#Fort Ord

[alanshemper]

“Most of the buildings pictured here have been torn down now, and replaced with the mass-produced detritus of our culture; big box stores and parking lots.”

[twoseparatecoursesmeet]

Fort Ord, California , 1960

[nicholasevansca]

[peachespearsandplumbs]

[mntyfrsh]

31/52 — 2023 08/05

Fujifilm X-S20 + XF 18–55mm lens

[minceyfresh]

19/52 — 2023 05.07

Panasonic Lumix GF6 + Lumix G Vario 14–140mm lens

#Lumix #LumixGF6 #Lumix14140 #photography

[remyfire]

The power of California

[ro-sso]

what if i... hypothetically... made a minecraft world into a replica of star stable online... what would people do...

[chantelbeam]

Self Portrait with Hope

35mm. Fort Ord 2018

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from The Desert Sun:

All of America's national monuments must be reviewed for potential oil and gas drilling and mining reserves, critics say, per bureaucratic language tucked deep in a sweeping order issued on Monday by newly sworn-in Interior Secretary Doug Burgum.

His order 3418, “Unleashing American Energy,” mandates that the Interior Department finish its initial monument review by Feb. 18.

That means 157 locations in 33 states and several national territories — including the freshly designated Chuckwalla National Monument and Sattitla National Monument in California — could be subjected to the expedited 15-day review, and attempts could be made to "revise" their boundaries.

Monuments protect cultural and historic resources and the lands that contain them, and are created by Congress or U.S. presidents. California has more monuments than any other state, with more than 4 million acres likely under review, one expert said, from popular desert off-roading trails to massive coastal redwoods. They include Mojave Trails, Sand to Snow, Carrizo Plain, Muir Woods, Devils Postpile, Cabrillo, Lava Beds, California Coastal, Sequoia NF, Cesar Chavez, Fort Ord, San Gabriel Mountains, Berryessa Snow Mountain and Castle Mountains.

The relevant portion of Burgrum's order includes “actions to review and, as appropriate, revise all withdrawn public lands, consistent with existing law, including 54 U.S.C. 320301 and 43 U.S.C. 1714."

Although not spelled out in plain English, those sections of code govern the Antiquities Act of 1906, under which 20 U.S. presidents have set aside millions acres of land and historic sites, from Alaska to Florida.

[Additional information from a story from Inside Climate News:

The order calls on the Interior’s assistant secretaries to identify in their action plans how to accomplish “actions to review and, as appropriate, revise all withdrawn public lands” under the Antiquities Act of 1906, the law that allows presidents to create national monuments, and the Federal Land Policy and Management Act of 1976, which outlines how federal lands can be used and allows for the establishment of national wildlife refuges and more. ]

Many Republican lawmakers have criticized presidents' use of the Antiquities Act to block mining, fossil fuels and other industrial development on federal monument lands.

But myriad environmental, hunting and fishing groups sharply condemned Burgum's actions, once the meaning became clear.

"Burgum knows that attacking monuments is incredibly unpopular, which is why he won't even use the words 'national monuments' or 'Antiquities Act' in his orders. He's trying to operate in secret here, and definitely does not want any public input," said Aaron Weiss, deputy director of Center for Western Priorities.

"This is a sneaky, unpatriotic attack that strikes at the very foundation of the country’s beloved public lands," a coalition of groups said in a news release condemning the order. "These national treasures are broadly beloved. They safeguard our water, buoy the outdoor recreation economy, protect our trails, and preserve a national heritage rich in culture and natural beauty. Attacks on the outdoors, such as this order from Secretary Burgum, threaten the $640-billion recreation economy, putting millions of jobs at risk."

The statement added that "the order fails to recognize that oil production hit record highs under the Biden administration. This isn’t about energy dominance. Washington politicians and their billionaire advisors have an unpatriotic anti-public lands agenda that aims to dismantle our national monuments for corporate polluters."

And here's a statement from the Conservation Lands Foundation:

These orders also willfully ignore the rural residents and communities whose personal and local incomes rely on these lands being protected from privatization. Outdoor recreation on BLM lands contributes more than $11 billion to the economy and substantial income to individuals, small and large businesses, and rural communities through hunting, fishing, camping, climbing, riding off-highway vehicles, and many other activities. 

With roughly 85% of BLM lands already available for energy production–and roughly half of existing oil and gas leases not being used–it's crystal clear that these recent orders targeting the 15% of public lands that are protected for the public’s use have nothing to do with the nation’s energy portfolio.  

There’s really no explanation other than this administration is trying to sneakily and greedily sell off the 15% of protected public lands to the wealthy and well-connected, thereby blocking access for everyone else. It’s an attack that flies in the face of America’s ideals and the Conservation Lands Foundation will be unrelenting in our fight on the side of the people–85% of voters in the west–who support keeping public lands in the public’s hands.

