#I don’t think golfers have humanity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

berrypass-de-murdler · 3 months ago

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2 - 32 Country Clubbed to Death

goddammit I worked so hard on another drawing that wasn't enoughhh

Anyway, recently I have been pouring a ton of effort into BABYTINO lore, so have these ridiculous smol chonkers. I've been working on it a lot so if you wanna know more let me know :3

I'm also depressing myself with this new lore so let's get to an extremely stupid filler episode to snap me out of it

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

LOGICO: Why are there SO MANY murders? Literally daily murders. Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious? IRRATINO: Hmm… nah. Look a country club! I bet we’ll find a murder there.

They sign up to do some golfin’. Some others are also there, gently whacking balls.

TANGERINE: Hi.

A murder occurs.

TANGERINE: :p LOGICO: I know country club politics are cutthroat, but this seems like overkill… IRRATINO: HAAAAHhahahaha. ‘Overkill’. LOGICO: Hehehehe I know right? Because the murder.

The other two suspects are Judge Pine and Vice President MAUVE. Logico expects the latter to announce her catchphrase, and is almost disappointed when she doesn’t.

MAUVE: Heh? What are you looking at.

First, the boys head to a CREEPY boarded-up shack - the place where the golfers keep their SHIT… and bodies. Tangerine has retreated there to do their… y’know.

TANGERINE: Logico. Look what I got.

They show off a NICE-ass first-place trophy. They do some enchanting hand gestures to add to the effect.

TANGERINE: Mauve was caught cheating - using her VR headset to guide her swings. With her out of the picture, this baby turned out to be all mine. LOGICO: Um… okay. So, what do you know about the murder? TANGERINE: Nothing. Why are you in here? LOGICO: [facepalm]

Next, they move on to the Judge Pine.

PINE: All I know is Vice President Mauve was in the dining hall. LOGICO: That’s all you know? About the entire murder? PINE: Yes. IRRATINO: You don’t know where you were? LOGICO: Or what weapon you were carrying? IRRATINO: I think she must have been blacked out. LOGICO: You know the drinks they serve in these places. PINE: Wh- OXYMORONS: [snickering like idiots]

After getting statements, Logico finds Irratino grinning madly by one of the holes.

LOGICO: What are you doing? IRRATINO: Being an esoteric detective. I’m imagining Mauve with a poisoned cocktail.

Mauve puts down a glass she was about to drink out of.

IRRATINO: Watch me do this hole in one.

He swings a club badly and faceplants. Logico laughs.

LOGICO: You have to dress like an OLD MAN, Irratino. No one else GOLFS.

The suspects look offended.

LOGICO: You think you can just GOLF in THAT? [tickles goat] IRRATINO: Ohhh don't you mess with me! I'm the golf queen! I’ve been to 5,000 conventions! [picks up short king and shakes him around] LOGICO: Oh you have? Well my GREAT AUNT was an ACTUAL GOLF BALL! Give me the club! IRRATINO: NUH-UH!

They are running around and giggling like maniacs. Are they high??

MAUVE: I want to go home now.

Pine can’t take it anymore!

PINE: [stomp] WILL Y’ALL SHUT UP? I DID THE MURDER OKAY?? He cheated at golf! He had to be dealt with! LOGICO: Pfffft. Golf isn’t worth KILLING over. TANGERINE: Um, yes it is. That human fucking deserved what he got. No one cheats at golf in front of us. NO ONE.

Mauve VERY slowly slides away.

LOGICO: I can’t believe your idea of annoying them into a confession actually worked. IRRATINO: The amount of sugar I dumped in your coffee helped! LOGICO: >:0!!!

He lightly whacks Irratino in the nuts with a golf club.

LOGICO: Now are you proud of yourself? I get VIOLENT on a sugar high. IRRATINO: …fine…

They have to calm down before the next murder.

The end!

New trick - if you're annoying enough, the suspects will just confess! ^w^

NNAAAAAAA BABYTINO MAKES ME SAD GIVE HIM TO ME RIGHT NOW-

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

#murdle #cartoonmurdleverse

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pashterlengkap · 1 year ago

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Trans golfer Hailey Davidson will undergo testosterone testing after death threats

Following backlash to her win earlier this month at the NXXT Women’s Classic in Howey-in-the-Hills, Florida, trans golfer Hailey Davidson will undergo testosterone testing to ensure compliance with the NXXT Women’s Pro Tour’s gender policies. Davidson told Golfweek that she received five to 10 death threats on social media in the days after taking the top prize at the January 17 event, before deleting her X (formerly Twitter) account. Related: Hailey Davidson may be the first out trans woman to join the LPGA tour She says if she succeeds, her critics will say it’s because she’s transgender rather than because of her lifelong work at improving her game. On Monday, NXXT Golf CEO Stuart McKinnon released a statement addressing the controversy. “The recent discussions surrounding Hailey Davidson’s participation and success on our tour have highlighted a range of viewpoints,” McKinnon wrote, noting that the NXXT Women’s Pro Tour’s policies and decisions are guided by the frameworks set by the Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) and United States Golf Association (USGA). Never Miss a Beat Subscribe to our daily newsletter to stay ahead of the latest LGBTQ+ political news and insights. “Recognizing the spectrum of views on this issue, we wish to highlight that our decisions are guided by what is best for our players, setting aside personal beliefs,” McKinnon continued. “Part of our commitment is ensuring an environment that is inclusive and safe for all members.” McKinnon said that NXXT Golf has begun polling players on its tour to gauge their opinions on its gender policy. “We believe it is vital to consider the perspectives of those directly affected by these policies,” he wrote. “Furthermore, in maintaining the integrity of our standards, we have requested Hailey Davidson to undergo additional testosterone testing to ensure compliance with the appropriate guidelines.” Davidson told Golfweek that she has no problem with the poll. “At this point, we’re trying anything to see if we can cool the fire down a little,” she said, noting that anti-trans backlash generally comes from “people who aren’t playing.” “It comes with the territory, I suppose,” she said of threats on social media. “Someone who is at home really frustrated with themselves trying to take it out on me. If I don’t laugh, I’m going to be miserable.” Davidson, who began hormone therapy in September 2015 and underwent gender-affirming surgery in January 2021—a requirement under the LPGA’s gender policy—said she has already taken an additional testosterone test and is not worried about meeting NXXT’s guidelines, as she already qualifies under the LPGA and USGA’s gender policies, as McKinnon noted in his statement. In an interview with Sky News, Davidson indicated that she accepts that policies dictating trans athletes’ participation in sports are necessary. “Trans athletes shouldn’t be banned, but at the same time, there needs to be regulations in place because it shouldn’t just be a free-for-all,” she said. “I think with so many topics, we as a society just need to sit down and listen to each other rather than scream at each other and put hatred on it. I think we forget that people are actually humans at the same time.” She also described the controversy around her NXXT win as “selective hatred.” “No one really cares when I’m not playing well, but as soon as you play well, the whole world ends and it’s ‘I’m destroying women’s golf now,’” she said. She echoed that sentiment in a recent Instagram post, in which she also vowed to continue working toward her goal of qualifying for the LPGA Tour. http://dlvr.it/T1q64m

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daimonclub · 1 year ago

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Self-words quotes and aphorisms

Self-words quotes and aphorisms Self-words quotes and aphorisms, quotations, ideas and thoughts, by famous writers and authors, from Self-Acceptance to Self-Interest I don't care so much what I am to others as I care what I am to myself. Michel de Montaigne There is nothing outside of yourself that can ever enable you to get better, stronger, richer, quicker, or smarter. Everything is within. Everything exists. Seek nothing outside of yourself. Miyamoto Musashi The Book of Five Rings Some very important key words for the growth of the human being. First golden rule: you must learn from experience, in general! Then you must always rely on: self-control; politeness; hard-working; self-conscience; self-assessment; self-critical; self-management; self-autonomy; self-determination; self-esteem; self-government; self-independence; self-esteem; self-respect; cooperation; empathy, self-motivation; self-confidence; self-love; pluralism; reciprocity; tolerance; learning to learn; permanent education; rules; law; perseverance; responsibility; pragmatism; honesty; self-sacrifice; self-discipline; and last but not least, a bit of luck! SELF-ACCEPTANCE Our entire life... consists ultimately in accepting ourselves as we are. Jean Anouilh (1910-1987, French playwright) Learn to... be what you are, and learn to resign with a good grace all that you are not. Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881, Swiss philosopher, poet, critic) Accept the place the divine providence has found for you. Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882, American poet, essayist) Those people who are uncomfortable in themselves are disagreeable to others. William Hazlitt (1778-1830, British essayist) The most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely. Carl Jung (1875-1961, Swiss psychiatrist) SELF-ACTUALIZATION Now is the time when your action is practice. The Dalai Lama Only by giving, only by serving, only by doing, do we really do something for ourselves. James W. Frick Our greatest joy and satisfaction comes from the act of giving. Leo Buscaglia (1924-1998, American expert on love, lecturer, author) Only those who have nothing in them have nothing to give. Douglas G. Franklin Men do less than they ought, unless they do all they can. Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881, Scottish philosopher, author) SELF-APPRAISAL Idiots and lunatics see only their own wit. Francois De La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680, French classical writer) Never let your failures go to your heart or your successes go to your head. Author Unknown Self-praise is for losers. Be a winner. Stand for something. Always have class, and be humble. John Madden (1936-, American football coach) SELF-APPRECIATION To accept ourselves as we are means to value our imperfections as much as our perfections. Sandra Bierig I am somebody. I am me. I like being me. And I need nobody to make me somebody. Louis L'Amour (1908-1988, American Western author) SELF-APPROVAL What do we call love, hate, charity, revenge, humanity, forgiveness? Different results of the master impulse, the necessity of securing one's self-approval. Mark Twain (1835-1910, American humorist, writer) I'm not trying to prove anybody wrong, I'm just trying to prove something to myself. Mike Piazza SELF-AWARENESS My mind is my biggest asset. Tiger Woods (1975-, American golfer) Whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: What fault of mine most nearly resembles the one I am about to criticize? Marcus Aurelius Self-awareness gives you the capacity to learn from your mistakes as well as your successes. It enables you to keep growing. Lawrence Bossidy Wisdom tends to grow in proportion to one’s awareness of one’s ignorance.” Anthony de Mello Self awareness is the ability to take an honest look at your life without any attachment to it being right or wrong, good or bad. Debbie Ford I think self-awareness is probably the most important thing towards becoming a champion. Billie Jean King (1943-, American tennis player) The unexamined life is not worth living. Socrates Explore thyself. Herein are demanded the eye and the nerve. Henry David Thoreau Without self-awareness we are as babies in the cradles. Virginia Woolf SELF-CARE Keep taking time for yourself until you are you again. Lalah Delia You can’t always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside. Wayne Dyer You have your own life, why waste it on focusing on others. Nitin Namdeo When you focus on yourself and love yourself, some relationships have to go. Adrian Michael Be you, love you. All ways, always. Alexandra Elle I feel the capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance. Pablo Casals Care is a state in which something does matter; it is the source of human tenderness. Rollo May Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting. William Shakespeare If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete. Jack Kornfield SELF-CONCEPT The term self-concept is a general term used to refer to how someone thinks about, evaluates or perceives themselves. To be aware of oneself is to have a concept of oneself.

