#Ant man agere

[outlandish-dreamer]

Ant man CG moodboard please?

Of course! I hope it’s okay! 💞🐜

CG! Scott Lang Moodboard!

[kurtismcilroy]

Hey for all the people who follow me for the agere content, I'm kind of on an ant man kick (still a big fan of tom ofc!!) so I was wondering, if I make anything to do with agere ant man would that be okay?

(Tagging some moots that have agere accs but you don't have to vote ^^) @tinysharkzz @lokidips @eyluvu @yummy-littlespace @kazzy-boo-baby @aew-kun-age-regression @geekgirl-33

[averagecontentenjoyer121]

This is the first chapter of my take on the Epic Musical story :D The main idea of a banished Athena story being inspired by Coqeuxari.

I hope whoever reads this enjoys it as this is really the first narrative writing I’ve done for myself, so I can put all my writing effort into it.

Feel free to talk about in the comments whether you liked it or not and why that is. Also I have ideas for the entire story I just have to flesh it out so if you want to ask anything about the story go ahead and I’ll try answer unless if it’ll spoil any surprises I want to add

Decided to post this directly here for right now as I had a AO3 account but forgot the password so I have to make a new one.

Anyways

One war

One decision

One Man’s desire

Chapter 1: Troy

During the late hours following the Greeks retreat from Troy its citizen came forth. Stepping out of gates for the first time in ten years was a strange feeling to these men and women. As they exited a strange sight lay before them. A construct of grandeur, of worship, of deceit. They gazed upon the giant brutian horse at its feet resided a being in a drunken stupor. Sinon proclaims the being as its consciousness breaches the blockade of alcohol surrounding his brain. He slurs his words into a barely understandable statement, “Da rest ov a men eft me ear o ells yeahs dis orse is to orgive oos for da estruction of yeas atue ta atena.”

“Good sir care to repeat what you’ve said.”

“Ifa’s ant oondand meh den ja shupid.’

“Appears the god of wine kissed his lips sir.”

“Clearly, perhaps whatever he’s said could be true?”

“I dunno sir, we’s can’t understand a word he’s said.”

“Get the prophet. If he can read the stars then surely he can read the contorted mouth of this man.” A man is usher forward by the crowd. Still bitter from the death of his child by the Greeks, he begrudgingly kneels before the man who’s liver had been battered as if punctured by acid. “A izah guy dat Ager megnom iled ah kyled ov. Erphaps oos ain’t ain amaged,” the man repeated the phrases that he told the other men in the crowd through breath that suggested his insides smelt only of fermented grapes. “ The Greeks have left this equine as a peace offering. It is meant to replace the statue of Athena they’ve decimated.” The crowd of men responds with an inconsistent mermer of, “ I knew that’s what he was saying.”

As the victors drudge the pine stallion inside their walls that repelled all attacks the Greek threw will now be the prison of 4000 men, women, and children. As twilight encroached upon the land the noise of praise, feast, dance, and victory filled the coffin. Inside the horse sat the Greeks finest executioners. The 10 year drag left them desperate enough to sit within the humid and damp body of the wooden structure in a ploy to inter the city and break out allowing for a festive slaughter. This disparate act was conjured by the very goddess whom claimed to value the Trojan no more than 12 hours ago.

However atop to mount in the throne room of the great olympians a pitiful scene unfolded. “Father!” Roared Ares whilst clutching his bleeding side as golden droplets fell to the floor, “Can’t you see? That pompous child of a step sister whom I share dominion with has caused a mortal to injure me! By her hand through his, she punctured my flesh! She must be cast down for overstepping your declarations! No god is to have involvement within this war, is that not what you’ve said!” Ares lashed about whilst spitting and hissing these words.

“Correct my adulterine brother,” snarled Athena through her beaked lips, “how strange, you enter the palace exclaiming woes of which you blame me. Yet you’ve overlooked the shortcomings within your plea. For how could you have been injured by a mortal partaking in the war without being a part of it as well, or perhaps you were,” said Athena as a snide smirk etched itself upon her face. “ How dare you! I wouldn’t have had to fight your lousy champion if he hadn’t speared my dears hand as she attempted to save our child-“

“There you go again speaking without thought. You’ve now admitted to your wife having been part of the war too, uxoricide through stupidity-“

“How dare you feathered lout proclaim that I’ve harmed my dearest!” Ares shouted as if it were a war cry.

“Perhaps I could get you to come forth with the names of the rest of your posse. Would save me time having to present evidence,” laughed Athena. Ares stood his armor rattling with a rage encased within his godly flesh. The rage of all the fallen in hades. A rage that if released on a mortal or army would be more devastating than any split atom. He stood there in silence as Aphrodite rushed to him having sensed his peril of which she had never felt before. “ My great boar what ales you! What’ve you done you unrequited orinth,” hissed Aphrodite. “ Why not ask your doltish pig, of whom I’m sadly related.”

One word was spoken. One word with range like thunder. One word which held the force of the greatest storm. One word which was spoken from the one that the trio was annoying, “SILENCE!” Zeus thundered, “Daughter, who might the rest of the guilty be?”

“The children Leto father,” chirped Athena. “Thank you, I’ve heard enough of your insolent bickering. It was giving a headache equivalent to the one that birthed you,” said the now tired and defeated sounding Zeus, “ You all have crossed a line I clearly set. Of which the punishment Ares suggests is fitting until you’ve each proven that you deserve to reside within this palace, as currently I see three pups arguing over the corpse of a rat.” The trio stands there in silence as they accept what will happen to them next. “Hermes!”

“Yeah pops?”

“Inform the twins of Leto of my decree so that they don’t question why they’ve been stripped of divine power.”

“Alrighty,” Hermes exclaims cheerfully, seeing this only for its hilarity. He then zips through the archway leading into Olympus. Following soon after a bright golden light fills the throne room. Once the light fades only Athena remains, “why have you left me father?”

“I expected better from you Athena. You are my most prized offspring, and yet you’ve fallen to the same height as mortals. Perhaps if I gave a visit to your favorite human you’ll understand that we’re not like them.”

“ Father WAI-,” the same light surrounds Athena as she is cast from Olympus to the base of the former Greek camp.

(Now watch Horse and the Infant then just a man)

Odysseus approaches the camp ground he slept at two days ago before tonight, as he heads towards where Eurylochus had landed his ship. As he passes through the charred ground he can’t help but think back to what he’s done. Then suddenly a hand jets towards him. He unsheathes his blade and readies it to strike whoever was foolish enough to sneak up on him. Right before he strikes he sees the face of his mentor. Before he can stop Athena throws him over her shoulder out of reaction. Odysseus now puzzled and with a dirt covered cape asks Athena what she’s doing here. He then realizes that she looks different. Less feathers, and lacking her distinct beaked lips. Also, she’s now missing her giant owl wings. He moves to speak when Athena reaches out for his shoulder. As her hand makes contact he’s shocked to feel its warmth, its weight, its mortality. He shutters as he croaks on his words. Athena explains her situation to him after which Odysseus wraps an arm around her shoulders which are a head taller than him and says, “ You can ride with me and crew back to Ithaca! It’s the only right thing to do when your life long goddess friend is now mortal and now requires the same as me,” he smiles with the dorkish grin he wore when she first met him all those decades ago.

“ I. . . Uh saw what my father had made you do from here, do you wish to speak of it or. . .”

“Nope I’d rather move past that as soon as possible.”

“Alright little man,” she says while staring down at Odysseus who’s 3 feet shorter than she is.

“Aight Atty,” Odysseus says through a smile of a kid annoying his mother.

“I thought you agreed never to say that again,” she says, scowling at him.

“And clearly I’m no little man anymore.”

“Hard to tell from up here,” she says smiling as they approach the bow of Odysseus’ ship.

Odysseus boards the ship followed by the giantess which caused confusion among the men on the ships until Odysseus interjected that she was an Amazonian warrior who he’d been friends with for years now. Eurylochus Examined her, unsure of her presence being Odysseus’ right hand. Polities ran up to Athena grasping her hand and eagerly shaking it, “ I’m so happy to meet you, any friend of my best buddy Odysseus is a friend to me,” polities said with a somehow even more dorkish smile surrounded by the stubble of a beard, as his head band covered his forehead.

POV: how it feels to post 1500 words of a fan story

[lokidips]

Hey bro I know you specialise in Loki stuff (and honestly me too lol) but I saw this post here:

And I thought what about this idea but with like Ant Man?

(Dw if you don't like ant man btw!! I just really do and like talking to you about agere stuff lol)

no it's so cute!! thank you for sharing heheh, i like ant man quite a lot actually, not anyway near my TH obsession but he is a very fun character and paul rudd is so good :D

[fandomstimboards123]

All my stimboards

Don’t forget to drink water

Finals Freakout (a series)

Egon Spengler (ghostbusters)

Egon Spengler (again)

Winston Zeddemore (ghostbusters)

Ray Stantz (ghostbusters)

Ray Stantz (again)

Peter Venkman (ghostbusters)

Janine Melnitz (ghostbusters)

Slimer

Ghostbusters

Agere+Orange

Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Rory Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)

Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls)

Lane Kim (Gilmore Girls)

Sookie St James (Gilmore Girls)

Dean Forester (Gilmore Girls)

Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls)

Luke Danes (Gilmore Girls)

Dean Martin

Frank Sinatra

Thor Odinson (Avengers)

Spider-Man

Peter Parker (Tom Holland)

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)

Candy

Brain go brr

Mork from Ork (Mork and Mindy)

The Dick Van Dyke Show

Corporal Newkirk (Hogan’s Heroes)

Ant man

Hypnos

Hephaestus

Hades

[sillyantsfarm]

WELCOME TO MY BLOG :3

🐛 : call me - ant !

about me: he / they, 6teen yrs, sometimes writer, video game enthusiast, age regressor + bear cub regressor, autistic, i don’t have a cg n if anyone is interested i’m open to having one!

little ages: usually four - ten years old

fandoms: call of duty (mw reboots + ghosts), red dead redemption, the last of us (hbo + game), the walking dead, slashers, five nights at freddy’s, spider-man, mcu, star wars, beetlejuice, impractical jokers, n more!!

what do i do? i write mostly agere and cod because i’m hyper fixated on it rn! i almost make ai bots on poe even though i hate ai :<

status: writing requests are closed and requests for bots on poe are open!

boundaries? please use tone tags when you know your tone might be confusing, dni if you sexualize age regression and basic dni criteria (racist, homophobic..), you can interact if you’re an adult just don’t try and be close friends with me!!

extra: idm yall asking to be friends cause i reaaally wanna make more friends with similar interests! my discord is louist91luvr and my main blog is @toniosbear in case y’all wanna talk or send me friend req! :3

carrd —— about me!

