shocking since it is 500 pages.

This is such a great read and a fantastic sequel. I loved getting to know the characters better and finding out more and more stuff about them. I found all the details and the pasts of the characters fascinating and wonderful.

Getting to know Will better was a blessing. I now understand why he was constantly rude and arrogant, as a defense mechanism. The poor child thought he was cursed and was going to cause the death of everyone who loves him. He may not have acted in the best way, but it is certainly understandable.

Jem was just as sweet as he was in the first book, but I must admit, his proposal to Tessa was surprising and probably a bad idea. They were both 16 and 17 year-olds who really haven’t a clue about life and emotions. I felt incredibly bad for Jem since he was so ill that he couldn’t survive without the drugs.

Finding out that Jessamine betrayed the shadowhunters was absolutely heartbreaking. She was gullible when she actually thought that Nate wasn’t using her. She couldn’t fathom the fact that he didn’t love her, she wished so much to be loved that she ignored all the red flags.

Charlotte is such a fantastic character. She’s a natural leader and a fantastic friend. She cares so deeply for others, she would do anything to help them, an admirable quality. I found her to be wonderful.

In all honesty, the secondary characters in this series are marvelous, they are relatable and heartwarming. The evidence that the author is detail oriented is the complexity of the secondary characters.

I loved the fact that the Lightwood brothers had to help the London Institute and train Sophie and Tessa. The training scenes were enjoyable and a gateway into the Shadowhunter Society. What’s fascinating is that the Lightwood brothers were relatively good teachers and they genuinely tried to help the girls.

I loved the entire plot of the novel and how they kept trying to find Mortmain. It was suspenseful, especially the trip to York to find out what Mortmain’s ties to the city are. The whole storyline was well-thought out and crafted perfectly.

The last hundred pages, where the London Institute found out about Benedict Lightwood’s promiscuity with demons were absolute perfection. It was shocking to see how his son, Gideon, changed sides after learning the information. Sometimes what’s right must come before family, especially before a father who infected his wife and the mother of his children with demon pox willingly.

To conclude, I think this is a great novel and I can’t wait to read the next novel. I hope that I shall devour it as I did with this one.

[I borrowed this book from Biblioteca Judeteana Cluj-Napoca, American Corner]

#clockwork prince review #clockwork prince #cassandra clare #shadowhunters #jem carstairs #will herondale #tessa gray #charlotte branwell #young adult fiction #young adult fantasy #young adult romance #ya #young adult #ya fantasy #ya romance #ya fiction #book review #books #book

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schoolblogroxanne · 4 years ago

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How can I create a non-pathological culture, while embracing deviancy and tradition at the same time?

In order to make a non-pathological culture you need to know what a non-pathological culture is a Non-pathological culture does not focus on the leader's personal interests and resources. The information is not processed in a way to further or advance particular parties within the organization but to benefit the organization as a whole; this culture may seem abnormal but can be a beneficial way for the community. In order for it to work you need to know how to act in the deviance in the society; to balance the scale in the society, the wants and needs of the society and if these things are essential, for example, if the law of the government that is in power does not coincide with the needs and wants of the society, the society will feel alienated from nation it serves, it will break the balance and cause chaos, just like what happened to the Philippines when it was occupied by other nations, a revolution occurred because the balance was lost when other nations applied there laws and tradition to the society, therefore a non-pathological culture can be doable due to its components and ways, not only the government or the people that are on power will benefit the but all of the people who are under this nation or society. Non-pathological culture is not power oriented and is a positive type culture.

Deviancy is classified in two types, Over conformity and Under conformity, Over conformity is based on accepting and conforming to norms without question where the actions, traits and ideas of athletes and coaches involves such an extreme conformity that they perform “supranormal” actions and potentially endanger themselves and others for example models, Some models suffer anorexia due to their obsession of having a thin body: Anorexia is form of eating disorder which the person having this psychological disorder fears to gain weight. Another example of deviant Over conformity is that an athlete makes sacrifices for "the game", an athlete strives for distinction, an athlete accepts risks and plays through pain, and an athlete accepts no limits in the pursuit of possibilities. Because of the presence of this moral code of athleticism, athletes who over-conform to theses norms and commit deviant acts aren't necessarily viewed as deviant. The four main norms of the sports ethic states that an athlete must make sacrifices for the game and accept risks, which can in turn, glorify the decisions that an athlete makes to behave in a deviant way. If an athlete decides they need to better their physical health in order to succeed in their sport, and decides to take performance enhancing drugs or along the way, develops an eating disorder in pursuit of becoming a larger asset to their team, according to the sports ethic, they are only fulfilling their duties as an athlete, some athletes also do Over training or staleness occurs when an athlete ignores the signs of overreaching and continues to train. Many athletes believe that weakness or poor performance signals the need for even harder training. So, they continue to push themselves. This only breaks down the body further pushing the body to its limit. This act of deviance Overconformity is mostly acceptable in the athlete society because other athletes will understand what that person feels and the reason why he did those deviant acts, even though there is bad side on this type of practices some of the characteristics of this deviancy has a positive effect because of their goal to be the best or the be known they motivate their body in order to reach those goals.