Self-words quotes and aphorisms SELF-CONFIDENCE Creativity means believing you have greatness. Wayne Dyer (1940-, American psychotherapist, author, lecturer) The confidence we have in ourselves arises in a great measure from that which we have in others. Francois De La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680, French classical writer) One important key to success is self-confidence. An important key to self-confidence is preparation. Arthur Ashe (1943-1993, African-American tennis player) Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this thing, at whatever cost, must be attained. Madame Marie Curie (1867-1934, Polish-born French physicist) SELF-CONFLICT Whatever you condemn, you have done yourself. Georg Groddeck It's surprising how many persons go through life without ever recognizing that their feelings toward other people are largely determined by their feelings toward themselves, and if you're not comfortable within yourself, you can't be comfortable with others. Sidney J. Harris (1917-, American journalist) It isn't the things that happen to us, it's the things we think are going to happen to us that drive us almost crazy. Kathleen Norris (1880-1966, American novelist) A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, The one I feed the most. On Other Peoples Expectations: The only man who behaved sensibly was my tailor; he took my measurement anew every time he saw me, while all the rest went on with their old measurements and expected them to fit me. George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950, Irish-born British dramatist) SELF-CONSTRAINT Don't be curious of matters that don't concern you; never speak of them, and don't ask about them. St. Teresa of Avila Everybody's business is nobody's business, and nobody's business is my business. Clara Barton (1821-1912, American humanitarian) I listen and give input only if somebody asks. Barbara Bush (1925-, American First Lady, wife of George H. Bush) Too often in ironing out trouble someone gets scorched. Marcelene Cox (American writer) When you borrow trouble you give your peace of mind as security. Myrtle Reed SELF-CONTROL A little kingdom I possess, where thoughts and feelings dwell; And very hard the task I find of governing it well. Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888, American author) If a man doesn't delight in himself and the force in him and feel that he and it are wonders, how is all life to become important to him? Sherwood Anderson (1876-1941 American writer) I count him braver who overcomes his desires than him who conquers his enemies; for the hardest victory is over self. Aristotle (BC 384-322, Greek philosopher) Prudent, cautious self-control, is wisdom's root. Robert Burns (1759-1796, Scottish poet) I never prod my nose into other man's porridge. Miguel De Cervantes (1547-1616, Spanish novelist, dramatist, poet) He who conquers himself is the mightiest warrior. Confucius (BC 551-479, Chinese ethical teacher, philosopher) The highest possible stage in moral culture is when we recognize that we ought to control our thoughts. Charles Darwin (1809-1882, British naturalist) Not to have control over the senses is like sailing in a rudderless ship, bound to break to pieces on coming in contact with the very first rock. Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948, Indian political, spiritual leader) We improve ourselves by victories over ourselves. There must be contest, and we must win. Edward Gibbon (1737-1794, British historian) It is as proper to have pride in oneself as it is ridiculous to show it to others. Francois De La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680, French classical writer) He who controls others may be powerful, but he who has mastered himself is mightier still. Lao-Tzu (BC 600-?, Chinese philosopher, founder of Taoism) He that would govern others, first should be the master of himself. Philip Massinger (1583-1640, British dramatist) He who cannot obey himself will be commanded. That is the nature of living creatures. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900, German philosopher) The first and best victory is to conquer self. To be conquered by self is, of all things, the most shameful and objectionable. Plato (BC 427?-347?, Greek philosopher) To enjoy freedom we have to control ourselves. Virginia Woolf (1882-1941, British novelist, essayist) You can also read this article about The Importance of self-control SELF-DELUSION Don't let self-doubt hold you back! Author Unknown Don't mistake chicken dung for an egg. American Proverb (Sayings of American origin) The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900, German philosopher) The worst thing you can do is start slow, or con yourself into thinking that you can take your time getting into a match. The curtain is up so you've got to perform. Jack Kramer (1918-, American basketball player) I suppose I have a highly developed capacity for self-delusion, so it's no problem for me to believe that I'm somebody else. Daniel Day-Lewis (1958-, British-born American actor) SELF-DENIAL Self-denial is painful for a moment, but very agreeable in the end. Jane Taylor Few men make themselves masters of the things they write or speak. John Selden (1584-1654, British jurist, statesman) Self-denial is not a virtue, it is only the effect of prudence on rascality. George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950, Irish-born British dramatist) Self-denial is indispensable to a strong character, and the highest kind comes from a religious stock. Theodore Parker (1810-1860, American minister) The same people who can deny others everything are famous for refusing themselves nothing. Leigh Hunt (1784-1859, British poet, essayist) Every extreme attitude is a fight from the self. Eric Hoffer (1902-1983, American author, philosopher) SELF-DETERMINATION It was character that got us out of bed, commitment that moved us into action, and discipline that enabled us to follow through. Zig Ziglar (1926-, American sales trainer, author, motivational speaker) I will always stay hungry, never satisfied with current accomplishments. Arnold Schwarzenegger (1947-, Austrian-born American actor, author, director, restaurateur) My will shall shape my future. Whether I fail or succeed shall be no man's doing but my own. I am the force; I can clear any obstacle before me, or I can be lost in a maze. My choice, my responsibility, win or lose, only I hold the key to my destiny. Elaine Maxwell

Self-words post by English-culture SELF-DISCIPLINE Doing your best is more important than being the best. Author Unknown A mind which really lays hold of a subject is not easily detached from it. Ida Tarbell If someone transports dung and does not eat it, it should not be concluded that he is an honest person. Taiwanese Proverb If you can command yourself, you can command the world. Chinese Proverb (Sayings of Chinese origin) If you are willing to discipline yourself, the physical universe won't need to discipline you. Leonard Orr Not being able to govern events, I govern myself, and apply myself to them if they will not apply themselves to me. Michel Eyquem De Montaigne (1533-1592, French philosopher, essayist) He who conquers others is strong. He who conquers himself is mighty. Lao-Tzu (BC 600-?, Chinese philosopher, founder of Taoism) Being professional in whatever you do is important. Talent alone is not enough. Kathy Ireland (1963-, American model) Self discipline is when your conscience tells you to do something and you don't talk back. W. K. Hope You must have discipline to have fun. Julia Child (1912-2004, American gourmet cook, author, and television personality) SELF-DISCORVERY No one is more interesting to anybody than is that mysterious character we all call me, which is why self-liberation, self-actualization, self-transcendence, etc., are the most exciting games in town. Robert Wilson (1941-, American theater director, designer) When we seek to discover the best in others, we somehow bring out the best in ourselves. William A. Ward We discover in ourselves what others hide from us, and we recognize in others what we hide from ourselves. Luc de Clapiers de Vauvenargues Some people say they haven't yet found themselves. But the self is not something one finds; it is something one creates. Thomas Szasz (1920-, American psychiatrist) People travel to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars, and they pass themselves by without wondering. St. Augustine (354-430, Numidian-born bishop of Hippo, theologian) Lose yourself wholly; and the more you lose, the more you will find. St. Catherine of Siena I think somehow we learn who we really are and then we live with that decision. Eleanor Roosevelt (1884-1962, American First Lady, columnist, lecturer, humanitarian) Everything changes when you change. Jim Rohn (American businessman, author, speaker, philosopher) The person who God shows a treasure to must dig it out himself. Czechoslovakian Proverb (Sayings of Czech origin) One must know oneself. If this does not serve to discover truth, it at least serves as a rule of life and there is nothing better. Blaise Pascal (1623-1662, French scientist, religious philosopher) No thinker's thoughts give me as much pleasure as my own. Of course, this does not prove anything in their favor; but on the other hand, I would be foolish to neglect fruits that are tasteful just because they grow on my own tree. Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900, German philosopher) No one has ever learned fully to know themselves. Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe (1749-1832, German poet, dramatist, novelist) Look into the depths of your own soul and learn first to know yourself, then you will understand why this illness was bound to come upon you and perhaps you will thenceforth avoid falling ill. Sigmund Freud (1856-1939, Austrian physician, founder of Psychoanalysis) Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle. Lewis Carroll (1832-1898, British writer, mathematician) Let's dare to be ourselves, for we do that better than anyone else. Shirley Briggs SELF-DOUBT Our self-conceit sustains, and always must sustain us. Samuel Butler (1612-1680, British poet, satirist) SELF-EDUCATION People think of education as something that they can finish. Isaac Asimov School can provide you an education and university can give you a culture, but self-knowledge and self-learning can help you to make a fortune. Carl William Brown Self-education is, I firmly believe, the only kind of education there is. The only function of a school is to make self-education easier; failing that, it does nothing. Isaac Asimov The first thing a student should understand to have success is that of becoming a self-taught man. Carl William Brown Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper or your self-confidence. Robert Frost SELF-ESTEEM SELF-ESTEEM controls PERFORMANCE/REALITY which stimulate SELF-TALK which reinforces SELF-ESTEEM. This cycle can work positively or negatively and is greatly influenced by the self-talk. (I knew I wasn't good at..., next time I'll practice and do better! Author Unknown All the extraordinary men I have known were extraordinary in their own estimation. Woodrow T. Wilson (1856-1924, American President (28th)) Blessed are they who heal us of self-despising. Of all services which can be done to man, I know of none more precious. Read the full article

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yihrae · 1 year ago

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I like Taylor Swift’s music. A lot of people like her music. Does that mean I’m some sort of plebeian for liking her music? Not necessarily. Even if we were to characterise humans by their music taste solely, most people are pretty normal. Since a lot of people like Taylor Swift’s music, we can infer that because a lot of people are normal, most people that like Taylor Swift’s music are probably normal. I’m sure if we did some hypothesis testing we’d prove my point right.

In fact, should we characterise people by their music taste, we should beware of those that like “underground” artists. There are not a lot of people like that, and there are also not a lot of criminals in the world (bingo). Who knows, the next person that likes music like that might just end up burying you underground…

I like HDL. Specifically I love Mantous. Lots of people love HDL. But liking something everyone else likes doesn’t make you any less special. If I were to possess no knowledge of the popularity of all restaurants and I went into each of them and tried all of them, would I still like HDL? The answer is probably yes.

I suppose the real point of this post is really just to say it’s okay to like things everyone else likes. There’s a lot of fruition in enjoying what everyone else enjoys. The most important thing is that those things bring you joy! Of course, different people with have different variations in the things they like. Some people might like Taylor Swift, HDL and soccer and someone else could like Justin Bieber, HDL and soccer but in the end as long as they’re happy that’s the most important thing.

I think sometimes we get so fixated on being different or being the best of the best we kind of lose sight of precious things. I’m not saying we should always accept mediocrity or never strive our hardest but I’m saying that maybe it’s not as bad as a lot of people make it out to be. A lot of the times you can’t be the best in everything. If I were to pick up golf today and I golfed every week for the next 5 years I’d probably just end up an average golfer. I wouldn’t be Tiger Woods or whatever. But sometimes it’s okay to be average. Average golfers can still enjoy golfing with their friends. And if Tiger Woods derives joy from golfing at the highest level you can also derive the same amount, if not more joy from golfing with the people you love.

Anyway, the message of the day is simply not to forget to be happy sometimes. Don’t get so caught up in excellency and uniqueness so as to forget to have fun. Embrace being average (sometimes). It’s okay to have a couple of B+. It’s okay to not be the best of the best. Just enjoy yourself and the company that comes along with it!!