More information from the story from Inside Climate News:

Secretary Burgum’s order would also weaken protections for migratory birds, whose numbers are declining because of climate change, disease, changes in land use and habitat loss. 

In North America, there are 3 billion fewer birds now than in 1970, according to federal documents. The populations of many of the 1,093 species protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act are also declining.

The intention of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act is to curb those losses by prohibiting the accidental killing and incidental takes—killings that are unintentional but not unexpected—of protected birds.  

In his first term, President Trump weakened the MBTA to prohibit only deliberate killings of migratory birds, not incidental takes. The rule benefited business, development and energy companies because it “significantly reduced the activities that would result in liability,” according to the National Law Review. For instance, ponds of toxic waste that accidentally poison birds were no longer subject to the act’s restrictions.

The Biden administration rescinded the Trump rule and restored some protections for migratory birds while granting several exemptions for incidental takes.

The latest order would reinstate the rules implemented during the first Trump administration.]

[alanshemper]

21 June 2023

[pfctipper]

Kind of fascinated by this little section in one of Dick’s books:

Our OCS class graduated on July 2, 1942 […] Following lunch at the officers club, we were free to go our own way, though few of us had actual assignments. Nixon was assigned duty at Fort Ord, California, and attached to the military police unit on post. With no immediate openings in the paratroopers, I returned to Camp Croft to train another contingent that had recently arrived. As an officer I didn’t last long at Croft: about five weeks to be exact, before receiving orders to report to the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, at Camp Toombs, Georgia […] Following a brief leave, I arrived in Toccoa in mid-August. Disembarking from the Southern Railway train adjacent to the Toccoa Coffin Factory, Lewis Nixon and I were directed to board an army truck for “Camp Toombs” - Richard Winters and Cole C. Kingseed, Beyond Band of Brothers: The War Memoirs of Major Dick Winters (2006)

Camp Croft is in South Carolina and Fort Ord is in California. I don’t know much about the USA rail system, or how involved the army would have been in coordinating their travel, but regardless of whether Dick was travelling from South Carolina or wherever he was on leave - how likely is it that they’d end up on the exact same train into Toccoa? Maybe something they’d either planned themselves, or they’d departed from the same place (maybe Nix had leave too?)- or a coincidental train/station reunion after five weeks apart? Who knows, but very sweet that he makes a point of highlighting that the two of them (and only the two of them?) arrived together anyway.

[sigynpenniman]

AIRPORT TIERLIST OF AIRPORTS I’VE BEEN THROUGH FROM SOMEONE WHO FUCKING LOVES AIRPORTS

S TIER:

- MCO Orlando. My love my queen. Platonic ideal of airports. All the other airports wanna be her.

- MSY New Orleans - I have only seen your beautiful face once but your vibes were just impeccable. I miss you beautiful

A TIER:

- LHR London Heathrow - you’re so chill and sweet to be such a major airport. Weirdly calming somehow. Sterile, but the big boy of London airports. When you’re here you’re in London. Smells like joy.

- CDG Charles DeGaulle Paris. Dripping in stunning retro futurism and has a Concorde on stands by the runway. We love her

- DCA Ronald Reagan Washington DC. So pretty. So clean. So easy to navigate. Prevented from S tier status by being one long skinny thing with no way to get quickly across it.

B TIER:

- DEN Denver Colorado. Architecture for the gods but somehow the vibes are off. I’d fly through you again happily but I don’t feel especially warm when I think of you.

- FLL Fort Lauderdale - Hollywood. You’re permanently attached to very warm memories for me because of the trip I took from you but you’re just kind of there. Vibes are off. Meh.

- ORD Chicago O’hare. Aesthetic perfection but weirdly stressful. While I had a great time on this trip I do not think warmly of the airport other than the rainbow lighting. Jules got yelled at here. -10 points.

- CLE Cleveland Ohio. Another airport that is home of warm memories due to loved ones but just really not the vibe as an airport.

C TIER:

- LGW London Gatwick. I don’t like you for no reason. Like a disappointment, you’re in London but not at Heathrow for some reason.

- PHL Philadelphia. Again, weird aimless dislike. I cannot justify.

- BNA Nashville. Meh. Fine, which may be the worst insult I can lob at an airport.

D TIER:

- LGA New York LaGaurdia. Fuck you and your tiny spirit terminal in the middle of nowhere and your hard to access rental cars and your poor road signage that sent me round and round on the New York interstate in my rented Corolla. The bigger terminals are pretty though, and anyway. New York City!

E TIER:

JAX Jacksonville. Ew.

F TIER:

BOS Boston Logan International Airport. I loathe you. Less busy numerically than ATL and yet somehow even more spread out. Signage is bad. Directions unclear. Nothing makes sense in this alternate reality. Labyrinthine building designed by the god Hades. Never again would be too soon.