The other form of deviancy is Under conformity, under conformity is based on ignoring or rejecting norms, this often happen to people who has low esteem, those people who take their talent for granted and people who are under too much pressure. This type of deviance is a negative form of deviance, the complete opposite of deviance over conformity, this type of deviance can result to generalizations or stereotypes, people will consider you taboo, someone who is not acceptable to the society, because people are more used with the uniform ways, doing under conformity makes you different, strange , or much worse a bad influence to other people, some culture reject this kind of thinking because it may affect there laws and tradition, an example of under conformity is obesity, obesity is a complex disease involving excessive of body fat, a gateway disease that may cause other diseases and health problems, such as heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure and some other certain cancer. Another example to this is an unmotivated student, a student that avoids academic challenges; the student shows boredom and lack of attention in class, in order to tend to this unmotivated student you need to do two things he first is to change his thinking so he comes to believe that, if he puts forth effort, he can be successful with academic tasks. The second is to figure out what does motivate them to identify the settings, situations, and conditions that he responds to and that can be used to foster his interest, so here we it the two types of deviance, deviance has its good side and its bad side, If we use deviance in a good way we could gain from it but we need to put balance on the decisions we make, because too much of anything is bad, other traits of having a deviant under conformity is that the person having this have sub normal ideas, traits, actions that indicate rejection or ignorance of their existence. This type of attitude could link into anarchy and lawlessness, this type of mindset can be dangerous to the people around him/her because he/she could harm them in order to get their wants and needs, and also this type of deviancy can cause the person to lose confidence to self and due to being unmotivated it can affect the people around them and in academic studies.

Tradition can also be preserved even though there is deviance, it can be preserved by Sharing your culture's art and technology. Each culture has its own clothing, music, visual art, storytelling traditions, and many more unique characteristics. Other members of your culture will be overjoyed to teach or talk about their hobbies, their jobs, their crafts, and what they do for fun. This includes traditional artwork you would find in a museum, but material culture goes far beyond that. Even a kitchen spoon or a piece of software is a cultural artifact. People with less sophisticated technology are often considered ignorant or less intelligent. This is completely wrong. Culture passes on tools adapted to a particular environment, and every tool has generations of thinking behind it. Shaping a stone tool is one of the oldest cultural practices there is, and it still takes great skill and knowledge. Cook family recipes. It's never too late to whip up some recipes from your grandmother's cookbook. Smell and taste have powerful connections to memory. As you knead dough or try to guess the right amount of spices, you might remember meals from you childhood or holidays. Just reading a recipe can teach you how much ingredients and kitchen tools have changed. And even if some of them are unfamiliar, others have most likely become your comfort food or a source of family pride, even though these are simple things it is very effective in preserving the traditions you grew up to have another way to preserve tradition is to Accept change. The dialogue around passing on culture often sounds defeatist. Cultures are "endangered" or need "preserving" before they die out. Real challenges and threats do exist, but don't assume that all change is bad. Culture helps people adapt to the world around them. The world has always been changing, cultures have always been adapting, and it's up to you to choose a direction you can be proud of. Almost everyone participates in more than one culture. Be proud of your blend of ideas and behaviors, Talk about it and share it with other people. People are often fascinated by the different ways that people do similar things. Start a conversation and help bring others into the fold, sharing your culture is a good way to connect with other people, therefore the society can still embrace deviance and traditions. Some individuals use technology as a means of deviating from more traditional cultural norms. For example, in the United States, employees in offices are encouraged to remain productive and efficient, letting their minds wander off-task as little as possible. In the past decade, most companies have installed high-speed internet access as a means of improving efficiency. However, employees often appropriate the internet access to avoid work by using social networking sites. Such procrastination and corporate inefficiency stemming from internet access is called “cyber loafing”, but even though employees cyber loaf it the installation of high speed internet connection has motivated the employees to work faster.

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