#Spotify

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fromthedeskofthecaptain · 3 years ago

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A review of “Phantom of the Open” by Simon Farnaby.

*******Spoilers******

I saw Simon’s new film on Saturday and have thoughts! This is very spoilery, so only venture on you’re ok with that.

I know zero about golf and only went because it’s 1/6 of a Idiots project, but was also really interested based on the sheer oddness of the events it’s based on. Interested to see what other people thought! 🙂

P.s sorry not to have this under a cut. Can’t work out how to do it on an IPhone. If you know, tell me and I’ll oblige! 🙂

The basic plot…

Ok, so for those who don’t know, the film is based on a book by the same name, written by our Simon and Scott Murray. It’s about a real person, Maurice Flitcroft, (1929-2007) who lived with his wife, step-son and twins in Barrow, a northern town dominated by the Vickers shipyard. At 46 years old in 1976, after being let go from his crane driver’s job, he suddenly decided he was destined to win the most prestigious golf tournament in the UK, the Open. He had never played golf before.

When asked on the entry form to write his handicap (a number that indicates how good you are at golf, apparently, with lower numbers being better) he obviously didn’t have one. As professional golfers are exempt from answering this on the assumption that being a pro means you’re definitely at a certain standard, he decided to register as one of those.

So, did he wow everyone? Was this the underdog story of how practice makes perfect? No. He was dreadful. He stayed dreadful and was so notably bad that for the next five attempts he’d make to enter the first stage of qualifying rounds he had to wear disguises, use fake names and even then, would be rumbled just by how much his playing style and lack of skill stood out. He even pretended to be French and Swiss (not at the same time). He became a wanted man, both by the press, who found him hilarious and good for a human interest story, and the Professional Golf Association, which hated him with the power of 1000 suns for bringing their game into disrepute and taking attention away from the, well, actual golfers. That cat and mouse game makes for the film’s funniest parts. I was super happy to see Mark Lewis Jones (the Welsh language professor from “The Crown”) as his workmate / caddy /supplier of stolen golf outfits… His accent reminds me of my late grandpa.

Anyway….thoughts…

It’s very difficult to craft a story out of a person who ultimately doesn’t learn and grow. He didn’t get any better at golf, didn’t make his peace with not being and move on, and in real life placed significant burdens on his family by focusing on that rather than putting his energies into job-hunting. (That said, his family, according to the book about his life Farnaby also wrote, were supportive).

Also not mentioned in the film but present in the book are accounts of how Flitcroft harmed other golfers chances of reaching the open by distracting them, forcing an abnormally slow pace of play and not observing etiquette. While golf can be stuffy, it’s arguably unfair on everyone who did learn and follow the standards, especially people who were a bit borderline in terms of whether they might’ve made it otherwise. (One of those people is interviewed in the book and is very gracious about it.)

The biggest issue, though, is Morris’s self-awareness. The film treats him as a gentle innocent, who seems not to perceive the level of skill required and so thinks he might have a lucky day, same as anyone else, as if it were the lottery. Simon has said in interviews that he puts it down to a lack of advanced exposure to the golf world - basically the Dunning-Kruger effect. Morris, in other words, was too unskilled to even know what sub-sets of skills good golfers need and recognize that he didn’t have them.

To be honest, whether you fully accept that is the key to whether you’ll enjoy the film. If you do, it’s a story about optimism, the innate value of striving, the supportive, soul-healing feeling of being true to your own dreams and the only way Morris would’ve failed would have been to give up, which he never did.

If you don’t, it’s a very different film for you. Morris can be forgiven for not knowing what it’s going to be like or how he’ll measure up, but by the time he’s been to a bunch of tournaments, been asked to resign for the things I mentioned, and persistently got scores that don’t improve much, surely he’d know. A man who resorts to false names (including Gene Paychecki, as in pay cheque) knows, surely?

So it’s a joke, then? A laugh that can be shared by everyone as they watch Morris move from golf into some kind of knowing comedy or performance art? Noooo! Dude has no sense of humor about it, both in the film and as described in the book. (Watch the TV AM interview of him on a breakfast tv show trying to demonstrate golf on YouTube if you want to see). So what then? Straight-up deluded? Narcissistic? Fending off psychological problems with a specific fixation? At what cost? The film doesn’t go down that road, nor does the book, much. The latter does talk about his tendency to falsely claim achievements throughout his life (he lied about being a champion diver to get into an entertainment group with a diving act) and to become aggressive and silky when asked to follow any sort of rules. Having read the book first, I saw it as a really sad story as much as an uplifting one.

Did he get one over on the establishment? Kind of. He made himself known. He annoyed snobs he probably wanted to annoy (although doing so was a happy side-effect of trying for his dream). Did he actively enjoy the adversarial relationship? Ultimately, it was his skill, not any of the classist or archaic requirements that kept him from doing better.

What could he have been good at if he truly, honestly tried to develop skills from humble, realistic beginnings, rather than pretend to have them? What if he’d mastered his temper (not shown much in the film) and been a more rounded person? Did any part of him feel hurt by those encouraging and writing about him because they enjoyed laughing at him, not from good faith? Did Maurice play himself, in the end?

The film addresses the cost of his fixation up to a point, centering it’s plot structure around the emotional arc of the family relationships. The last act is them coming together again, having fractured in act two over financial stress, his eldest step-son being embarrassed and bullied for his dad’s antics and the younger twins distress at having been encouraged to focus on their dream of disco-dancing, coming home with trophies but not much of a marketable skill set. Disco died, and they had been shown glory only to have it taken away again. Back to the question of “is it better to have tried…?This happens on a trip to the US funded by golfers keen to meet him and name a club trophy after him (for the worst golfer, naturally).

The trip really happened, and was the first time they had been abroad. They’d never have had that without Maurice’s golf, but then it’s hard to say what else they might’ve had instead. Maurice doesn’t change. His character, for better or worse, is pretty static, and it’s other people’s relationships to him that change.

From a script-writing stand point, I think Simon really succeeded at finding a way to create drama and pathos from something that is really interesting but doesn’t lend itself to the emotional satisfaction and closure we want. Anything that’s based on a true story has to deal with how it needs to deviate from strict reality in order to work as a film. There are several stories to tell, and this is probably closer to the one Maurice would want than anything else.

#simon farnaby #phantom of the open #six idiots #idiot projects #golf #films

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cedarlime · 3 years ago

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A rock of gold.

0.0008%.

That’s (approximately) the percentage of humans who live in Bermuda.

That’s not even the percentage of humans who are Bermudian, and could potentially represent the island.

That percentage would be even smaller.

Smaller than 0.0008%.

That percentage of the world’s population has now won an Olympic gold medal.

Sports, particularly professional sports, tend to be a great equalizer. It’s often relatively easy to stand out and shine bright among small pools of talent. Take that talent out of that small pool, and things will start to even out.

Every NBA player, even ‘that guy’ who only plays 1 minute every 3 or 4 games for their NBA team, was a superstar growing up. He was the best player that his hometown ever had, the captain of his teams all through high school. Everyone knew him, and said “he’ll be the best in the world some day. He’s the best player we've ever seen.”

Think of all the best athletes at your high school. The best football player, the best swimmer, the best basketball player.

They’re not even remotely close to the level of ‘that guy’.

‘That guy’ plays 1 minute every 3 or 4 games in the NBA.

I myself have had dreams of playing golf professionally, even turning pro, and competing in a few minor professional tournaments around the world. At my peak, I would estimate I was easily in the top 2% of golfers in the world.

I was never even close to being good enough to make the PGA tour.

Flora Duffy meanwhile, is the best female triathlete in the world.

She was born and raised in Bermuda.

0.0008%.

As ‘underdog’ stories go, this is beyond that.

Bermuda is 24 miles long. That’s the length of just the biking portion of the triathlon. Our entire country is one leg of the race.

Manchester United’s Old Trafford stadium can hold 76,000 spectators. As I’ve walked out of that stadium, I’ve looked around and thought, “My entire country is here…and then some”.

The odds are absolutely staggering.

Most islands, Bermuda obviously included, will tell you that everyone knows everyone. It’s an oft stated joke that (as with most jokes) there lies some truth within.

While I would argue not everyone knows everyone; everyone certainly knows someone to help them know everyone.

What I mean by that is there is usually only one degree of separation in Bermuda: if you don’t know someone, you almost certainly know someone who does.

A medal for Flora, unlike medals for many athletes from mostly all the other countries taking part in the Olympics, feels like it also belongs to us. We feel a part of it.

Flora went to the same schools as I did (she was a year above me), and my brother (who was a very good runner) used to race with her a lot.

I have my Phys. Ed. teachers on social media, who were Flora’s Phys. Ed. teachers growing up too. Imagine how they must feel.

Unlike a medal for a country like the U.S.A, or Great Britain, a medal for Bermuda means something to each and every Bermudian.

Don’t hear what I’m not saying. The medal is hers, and hers alone. The work that Flora has put in throughout the years, the dedication to her craft, and the obstacles she’s overcome, both internal and external, deserve nothing less than this being Flora’s medal.

And yet, it genuinely feels like Bermuda has won a medal too.

Unlike with other (larger) countries, we can feel connected to her success. Every Bermudian, every day, could drive past the school that she went to, and walk the roads she trained on.

We’re only 24 miles long. At any given moment, every Bermudian on the island was within a 24 mile radius of Flora. They might’ve passed her while they were in their car, or sat next to her at a restaurant.

For comparison's sake, someone from California probably has no clue where a medalist from Florida’s town is, let alone their school and street.

We’ve often heard celebrities comment on how much they love being in Bermuda because Bermudians don’t make a fuss over them. I think that comes from a culture that we are ingrained with of “we’re all so close together, anyone could be next to anyone at any given moment.” You could simply go collect takeout food and be behind the Premier of the island, or go to a cricket match and stand next to the Governor.

The proximity of everyone means that nobody is untouchable, invisible, or placed on an artificial pedestal. We are all involved in each other’s lives in some way, shape, or form.

Flora, when she returns home, will visit and hang out with her same friends from primary school. She will go get groceries at the same grocery store as half of the island. She will take a run in the morning and most of the island will drive by her as they head in to work.

She will simply be one of us; and yet she is so much more.

She has beaten the overwhelming odds.

She didn’t enter these Olympics as an underdog. This win didn’t come out of nowhere. She was a favourite to win.

She has been, for a number of years, arguably the best female triathlete in the world; a consistent, dominant, world class athlete.

She is an Olympic Gold medalist, and a hero in every sense of the word.

That an athlete of that caliber can come from 0.0008% is astonishing.

It’s not supposed to happen. Ever. In any field.

Given our size, Bermuda should have never won an Olympic medal or ever had anyone at the absolute top of their field in the world for any sustained amount of time. In anything.

The odds tell you, without any doubt at all, that you should not, in any way, expect to succeed; you should bet on something else.

I guess they've never met a Bermudian.

More specifically, Flora Duffy.

In that case, 0.0008% is plenty.

Congratulations Flora.

#olympics #triathlon #triathlete #gold medal #flora duffy #tokyo 2020 #bermuda #womenstriathlon #goldmedal #tokyo2020 #olympicgames

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hopeshoodie · 4 years ago

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ok so which li’s do you think went to college?