[zmaragdos]

XVII Kalendae Maius | April 15th

After the third sunrise will have lifted up the Ides of Venus, High Priests, sacrifice sacred things with a pregnant cow! A “forda” is a pregnant cow, a fruitful cow, having been so called from “ferendo” (it must be bearing): they think “fetus” to also have an etymology from this. Now the herd is pregnant, and the soils are also pregnant with seed. An complete sacrificial animal is given to the pregnant Earth. Part falls in the Refuge of Jupiter; three times the Senate Hall receives ten cows and, having been sprinkled with much blood, becomes wet. And when the attendants drag a bullcalf from the innards, and they give the body parts, the organs, to the smoking hearths. It is the Virgin Greatest by Age who burns the bullcalf in the fire, so that that ash might cleanse the people on the day of Pales.

During the reign of Numa, with the harvest not responding to labor, the votive offerings of the man, having been cheated of the thing being cultivated, were useless; for just then, the year was dry with the Icy Northeast winds; now the field swells with incessant rain: Ceres was often cheating the landowner with the first green crops, and the the quick common oat weed was standing fast, with the soil having been occupied; and the cattle perform violent births before the due-date, and a lamb, in the necessity of being born, was often killing the sheep.

And long ago the ancient forest was standing, having been violated by no two-edged ax, the sanctuaries having been left for the Maenalian god: he gave answers to a resting spirit in the quiet nights. 

Here King Numa sacrificed twin sheep. The first fell for Faunus, the other fell for Easy Sleep: and either wool-pelt is spread out on the hard ground. Twice his unshorn head is wetted with spring water, twice he covers his temples with a beech garland; his skill of Venus is absent; neither is it lawful to set out the animals of the month on the table, nor to wear any ring belonging to the fingers. His body having been covered with rough clothes lays on top of the new wool-pelts, with the god having been prepared through his own words.

Meanwhile, Night having been crowned with a poppy comes into his gentle brow and She drags dusky dreams with Herself. Faunus is present, pressing the wool-pelts of the sheep with hard feet and He has announced the following words from the right-side of the bed: “By the death of two cows, the Earth must be appeased by you, King: let one heifer present two spirits to the temples.”

Sleep is shaken off with terror: Numa, having understood, returns and with himself he brings the mysterious digression and the things having been commanded. His most beloved wife disengages from her wandering in the pastures, and she says: “You will be desiring the organs of a pregnant cow.” The organs of a pregnant cow are offered, a more fertile year is brought forth and the Earth brings produce and livestock.

—

Tertia post Veneris cum lux surrexerit Idus,

pontifices, forda sacra litate bove.

forda ferens bos est fecundaque, dicta ferendo:

hinc etiam fetus nomen habere putant,

nunc gravidum pecus est, gravidae quoque semine terrae:

Telluri plenae victima plena datur.

pars cadit arce Iovis, ter denas curia vaccas

accipit et largo sparsa cruore madet. 

ast ubi visceribus vitulos rapuere ministri

sectaque fumosis exta dedere focis,

igne cremat vitulos quae natu maxima virgo est,

luce Palis populos purget ut ille cinis,

rege Numa, fructu non respondente labori,

inrita decepti vota colentis erant,

nam modo siccus erat gelidis aquilonibus annus,

nunc ager assidua luxuriabat aqua:

saepe Ceres primis dominum fallebat in herbis,

et levis obsesso stabat avena solo,

et pecus ante diem partus edebat acerbos,

agnaque nascendo saepe necabat ovem.

silva vetus nullaque diu violata securi

stabat, Maenalio sacra relicta deo:

ille dabat tacitis animo responsa quieto

noctibus, hic geminas rex Numa mactat oves.

prima cadit Fauno, leni cadit altera Somno:

sternitur in duro vellus utrumque solo.

bis caput intonsum fontana spargitur unda,

bis sua faginea tempora fronde tegit,

usus abest Veneris, nec fas animalia mensis

ponere, nec digitis anulus ullus inest,

veste rudi tectus supra nova vellera corpus

ponit, adorato per sua verba deo.

interea placidam redimita papavere frontem

nox venit et secum somnia nigra trahit.

Faunus adest, oviumque premens pede vellera duro

edidit a dextro talia verba toro:

‘morte boum tibi, rex, Tellus placanda duarum: 

det sacris animas una iuvenca duas.’

excutitur terrore quies: Numa visa revolvit

et secum ambages caecaque iussa refert,

expedit errantem nemori gratissima coniunx

et dixit ‘gravidae posceris exta bovis.’

exta bovis gravidae dantur, fecundior annus

provenit, et fructum terra pecusque ferunt,

—

P. Ovidius Naso, “Fastorum Libri Sex,” Lib. IV 629-672

translation by@zmaragdos

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

@smackins replied to your post “What’s your favorite Vampire: The Masquerade clan?”

What about Werewolf: The Apocalypse tribe?

"Werewolf: The Apocalypse" – well, there isn't really a Tribe, but we do have, uh, "werewolves" … and "angels" … and "dragons" … "biological warfare" … "a bunch of 'scientists' " … "magic armor" … "singing" … "coitus" … "sex" … "the horns" … "vampires" … "depression" … "nonhuman empathy" … "hives" … "the sun" … "fungal bio-warfare" … "drugs" … "space travel" … "lunar man" … "psychotics" … "autism" … "the Mediterranean" … "the occult" … "fantasy" … "golems" … "cults" … "shapeshifters" … "the 16th-century" … "cowboy" … "space opera" … "Cyberpunk" … "the 1960s" … "vampires" … "autism spectrum" … "vegetarianism" … "Empire of the Ants" … "autism" … "cyclops" … "cyborgs" … "statism" … "new agers" … "hard sci-fi" … "science" … "environmentalism" … "radical environmentalism" … "corporate social responsibility" … "religious fundamentalism" … "eternal winter" … "nerds" … "geek culture" … "mythology" … "neoreaction" … "New Media" … "epic fantasy" … "roguelike video games" … "Ministry of War" … "philosophy" … "doom Metal" … "Space Opera" … "Star Wars" … "Aldous Huxley" … "Sex" … "Oral Tradition" … "Global Thermonuclear War" … "pop culture" … "Star Trek" … "Board Games" … "Magic" … "Science Fiction" … "The Renaissance" … "Science"

[sunboundprometheu]

Hello, @wastelandhistorian, I am your @langblrsecretsanta this year! You said you’re interested in “any ancient language” and in history, so I constructed your gift around two passages about deserts from ancient historians. One passage is from the Roman historian Sallust’s monograph Bellum Jugurthinum (The Jugurthine War), which describes a war between Rome and King Jugurtha of Numidia in North Africa; the other is from the Greek historian Herodotus and describes implausibly large ants in the north of India. I’ve translated each passage and then made a short vocabulary list with desert-related terms. I hope you enjoy this gift!

Sed quoniam in eas regiones per Leptitanorum negotia venimus, non indignum videtur egregium atque mirabile facinus duorum Carthaginiensium memorare; eam rem nos locus admonuit. Qua tempestate Carthaginienses pleraque Africa imperitabant, Cyrenenses quoque magni atque opulenti fuere. Ager in medio harenosus, una specie; neque flumen neque mons erat, qui finis eorum discerneret. Quae res eos in magno diuturnoque bello inter se habuit. Postquam utrimque legiones, item classes saepe fusae fugataeque et alteri alteros aliquantum attriueret. veriti, ne mox victos victoresque defessos alius aggrederetur, per indutias sponsionem faciunt, uti certo die legati domo proficiscerentur: quo in loco inter se obvii fuissent, is communis utriusque populi finis haberetur. Igitur Carthagine duo fratres missi, quibus nomen Philaenis erat, maturauere iter pergere, Cyrenenses tardius iere. Id socordiane an casu acciderit, parum cognovi. Ceterum solet in illis locis tempestas haud secus atque in mari retinere. Nam ubi per loca aequalia et nuda gignentium ventus coortus harenam humo excitauit, ea magna vi agitata ora oculosque implere solet: ita prospectu impedito morari iter. Postquam Cyrenenses aliquanto posteriores se esse vident et ob rem corruptam domi poenas metuont, criminari Carthaginiensis ante tempus domo digressos, conturbare rem, denique omnia malle quam victi abire. Sed cum Poeni aliam condicionem, tantummodo aequam, peterent, Graeci optionem Carthaginiensium faciunt, ut vel illi, quos finis populo suo peterent, ibi viui obruerentur, vel eadem condicione sese quem in locum vellent processuros. Philaeni condicione probata seque vitamque suam rei publicae condonauere: ita viui obruti. Carthaginienses in eo loco Philaenis fratribus aras consecrauere, aliique illis domi honores instituti. Nunc ad rem redeo. (Sallust, Bellum Jugurthinum 79)

--

But since I have come to talk about this region because of the affairs of the Leptitans, it does not seem inappropriate to recall a famous, incredible deed done by two Carthaginians; the place has suggested this matter to me. During the period when the Carthaginians' empire extended over most of Africa, the Cyrenians were also powerful and rich. Between them was a sandy, featureless field, with neither rivers nor mountains to demarcate their borders. This fact kept them in a great and protracted war with each other; both sides' armies and navies often conquered, often were routed, and each country had inflicted great losses on the other. Fearing that a third party would attack when the near-victors and nearly defeated were exhausted, they entered into a peace agreement stipulating that on a certain day deputies would leave home and that the place where they met would be considered the border between the two peoples. So two brothers named Philaeni were sent from Carthage and moved with haste along their way. The Cyrenians moved more slowly. Whether this happened due to laziness or chance, I don't really know. In any case, in these areas, storms not unlike those at sea tend to inhibit travel, since when wind blows throughout flat and barren places and then lifts sand from the ground, that sand, whipped up by a powerful force, tends to fill one's face and eyes: and so, with one's vision impeded, travel becomes delayed. After the Cyrenians saw that they were somewhat behind and became afraid of being punished at home for their mistake, they accused the Carthaginians of leaving early and confused the matter, preferring anything over leaving as the losers. But when the Phonecians sought another deal (as long as it would be fair), the Greeks let the Carthaginians choose between either those brothers being buried alive at the border they wanted for their people or going themselves on the same condition to whatever place they wanted. The Philaeni accepted the deal and sacrificed themselves and their lives to their country: so they were buried alive. The Carthaginians consecrated temples at that place to the brothers, and other honors were established for them at home. Now I will return to my topic.