UNTIERABLE:

ATL - Hartsfield Jackson Atlanta. The biggest and busiest airport in the world. When you buy a ticket on Delta a box pops up that says “by buying this ticket you agree to see the inside of Hartsfield Jackson Airport.” Not actually a real place, but a floating parallel dimensional space you enter when you walk through the doors. When you get off the Plane Train at terminal D a sign to the left points down a hallway and says “Walk to Terminal E. Time: 45 minutes.” Bigger than many cities and some European principalities. And sometimes you’ll be forced to run clear across it when your gate gets changed. Send every domestic flight that goes near it and many that don’t through it for a completely unnecessary 45 minute layover and sautée until golden brown to birth this unholy god of a space outside all time. They have CPR training machines. They have bathrooms too rarely. They have a whole other airport underneath for international transfers. Don’t die before you see it. Everyone should, at least once. 🎶Welcome Aboard the Plane Train!🎶 next stop: the 4th circle of hell. Walk to purgatory: 45 minutes. Moving sidewalk out of order.

[peachespearsandplumbs]

1950. Korean War, Fort Ord CA

[momojedi]

You said random promt soo... Wrecker x Plus size reader where she never really gets a chance to dress up so he makes an exuse (they go on a picnic set up by him) so that she can feel pretty and loved.

— PRETTY THINGS pairing. wrecker x ex-senator! gn! reader

**

type. oneshot note. thanks for your request! I'm afraid I might've drifted away from your original request but I hope you like it nonetheless! The reader's gender isn't really specified, so it's set as gender neutral! warnings. fluffy flamingo fluff word count. 623

star wars masterlist || pinned post

"Alright, I know what's goin' on."

You looked up from the golden grass you'd been plucking at and rose a brow at Wrecker's words. The gentle giant was bashfully rubbing the back of his neck, almost as if he'd been feeling guilty. Your heart cracked at the sight - it always pained you to see him feeling unwell in any way.

After gushing to you about how little time he realised you'd been spending together lately, Wrecker had offered to take you on a picnic near the old military base of Fort Garnik. Lavender clouds covered the skies and turned the atmosphere into a pure dreamscape, it was almost unimaginable that you were still on the same planet as Cid's parlour.

For the first time in ages, you actually felt pretty again, too. You'd gotten all out for your date, even managing to do your hair properly again for the first time since your senator days. After escaping from the Empire with the Batch, your life was turned upside down, all the luxuries you savoured day by day being ripped apart from you within a few seconds.

"What?" You asked, tilting your head curiously. With a subtle sigh, Wrecker approached you carefully. "Remember when we went for post-mission tradition a few days ago? With Omega?" You gnawed at your lower lip. Of course you did.

You'd just arrived on Ord Mantell to return the intel Cid had ordered you to retrieve to the commissioner. After Hunter had dismissed you three so you could get to your snacking time, Omega had convinced you to head to the slightly prettier side of the city - well, as pretty as Ord Mantell could be, really - and take a look around.

Despite hesitating, you and Wrecker had eventually agreed, leading to the situation you eventually found yourself in; you, standing in front of one of the fancier stores, luxurious dresses and cloaks made of fabric you could only dream of ever getting in touch with, as your former self glared right back at you through the reflection of the shop's glass. You couldn't deny it - looking upon your current financial state, a tiny part of you missed living in the comfort the title of a senator brought along. And although it was understandable in some way, you felt dirty for it. How much had the Batch already sacrificed in order to properly incorporate you along with Omega, and to make you feel welcomed and safe?

Omega, being the sweet thing that she is, had immediately noticed how your face had fallen. "[Name]? Is ... is everything okay?" You shook your head, clearing the guilt that suddenly overcame you. "Ah," you smiled at her, squeezing the small hand that had tightly gripped yours, "I'm fine. Just ... remembering my senator days, I suppose."

"Oh ..." You sighed at the sudden realisation, "Wrecker, are you feeling bad about that?" "Er, yeah - well, no! - maybe?" He frantically looked around, looking for the proper words. A small smile pulled on your lips as you gently set a hand on his arm. "Is that why you took me here? So I would have the chance to dress up a bit?" Wrecker nodded sheepishly. "I noticed you looking at that shop earlier," he sighed, "I wish I was able to give you all those nice things ... unfortunately, I can't. But I'm gonna do everything I can do make you feel as loved and pretty as you deserve to!" You chuckled at his determined promise. "Oh, it's very kind of you to be so thoughtful, love," you spoke softly, cupping his cheek with your other hand, "but you don't have to feel bad. I made a choice when I joined you and I wouldn't have it any other way."