So there’s the explicitly canon ones of Marisol, Rocco, and Blake. But I think it’s also implicit in canon that Lucas and Noah did as well- physiotherapy is a extremely specific degree, and in the States you have to have a masters in library sciences to even be considered for a librarian job (there’s more flexibility for assistants and volunteers, but even then they’re usually students). I honestly love thinking about Noah as a library sciences person, like archival work and methodology is so cool and I wish I had taken more classes about it in school.

But with everyone else, there’s a lot more wiggle room. The people I headcanon as having degrees are Hope, Hannah, Kassam, Elisa, and Ibrahim.

A lot of corporate business stuff, while not really needing a degree in practice, only hire people who have business or related degrees. Especially when Hope’s already an ambassador, she needs the credentials to justify getting hired. I can see her having done an undergraduate/MBA combined program and having a degree in communications or business merchandizing.

Hannah definitely has a degree in communications and a minor in English. She just oozes pretentious college girl vibes. I’ve met four of her in literature and philosophy classes, and they’re always working on the next american novel (but don’t actually have any of it written).

Kassam just gives me the vibe of someone who grew up in a relatively well-educated and upper class family, went to college, then decided to pursue his passion. I bet his parents had an agreement like ‘you can do whatever you want, just get a degree first’. He might’ve studied music (I love the concept of him being a fine arts major in like… violin or something but then only making EDM or vaporwave music), but I bet he has a ‘respectable’ humanities degree like sociology or geography and just never uses it or talks about it.

I don’t have a reason for Elisa, I just /feel/ like she’s super smart. Lowkey I love the idea of her studying algorithms or psychology in application to social media and then applying it to her job. I very much get a Paris Hilton vibe from her, where she puts on this very bubbly airheaded persona but is really smart and strategic.

In the US, golf is a sport like… Exclusively for upper middle class and rich people. Also in the US, the massive class divide is often the level of education or specific university you’re accepted to and attend. So like, golfers are more likely to be rich and rich people almost always have degrees from fancy private universities. I can see Rahim attending a prestigious private university, with the way he dresses and carries himself. Because it doesn’t matter what you major in, I headcanon that he got a degree in film or literature because he’s always loved narratives and storytelling.

The people I headcanon has having completed some university but never finished their degree are Shannon, Carl, maybe Graham, and Jakub.

I think Shannon originally went for something like statistics, syllogism, or math and then realized that she hated the environment. She’s a ‘work hard play hard’ kind of person, and I don’t see her finding a lot of people willing to match that energy but still make it to class the next morning. She also realized that she could make more money without a degree, and that was the nail in the coffin.

Carl probably tried to take a computer sciences degree then realized the university he went to had a really outdated curriculum and he could learn more in online communities and through experience than formal coding classes.

I imagine Graham always wanted to be a marine biologist (which is why he takes fish puns so seriously) but then really struggled to support himself in school and also realizing that there’s fewer and fewer jobs in academia. He took a work study program on a crab ship to study the impact on certain species and realized he enjoyed the physical aspects of the work more than the intellectual. He’s still passionate about conservation, though.

Jakub gives me the vibe that maybe he was originally a legitimate personal trainer- going to school for it and getting licensed, but then got caught up in the ‘balling’ lifestyle on Instagram where it becomes less about fitness and more about pulling chicks.

Then everyone else ~might~ have gone to uni, but I don’t think they did.

Most realtors I work with don’t have bachelor degrees but they do have special training for their licenses, so I can see Priya having that but not a university degree.

Garebear probably has training specific to his job but not a formal degree

You can get a degree in interior design, but Chelsea doesn’t really strike me as the kind of designer with a fine arts degree. I bet she built her clientele base from the bottom up and was more self-made than that.

I’m thinking that Jo, Bobby, Felix, Lottie, Arjun, and Henrik all started work right after high school or whatever the equivalent is.

#re-reading this is hope it's not sounding condescending at all #you don't have to go to college to be a smart person and you're not a smart person just because you went to college #I love and adore Henrik #it's not like the ones who didn't go to school are worse people

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princeescaluswords · 4 years ago

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*adds the stylish Fandom logic hat to my ensemble today* Why didn't the knowledgeable and wise Left Hand Peter emerge from his coma to provide wise counsel to Stiles and train him in using his spark?

Because it didn’t exist.

That’s the simplest answer. It’s actually quite a boring answer, really, but the why behind the question is far more interesting. First, I’m going to reproduce the offending passage.

Deaton: Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles.

Stiles: If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that.

Deaton: Let me try a different ANALOGY. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish.

My emphasis.

This scene was very important to the story of Teen Wolf, but as is a depressingly often occurrence, fandom took the scene and ran with it in the absolute opposite direction.

Stiles isn’t supernatural at this point. He is human. So are Deaton, and Morrell, and Henri, and Melissa. So are the Argents. With force of will, camaraderie, and the appropriate knowledge, humans can be every bit the equal of supernatural creatures.

Think about how the production talks about knowledge. How it’s always better when they know. How knowledge brings with it responsibility. How the pack’s first instinct is to find out more and they get in trouble when they can’t learn abou their enemies “They’re winning and we don’t even know what the game is.”

Scott doesn’t defeat the villains because he’s stronger than his enemies. He’s not. He defeats them because he’s wise enough to surround himself with people who know things, who trust him and he trusts them, and because he never gives up.

“Scott doesn’t care about power, he cares about people.”

It is an implicit rejection of the virtue of power in and of itself. Seems like a very simple idea, doesn’t it? That what we choose to do and how we treat people are more important than what we are capable of doing.

Take the conclusion of Lunar Ellipse (3x12). Going into that scene, Scott was a beta, but Scott isn’t a True Alpha because he was able to break a line of mountain ash. He was able to break a line of mountain ash because he was a True Alpha. And why? Because he was able to blind Deucalion because he didn’t reject Allison and Chris as “evil Argents,” so he was willing to take an evil old man’s pain to learn the knowledge he needed. He was able to put aside his problems with Derek in order to earn his trust, so Derek rejected Jennifer’s desire for revenge. He wasn’t alone facing the Darach and the Demon Wolf. Jennifer was far more powerful than he was. Deucalion was insanely more powerful than he was. But he had the right people on his side “My Pack,” he believed in Derek, and he trusted Chris and Allison.

We could go through every season and do the same calculus.

Then why does fandom try to turn Stiles into the Sparkiest-Spark-of-All-Sparks? Why do they try to turn Peter into the Left Hand of the Mighty Hale Pack? Why are they obsessed with making Derek an alpha again, when he was miserable and terrible at being one the first time?

Because not a single one of those scenarios require their beloved white men to trust other people or treat them as more important than themselves. They can kill as they desire, they can ignore anyone else’s wants and needs but their own, and if someone objects, they can bully them into submission.

Read carefully. Alpha Derek only has to listen to his High Spark Mate and no one else. Left Hand Peter knows what’s best for the rest of the Pack without consulting them. Betas exist to stand around in the background approvingly. I was reading a good-friend Scott story (Scott McCall is a Good Friend is one of those worthless tags). You know what Scott as a beta in that story, did? Stiles tossed him the car keys twice and ordered him to drive people around.

It’s why they call Scott weak, because he doesn’t ignore the people around him. it’s why they call Scott arrogant for not ‘ending the threats’ because he understands that he doesn’t have the right to execute people, that it is dangerous and damaging to see execution as a means or protecting yourself. it’s why they say that Scott never listens to Stiles, because Scott listens to other people as well as himself. It’s why they despise that Scott listens to Deaton, even though they can’t point out a single bit of bad advice Deaton selflessly gave him.

The same can’t be said for Peter Hale, which is why your scenario would only happen if Peter could figure out a way to use Stiles to his own ends.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf racism #power fantasy #scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad #russianspacegeckosexparty

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niallloverontheloose · 4 years ago

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https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/647812292363386880/adds-the-stylish-fandom-logic-hat-to-my-ensemble#notes

@russianspacegeckosexparty: *adds the stylish Fandom logic hat to my ensemble today* Why didn’t the knowledgeable and wise Left Hand Peter emerge from his coma to provide wise counsel to Stiles and train him in using his spark?

@princeescaluswords:

Because it didn’t exist.

That’s the simplest answer. It’s actually quite a boring answer, really, but the why behind the question is far more interesting. First, I’m going to reproduce the offending passage.

Deaton: Not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It’s just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles.

Stiles: If you mean light myself on fire, I don’t think I’m up for that.

My emphasis.

This scene was very important to the story of Teen Wolf, but as is a depressingly often occurrence, fandom took the scene and ran with it in the absolute opposite direction.

“Scott doesn’t care about power, he cares about people.”

We could go through every season and do the same calculus.

The same can’t be said for Peter Hale, which is why your scenario would only happen if Peter could figure out a way to use Stiles to his own ends.

Lmfao @ Scott Stans feeling so threatened by the Dark Stiles/Void Stiles and Druid/Magic/Emissary Stiles tropes because of the “power imbalance”, as if Scott McCall’s True Alpha Maleness isn’t the cheapest, most blatant case of self-insert power fantasy EVER 😂🤣

Pew should just admit he can’t stand other Teen Wolf characters being canonically more powerful and badass than his bland True Alpha fav Scoot and fuck off

Also: “Scott doesn’t defeat the villains because he’s stronger than his enemies”

What villain did Scott defeat exactly? He literally failed to kill a terminally ill old man who’s already dying, and he never even fought with Deucalion…

#anti scott mccall #anti tyler posey #submission

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tristanlovesthequeen · 4 years ago

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The Paddock

Tristan Chase Sparrowe

11/25/2016

The Bull

One day in the fall of autumn, when the moon is high and bright, orange in hue and full in complexion, when the clouds hang oppressively low in the sky I wandered through the meadow to the buffalo paddock, newly installed by decree of the mayor of San Francisco about two months ago.

The headlines in the newspaper were all the same, dismal in hue, recording the afterthoughts of the Mayor. “'The park commissioners expect soon to procure a buffalo cow who will lighten the hours of his confinement,' Harrison says”. Tomorrow the buffalo, Anastasius will be married to his bride-to-be, a new import from a ranch in Wyoming, where my uncle lives with his wife, and a dog, where they have retired and where my uncle hunts and participates in environmental conservation.

It's brisk, with many clouds of smoke blowing from the corners of my mouth into the Fall air. The grass has just been clear cut, and the smell invades my nostrils. The dew from the morning and previous evening cling to the individual hordes of grass scintillating in the dawn evening light. I have been up for a day and a night approximately and everything seems to vibrate around me.

I am here with a specific purpose. No one is around the buffalo paddock the night after Thanksgiving, the city itself is deserted, let alone the park and its many intertwining trails. I could walk for miles on these days in San Francisco, traversing the entire seven by seven without seeing a single person.

I reached into my backpack and extracted a long pair of bolt cutters I had purchased for a penny at Goodman Lumber two days ago.

A swift look to my left, and to my right, and into the stable at Anastasius as he sleeps. The strong bull grunts and twitches in his sleep as steam puffs from his nostrils. His side rises and falls as he breathes and his ears twitch a bit. It is a pity for such a sculptural beast to be imprisoned as he waits for a wedding he has no say in and a migration pattern that is now limited to across the paddock. Either way, an option might be a change of pace for him. A change of scenery, a chance to spread his wings before wearing his proverbial wedding ring around his hoof.