harena, -ae, f. sand

harenosus, -a, -um sandy

ager, -gri, m. field

flumen, -inis, n. river

mons, -tis, m. mountain

tempestas, -atis, f. storm, time

aequalis, -e equal, level

nudus, -a, -um nude, barren

gignentia, -um, n. plants

ventus, -i, m. wind

humus, -i, f. ground

ἄλλοι δὲ τῶν Ἰνδῶν Κασπατύρῳ τε πόλι καὶ τῇ Πακτυϊκῇ χώρῃ εἰσὶ πρόσουροι, πρὸς ἄρκτου τε καὶ βορέω ἀνέμου κατοικημένοι τῶν ἄλλων Ἰνδῶν, οἳ Βακτρίοισι παραπλησίην ἔχουσι δίαιταν. οὗτοι καὶ μαχιμώτατοι εἰσὶ Ἰνδῶν καὶ οἱ ἐπὶ τὸν χρυσὸν στελλόμενοι εἰσὶ οὗτοι: κατὰ γὰρ τοῦτο ἐστὶ ἐρημίη διὰ τὴν ψάμμον. ἐν δὴ ὦν τῇ ἐρημίῃ ταύτῃ καὶ τῇ ψάμμῳ γίνονται μύρμηκες μεγάθεα ἔχοντες κυνῶν μὲν ἐλάσσονα ἀλωπέκων δὲ μέζονα: εἰσὶ γὰρ αὐτῶν καὶ παρὰ βασιλέι τῷ Περσέων ἐνθεῦτεν θηρευθέντες. οὗτοι ὦν οἱ μύρμηκες ποιεύμενοι οἴκησιν ὑπὸ γῆν ἀναφορέουσι τὴν ψάμμον κατά περ οἱ ἐν τοῖσι Ἕλλησι μύρμηκες κατὰ τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον, εἰσὶ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ τὸ εἶδος ὁμοιότατοι: ἡ δὲ ψάμμος ἡ ἀναφερομένη ἐστὶ χρυσῖτις. ἐπὶ δὴ ταύτην τὴν ψάμμον στέλλονται ἐς τὴν ἔρημον οἱ Ἰνδοί, ζευξάμενος ἕκαστος καμήλους τρεῖς, σειρηφόρον μὲν ἑκατέρωθεν ἔρσενα παρέλκειν, θήλεαν δὲ ἐς μέσον: ἐπὶ ταύτην δὴ αὐτὸς ἀναβαίνει, ἐπιτηδεύσας ὅκως ἀπὸ τέκνων ὡς νεωτάτων ἀποσπάσας ζεύξει. αἱ γάρ σφι κάμηλοι ἵππων οὐκ ἥσσονες ἐς ταχυτῆτα εἰσί, χωρὶς δὲ ἄχθεα δυνατώτεραι πολλὸν φέρειν.

τὸ μὲν δὴ εἶδος ὁκοῖόν τι ἔχει ἡ κάμηλος, ἐπισταμένοισι τοῖσι Ἕλλησι οὐ συγγράφω: τὸ δὲ μὴ ἐπιστέαται αὐτῆς, τοῦτο φράσω: κάμηλος ἐν τοῖσι ὀπισθίοισι σκέλεσι ἔχει τέσσερας μηροὺς καὶ γούνατα τέσσερα, τά τε αἰδοῖα διὰ τῶν ὀπισθίων σκελέων πρὸς τὴν οὐρὴν τετραμμένα. οἱ δὲ δὴ Ἰνδοὶ τρόπῳ τοιούτῳ καὶ ζεύξι τοιαύτῃ χρεώμενοι ἐλαύνουσι ἐπὶ τὸν χρυσὸν λελογισμένως ὅκως καυμάτων τῶν θερμοτάτων ἐόντων ἔσονται ἐν τῇ ἁρπαγῇ: ὑπὸ γὰρ τοῦ καύματος οἱ μύρμηκες ἀφανέες γίνονται ὑπὸ γῆν. θερμότατος δὲ ἐστὶ ὁ ἥλιος τούτοισι τοῖσι ἀνθρώποισι τὸ ἑωθινόν, οὐ κατά περ τοῖσι ἄλλοισι μεσαμβρίης, ἀλλ᾽ ὑπερτείλας μέχρι οὗ ἀγορῆς διαλύσιος. τοῦτον δὲ τὸν χρόνον καίει πολλῷ μᾶλλον ἢ τῇ μεσαμβρίῃ τὴν Ἑλλάδα, οὕτω ὥστ᾽ ἐν ὕδατι λόγος αὐτούς ἐστι βρέχεσθαι τηνικαῦτα. μεσοῦσα δὲ ἡ ἡμέρη σχεδὸν παραπλησίως καίει τούς τε ἄλλους ἀνθρώπους καὶ τοὺς Ἰνδούς. ἀποκλινομένης δὲ τῆς μεσαμβρίης γίνεταί σφι ὁ ἥλιος κατά περ τοῖσι ἄλλοισι ὁ ἑωθινός, καὶ τὸ ἀπὸ τούτου ἀπιὼν ἐπὶ μᾶλλον ψύχει, ἐς ὃ ἐπὶ δυσμῇσι ἐὼν καὶ τὸ κάρτα ψύχει.

ἐπεὰν δὲ ἔλθωσι ἐς τὸν χῶρον οἱ Ἰνδοὶ ἔχοντες θυλάκια, ἐμπλήσαντες ταῦτα τῆς ψάμμου τὴν ταχίστην ἐλαύνουσι ὀπίσω: αὐτίκα γὰρ οἱ μύρμηκες ὀδμῇ, ὡς δὴ λέγεται ὑπὸ Περσέων, μαθόντες διώκουσι. εἶναι δὲ ταχυτῆτα οὐδενὶ ἑτέρῳ ὅμοιον, οὕτω ὥστε, εἰ μὴ προλαμβάνειν τοὺς Ἰνδοὺς τῆς ὁδοῦ ἐν ᾧ τοὺς μύρμηκας συλλέγεσθαι, οὐδένα ἂν σφέων ἀποσώζεσθαι. τοὺς μέν νυν ἔρσενας τῶν καμήλων, εἶναι γὰρ ἥσσονας θέειν τῶν θηλέων, παραλύεσθαι ἐπελκομένους, οὐκ ὁμοῦ ἀμφοτέρους: τὰς δὲ θηλέας ἀναμιμνησκομένας τῶν ἔλιπον τέκνων ἐνδιδ��ναι μαλακὸν οὐδέν. τὸν μὲν δὴ πλέω τοῦ χρυσοῦ οὕτω οἱ Ἰνδοὶ κτῶνται, ὡς Πέρσαι φασί: ἄλλος δὲ σπανιώτερος ἐστι ἐν τῇ χώρῃ ὀρυσσόμενος. (Herodotus 3.102-105)

--

Other Indians live in the city of Caspatyrus, bordering on the Pactyic country, having settled farther toward the north than the other Indians; they have a lifestyle similar to the Bactrians'. They are the most warlike Indians, and they made expeditions for gold, because this region is desolate throughout due to its sand. In this desert and its sands, there live ants smaller than dogs but larger than foxes; some of them have been hunted for the King of Persia. These ants make their shelters underground by digging up sand in the same way as ants in Greece, and they are very similar in shape to those ants: but the sand they dig up contains gold. The Indians travel to this desert precisely for that sand: each man yokes together three camels, a male on either side to draw by the trace, and a female in the middle. The female is mounted, having been deliberately separated from her offspring at the earliest time possible. These camels are no slower than horses and moreover are more capable of bearing significant burdens.

I will not describe how camels look, because Greeks already know; but I will mention this, which is not known about them: in its back legs, a camel has four thighs and three knees, and its genitals are turned toward the tail between the back legs. The Indians, in this way and with this manner of yoking, ride out to plunder the gold when, according to their calculations, the heat will be at its greatest and the ants are therefore hiding underground from the heat. (The sun is hottest in these people's land in the morning, not at midday as is the case elsewhere, but from sunrise until the markets close. At this time, it is so much hotter than at noon in Greece that supposedly people drench themselves then; at midday, the day is just about as hot in India as elsewhere; and the sun after high noon becomes like it is in the morning in other places, then becomes rather cold as it sets, until at sunset it is very cold.)

Now, when the Indians reach this region, they fill the little sacks they carry with the sand and ride back as quickly as possible, because once the ants perceive their scent, they chase the men (so the Persians say). Supposedly, the ants' speed is so singular that, unless the Indians have a headstart while the ants are gathering, none of them will escape. Then they unharness the male camels as they lag behind, because the males run more slowly than the females, one at a time; but the females, remembering the offspring they have left behind, do not give in at all. This is how the Indians acquire the majority of their gold, according to the Persians; the rest is mined in their country but is more scarce.

ψάμμος, -ου, ἡ sand

ἔρημος, -ον desolate

ἐρημία, -��ς, ἡ desert, wasteland

μύρμηξ, -ηκος, ὁ ant

γῆ, γῆς, ἡ earth

κάμηλος, -ου, ὁ/ἡ camel

θερμός, -ή, -όν hot

καίω, καύσω, ἔκαυσα, κέκαυκα, κέκαυμαι, ἐκαύθην burn, kindle

καῦμα, -ατος, τό burning heat

ἥλιος, -ου, ὁ sun

Happy holidays!

[momocon]

MomoCon is happy to bring crafters, prop makers, costume creators, and so much more to the 2020 event! Many more craftspeople are also coming soon! Downen Creative Studios is a passionate cosplay educator, obsessed with creating multimedia content and tutorials to help cosplayers create next level costumes and props. In 2018 she founded SheProp!, and is the host and producer for the ShePropTalk podcast. In addition to high-quality screen accurate builds, she worked with Marvel Studios to create a replica of the Wasp costume from “Ant-Man and the Wasp“ for the “Marvel Becoming” video series. She has been interviewed twice on Adam Savage’s “Tested”, and she is a product ambassador for Plaid Crafts and Thibra. She created the “Cricut for Cosplay” video tutorial series, and has been published in Cohaku and Cos Culture Magazine. Dustin Fletcher, FlashFletch Cosplay, is a cosplayer who enjoys doing crazy make ups and builds, as well as doing charity work for Heroes Alliance. When not cosplaying he is a Set Costumer and Ager/Dyer for film and television focusing on the superhero and horror genres. As well as the Co-DM of D4, a 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons actual play live streaming show. His credits include Avengers: Infinity War, Captain America: Civil War, Constantine, Goosebumps 1 and 2, Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Powers, The Walking Dead, Venom, Black Lightning and More. Photo by: ALeeStudios Casey Renee Cosplay is an award winning cosplayer focused in sewing. She won Twitchcon Cosplay Contest in 2018 and had the honor of judging the Twitchcon Cosplay Contest in 2019. Casey is incredibly passionate about cosplay craftsmanship, Disney, historical costuming and creating educational content.She loves sharing her experience with others and help the cosplay community as a whole learn new things and celebrate craftsmanship. Photo by Alexandra Lee Studios.

[sweetstrawberrykissesao3]

Can I please request toddler/year old agere Bruce being shy and sweet? Maybe he has a new caregiver? Thank you very much in advance and it’s perfectly ok if you rather not do this

Warning, Bruce was abused by his dad (Using the comic book canon backstory) and I make references to it, nothing graphic

This is my first time really writing Bruce or Ant Man, but I thought these two would make a good lil family https://archiveofourown.org/works/18568153/chapters/46921633

I really liked how it came out and if I write more avengers regression work (or possible a littleverse story with more characters) I think I’ll def use Ant Man as Bruce’s primary caregiver over Black Willow, I think it’s kind of cute! I hope you enjoy it!