[wannabelilybriscoe]

new year new snippet

thanks for the tag, @kaaaaaaarf! i finally have a little snippet to share from the upcoming chapter of asfteotw. under the cut. very rough, subject to change!

np tag: @leavesthatarebrown @m00neroni @moonheavens !!

November 28, 1975: 468 Days Before Things Fall Apart

A grey cloud hangs over Lisburn. Has been hanging over the town since the Lupins arrived at the Thiepval Barracks at the end of August. 

Of all the places they’ve lived, each with their own shade of unrest, Lisburn has got to be the dreariest. A tension permeates the air, mingling with the fog and the rain. It settles over everything like a heavy blanket pulled over your face. Inside the barracks, Remus knows they’re safe–the adults have all reassured them time and again—but it’s a caged-in sort of safety. It’s not wise to be leaving the barracks, with the threat of car bombings and scrimmages in the streets. So, Remus has become well-aquainted with the same damp pavement, the same rust-bricked buildings, and the same chain-link fence keeping the rest of Lisburn at bay. 

As on any other base, life in the Thiepval barracks is structured and predictable. Wake up. Breakfast with mam. Then, to the school building for 8:30 where they sit in rows under watchful eyes. After classes end, there’s rugby and football in the fields behind the school building, but that’s not Remus’s scene. He finds the constant posturing and jostling for dominance of the other boys to be exhausting. Some of the girls are nice, and Remus chats with them in class and during lunch. But mostly, he prefers to keep to himself. He’d rather head home after classes to pick up Jack so he can walk him around the barracks, smoke a fag, and peer through the fence at the dreary streets beyond. Shadowy figures of soldiers patrolling past the political murals scrawled onto walls by rebels, and beyond that, tall and imperial, the belltower of St. Patrick’s Church. Then there’s dinner at 6 around the circular kitchen table in his family’s quarters. Then, the evening news with mam and dad. Lately, it’s always reports of unrest a few miles away. “Another car bomb,” dad mutters, his jaw tight. Then it’s lights out at 10:30. Rinse, repeat.

Until this morning. As usual, Remus sit straight in his seat, positioned strategically in the middle of the room but closer to the window. He’s looking out said window, noticing the way the fog obscures the spire of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, making the tower appear to stretch on forever upwards. Trying to decide if it’s symbolic of something. He barely registers the teacher’s droning voice. 

“Right, everyone. We have a new classmate joining us today. Introduce yourself, son.” 

“Yes, sir. Oliver Fisher. My father’s Captain Oswolf Fisher, Liaison Officer, British Army Training and Advisory Team.”

The voice is quiet but steady, carrying a hint of a Northern lilt. Remus’s gaze follows it curiously. 

The first thing he notices about Oli is his tan. That detail would be enough to get anyone’s attention in Lisburn at the end of November. His hair is blonde, cropped short like most boys on the base. He’s of average height and skinny, with soft features—there’s something soft about his entire countenance, despite how he stands at attention. Holding the pose, but without conviction. 

“And where did you say your father was stationed before here?” the teacher asks. 

“Fort Ord, Sir. Monterey Bay, California.” 

Excited murmurs ripple throughout the class. California. Not just across the channel, but all the way across the Atlantic. 

“Very good. Well, take that seat beside Lupin.” 

The teacher gestures to the empty desk beside Remus and suddenly, Oli’s blue eyes are on him. Remus feels a surprising thrill run up his spine. Obediently, Oli strolls over and sits down, casting a polite smile at Remus. He has a dimple in his right cheek. 

“Hey,” he says mildly. 

“‘Lo,” Remus replies. 

Class goes on–English. They’re learning about sonnets. The teacher drones on about the rhyme schemes of English versus Italian sonnets. The lecture is enough to put anyone to sleep (in fact, he can hear the sound of a boy snoring at the back of the class). But when it comes time to read examples, Remus find his interest piqued. The teacher calls on students to read, who respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Predictably, when one of the boys at the back of the class is called upon, his delivery of Petrarch’s “Sonnet 131” is more jeer than recital. 

Then, to his mortification, the teacher calls upon Remus to read Shakespeare's “Sonnet 18”. Remus stands obediently, holding the textbook in his clammy hands. 

He wills his voice to stay steady as he begins. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?/Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” 

Snickers from the other boys prickle in his ears. He breathes out through his nose, he forces his face to stay impassive. 

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,/And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;/Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,/And often is his gold complexion dimm'd.”

Before he even realizes he’s doing it, his eyes flit over to Oli. His sun-kissed complexion and golden hair. The corner of Oli’s mouth twitches and immediately, Remus feels his face heat up. He looks back down at the page and soldiers forward, slumping back down into his seat the moment he’s done. For the rest of the class, he keeps his eyes trained on the blackboard, painfully aware of Oli’s presence in his peripheral. What the fuck was that?