A link in the chain link fence snaps open and then another, and another as I make an archway about the size of an Ort cloud in the distance. Finally the metal links curl like a pad of melted butter to the wet grass. Anastasius sighs deeply and continues his dream. I ponder where he might be in his mind for a moment. The plains with his kin, avoiding native species of humans and the great white hunters of the fields where they used to graze. Possibly butting heads with an alpha male or turning on his heels to run. In space or in a hell like place, with demons floating above his massive cranium. An endless pasture where he sits in a cloud of cow fermones, butterflies braiding his mane.

I find myself walking a few paces ahead, erstwhile extracting the axe from a loop in the lining of my coat. I question my motives one last time before raising the axe above my head and, hearing the blade glint I let it fall into a mass of decomposing wood that surrounds the buffalo encasement. A crack resounds and a group of black birds flutter into the air squeaking as they fly. Anastasius stirs. I let the blade strike again, over and over until I break a hole in his cage. I kick the horizontal beams until they become diagonal and finally...

The bull's eye catches my attention. He has been watching me for some time. I breathe “You're free now lil' buddy,” and continue to circle around back towards the hole in the cyclone fence. Anastasius whines a bit. And grunts again.

I consider my motives and consider this new found freedom that I now share with the bull. It never felt like optimism to free the bull, just felt like a circumstance, a necessity, of the era that I live in. The symbolism of this pack animal now caged by himself, a migratory creature that is now forced to stay in one place. A metaphor for the elimination of the Native Americans who relied so heavily on the existence of the herd. And the grasses that cultivated with the motion of the species, and now wanes due to it's disappearance. What a pity. I wonder why he does not leap anymore, if he is lacking some sort of bacterial family in his gut or if his brain is lacking a certain chemical, why he has accepted his fate as a caged being, why he does not call out or try to create an alliance with a human to help facilitate his escape.

A mild panic surges through my veins and works its way into my knees making me weak for a spell. I tuck all my tools and hike back towards the main road. I decide to wait for a moment by a streetlamp and spark up a cigarette.

I think about the stars for a moment and try to locate Orion's belt. Somehow when compared to the power of the cosmos, my own worldly problems seem immaculately minuscule. And then came a dull rustle from the bushes lining the Fulton street border of the park. Anastasius slowly emerges from the darkness, then pauses, kicking his hind legs out to stretch. One, and then the other. A glow from my cigarette and the plume of smoke from my lungs catches his attention and he freezes.

Now that nothing is separating myself from such a large powerful animal I feel the weakness in my knees again and somehow the cigarette's effects seem more intense. I lower my head a bit to acknowledge his presence and say “fair thee well monsieur.” He lowers his head back at me and then he trots off in the direction of Ocean Beach.

His silhouette pirouettes and fades into the darkness of the night. When I arrive home I undress and lay in bed, and count to slow down my brain. Again I imagine the distance of the night sky, the size and millions of stars in the sky, compare them to the personalities here on earth and the endless multitudes of people. Once again I feel terribly small. Eventually I drift off and I, too am one with the cosmos.

The next day is the opening ceremony of the arrival of the new bison to the paddocks. Anastasius is to have a wife.

I make my way towards the modest crowd of people who have showed up to see the young bull procure a new wife. News teams are there and flashbulbs take snapshots of the Mayor arriving and emerging from his Lincoln town car led by police escort.

No one seems to suspect that Anastasius is not present, then again no one seems to care. The mayor stands up on a soapbox and gives a short speech, then motions like a circus conductor with his left hand to the truck containing the cow. Two men stationed on either side of the truck wearing overalls boots and golfers caps let down a metal ramp and a gate to the flatbed.

The cow, Anastasia, seems to be alarmed by the noise of the cheers of the crowd and the visage of a small excited yapping dog. She immediately starts to gallop into the paddock making a swift round and then charging out of the hole in the fence that I had cut the night before.

The music from the bandstand stops and the crowd gasps. The mayor throws his pork-pie hat to the ground and starts to shout at his assistants. A moment passes and sirens from firetrucks and police vehicles start to whine.

A large gap toothed grin stretches across my face. I laugh for a moment and then my forehead crinkles and I start to grimace. I don't pretend to understand what is going to happen to the bison nor do I feel guilt about setting them free. Seeing this crowd in a frenzy sets me off in an opposite trajectory from the crowd and the escaped cow.

That night at home with a hot toddie sitting by my wood burning stove with the neighborhood cat, Noodles, listening to the radio, the broadcast starts to announce, “In other news, police officials say they located the escaped buffalo which were to be married today on Ocean Beach and Ortega. The bull, Anastasius, and the cow, Anastasia were standing near the sea foam giving each other Eskimo kisses when authorities arrived. The mayor arrived shortly thereafter to find the police troop crying tears of joy. The band played “Auld lang syne” and the mayor hugged his wife. The mayor's assistants opened bottles of champagne and as the corks flew into the air the buffalo walked side by side down the coast.”

Noodles meowed and rolled around on his back.

Bibliography

1) http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/Oldest-bison- at-Golden- Gate-Park- dies-at- 22-

5870761.php

2) http://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/Golden-Gate- Park-baby- bison-found- dead-

2443708.php

3) https://localwiki.org/sf/Golden_Gate_Park_Buffalo_Paddock

4) http://www.foundsf.org/index.php?title=Buffalo

http://poormagazine.org/node/5456

http://sheriffmichaelhennessey.com/Sheriffs_Stories/Getting_Buffaloed.html

“12 Short Stories of the Bison in Golden Gate Park.” JSTOR web article.

The Bison or Buffalo in the United States. The Indiana Quarterly Magazine of History, Vol 6. No.3 (September, 1910) pp. 114-117. Trustees of Indiana University. Http://www.jstor.org/stable/27785281. JSTOR web article.

Poaching Pictures Yellowstone. Buffalo and the Art of Wildlife Conservation. Alan C. Braddock. American Art, Vol 23, No.3 (Fall 2009), pp.36-59. The University of Chicago Press on behalf of the Smithsonian Institution.Http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1086/649775. JSTOR web article.

#Tristan Chase Arcelona

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fandomrewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Season 2; Episode 8: Raving

Hello all! Sorry I’m updating a day late! But after last chapter you now know who (Y/N) is starting to like; Isaac! I love Isaac and as I was writing season 2 I knew I wanted them to either have a really good friendship or develop some romantic feelings for each other. I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always constructive criticism is appreciated.

Season 2; Episode 8: Raving

Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: mention of sex

Word Count: 2,598

Season 2 Masterlist

I was with Scott in the animal clinic waiting for Derek to arrive. Finally, after what felt like hours, though it was probably only about ten minutes, Scott opened the front door. He stepped aside to let Derek and Isaac in.

“What’s he doing here?” Scott questioned the Alpha.

“I need him.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“He doesn’t trust you either.” Isaac replies, sending a glare to my twin before looking back at me with a smirk covering his lips.

“And Derek doesn’t care.” Derek quickly says, stopping any arguing. “Now where’s the vet and is he going to help us or not?”

“That depends.” Dr. Deaton answers, making his presence known to the werewolves. “Your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?”

“Save him.” Scott and I answer together.

At the same time Derek and Isaac say, “Kill him.”

Without missing a beat Scott and I send a glare to the two, Scott once again repeats, “Save him.”

We all move to the exam room after Dr. Deaton gets reassured that we will not be killing Jackson. We watch as the vet unlocks a drawer to reveal dozens of glass jars, different grains and petals inside each.

Derek is drawn to the Celtic symbols on each of the jars: a Triqueta, an Awen, Taranis wheel and others. Isaac reaches out to touch one of the jars but before his hand reaches Derek grabs his wrist, stopping him. “Watch what you touch.” The Alpha scolds his Beta.

Deaton takes out one of the jars with a symbol of a shield knot on it and looks at the contents inside.

“What are you? Some kind of witch?” Isaac asks.

“No, I’m a veterinarian. But I do have experience treating an unusually wide variety of animals.”

I scoff, “You’re telling me.”

Deaton sends me a small smile as he places the jar back down. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure if anything here is going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin.”

“We’re open to suggestions.” Derek says.

“How about an effective offense?” Isaac asks.

“We tried.” Derek answers then turns his head to the vet, “I nearly ripped its head off and Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up. If anything, I think it’s getting stronger.”

“Great, just what we need.” I mumble out, rolling my eyes at the thought of the Kanima getting stronger.

“Has it shown any weaknesses?” Deaton asks.

“One. It’s either afraid of water or can’t swim.” I answer, glancing at Derek as he nods in agreement.

“Does that go for Jackson as well?”

I immediately shake my head, “No. He’s on the swim team.”

Deaton pauses, thinking for a moment. He then removes a new item from the drawer. It’s an old, scratched steel pendant. “Essentially you’re trying to catch two people. A puppet and puppeteer.”

He places the odd piece on the table. “One killed the husband. But the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?”

“I don’t think Jackson could do it.” Scott speaks up, “His mother died pregnant too. She might have been murdered. I think he couldn’t let the same thing happen to someone else.”

“How do you know it’s not part of the rules? The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson killed the wife, the baby would have died too.” Isaac says.

“Then doesn’t that mean your father was a murderer?” Scott questions, looking at Isaac with confusion evident on his face.

“Wouldn’t surprise me if he was.” Isaac simply answers.

I glance at him biting my lip, I can’t imagine having a parent that horrible. And my dad definitely wasn’t great but I would take him any day compared to what Isaac had to go through.

Isaac raises his eyes, feeling my gaze on him. He lightly smiles and gives me a stiff nod, like he’s telling me he’s alright and better off without him gone.

Derek’s voice breaks me from my thoughts, “But the Bestiary said if the bond’s strong enough, it’ll kill whoever the master wants it too.”

“Hold on.” Deaton replies, “The book says they’re bonded. What if the fear of water isn’t coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him?”

Deaton pulls another jar from the drawer, this one is filled with gray ash. The symbol on it is for Rown. Deaton unscrews the lid and begins lightly pouring out the contents around the amulet he previously placed on the table.

He then continues to speak, “That could mean the same properties that affect a creature like the Kanima will also affect its human Master.”

“And what does that mean?” Isaac asks.

“It means we can catch them.” Scott answers, “Both of them.”

*_*_*_*_*_*

In school the next day I was talking with Lydia by our lockers, “So you have a date?” She asks with a smirk.

I roll my eyes, “It’s not a date. I told him I’m not ready for that but I’d be happy to go with him as friends.”

“Seriously (Y/N/N), whether you believe it’s a date or not, I’m happy you’re getting back out there. You’re gorgeous and need to get laid.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I a not planning on having sex with him. I don’t even want to kiss him.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like Matt is bad looking. Definitely not my type and you could do better. But for a little fling, it could be fun.”

“Speaking of a little fling...” I trail off, my eyes meeting Isaac’s from across the hall. A small smile falls on to my lips when he starts smirking, clearly hearing what I said.

Lydia turns her head to see who I’m looking at, “You and Isaac?”