[kurtismcilroy]

Does anyone have any age regressed Ant Man headcanons? I am deprived 😭🙏

If you do, feel free to leave them as a reblog or in the comments :)

[treago]

A SUMMARY OF WHAT HAPPENS IN EARTHBOUND BY YA BOI TREAGO

your neighbor who is a fucking annoying asshole bothers the police to try and see a meteor

a telepathic bug from the future will emerge from the meteor.

an alien will attack you and potentially wreck your shit if not for the bug

your mom kills the bug, and he tells you with his dying breath to go to 8 special places

a man called “Lier X. Agerate” destroys his own home and digs into the earths crusts and finds a golden statue

You assault a local gang and their steam robot

You fight an enormous ant so you can listen to music

You fight the police force to get them to remove a roadblock

Fight a local insane man in a park

You pay a cool looking kid to rip you off

you pay this fat kid that lives with rats to invent cell phones and the ability to erase pencils from this plane of existence

You encounter and subsequently destroy a cult that now has possession of that gold statue from earlier to recuse a psychic girl

You fight a giant mole to listen to more music

same local insane man in the park gives you ten thousand dollars. you give a local band thats in debt ten thousand dollars so you can ride a tour bus through a tunnel full of ghosts

You see a town full of zombies and decide that staying at the hotel would be a great idea, and so are thrown into a pit in a cemetery.  Your psychic friend contacts a nerd in boarding school telepathically

Nerd gives bubblegum to a monkey.  Monkey leads you to the lochness monster

Nerds father who abandoned him 10 years ago gives him a space ship, so he can crash into the pit in the cemetery and lock pick a door.

Fat kid invents zombie paper which is like fly paper for zombies. You put it in a circus tent and enjoy your life

You encounter friendly aliens.  One of them will tell you the password to an enemy base is 3 minutes of silence.  You go behind a waterfall and do nothing for 3 minutes to fight sludge

You trip balls in a hot springs with an alien while drinking coffee

You take a bus to the city.  It breaks down in the desert.  You walk the rest of the way to the city.

The same band gets indebted to another theater.

You go to the desert near a mining dig. You fight the 3rd strongest mole, the 3rd strongest mole, the 3rd strongest mole, the 3rd strongest mole and the 3rd strongest mole.  A construction worker gives you a diamond for the trouble. You pay off the debt with said diamond.

A haunted mall abducts your psychic girlfriend. 

Local insane man visits the city to find golden statue and fucking dies writes a haiku and tells you go insane

You decided going insane is a pretty great idea and go to an alternate dimension.

In the alternate dimension you square up with the golden statue.  You destroy it and discover your been dissociating in a warehouse.  

Your neighbor somehow becomes a business person in this city

Fat kid makes trout flavored yogurt dispenser.  The delivery guy just gives it to a random person in the desert.  A maid mentions her boss would love a yogurt dispenser

You then give a bunch of monkeys pizza, hamburgers, sandwiches, eggs, towels, rulers. A guy in a turban gives you your shit back.

A monkey teaches you how to run to other towns at the speed of not having to deal with the bullshit teleport

You enter the business mans building an destroy his security robots because the maid forgot to tell you a password.

You talk to the businessman and discover he was possessed by the statue from early.  He returns your friend. 

Your neighbor fucking pisses off in a helicopter says he doesnt need the businessman anymore.

You fight a mushroom near stonehenge to listen to music

You eat cake and have a bad trip.

Now controlling a prince, you meditate so hard your consciousness rips your arms, legs, ears, eyes away from you.  You’re now officially a psychic prince.  Also none of that happened.  He teleports to the rest of the group.

You visit a theater and get an autograph on a banana.  You give the banana to a guard to go into a sewers and kill a rat.  You listen to some music near a weird sculpture

You go to the princes home together and fight the avatar of storm and thunder.  You listen to music on a pink cloud.

You go to another desert, walk through a pyramid.  The prince gets bored and fucks off to learn how to summon meteors.

A man in a giant rock robot gives you his submarine so you can access a a swamp.  More sentient sludge will try to attack you.  Prince will come back and beat the shit out of it with meteors.

You meet more aliens.  The fat kid and nerds dad gives you the ability to erase erasers from existence back at stonehenge 

You discover a secret alien base in stonehenge that has abducted people.  You kill these aliens.  They are the ones your bug friend protected you from early on.

Fat kid donates a book about overcoming shyness to a library.  You give it to an alien. He directs you to a sentient rock.  The sentient rock directs you to a different alien, but that is evil.  You listen to music and get a message from yourself about yourself and your unease.

You are dropped into a world where everything is gigantic.  You get near a cave of lava and fight a dog made out of carbon.  you listen to music.

You retreat into your own psyche.  At the heart you discover the golden statue is a reflection of yourself.  You destroy it and wake up

You upload your consciousness into robots, dying and being reborn in the process, and then go to the future to fight the expression of evil.

Your fucking neighbor is there being an asshole in a robot, along with your flesh body stuck in a machine.

The evil cannot be defeated, so your characters pray help from:

aliens, the indebted band, the psychic girls parents, the boarding school, the princes town, the local gang leader, your family

You are swallowed by darkness

There is one last prayer is the final bit of support is YOU!  the player holding the controller.  

The kids die and their spriits float away

its okay they get back to their flesh bodies i guess

[imaginationstimulation]

He cupped the two halves of my tush and spoke directly to them. “Run away with me, girls,” he whispered. “She doesn’t understand our love.”

I lay still, staring out the window, letting them have their time together. If I protested, I’d only make his case stronger: I’m less fun than my own butt. Which is not untrue. In my essence, I am a stone, unmoving for ten thousand years, unless picked up and moved. It’s not just sex; I find this whole experience—life—gratuitously slow and drawn out. See it crawl, second by fucking second. If I’m a workaholic, it’s only because I hate work so much that I’m trying to finish it, all of it, once and for all. So I can just ride out the rest of my life in some kind of internal trance state. Not a coma but, like, a step above that.

Our son, Sam, trotted in sleepily, and I warned him not to get in the bed: “It’s all bloody.” Alex quietly removed his hands from my body; he hadn’t noticed that I was bleeding. Sam pulled back the sheets and studied the mess, smiling giddily. “You got your period.”

“Yes.”

“You said it was coming soon and you were right!”

“Yep.”

This new generation of men has been taught (by me) to feel excited about the menstrual cycle. It’s like tadpoles turning into frogs or the moon that follows them wherever they go. I’ve been waiting a long time to have my period cheered on. More and more women my age have given up on our men and are getting together with millennials, youngsters raised by women who were born in the sixties, rather than the forties. I hear it’s great. Not a lot of hangups. But that isn’t an option for me because I need a man with a historical perspective that encompasses my whole lifetime. If anything, I regret not having met Alex sooner. If we had met at my birth and I had been able to assess how narcissistic my parents were, I could have left the hospital with Alex and got started on our relationship immediately. He would have been eight years old—young, but not too young to keep me alive. I need that in a man.

Sometimes my love for him is so intense that I want to crawl inside his body. I want him to be pregnant with me and never give birth, just hold me in. At other times, I wonder, Who is that guy? And why is he in my house? When I get that look on my face, he sticks out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Alex. Your husband.”

Sam used his small pointing finger to tap each old bloodstain on the sheet; they dated back more than a decade, a disgusting constellation. It was one of those things you didn’t notice until suddenly you did. Like ants. Like everything.

I dressed and brushed my teeth. If I went to the mall immediately and got a new sheet, then the chore wouldn’t have time to gather weight. Once a task goes on the to-do list it settles in, grows roots—the trick is to preëmpt that. I could get a tent light while I was there. We were going camping the next weekend with another family, although unfortunately I wasn’t sure I would be able to join. Too much work to do.

“I can get new sheets,” Alex said, slowly climbing out of bed, limb by limb. Sam asked if we would be watching TV today, yes or no.

“Not sheets—just one fitted sheet. There’s only one place that sells Cariloha-brand California-king sheets individually. What is it?”

“Macy’s?”

“Nope.”

“Amazon?”

“Definitely no. I told you about my bad experience—”

“You did. I forgot.”

Bedding is an unregulated corner of Amazon, where companies charge radically different prices for the same bad sheets. You can’t even get nicer sheets by paying more—money has no meaning there. And don’t bother typing in words like “Egyptian cotton” or “thread count”—you’re just offering them more precise ways to bamboozle you. Get up, find your keys and your purse, and go outside. I hate it as much as anyone, but sometimes you just have to.

My plan was to park on the street and walk into the mall, get the sheet, and go. By not parking in the parking garage, I would outwit the psychology of the mall designers who wanted you to sever ties with the outside world. But walking in off the street was disorienting. I entered through Bloomingdale’s and had to wade through the store; it was like pushing through coats to enter Narnia. Once I made it into the mall, I had no idea where I was. It took me a long time even to find a map, then I traced my finger back and forth between You Are Here and the Low Cost Luxury Sheets Kiosk to memorize my path. The man standing next to me took a picture of the map and then trekked on, studying his phone. Pretty clever. As I walked, I glanced sideways at his tan, brawny body and floppy brown hair, just to confirm. Yes. He was a famous person. An actor. Or maybe a hotelier. Maybe this was André Balazs or whatever his name was. No, an actor. Electricity revved through my veins for no particular reason, just as a courtesy to his stature. I kept an eye on him as I walked toward the sheet kiosk, bracing myself for the moment when he would peel off in another direction. But he didn’t; we continued walking alongside each other, and I began to feel that we were together. And he kept looking at me, out of the corner of his eye. This couldn’t be true but it was. Somewhere between BabyGap and Lady Foot Locker the tables had turned. Now he recognized me.

I was twenty-two when the video was shot. I needed quick money so I could get out of a bad relationship—not a lot, just first and last and a security deposit. I couldn’t admit my plight to my parents, because I had already done this and they had written me a check, with great relief, and that was what my quasi-abusive boyfriend and I had been living off for the past six months. He had come up with the ploy.

“Make it sound bad but not too bad. Don’t say I hit you. Say I threw a chair at you or something.”

“You did throw a chair at me.”

“Obviously I wasn’t fully serious when I did that.”

I felt obligated to stay until my parents’ money ran out, since asking for it had been his idea. Then he punched not my face but the wall right next to my face and I had to move very quickly from terror to concern and rush him to the emergency room, where a young, temporary doctor said that we could either wait four hours for the real doctor to arrive and fix the bone in my boyfriend’s hand or let him “have a go.” The temporary doctor high-fived me after he’d popped the bone back in.

The next morning, I woke up early and walked down to the cluster of newspaper boxes in front of the old people’s bar, and discreetly pulled out the sex-themed paper. I’d always known that this option would be there for me if I really needed it. Just as my parents were there if I really needed them, except for this one time.