I bite my lip and tear my eyes away, turning back to Lydia, “We made out. And I honestly wouldn’t be disappointed if something more happened.”

I glance at him again seeing his smirk grow at my words. “But you’re going out on a date with someone else?” Lydia asks, now confused.

“It’s not a date, Lyds. And I said yes, to hanging out as friends, before Isaac and I kissed.”

Lydia held her hands up, “Hey I’m not judging. I bet if you gave more people the time you would easily see that there are more than just those two interested in you.”

“Hmm.” I hum, “Probably, but you’re one to talk. Miss prettiest girl in school.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, “I think we may tie for that honor.”

I laugh, “Sure, let’s go with that.” I glance back at Isaac who subtly nods his head and starts walking away, “I’ll see you later Lyds.”

She nods as I walk away, moving towards Isaac. I look around with a small frown on my lips. “Where did he go?” I mumble out starting to move once more. I then feel a hand wrap around my wrist pulling me into an empty classroom. The door closes once I am safety inside.

“I for one, think you’re the prettiest girl in school.” I instantly roll my eyes and lightly shove Isaac’s chest.

“That was cheesy.” I reply as I wrap my arms around his neck. Before he has the chance to reply I gently bring his head down to attach my lips to his. We only break apart when the bell rings. I let out a groan at the sound, not wanting this moment to end.

Isaac lightly chuckles and nudges his nose against my neck. He then presses feather light kisses on my exposed neck and collar-bone as I hum in content and my eyes flutter closed. “We should get to class.” He finally speaks up, though he doesn’t break apart.

“It’s my free period. And you’re already late, might as well skip.” I smirk.

He lets out another laugh, his head falling back and blue eyes lighting up. It brings a smile to my face as I watch him, “You should laugh more. It sounds nice.”

His eyes meet mine once more, “Well if I spend more time with you then you’ll probably be hearing it more often.” We share a smile before he leans back down and reattaches our lips.

*_*_*_*_*_*

Later that day, I was once again in the vet clinic but this time without Derek and Isaac. In their place was Stiles instead. Deaton holds up a vial of clear liquid. We step forward to get a better look. “Ketamine?” Scott asks.

“Same thing we use on dogs. Just a higher dosage.” Deaton confirms. He then hands Scott the vial and a hypodermic, “If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time.”

“Ketamine for the Kanima.” We all throw Scott questioning glances and upon seeing our faces he mutters, “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.”

Deaton then places a glass jar in front of Stiles, it’s filled with the same gray ash from yesterday. “This is a sample of what you’ll use to create the barrier. Now, this part is for you, Stiles and (Y/N).”

My eyes slightly widen, “Does it need to be both of us? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get away from Matt for that long.”

“No, but it needs to be one of you.”

I turn to Stiles who sighs, “That sounds like a lot of pressure. Could we find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?”

Deaton pours a little bit of the ash into his hand to allow Stiles to get a closer look. “It’s from a mountain ash tree which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with mountain ash wood which makes it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble.”

“So I spread this around the whole building and neither Jackson or whoever’s controlling him won’t be able to cross?” Stiles questions.

Deaton nods, “They’ll be trapped.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard.” Scott says.

“That’s not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder. It’s just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles.” Deaton continues.

“If you mean light myself on fire, I’m not sure I’m up for that.”

I giggle and shake my head at the brunette boy. Dr. Deaton speaks up once more, “Let me try a different analogy. I used to play golf. What’s interesting about the best golfers is they never swing without first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind. And their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish.”

“Force of will.” Stiles repeats the words the vet said.

“If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it.’

Stiles nods, keeping his gaze locked on the jar of mountain ash, a determined look on his face.

*_*_*_*_*_*

I picked Matt up, having borrowed my moms car for the night. I pull into a space outside the warehouse. As we step out of the car Matt turns to me, “Sorry I couldn’t drive. My dad usually lends me the car.”

I smile, “No worries. I actually really like driving so...” I shrug as I trail off. There is a brief moment of awkward silence. Matt then holds out his hand to me, I lick my lips as I hesitantly take it, readjusting my tank top with my other hand.

Once inside the building the music blasts and my eyes move around to try and spot Jackson or really anyone else that I know.

Finally my eyes meet Matt’s “Did you want to dance?” I question with an awkward smile.

Though Matt doesn’t seem to notice how awkward I seem as he nods his head and moves with me into the crowd.

We bob along to the music, my eyes still moving throughout the room. Once my attention is back on Matt he opens his mouth to say something, but due to the loud volume of the music I can’t make out the words.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks once more, miming drinking from a cup.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.” I nod and watch as he moves to another part of the crowded room.

With Matt now gone, I quickly move to blend in with the crowd more. Still dancing to the music so I don’t stick out like a sore thumb.

I finally spot Isaac carrying a limp Jackson, Erica right behind them. I rush over and step into the door with them, “Where’s Scott? I thought he was going to do this?” I question.

“The Argents are here. He said he needed to talk to them.” Isaac replies. Then he glances at me, “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

I groan, “It’s not a date. Though I should probably go find him. You two will be okay here?”

The two werewolves nod in agreement. So I turn to leave the room and try to find Matt.

Finally spotting the photography loving boy I make my way over, “Sorry! I got a call from my dad.”

He gives me a questioning glance as he hands me my drink, “It’s fine. Though I never hear you or Scott mention your dad?”

“Uh yeah. It’s... It’s complicated.” I stutter out.

Matt just nods. Once the drinks are finished he hold out his hand once more, “Let’s dance some more? Try and get closer to the DJ?”

“Yeah, sounds good!” I take his hand once again, letting him pull me through the crowd.

We once again start dancing within the crowd. My eyes are still drifting around looking at the people around us, this time more out of awkwardness than trying to spot someone I know.

“You’re not having a good time.” Matt states.

I turn to look at him with shock evident on my face, “Sorry.” I apologize, grimacing.

“What’s wrong?” He questions.

I shrug, “I just have a lot on my mind.” I pause for a brief moment then continue, “Do you ever feel like you have the best intentions but you’re just making mistake after mistake?”

“No. Unlike the rest of humanity Im perfect.”

I smile at the joke, glad that he’s trying to distract me. But the smile is quickly wiped off my face as Matt leans in for a kiss. I lurch back in surprise, “Oh God. That was the worst mistake ever. I’m so totally sorry.”

I shake my head, “No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay but I...” I take a breath and point behind me, “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Instead of going to the bathroom though I quickly make my way back to the storage room that Jackson is locked in. Just as I reach out to open the door, Stiles, Isaac and Erica run through it. Slamming the door shut as soon as everyone, aside from Jackson, is out.

“Find something to block the door.” Stiles says. But before anyone can follow through, the wall next to the door explodes outwards as Jackson crashes through it.

“What the hell just happened?” I question in shock.”

“He’s a lot stronger than we thought.” Stiles simply answers.

We all rush out, the three others trying to figure out what happened to Jackson while I reluctantly try to find Matt once more. Knowing that i can’t hide from him forever, I am his ride home after all.

#teen wolf imagine #series rewrite #sister mccall imagine #lydia martin imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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ifanfictiondreamerworld · 4 years ago

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Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles: The Polaris Epidemic-Part 7

Soon enough, they arrived within a specific area. From there, they landed near where Qwark landed his ship. As soon as they got out of theirs, they walked up next to Qwark. He stood near a ledge atop a hill, looking out towards a massive meadow before them. Kim: "Whoa, just…look at this place." Ratchet: "I know, he already got started on messing up this entire area." Clank: "Hm, I do detect multiple readings of dangerous and otherworldly plant life." Ratchet: "Looks like Duff Killigan has polluted this planet with a lot of these monster plants." Qwark: "This place looks awesome! I can't wait to get started playing on it!"

Ratchet looked at Qwark in an agitated manner. Ratchet: "Qwark, could you not be a clueless moron for once? This golf course is illegal; it needs to be shut down now!" Qwark: "Uh…what's going on, exactly?"

Ratchet placed his hand on his head in frustration and grunted. Ratchet: "Seriously, what are we going to do with you?" Kim: "If you would have stayed in Meridian City long enough to hear the entire briefing, then you would know exactly what is going on here." Qwark: "It's a massive golf course being set up on the entire planet. What more is there to know?" Kim: "Really, Qwark? Even you can't be THAT stupid!" Ratchet: "This golf course is being set up by another one of Kimberly's old foes; some Scottish golf loving nutcase named Duff Killigan." Qwark: "So, this amazingly awesome golf course is built by that girl's enemies? Huh, who knew? Hm…come to think of it…it does look awfully dangerous…and terrifying!" Kim: "Well, he does call himself "The World's Deadliest Golfer"." Qwark: "Uh…of this world?" Ratchet: "Hm, I think she was referring to her home planet Earth!" Qwark: "Oh, Earth. That…uh…that's a home planet to the humans?" Ratchet: "THE home planet of the humans!" Qwark: "Oh, right, they only live on one planet. I…forgot. Hold on a moment. Did you guys say that this golf course is illegal? Then that means…we have ourselves a super villain on our hands!" Ratchet: "Gee, it's amazing just how quickly you catch on to things, Qwark." Qwark: "Don't mention it. Now then, come on, guys. We have an evildoer to thwart."

He ran towards a ledge in front of them and jumped down. Qwark: "Wheeee!" Kim: "Great, now there are 2 oversized nutcases to deal with this time: 1 we have to baby-sit and the other we have to foil." Ratchet: "Yeah, I'm not looking forward to this, either, Kimberly. Come on, let's get this over with."

Kim switched on the Kimmunicator. Kim: "Wade?" Wade: "I know. Hang on, I'll have her transported over to you now."

Wade's vendor appeared again. Transported from it was the infobot. She morphed into her backpack form and reattached herself to Kim's back. Clank did the same with Ratchet. They both jumped down and continued on.

They made their way down the hill towards the golf course. There, they stood before Duff Killigan as he continued to build his golf course. Almost immediately, he noticed them. Duff: "Oy! Kim Possible! I con see thet you have made sum alien friends, just like they say you did." Qwark: "Stand down, evildoer; your days of building dangerous and illegal golf courses on other planets are over! Even though…this is…the second planet that you're attempting to build one, but we will see to it that you will never build one on another planet again and yes, I mean "attempt" because that will be as far as you will be allowed to go…or something…like that…um…" Kim: "Qwark, please, just stop." Ratchet: "Well, this is a great first impression to meeting another of your enemies for the first time in years." Duff: "Uh…who be this…yammerin' ijit?" Kim: "That's Captain Qwark. He's what you would call a would-be hero…" Ratchet: "At best." Qwark: "Hey, who are you guys calling a "would-be" hero? I'm an absolute, bona-fide prime cut hero." Ratchet: "Right…and I'm…still unimpressed."

He giggled with Kim. Ratchet: "But let's forget about that for a minute. So, you're Duff Killigan? You're known as the "World's Deadliest Golfer"? Heh, I've always known that Kimberly fought against a lot of nutcases, but you are a real basket case; heard you got banned from competing in several golf tournaments because you've thrown too many hissy fits. Ever heard of anger management or perhaps you're far too unstable for that?"

As Ratchet continued on, Duff Killigan became more and more enrage. Ratchet: "And if that's the case, it's no wonder you turned to crime and villainy. You're every bit insane enough to have become another criminal."