I chose the job that seemed to offer the most money for a one-time deal. I thought that they would shoot it in a hotel but it happened in an apartment, on an old couch. I wasn’t directed so much as given a series of props to make my way through, like an obstacle course. A turquoise Teddy bear, a pillow, an empty beer bottle, a metal bowl. Not everything was clear to me (the bowl), but I was too nervous to speak; I just laughed again and again to demonstrate consent. My biggest fear was that one of these men, the man with the lights or the cameraman, would misinterpret my nervousness and halt everything, shutting down the set on the ground that I was being objectified against my will. At that age, I assumed that everyone, deep down, was a feminist. So one had to be careful not to trigger feminism where one didn’t want it.

I was waiting for a costume, something black and sexy or pink and trashy that would help catapult me out of myself. Instead, a man with a baseball cap, who was maybe the director, just said, “O.K., we’re rolling.” I was in shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. I looked down at my shirt. It was from a sushi restaurant in my home town, but if you just glanced at it you might think it was racist, because of the fake Asian lettering. I imagined thousands of viewers waiting for this racist girl to get herself off. I quickly undressed and made a scissors gesture to the camera to indicate that this first part, the part with the racist shirt, should be cut. No one acknowledged this suggestion, so I rubbed against the Teddy bear, and rode the big pillow. I held the bowl, uncertain, and then set it aside. I put the beer bottle into my vagina. With all this moving around, it was impossible to become even slightly turned on—back then I had to shut my eyes and make my body completely stiff to generate any feeling. But no one said anything until after I had heaved my last fake orgasmic sigh.

“O.K., we got that,” a woman with a clipboard said. The man in the baseball cap gave me a firm nod, like a satisfied coach. I understood then that the five-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fee was not the price of my beauty or my sex appeal; it was my naïveté that I’d sold. Every person, no matter how plain, has one great erotic performance in her—the one in which she doesn’t know what she’s doing and is desperately trying to save her life. A second performance would be a copy of the first, which would require skills I didn’t have.

My face wasn’t anywhere you could see it unless you entered a credit-card number and clicked past dozens of professionals—“college beauties,” “hot Korean girl,” and so on. But a few people made it through the gauntlet. The first time I was recognized was at a healthy-Mexican restaurant; a pale man in gym clothes stared at me for a long time before making a scissors gesture in the air. It was electrifying, as if all my clothes had fallen off at once. I looked away but there was no denying our intimacy; he’d come while watching me. The next one was a father with his family; he scissored his fingers down low, surreptitiously. The last was a butch lesbian teen-ager; she just walked right up to me and asked. Each time, I’d hurry home and enter my credit-card number, clicking quickly past the college beauties and the hot Korean girl. Though I’d felt nothing at the time, seeing myself through these people’s eyes was profound and overwhelming. I’d cry out with abandon; my body would shake and shiver as I came. Then I’d sleep, immediately, for at least two hours.

The video shoot became the central sexual experience of my life; to this day, I can’t orgasm unless I imagine that I’m the pale man, the dad, or the young lesbian watching it, sometimes all of them together, crowded around one computer screen. I’m them, I’m me, I’m them, I’m me, I come. I showed it to each boyfriend I had after that, to blow their minds but also to explain my sexual orientation; I was oriented around myself in that video and anyone who’d seen it. There was only one boyfriend I didn’t tell. He was a very classy man, emotionally speaking, and I didn’t want to give him any indication of basket-casery. After I married him, I kept meaning to bring it up, to draw him into the fold of my sexuality, such as it was. But I waited too long; we were so close now. And after the butch lesbian there was a lull, a seventeen-year lull, in which no one recognized me.

I arrived at the Luxury Sheets Kiosk and the brawny man with floppy brown hair idled a few feet away, trying to decide what to do. The scissoring gesture didn’t seem to occur to him. I ran my hand over the sheets while the cashier rang up a tall woman who kept adding one more thing. His eyes met mine, and I gave him a secret little smile. Truth is, I wanted to collapse with relief. Though a lot had happened in the past seventeen years—marriage, a child, my career—it was suddenly clear to me that I’d only been going through the motions, an exhausting simulation. I wasn’t a stone. I was one of life’s biggest fans, the best example of a living thing. The amateur sex video was like a seed I had planted in my youth; it would always sustain me. Not financially but by sending me these messengers when I was most in need. My blood moved around in my body; I felt the purpose of every muscle. I was ready to dance. And just then a beat began, so I rocked my hips and pressed my wrists together, swinging them like a girl in bondage who nonetheless wanted to party. The beat ended abruptly; it was the tall woman’s ringtone.

“Hello?” she answered impatiently; she had enough going on with all these sheets. I couldn’t believe I’d danced to her ringtone. Maybe it was O.K. Who knows? Who can really see themselves? He was approaching. He was nearly beside me, his face open with surprise. I opened myself, too.

“You’re my neighbor,” he said.

“In what sense?” I said, my eyes twinkling.

“Well, in the sense that I live in the house next door to yours.”

“The house on the corner?”

“Yeah, it’s a duplex. We live in the apartment that faces Amador Street.”

“Oh. Do you park on Amador?” I was bringing up parking just to hurt myself. I hated this conversation.

“I park on Amador and my wife parks in the garage,” he said. “Although lately we’ve been trying to ride our scooters more. I’m Joel.”

I thought about bringing up my husband, tit for tat, but I was too tired. The previous few seconds had taken everything out of me. We parted, saying that we would definitely see each other soon, ha-ha.

I drove the long way around the block to avoid Amador Street on my way home. I parked and turned off the car. It was hot but I left my seat belt on, folded my hands in my lap, and took some slow breaths. Before Joel, I had still believed I could be recognized. Now I knew I was too old. How do you mourn that kind of loss? It just pulls your whole life down. My phone rang: Alex.

“Are you home?”

“Yes. I’m in the driveway.”

“Yeah, we heard you drive up. You coming in?”

“In a sec. I need to pour my heart out to someone so I can be empty and unburdened when I come inside.”

I waited for him to say, “You can pour your heart out to me,” but he was quiet and we got off the phone. He never takes the bait. Which is good. It teaches me to be more direct in asking for what I need. Or does it? So far it hadn’t.

We’d been tunnelling toward each other for years. It was hard work, but the assumption was that eventually our two tunnels would connect. We’d break through—Hallelujah! Clay-encrusted hands finally seizing each other!—and we would be together, really together, for the remaining time that we were alive. So long as we both dug as hard and as fast as we could, everything would work out. But, of course, neither of us knew for sure how the other person’s digging was going. One of us might have been doggedly tunnelling toward the other person, while the other person was curling away in another direction. That person might not even have been aware of how off course he or she was. One of us might have tunnelled straight down for a few weeks, in anger, and then tried to get back on track, but now honestly had no idea where to go. We might break through—Hallelujah!—only to find that we were seizing the dirty hands of a stranger. What to do then? Or we might simply get tired, and stop digging, decide that here was good enough. All the while saying things like “We must be getting close!” and “I can’t wait until the day finally comes!” We might never meet up at all; we might die before it happened. Or worse: maybe there had never been any hope of our meeting up, because what was that even a metaphor for? Oneness? A child’s dream of love? I got out of the car and went inside, carrying the new fitted sheet and the tent light.

The next weekend, I was unfortunately not able to go on the camping trip. I stood in the driveway and waved goodbye to Alex and Sam, tearful for no reason. Then I went inside and walked around the house, room by room, looking at all our stuff through the judgmental eyes of a monk or a nun. I did my work, very slowly, over the course of the day. At 8 p.m. I started watching TV and at 2 a.m. I turned out the light. Then the earthquake happened.

I flew out of bed and moved down the hallway like a person on a wobbly rope bridge. I lurched out the back door and along the side of the house to the sidewalk. The shaking stopped. The street lights were off, no moon. Car alarms were beeping in syncopation. A huge branch was draped across my car. Someone was standing on the corner, waving. It was Joel. I had successfully avoided interaction all week. Now I ran to him through the dark.

“I didn’t get my shoes!” I yelled dumbly, as the pavement trembled again.

Joel thought it was safest to stay outside; I thought so, too—less stuff to be trapped under if it fell. He called his wife, who was in Sun Valley, Idaho. I didn’t call Alex, since I was safe and a middle-of-the-night call is always alarming. Joel’s earthquake-survival kit was more elaborate than ours; we spread out high-tech blankets and pillows on the lawn on his side of the duplex and lay down, waiting for dawn.

Once the car alarms had been silenced, the night was strangely quiet. The freeways were almost empty. Without the lights or the hum of cars, the sky took its place as the foremost thing. Joel and I stared up at it—an enormous gray arena we could fly around in just by lying there.

“Looking at the sky should be a ride at Disneyland,” Joel said.

This was such an accurate way to describe it. I thought about the accuracy for two or three minutes and then said, “Yeah.” We squinted at our houses in the dark and saw that they were leaning; they had shifted. I thought we’d probably move, rather than repair ours; Joel’s was a rental, so he said they’d move for sure. Maybe to Ireland. I said we’d probably move to Ireland, too. The chances seemed high that we would be neighbors again, in Ireland. We scooted toward each other, for warmth, and when I turned on my side Joel spooned me, very innocently. All bodies were good, I realized. Joel’s stocky form beside me was unfamiliar, but good. Hugging. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Hugging was so moving, so basic. Why had I ever taken pride in not being a “hugger”? Two people embracing was the very building block of life.

“Hugging is the building block of life,” I whispered. Joel was quiet and this was exactly right; more words would just take away. I pressed my hand against the lawn, palming the whole earth like a gigantic basketball. Warm tears ran into the hair at my temple, one after another after another. Hello, stranger, I thought. And by “stranger” I meant not Joel but myself. My blood moved around in my body. I felt the purpose of every muscle. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen the video.

When I awoke, it was light out and I was lying with the next-door neighbor on his lawn. I could tell right away that our houses were fine. It took only fifteen minutes to straighten up the books and the dishes that had fallen. The earthquake had been big, but no one was saying that it was “the big one.” When Alex and Sam got home, I told a story about hiding under the dining-room table. Our earthquake, the one that Joel and I had survived, was private. I friended him on Facebook the next day and we started e-mailing. Mostly we wrote about details from that night—the silence, the sky, how time had seemed to stretch out. I didn’t have any specific or adulterous plans; I was just wholly open. I saw us going on a road trip. Or maybe taking ayahuasca and throwing up in buckets. His penis was moving in and out of me most of the time. Sometimes I made it very small, like a finger, so that it wouldn’t distract me too much as I worked or emptied the dishwasher. Just a little thrusting tick-tock that drowned out the real sound of time: 7 a.m., 4 p.m., 6 p.m., the most brutal of time’s representatives, but hardly the whole battalion.

I was waiting for Joel’s response to my last e-mail when Alex and I stumbled on him, almost literally. We were coming home from a date night; Joel and his wife were lying on their lawn, staring up at the evening sky. They’d brought out the same pillows and blankets, and a bottle of wine. It was adorable in a way that people like us find cloying, so Alex raised his eyebrows at me before calling out to them.

“Sorry! We usually park farther up but the trash cans are out.”

“No, no,” Joel said, rising to his feet. “We’re good.” He swept his hand toward their reënactment. “It’s a lot more fun without all the shaking!” His wife raised her glass toward me and smiled; she knew the whole story. Alex nodded, cocking his head curiously in my direction. I stared at the familiar blue geometric pattern of the pillowcases. Joel had taken the exquisite energy of our experience and plowed it back into his marriage. How wise. This option had never occurred to me. I had always detonated each thing in the very place where I found it.

Even after I acknowledged that I hadn’t hidden under the dining-room table as I said I had, Alex was still confused. We’d been reading in bed for less than thirty seconds when he started up with the questions again.

“It’s just so unlike you. You hate camping.”

“I know. It was an extreme situation.”

“And you’ve never once said hi to the neighbors.”

“And I still don’t want to! Joel is a completely uninteresting person.” This was now true again.

I turned out my light. He left his light on and lay next to me, waiting. Leaving a space for my confession. I had done nothing. Nothing! My heart pounded nonetheless, the dumb beast. Just as I started to roll over, Alex turned to me and used his big hands to pull all my hair back, stretching my face into surprise. He held me like this, studying my posture of alarm, then let go abruptly and fell onto his back in frustration. We embarked on a silence. It grew and grew until it was a sort of god that we could only submit to. After fifteen or twenty minutes I almost giggled—somebody say something!—and then I realized with horror that he was probably asleep. This wasn’t our silence; it was mine alone. I lay paralyzed as it hollowed and darkened, expanding in every direction with a familiar cruelty. Hello, stranger. Once, many years ago, Alex had saved me from this black hole with the kind of understanding that makes everything else in life possible. Even ingratitude.

He shifted under the covers and I held my breath. If he was awake, I would try. If he was asleep, I would sleep, too, and probably forget to try, or forget that it mattered, or what I meant by try. Try to be brave.

“Are you awake?” I whispered.

“Wide awake.”

I sat up and told the story of the video, starting with my quasi-abusive boyfriend and ending with meeting the neighbor twice. Alex was mostly quiet, only asking a few questions (“What was the bowl for?”). I left out the hugging and the e-mailing and the tick-tocking tiny penis, but, still, when I was finished he silently walked out of the room. I took a breath and held it. I had made a terrible mistake. Why had I done this? My mind stopped, poised to shatter.

Then he came back, holding his computer. He solemnly opened it in front of me, like a violin case before a maestro. I typed in the URL. The Web site looked a little different, but the major landmarks were still there.

“You need a credit card to get to it.”

He left and came back with his wallet. He typed in his credit-card number and I clicked around. I wasn’t sure where to go because the college beauties and the hot Korean girl were gone. It was all new girls. They looked extremely young. I scrolled in a daze. Brunette. Underage. Small tits. I stopped clicking.

“When was the last time you saw it?” Alex said quietly.

“I don’t know. I have it pretty memorized so I don’t need to. . . . Not since we’ve been together.”

“Oh. I think they update . . . you know, just . . . for the viewers.”

It seemed obvious now that they wouldn’t still have a video from the nineties.

“Yeah, of course. I just thought maybe they had a section for . . . alumni or . . . I don’t know.”

I shut the computer. It was too bad. Really too bad. How bad? The consequences would be enormous, I felt.

Alex was in the kitchen now, opening cupboards.

He came back with a Teddy bear, an empty beer bottle, and a bowl. He picked up his pillow and pulled the comforter aside, arranging everything along the foot of the stripped bed.

“I can’t re-create it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was true amateur porn, not fake.”

“I understand—the real deal.”

“The people who saw it . . . they were really overcome by it. It was their top video to watch, porn-wise.”

As we talked, Alex seemed to be riding the pillow slightly, maybe unconsciously.

“You’re talking about the pale man—”

“The pale man, the dad, and the butch girl. Yes.”

Now he was rubbing the Teddy bear against his crotch. He slid off his boxer shorts. Well. Well, now. I sat back. He was very much an amateur. He didn’t know what he was doing and he was desperately trying to save his life. I’d never seen him move his hips like that. It was funny, or no, actually not funny, just disorienting, slightly grotesque. He picked up the beer bottle, and, after a moment of honest hesitation, sucked its mouth and then—I reached under my nightgown—began slowly working it into himself. I had never wanted to see this, but I came immediately, and hard. He brought himself to the end of the show, manually. I held my breath, waiting for him to come on the new sheet. I’d have to wash it again. Who cares? I do. Just a little. Just enough to ruin each day. And then, with a swift and professional gesture, he grabbed the bowl and came into it. That was what the bowl was for. ♦

Published in the print edition of the

September 4, 2017

, issue.

Miranda July

is a filmmaker, an artist, and the author of five books. Her latest movie, “Kajillionaire,” will be released in September.

[pamphletstoinspire]

THE BOOK OF RUTH - From The Douay-Rheims Bible - Latin Vulgate

Chapter 2

INTRODUCTION

This Book is called Ruth, from the name of the person whose history is here recorded; who, being a Gentile, became a convert to the true faith, and marrying Booz, the great-grandfather of David, was one of those from whom Christ sprang according to the flesh, and an illustrious figure of the Gentile church. It is thought this book was written by the prophet Samuel. Ch. --- The Holy Ghost chose that the genealogy of David, and of the Messias, should be thus more clearly ascertained. Theodoret. --- Christ proceeded from the Gentiles, as well as from the Jews, and his grace is given to both. W. --- Send forth, 0 Lord, the lamb, the ruler of the earth, from Petra. Isai. xvi. This was the capital city of Arabia Petrea, where Ruth is supposed to have lived, (Tostat) being, according to the Chal. &c. the daughter of Eglon, king of Moab. The Jews also pretend that Booz was the same person as Abesan, the judge. But it is by no means certain to what period this history belongs. Usher places it under Samgar, about 120 years after Josue. C. --- Salien believes that the famine, which obliged Elimelech to leave Bethlehem, happened under Abimelech, and that Noemi returned in the 7th year of Thola, A.C. 1243. This event certainly took place under some of the judges; so that we may consider this book as an appendix to the preceding, like the last chapters, (Judg. xvii. &c. H.) and a preface to the history of the kings. C.

The additional Notes in this Edition of the New Testament will be marked with the letter A. Such as are taken from various Interpreters and Commentators, will be marked as in the Old Testament. B. Bristow, C. Calmet, Ch. Challoner, D. Du Hamel, E. Estius, J. Jansenius, M. Menochius, Po. Polus, P. Pastorini, T. Tirinus, V. Bible de Vence, W. Worthington, Wi. Witham. — The names of other authors, who may be occasionally consulted, will be given at full length.

Verses are in English and Latin.

HAYDOCK CATHOLIC BIBLE COMMENTARY

This Catholic commentary on the Old Testament, following the Douay-Rheims Bible text, was originally compiled by Catholic priest and biblical scholar Rev. George Leo Haydock (1774-1849). This transcription is based on Haydock's notes as they appear in the 1859 edition of Haydock's Catholic Family Bible and Commentary printed by Edward Dunigan and Brother, New York, New York.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Changes made to the original text for this transcription include the following:

Greek letters. The original text sometimes includes Greek expressions spelled out in Greek letters. In this transcription, those expressions have been transliterated from Greek letters to English letters, put in italics, and underlined. The following substitution scheme has been used: A for Alpha; B for Beta; G for Gamma; D for Delta; E for Epsilon; Z for Zeta; E for Eta; Th for Theta; I for Iota; K for Kappa; L for Lamda; M for Mu; N for Nu; X for Xi; O for Omicron; P for Pi; R for Rho; S for Sigma; T for Tau; U for Upsilon; Ph for Phi; Ch for Chi; Ps for Psi; O for Omega. For example, where the name, Jesus, is spelled out in the original text in Greek letters, Iota-eta-sigma-omicron-upsilon-sigma, it is transliterated in this transcription as, Iesous. Greek diacritical marks have not been represented in this transcription.

Footnotes. The original text indicates footnotes with special characters, including the astrisk (*) and printers' marks, such as the dagger mark, the double dagger mark, the section mark, the parallels mark, and the paragraph mark. In this transcription all these special characters have been replaced by numbers in square brackets, such as [1], [2], [3], etc.

Accent marks. The original text contains some English letters represented with accent marks. In this transcription, those letters have been rendered in this transcription without their accent marks.

Other special characters.

Solid horizontal lines of various lengths that appear in the original text have been represented as a series of consecutive hyphens of approximately the same length, such as ---.

Ligatures, single characters containing two letters united, in the original text in some Latin expressions have been represented in this transcription as separate letters. The ligature formed by uniting A and E is represented as Ae, that of a and e as ae, that of O and E as Oe, and that of o and e as oe.

Monetary sums in the original text represented with a preceding British pound sterling symbol (a stylized L, transected by a short horizontal line) are represented in this transcription with a following pound symbol, l.

The half symbol (1/2) and three-quarters symbol (3/4) in the original text have been represented in this transcription with their decimal equivalent, (.5) and (.75) respectively.

Unreadable text. Places where the transcriber's copy of the original text is unreadable have been indicated in this transcription by an empty set of square brackets, [].

Chapter 2

Ruth gleaneth in the field of Booz, who sheweth her favour.

[1] Now her husband Elimelech had a kinsman, a powerful man, and very rich, whose name was Booz.

Erat autem viro Elimelech consanguineus, homo potens, et magnarum opum, nomine Booz.

[2] And Ruth the Moabitess said to her mother in law: If thou wilt, I will go into the field, and glean the ears of corn that escape the hands of the reapers, wheresoever I shall find grace with a householder that will be favourable to me. And she answered her: Go, my daughter.

Dixitque Ruth Moabitis ad socrum suam : Si jubes, vadam in agrum, et colligam spicas quae fugerint manus metentium, ubicumque clementis in me patrisfamilias reperero gratiam. Cui illa respondit : Vade, filia mea.

[3] She went therefore and gleaned the ears of corn after the reapers. And it happened that the owner of that field was Booz, who was of the kindred of Elimelech.

Abiit itaque et colligebat spicas post terga metentium. Accidit autem ut ager ille haberet dominum nomine Booz, qui erat de cognatione Elimelech.

[4] And behold, he came out of Bethlehem, and said to the reapers: The Lord be with you. And they answered him: The Lord bless thee.

Et ecce, ipse veniebat de Bethlehem, dixitque messoribus : Dominus vobiscum. Qui responderunt ei : Benedicat tibi Dominus.