Duff Killigan, greatly enraged, growled out loud. Duff: "Why you…! Fer a wee, lil space mouse, you sure have a big mouth on you that as well as a sharp tongue." Ratchet: "Why, thank you. I greatly appreciate you noticing that. By the way, I'm a Lombax and FYI, I'm more so a feline than a rodent." Kim: "Uh, yeah, Lombaxes are indeed a species that are very much cat-like." Ratchet: "Oh, and another thing, what's with the skirt? Couldn't find a decent pair of pants to go with that stupid looking hat?"

Duff became even more frustrated from Ratchet's snarky comment. Duff: "It's not a skirt! It's a kilt! A kilt, you snarky lil…! It's no doubt that you're a perfect match fer the lass over there. You're both extremely agitatin'!" Kim: "Hm, compared to a lot of other things that I've heard, I think I'll take that as a compliment." Ratchet: "Huh, I feel the same way." Duff: "Oy! Then how about ye take this as well!?"

With the use of his golf club, he swung and hit some of his explosive golf balls at them. Kim: "Incoming!"

They jumped out of the way and managed to dodge their explosions successfully. Ratchet: "Whoa! Explosive golf balls!?" Kim: "Well, Wade did mention that he has explosives on him." Ratchet: "Oh, right, of course, golf-based weaponry, because he's a golf fanatic. Should have known." Clank: "I suppose that he is teed off. (giggle)"

Duff was seen rushing off towards the far end of the golf course. As soon as he made it over, many of the vicious plants emerged from everywhere. Duff was seen jumping for joy while laughing. Duff: "Let's see if you can put a stop to my golf course this time, Kim Possible." Kim: "Geez, this looks a lot more lethal than his previous one." Ratchet: "Any chance that he would change his alias to the "Deadliest Golfer in the Universe"?" Qwark: "No evil plant infested golf course shall stand between me and justice, evil golf loving criminal. After him!"

They rushed right into the golf course. Everywhere, they were bombarded constantly by the plants. They fought through the best that they could but there were just too many of them. Ratchet: "This is really bad! We just can't handle fighting off all of these plants!" Clank: "Hm…I am detecting a 7.9% increase in this obstructive vegetation. That amount will elevate gradually within a very short period of time." Ratchet: "Oh, man! We need to get rid of these things now!"

Kim contacted Wade immediately. Kim: "Wade, we have a massive problem on our hands! These plants are everywhere and we can't fight them off for long! We're not going to last much longer out here!" Wade: "Hang on, let me look into something that may help you guys out." Ratchet: "If at all possible, could you please hurry, you know, before we're dead!?" Wade: "I know, sometime before too late. I'll see what I can find."

As they continued cutting through, Duff Killigan whacked more seeds into the field like golf balls with the use of his golf club. From them, more plants began to spawn, which made the situation even more difficult. Ratchet: "Oh, great! Just what we need, even more deadly plants!" Duff: "Oy! Just try to fight your way outta this one, ya space-born wallopers!" Qwark: "Ratchet! Young miss! I just wanna say that THIS IS THE WORST GOLFING EXPERIENCE I'VE EVER HAD!"

Ratchet looked back at Qwark in a very irritated manner.

Just then, the Kimmunicator went off. Kim answered it. Wade: "Guys, I think I may have found something that could help you out. I just recently discovered research on experimental sound waves that can be used to eradicate any unwanted plants. It's said that the sound waves can disrupt the plastids, disenabling its ability to convert sunlight into food." Kim: "So, basically, these sound waves can cause them to starve to death?" Wade: "Precisely, I'm working on collecting the data and finding the right frequency that won't affect the natural plant life of Pratoma." Clank: "I am objective to the idea of utilizing any means of widespread eradication of plant life, but this form of vegetation should not have been produced on this planet. Do whatever is necessary, Wade. We must put a stop to this as soon as possible." Wade: "I'm on it, Clank. Once I find the right frequency, I'll have it uploaded to your receiver. Just hang in there, you guys."

The fight continued on. The group was really having a tough time fight through. Duff Killigan was jumping for joy as this went on. Duff: "That's right! Go at those space-born interlopers, me deadly vines! Show them what you're made of!"

More and more, things were really looking grim. At the last second, the Kimmunicator chimed again. Kim answered it again. Wade: "Guys, I found the right frequency for these plants. I'm uploading it to Clank's receiver now."

Wade did just that. He needed only a few seconds. Clank: "Upload complete. Initiating plastid disruption sound wave now."

Clank sent out the sound wave from his antenna on all of the vicious plants. From that, they were being crippled very badly. Kim: "It's working!" Ratchet: "Alright! Way to go, Wade!" Qwark: "Huzzah for the genius kid from the planet Earth! Now, let's sock it to these evil plants while they're being weakened." Kim: "Oh, I'm so all over that. How about you, Ratchet?" Ratchet: "Did you even need to ask?"

They went back to fighting the plants. This time, they were able to stand a chance against them. Duff Killigan stopped jumping for joy and stood by, shocked with what he was seeing. He then became very furious. As the group continued to fend off the plants, Duff Killigan took them by surprise as he lashed out and fought them, himself. The guy has shown to be a very dangerous fighter as he used his golf clubs as weapons. Ratchet: "Whoa! Does he even know what he could do to us with those things!?" Kim: "Well, he is unstable!" Ratchet: "Uh, duh! That's a given!"

As they continued to fight him, he became more and more agitated and swung at them much harder. Ratchet locked his weapon with Duff's golf clubs. Clank sometimes helped out by grabbing on to the golf clubs as they were being swung towards Ratchet. Duff: "Oy! Hold still so that I may beat the stuffing out of ye stubborn dobbers!" Ratchet: "Not gonna happen, you golf loving nutcase!"

Qwark then got close enough to Duff and got the chance stood close to him. Qwark: "Take this, evildoer!"

Qwark punched him in the face, knocking him down. Ratchet: "Yes! That was awesome!" Kim: "Way to go, Qwark!"

Qwark then stood by and smiled.

Soon enough, all of the vicious plants died out. Kim: "Well, I'll say that ends that evil plan." Ratchet: "Heh, certainly, we've put a stop to Duff Killigan and saved this entire planet." Qwark: "Well then, I have to say mission accomplished. No evil golf course is going to be built on this planet or any other for that matter."

Suddenly, Ratchet noticed something. Ratchet: "Uh…guys? Where's Killigan?"

They soon noticed that Duff Killigan was gone. Kim: "Um…Qwark? Didn't you keep him at bay?" Qwark: "What? I thought you guys had him." Kim: "Uh, you look like you could keep him subdued a lot better than us." Qwark: "Oh, right. Oops!"

Ratchet placed his hand on his head and shook his head as he grunted. Duff: "Oy!"

They looked up and noticed Duff Killigan aboard a hovering vehicle. Duff: "You meddlesome lot may heve bested me and my evil plons, but this be far from over. There is stell more to cume."

He flew off and left the planet, they watched as this was happening. Suddenly, Ratchet spotted something within the corner of his eye. He turned his head and was immediately startled. Ratchet: "Guys! Look!"

The others turned and spotted this as well. Kim: "What the…?"

Before them was another tower. Kim: "I don't believe it! It's another tower!" Clank: "Hm…it is exactly like the previous ones." Ratchet: "What the heck is going on here?"

Just then, Talwyn contacted them. Talwyn: "Guys! Come in! We have an emergency!" Ratchet: "What's the sitch, Tal?" Talwyn: "We just picked up on another reading similar to Earth. It seems to be coming from a moon base orbiting planet Terachnos. Wade just confirmed that another of Kim's old enemies is involved in this: some mad scientist named Professor Dementor." Kim: "What!? Him again!?" Talwyn: "I've already left for the moon base with Cronk and Zephyr. We need you guys to meet us there pronto." Ratchet: "OK, we'll be on our way now." Kim: "Let's head back to Aphelion." Ratchet: "Qwark, think you can handle this mess without us?" Qwark: "No problemo, I'll take care of everything from here." Ratchet: "OK, let's get going, Kimberly." Kim: "Right."

They rushed back to the ship, took care of a few last minute things, then got back in, took off and left the planet.

#Kim Possible #Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles #Ratchet and Kim Possible #Ratchet and Clank #The Polaris Epidemic #Ratchet #Clank #Wade #Kimmunicator #Captain Qwark #Duff Killigan #Polaris Galaxy #Talwyn Apogee

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 4 years ago

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Deborah “Shoulder Scarf” Birx is so sorry she stood there in the White House briefing room with her thumb up her ass while Trump recommended drinking Clorox and lied about numbers of cases of COVID and masks and everything else about the virus for a year.

Lindsay “Little Lindsay” Graham bought himself a shiny new AR-15 so he can defend his house against marauding “gangs,” and probably because if you don’t own one of these things, they throw you out of the “base” on your pin-striped butt.

You remember the phrase, “there is no bottom” don’t you? The idea, principally involving Donald Trump, that he couldn’t possibly go any lower than he just went with his latest tweet or his latest lie. Well, I’ve got news for him. He’s got competition.

Little Lindsay, for one. Can you imagine this lame squeak-toy masquerading as a senator from South Carolina and his own personal assault rifle? Don’t you wonder where he keeps it, so he can defend against all those “gangs” that are determined to steal all his antiques or take the brooch he inherited from his mommy, or whatever the hell else he thinks he’s defending? Well, at least we know which gangs he’s not afraid of: The Oath Keepers and the Proud Boys and the Three Percenters, because of course they’re they ones who were “kissing and hugging” the Capitol Police on January 6, according to Lindsay’s golf partner and Mar a Lago lunch-buddy. Nothing to worry about from them, no sir. We’re not afraid of those gangs, because, you know…they’re not Black.

But it was last night’s CNN special entitled “COVID War: The Pandemic doctors speak out,” that takes the cake for this week’s How Low Can We Go Award. What fucking war? There was never a goddamned “war” on COVID! You point to one thing this country did during the 12 months or so Trump and his administration were in charge that amounted to a “war.” Did they institute a nation-wide campaign against the disease, one in which all 50 states and Puerto Rico and other U.S. territories would all be doing the same thing at the same time to fight the disease? If anything even remotely resembling a national unified effort was undertaken, I must have missed it.

And the very idea of collecting these nincompoops in one place with the apparent purpose of asking them what really happened? I mean, they had 365 opportunities between January of 2020 and January of this year on any given afternoon to pick up the phone and call CNN or the New York Times or MSNBC or the Washington Post or anybody for crying out loud and unburden themselves about what the hell was really going on inside the White House or the CDC or the DHS or the FDA, because that’s where they worked, or allegedly worked anyway. Any one of them could have called a press conference out on Pennsylvania Avenue in sight of the White House and blown the whistle on the fucking criminal enterprise that was the Trump administration’s response to the most deadly outbreak of disease in this country in a hundred years.

Nobody was stopping them. There wasn’t a squad of D.C. cops or Secret Service agents out there preventing them from opening their mouths and telling the truth. Birx tried to imply that somehow Trump threatened her, at least that was the question from CNN. “I got called by the President. It was very uncomfortable, very direct and very difficult to hear." “Were you threatened?” CNN asked her? "I would say it was a very uncomfortable conversation."