[5] And Booz said to the young man that was set over the reapers: Whose maid is this?

Dixitque Booz juveni, qui messoribus praeerat : Cujus est haec puella?

[6] And he answered him: This is the Moabitess who came with Noemi, from the land of Moab,

Cui respondit : Haec est Moabitis, quae venit cum Noemi, de regione Moabitide,

[7] And she desired leave to glean the ears of corn that remain, following the steps of the reapers: and she hath been in the field from morning till now, and hath not gone home for one moment.

et rogavit ut spicas colligeret remanentes, sequens messorum vestigia : et de mane usque nunc stat in agro, et ne ad momentum quidem domum reversa est.

[8] And Booz said to Ruth: Hear me, daughter, do not go to glean in any other field, and do not depart from this place: but keep with my maids,

Et ait Booz ad Ruth : Audi, filia, ne vadas in alterum agrum ad colligendum, nec recedas ab hoc loco : sed jungere puellis meis,

[9] And follow where they reap. For I have charged my young men, not to molest thee: and if thou art thirsty, go to the vessels, and drink of the waters whereof the servants drink.

et ubi messuerint, sequere. Mandavi enim pueris meis, ut nemo molestus sit tibi : sed etiam si sitieris, vade ad sarcinulas, et bibe aquas, de quibus et pueri bibunt.

[10] She fell on her face and worshipping upon the ground, said to him: Whence cometh this to me, that I should find grace before thy eyes, and that thou shouldst vouchsafe to take notice of me a woman of another country?

Quae cadens in faciem suam et adorans super terram, dixit ad eum : Unde mihi hoc, ut invenirem gratiam ante oculos tuos, et nosse me dignareris peregrinam mulierem?

[11] And he answered her: All hath been told me, that thou hast done to thy mother in law after the death of thy husband: and how thou hast left thy parents, and the land wherein thou wast born, and art come to a people which thou knewest not heretofore.

Cui ille respondit : Nuntiata sunt mihi omnia, quae feceris socrui tuae post mortem viri tui : et quod reliqueris parentes tuos, et terram in qua nata es, et veneris ad populum, quem antea nesciebas.

[12] The Lord render unto thee for thy work, and mayest thou receive a full reward of the Lord the God of Israel, to whom thou art come, and under whose wings thou art fled.

Reddat tibi Dominus pro opere tuo, et plenam mercedem recipias a Domino Deo Israel, ad quem venisti, et sub cujus confugisti alas.

[13] And she said: I have found grace in thy eyes, my lord, who hast comforted me and hast spoken to the heart of thy handmaid, who am not like to one of thy maids.

Quae ait : Inveni gratiam apud oculos tuos, domine mi, qui consolatus es me, et locutus es ad cor ancillae tuae, quae non sum similis unius puellarum tuarum.

[14] And Booz said to her: At mealtime come thou hither, and eat of the bread, and dip thy morsel in the vinegar. So she sat at the side of the reapers, and she heaped to herself frumenty, and ate and was filled, and took the leavings.

Dixitque ad eam Booz : Quando hora vescendi fuerit, veni huc, et comede panem, et intinge buccellam tuam in aceto. Sedit itaque ad messorum latus, et congessit polentam sibi, comeditque et saturata est, et tulit reliquias.

[15] And she arose from thence, to glean the ears of corn as before. And Booz commanded his servants, saying: If she would even reap with you, hinder her not:

Atque inde surrexit, ut spicas ex more colligeret. Praecepit autem Booz pueris suis, dicens : Etiamsi vobiscum metere voluerit, ne prohibeatis eam :

[16] And let fall some of your handfuls of purpose, and leave them, that she may gather them without shame, and let no man rebuke her when she gathereth them.

et de vestris quoque manipulis projicite de industria, et remanere permittite, ut absque rubore colligat, et colligentem nemo corripiat.

[17] She gleaned therefore in the field till evening: and beating out with a rod and threshing what she had gleaned, she found about the measure of an ephi of barley, that is, three bushels:

Collegit ergo in agro usque ad vesperam : et quae collegerat virga caedens et excutiens, invenit hordei quasi ephi mensuram, id est, tres modios.

[18] Which she took up and returned into the city, and shewed it to her mother in law: moreover she brought out, and gave her of the remains of her meat, wherewith she had been filled.

Quos portans reversa est in civitatem, et ostendit socrui suae : insuper protulit, et dedit ei de reliquias cibi sui, quo saturata fuerat.

[19] And her mother in law said to her: Where hast thou gleaned today, and where hast thou wrought? blessed be he that hath had pity on thee. And she told her with whom she had wrought: and she told the man's name, that he was called Booz.

Dixitque ei socrus sua : Ubi hodie collegisti, et ubi fecisti opus? sit benedictus qui misertus est tui. Indicavitque ei apud quem fuisset operata : et nomen dixit viri, quod Booz vocaretur.

[20] And Noemi answered her: Blessed be he of the Lord: because the same kindness which he shewed to the living, he hath kept also to the dead. And again she said: The man is our kinsman.

Cui respondit Noemi : Benedictus sit a Domino : quoniam eamdem gratiam, quam praebuerat vivis, servavit et mortuis. Rursumque ait : Propinquus noster est homo.

[21] And Ruth said, He also charged me, that I should keep close to his reapers, till all the corn should be reaped.

Et ait Ruth : Hoc quoque, inquit, praecepit mihi, ut tamdiu messoribus ejus jungerer, donec omnes segetes meterentur.

[22] And her mother in law said to her: It is better for thee, my daughter, to go out to reap with his maids, lest in another man's field some one may resist thee.

Cui dixit socrus : Melius est, filia mea, ut cum puellis ejus exeas ad metendum, ne in alieno agro quispiam resistat tibi.

[23] So she kept close to the maids of Booz: and continued to glean with them, till all the barley and the wheat were laid up in the barns.

Juncta est itaque puellis Booz : et tamdiu cum eis messuit, donec hordea et triticum in horreis conderentur.

Commentary:

Ver. 1. Booz. The Scripture does not specify how nearly they were related. R. Josue says Elimelech, Salmon, and Tob (C. iii. 13,) were brothers, and Booz was the son of Salmon, which cannot be refuted, (Serar. q. 1. M.) though the authority and proofs be very weak. It is not, however, more probable that Booz was the brother of Elimelech. Some think that he was not the immediate son of Salmon, as four persons seem too few to fill up the space of 366 years, from the marriage of Rahab till the birth of David. But this is not impossible. C. See C. iv. 20.

Ver. 2. To me. It was the privilege of the poor and of strangers to glean. Deut. xxiv. 19. Lev. xix. 9. Yet Ruth asks leave, through civility. C. --- This law is no longer in force, but it would be inhuman for the rich to deny this liberty to those who are in distress, and willing rather to work than to beg. T.

Ver. 4. With you. This blessing the Church still adopts in her service. W. --- It was customary to bless one another during harvest. Ps. cxxviii. 5. 8. C. --- Booz did, as Cato advises, Ne opera parcas visere; "See what is going forward." The master's eye makes the servants diligent. H.

Ver. 5. Man. Heb. nahar, a man in the prime of life. He had the care of all in the field, during the absence of his master; whence Josephus styles him agrocomos, or agronomos. M. --- Homer mentions an officer or king, standing with his sceptre in the midst of the reapers, and silently rejoicing at the rich profusion of the field. Iliad. --- Thus we see the taste of the ancients, while agriculture was honourable.

Ver. 7. Moment. Heb. "her tarrying in the house is but small, or till now, that she remains a little in the house." She entered the house with the reapers, during the excessive heat of the day, and to avoid the suspicion of taking more than was allowed, during their absence. C. --- Sept. "she hath not discontinued to work in the field even a little." Her diligence and modesty attracted the notice of Booz. H.

Ver. 9. Thee. The men tied the corn after the female reapers, (C.) and Ruth was authorized to follow, close at their heels, without fear. H. --- The waters. This is not expressed in Heb. but it is in the Sept. and the Chal. C. --- The privilege of having water in those countries was very considerable. M.

Ver. 10. Country. S. Elizabeth was impressed with similar sentiments, when she was visited by the blessed Virgin; (H.) and so was David, when he considered the wonderful condescension of God. Ps. viii. 5. cxliii. 3. Job vii. 17. C. --- Frequent instances occur in Scripture of people worshipping, or shewing their gratitude to their fellow creatures, by this posture of the body. M. --- Yet no suspicion of idolatry attaches to them. Gen. xxiii. 7. &c. H.

Ver. 11. Heretofore, to embrace the same religion. M.

Ver. 12. Work. Booz doubted not but a full and eternal reward was due to good works. W. --- Fled. This similitude frequently occurs, (Ps. xxxv. 8. Mat. xxiii. 37,) to denote protection. C. --- Chal. "Thou art come to be a proselyte, and to hide thyself under the shade of the majesty of his glory." M.

Ver. 13. Heart. This has the same meaning as the former part of the sentence. C. See Ose. ii. 14. H. --- Maids, but more lowly and mean. M.

Ver. 14. Vinegar, or small wine, made on purpose for working people. Some think that such was presented to our Saviour. Yet vinegar was very frequently mixed with other things, and was esteemed particularly refreshing. Plin. xxiii. 1. C. --- Side. Not in front, that they might not stare at her. M. --- And she, &c. Heb. "and he gave her frumenty, or parched corn." A little oil might be poured upon it. See Lev. ii. 14. 2 K. xxvi. 28. H. --- Travellers in Ethiopia only take parched barley with them. C. --- The leavings, to Noemi. "Learn, says Seneca, (ep. 110,) to be content with a little." Sept. "and Booz heaped up food before her, and she ate and was filled, and left a part." H. --- But it appears that she afterwards took it home, v. 18. M. --- The vinegar and corn which were given to Ruth were very refreshing. The Spaniards still drink posca, or water and vinegar. T.

Ver. 15. Reap. Heb. "if she will glean, even among the sheaves, do not cover her with confusion," (H.) or hinder her. Ps. xliii. 10. C.

Ver. 17. Rod, as Gedeon had done. Judg. vi. 11. --- That is, &c. an explanation of the Vulg. C. --- The ephi contained three pecks and three pints. Arbuthnot. --- Alcazar and A. Lapide say 960 ounces. M.

Ver. 20. Dead. He hath not forgotten Elimelech, his friend, for whose sake he treats his daughter-in-law with kindness. H. --- Kinsman. Heb. adds, "one of our redeemers, (C.) or next kinsmen." H. --- To such the right of avenging the slain, of marrying the widow of the deceased, and entering upon his property, belonged. The best interpreters suppose that Booz was the nephew of Elimelech. C. Lev. xxv. 25. Deut. xxv. 5. M.

Ver. 23. And the wheat. Heb. Syr. and Arab. "It is good that thou keep close to the maidens of Booz, and continue to glean with them till," &c. This was the advice of Noemi: but Providence ordered that Ruth should be married to Booz before the commencement of the wheat harvest. C. - The Prot. agree with the Vulg. and Sept. "So she kept fast by, &c. unto the end of the barley harvest, and of the wheat harvest, and dwelt with her mother-in-law." These last words are expressed by the Vulg in the following chapter. H..

[auskultu]

HOUSE-TO-HOUSE SEARCH FOR SNIPERS BEGUN AS RIOT ENTERS 6TH DAY

Homer Bigart, The New York Times, 17 July 1967

NEWARK – National Guard troops and the police hunted house to house for snipers today after gunfire claimed three more lives in this riot-torn city.

Nearly half of Newark’s 23.7 square miles was an occupied zone. As sporadic sniping continued, guardsmen and policemen—weary and trigger-quick after days and nights of tension—were reported to have engaged each other in several accidental gunfights.

The actions of the guardsmen and the state police drew angry protests yesterday from moderate leaders of the Negro community. They accused the militia and the police of harassing peacemakers and of destroying Negro-owned stores.

12-Year-Old Boy Killed The latest riot victim was a 12-year-old Negro boy, Michael Pugh, who was shot in the side early this morning. He died in Newark City Hospital.

Witnesses said he was emptying a pail of garbage in front on his home on 15th Avenue. His family said the shot had come from a group of guardsmen standing a block away.

The boy’s death raised the toll in the six days of rioting to 24 dead. Early last night, Mrs. Eloise Spellman, 41, died of gunshot wounds. She had been caught in crossfire between guardsmen and snipers while in her 1Oth-floor apartment at 322 Hunterdon Avenue.

Earlier, a teen-age Negro was shot in the chest by the state police while allegedly looting a store at Bergen Street and Custer Avenye.

Since the riots began, more than 700 have been injured am more than 1,200 arrested.

The police radio kept warning: "Be sure of target. HoId fire until you are sure of target.”

A state trooper, CpI. Samuel Leon, was shot twice, in an arm and the buttocks, and ws: taken to Newark City Hospital That hospital game under sniper fire for the third straight night. Doctors and nurses dropped to the floor during 10 minutes of sniping that started at 9:30 P.M.

The police began shooting from hallway windows and guardsmen threw tear gas into an abandoned three-story house near the hospital, but failed tc rout any suspects. Two guardsmen were overcome by tear gas.

Gov. Richard J. Hughes reported late yesterday that there had been a reduction in violence. But at 9:30 P.M. sniper suddenly intensified in two separate areas—High Street, Orange Street and Central Avenue.

At 11:30 P.M. all city bus ceased operation. Except for the occasional crackle of rifle fire, the city fell silent.

Governor Hughes said at news conference yesterday that despite the efforts of the powerful force of guardsmen and state and city police the situation remained critical.

The Governor’s command post in the Roseville Avenue Armory was not far from where a sniper was reported to have taken up a firing position. A large crowd of whites that ha been loitering all day in front of the armory was disperse and the streets were cleared.

The police had warnings of rising vigilantism among white living near the ghetto. Three white teen-agers were arrested when a search of their car disclosed a rifle and a shotgun.

Businesses Advised Governor Hughes asked major business concerns to remain closed today. He said that the national railroad strike would clog the streets with thousands of commuters trying to read work by car or bus and that he did not want traffic jams in the riot area.

He asked, however, that food stores and restaurants remain open. Banks and public utilities will also open.

Newark College of Engineering will be closed both day and night. Rutgers University will be open in the day but closed at night.

Mr. Hughes directed all schools in Newark to remain closed today, and urged that only essential businesses—among them food stores and pharmacies—open. He said liquor stores and taverns would remain closed "until we can say order has been restored.”

One of Newark’s largest employers, the Public Service Electric and Gas Company, said only 500 essential workers among its 2,500 employees would be called in today.

The Prudential Insurance Company of America, which employs 9,000 people, said its Newark headquarters would be closed.

The riots and the railroad strike prompted the Selective Service System to postpone the induction of 500 men who were scheduled to report today. Col. Joseph T. Avella, the state’s director of Selective Service, said draft boards would notify those affected of a new induction date.

The Governor said he hoped for an early resumption of critical services, such as garbage collection, in the Negro districts. This, he said, would depend on the security situation. Thousands of residents of the heavily Negro Central Ward lined up for hours to receive meager rations of food as the first supplies since Wednesday night began moving into the area under armed guard. Distribution centers manned by volunteers were set up in housing projects and community centers and five supermarkets were reopened under police guard.

Emergency distribution of food might be adversely affected by the national railroad strike, he said.

The first efforts to bridge the gulf between the white and Negro communities collapsed yesterday.

Peace Effort Fails A five-man interracial committee that had recruited several hundred persons to urge the mobs to "cool it” reported complete failure. The peace missionaries, who wore lime-colored armbands, said their leaders had decided to drop the campaign because of harassment by the National Guard and state police.

Adam Garrett, a committee member, said the volunteers would confine their efforts to telling Negroes living in the besieged areas where to go for emergency food and medicine.

Far more damaging to prospects for peace was the reaction of middle-class Negroes to what they called "wanton destruction” perpetrated early today by state policemen and guardsmen.

They charged that shop windows bearing the sign "Soul Brother”—indicating that the owner was a Negro—had been systematically smashed by state troopers’ bullets or been bashed in by the rifle butts of guardsmen. Most of this destruction, they said, took place along Bergen Street, in one of the better Negro residential areas in the West Ward.

Yesterday morning, groups of well-dressed Negroes stood on the street corners of the West Ward and surveyed the damage with somber wrath. J. J. Brown, the proprietor of a record store on Avon Avenue, had put a sign on his damaged window. It said: “State Police Shot Up This Store!”

Residents said two carloads of state troopers entered the area sometime after 3 A.M. and fired into the store windows. Guardsmen joined in the destruction, they said, using rifle butts.

Governor Hughes, at a late afternoon news conference called the charges “hearsay” but added that he was “disturbed” by the reports ai would be glad to investigate the Negroes would provide “facts, figures, time and places.”

Immediately after the Governor’s news conference a delegation of 40 Negroes, armed with photographs of smashed storefronts and some slugs from .38-caliber bullets that said were found inside the stores, arrived at the Rosevil Avenue Armory to see the Governor and confront him with telegram they had sent to Pre ident Johnson.

They said they wanted the National Guard and the state police replaced by “fully integrated Federal troops.”

The telegram to the President explained that Federal troops were needed because of “wanton destruction of property and “actual murders” committed by the police and Nationl Guard men.

Dr. Reynold C. Burch, a leaf er of the group, said innocent Negroes had been killed in “indiscriminate firing” by the ant riot forces.

The telegram also cited “inflammatory statements” by Governor Hughes and Mayor Hugh J. Addonizio and the alleged mobilization of white vigilantes in areas bordering the Negro ghetto.

This vigilante move was fostered, the telegram said, by "ignorant statements made by the Mayor and Governor.” It urged action by the President "by nightfall.”

Governor Hughes said he was aware of Negro charges that the presence of the National Guard and the state police was only adding to the legacy of hate left by the nation’s worst racial explosion in two years He said he was “assessing” the role of the Guard and the police.

But he called the snipers "unregenerate criminals” and said the guardsmen and the state police would “remain until order is restored.”

Weary National Guard men who said they were members of Headquarters Company of the 114th Division, from Woodbury, N. J., ducked sniper fire in the Negro Central Ward in the hours between midnight and dawn yesterday.

“It’s a lousy thing,” a private first class said as he clutched his M-1 rifle with its fixed bayonet. "The first time we ever shot at anyone, and we're shooting at Americans.” The police revised their figures downward last night on the number of persons arrested land injured. They said 1,257 had been arrested and 702 injured.

In a predawn conference yesterday, Governor Hughes offered executive clemency to any prisoners who would give evidence leading to the conviction of a sniper.

Coatless, red-eyed with fatigue, still incensed over the shooting of a fire captain by snipers, the Governor denounced the sniping attacks as “senseless, terrible and criminal.”

He said that State Attorney General Arthur Sills would urge Essex County Prosecutor Brendan Byrne to propose maximum sentences for charges growing out of sniping incidents. He also said he would ask the State Supreme Court to expedite the court calendars to allow the earliest possible processing of these cases.

"I will urge clemency for looters if, and only if, such persons give information leading to the arrest of a person for sniping,” the Governor said.

No Conspiracy Seen Governor Hughes, appearing with Mayor Addonizio on a televised news conference at noon, said the police estimated that as many as 25 snipers were operating in the ghetto. He said he had been told that "some” of those arrested were from outside the city, and added that the police believed some dead snipers were still in or on buildings in Central Ward.

Neither the Governor nor the Mayor said he had any evidence of a conspiracy by an outside group, but the Governor said that “the rather expert sniping, the jumping from place to place—the cruel and despicable efficiency with which this sniping occurred—indicates some organization and some coordination between these criminals participating in it.”

He charged that many of the rioters were "committing violence because they hate America.”

Early yesterday afternoon, escorted by a carload of state policemen with riot guns, Governor Hughes made a quick tour of Negro districts. He said he was pleased to find a partly looted chain grocery had reopened again for business.

He said he thought that the looting and plundering phase of the disorders was over, but reports of scattered pillage later in the day proved him premature.

Mr. Hughes said he had told the Episcopal Bishop of Newark, the Right Rev. Leland Stark, one of the sponsors of the national black power conference scheduled to start here Thursday, that he couldn’t think of "a worse time or a worse place to have a black power meeting.”

He insisted again that he did not need Federal troops. What the Federal government should do, he said, is send all possible economic aid to the city.

Newark is chronically depressed, with an unemployment rate considerably more than double the national average. Economic misery is the root cause of the riot, the Governor said.

Local leaders of the Congress of Racial Equality and the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee held a news conference yesterday afternoon and issued a demand for "immediate withdrawal of National Guard units and state and Newark police from the ghetto.

James Hooper, chairman of the Newark CORE, said Mayor Addonizio had neglected Negro problems. One major grievance, he said, was lack of relocation facilities for people displaced by the proposed construction of a medical college in the heart of the ghetto.

The presence of troops and police only intensified the rioting, Mr. Hooper said.

"Parents aren’t going to sit back and let their kids get shot up,” said Jesse Allen, a CORE organizer. “They’ll go into the streets, too. Then this town will turn into a cemetery. The police are out of control and the National Guard is out of control, too.”

The leaders said the black power conference should proceed as scheduled.

But the crowd of white men loitering near Governor Hughes’s command post in the Roseville Armory sounded equally aggressive.

“If they want war, they’ll get it,” growled one man.

Something very much like war has occurred here as sniper fire from roofs and blackened windows has caused police to spray bullets into tenements and housing projects at scattered points.

Half a dozen fire stations have come under sniper fire. Engine Company 12, in the West Ward, was forced to stay in its quarters for several hours by intense fire.