Oh, goodness! She must have broken out in a sweat and got one of her scarves all damp and everything! A very uncomfortable conversation,” she said. What about all the “very uncomfortable conversations” happening in every fucking hospital in the country when doctors walked outside to tell family members that dad, or mom, or a son or a daughter just took their last gasp on a respirator? How many times you figure that happened? Ten thousand? Twenty? A fucking hundred thousand times?

And who in the flaming son of the devil is Dr. Robert Kadlec, identified by CNN as a disaster response official at the Department of Health and Human Services. You ever remember hearing from or about this goof over the last year? You would think that being the assistant secretary of the Department of Health and Human Services for “disaster response” would put you right in the middle of the COVID pandemic, wouldn’t you? So where the fuck was Kadlec?

Well, I had to look him up and here’s what I found. He was the subject of a long-forgotten whistleblower complaint from way back in May of last year that I have a dim memory of. While the COVID virus was rampaging through the country and killing at first dozens, then hundreds, then thousands a day, Kadlec was awarding a sweetheart no-bid contract for a fucking smallpox vaccine to some company called Emergent BioSolutions he had a personal connection with, at a price that was twice what the government had previously paid for the same vaccine. So what did Kadlec do? He proceeded to go after the guy who filed the complaint against him, Rick Bright, who was the head of BARDA, the Biomedical Advance Research and Development Authority. Kadlec demoted him, transferred him out of BARDA and put him in a job where he had nothing to do. So all the time Kadlec actually has something to do, an actual “disaster” to respond to, he’s running around awarding insider deals for a vaccine against a virus we haven’t had a case of in fucking decades.

And he’s one of the SOBs that CNN chose to have on its “COVID war” special. (Rick Bright, on the other hand, was recently appointed to President Biden’s coronavirus advisory board.)

Let’s not even discuss Robert Redfield, the director of the CDC who was in charge of shutting up everyone in that once-prestigious government agency. Or Stephen Hahn, head of the FDA, who, shall we say, didn’t exactly distinguish himself or his agency as 500,000 souls were buried under his watch. Or Brett Giroir, the former four star admiral you used to see standing next to Trump during his Rose Garden appearances when he was screaming about “opening up” the economy and telling us the coronavirus was going to “just disappear.” He was Assistant Secretary for Health and was put in charge of COVID testing, which we will all recall was such a success that more than a year after COVID, it is still a gigantic pain in the ass to get a test for the virus.

CNN had all these goofs on its air last night because they know “the real story behind the scenes” in the “war on COVID.” Not one of them ever flapped so much as a corner of their bottom lip to tell what they knew about how fucked up the whole Trump administration was during the year they served under the Golfer in Chief. Not one of them considered for even a moment resigning from their position and going public. And now, we’re told, they are all working on restoring their reputations while there are 500,000 dead bodies out there who were buried on their watch which will never be “restored.”

I’m so glad Joe Biden made it to the White House so he could stand out there on the back lawn the other day where Trump used to tell all his lies to the press and finish answering a reporter’s question about Georgia’s new voting restrictions by saying, “You can’t provide water for people about to vote. Give me a break.”

I’ve wanted to hear someone say “give me a break” for four long years. Give me a break, CNN, asking all these lame fucks to tell us the truth about Trump and COVID, 500,000 lives too late. Give me a break, Shoulder Scarf, with your whining about Trump making you feel “uncomfortable.” Give me a break, Little Lindsay, with your brand-new shiny shootie-thingie that’s going to scare all those nasty gang guys.

Lucian K. Truscott IV

#COVID-19 #global pandemic #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #cowardice #incompetence #Lucian K Truscott IV

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squirrels49 · 4 years ago

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What Fowl Can Be Known as a Hawk, But Isn't a Hawk in Any Way?

It was not the first moment that our kitty had brought a surprise back with her. It was not the first time she'd attracted in a live fowl. Maybe it had been she published it in the sack instead of the basement or livingroom (her standard locations to place her victim unfastened ). I presume what really surprised me that the most was the size of the bird that has been now flying in a panic around my bedroom.Over years, using just two female house cats who we let outdoors a few of hours per day, we have experienced our share of rabbits, mice along with other bark , and birds input our residence. Most of time they're still alive, fearful, but for the most part, unharmed. Cats that are satisfactorily fed do not hunt for meals, they hunt for fun, and thus they ordinarily don't eat the animals/birds they capture. They often bring them to the individuals as a present or to demonstrate that they'd caught something.Being a Healer, I understand the value of aiding those creatures and critters overcome their shock before discharging themas it is the jolt which often kills themnot any injury they may have sustained.So the chicken that was currently flying across the sack was just the modern chicken necessitating my attention.Unfortunately, which has been going for considered a significant issue. I was used to helping little sparrows that frequented our garden and the neighbor's bird feeders. This chicken was much bigger-in factthat he had been a predator . He was a hawk.I need to admit my close connections with hawks has been lacking. I feel the nearest I came into one was one had been at an tree eyeing a deceased bird close by. Still, the chicken proved to be much further away compared to main one who currently stood in my dresser looking like it would attack anything or anyone which moved.Normally I'd have let the chicken settle down a bit before approaching him, but it was hurt by my cat like I saw blood onto the ground and walls where the hawk had flown. This absolutely had been enough bloodstream to imply that waiting was not wise if I wanted him to survive.But there have been those talons. And there clearly is that sharp, pointed beak.And these very modest eyes were seeing each movement I made.I shut the bedroom door to contain his flight then grabbed a small blanket to throw over him. This functioned. The bird can barely fly. I donned leather gloves and sunglasses (for security ) subsequently lifted the package, careful to grip the ft. With my husband's assistance, I had been able to examine the bird without even any the damage to either of the us. He experienced only a small cut on his rear and one of his wings had been overlooking a couple larger feathers. Each wounds were bleeding.As I found no other wounds that were of immediate consideration, '' I gave the fowl that the homeopathic medication Aconitum napellus("Aconite") for the shock. Aconite operates great to relaxed shock in animals along with human beings. I have used it before on creatures and critters, also when responding to vehicle accidents.When the remedy had slid the bird, I washed the cuts afterward gave him that the homeopathic medication Gunpowder to stem infections. I bandaged his wing it wouldn't proceed for transport to the Wildlife Sanctuary. For rehab, they'd execute a excellent job.But Al As, these were shut, or so the hawk was attracted house and put from the spare rest room because of the night-it was quiet and there was nothing the hawk could damage himself should he drift all about. He looked a ton better than he'd had before he had been awarded the homeopathics.The subsequent early morning , the hen was doing great, however that I still wasn't certain about the wing. I removed the bandage from his wing, lifted up him and enabled him to fly-he didn't do so good-so I took him into the Sanctuary for more treatment. The hawk was possibly the size of my kitty and that I wondered just how she'd gotten the jump on him. Marin (my kitty ) had no harms, that had been surprising since the hawk was a predator who would prey . Maybe, becoming that the hawk was not small, he was not a threat to Marin.The hawk was published from your Wildlife Sanctuary that a few days later. The rehabilitation helper had been amazed the bird had not arrived for the Sanctuary in jolt, and failed to develop an infection and was able to become released so fast. I wasn't amazed, however, due to the fact I understood the healing skills of homeopathy.I believed the stories that the hawk would tell to other hawks, even joked only just a bit believing the hen could probably come up with a very dangerous and exciting story, telling of this great struggle which had hurt him. Had he told the truth-that he was captured by the cat-he would have already been teased for quite a while.The initial issue we did our trip was supposed to check to our hotel which was that the Barrier Station re sort at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. On our holiday bundle we've got a 3 days and 2 night live, they gave us some dinner certificates to Mulligan's restaurant and pub and Jolly Rodgers. Also a excellent surprise in our vacation package had been 2 tickets to a Musical Show.After checking in we moved right into the hotel to examine it empty the large quantity of luggage we had brought us. The room was we predicted. Even though there were only 2 of us they gave us a two bed room accommodation. This was the bomb because we had our own toilet. The master bedroom had a huge Jacuzzi inside (which we use every night) along with also a king size bed together with a huge balcony. The other bedroom needed to bedrooms and your bathroom. They both had television's and were very well decorated. Along side a huge living space, dining room and kitchen that they also had a washer and dryer. Had we know this we'd have brought much less clothing?After unpacking we moved into the welcome center and assessed all those tasks that these were presenting. They had special to ground meals, games and a variety of lessons, along side several traveling excursions. Perhaps not merely did they all will have outside pools however they also had just one of the largest indoor grills that I have ever seen. And of course a weight room with all types of exercise equipment and also in door and outdoor hot tubes. Of course, when that was not enough they had a superb character walk trail and a location for runners.After exploring the resort we chose to simply take benefit of one of those dinner certificates we had been given and also went on Mulligan's for lunch. We're impressed by the number and high quality of the food and service we received. They'd a deck which moved to the surface of the cafe s roof with tables up there and also you could take pleasure in the sea view as you dined. I do feel just a modest sorry for its waters since they needed to go upward and down about half staircase all day long.When we ended dinner we continued with our vacation going to the shore where we did just a small sunning and tried some small fishing in the fishing pier that had been a few miles from our resort. Not bringing some fishing gear together were surprised that they'd everything you might want to go fishing. It simply cost us about 40.00 for all the apparatus and bait you wanted and now being outside to the pier you did not need to worry about getting eaten alive from almost any critters which might possibly be wondering all around on the island. We also toured about thirty kilometers of the island also found many great places to eat and shop. One of my favorite areas in Kitty Hawk to eat would be Jimmy's Sea Food Buffet. They offer an early bird special at which you can win $100.00 in funds as well as to get the first hour they give you lobster. You really don't even miss the lobster though, because with every different kind of seafood you may think of they possess ten different sorts of crab legs plus you can eat everything you want. Unfortunately we didn't get to eat there this time round because of the a number of other locations we never tried while there on vacation.However we did get to see one of the better musicals that I have ever gone . It was mixed with oldies and classical tunes together with some humor. The entire cast was superb. It lasted about two hours was so interesting that it felt which we're only there for half an hour. They change shows frequently so if you visit into the outside banks regularly you may get to see distinctive reveals. On Wednesdays that they offer you a magical show for those magical buffs in the same construction. So the next time you go there on a break please put that on you are todolist because you won't be sorry when planning on taking my own advice.One issue I did not plan moment doing our vacation was a round of golf and I am sorry I didn't because there weren't several really nice cheap golf courses near. I'm not sure but some one told us there were 12 in the area. Sounds like a golfer's paradise to me personally and together with this most golf courses I think that you need to plan to stay per week instead of just a few days. We did not go into any one of this course's this time round whilst the temptations would have already gone to great but I am certain that with many that they might never have been on to crowded.Well the bottom point for the full article is that it was really so relaxing and so gratifying our next vacation will likely be in the outside banks next year plus people also plan on taking a couple mini holidays or long weekends because a few call it there on a normal basis. And certainly will always be towards the top of my record for vacations to get quite a while for you to come.Because a few varieties of hawk some times kill game critters, the full class continues to be contested. You can find those, and they are several, who fail to observe that birds of prey fill out an important part in the amazing scheme of character. Does the hunter who shoots down the hawk at each and every prospect, because some species occasionally captures what he is very happy to take into account his special property, ever cease to request exactly what caused the quail along with different non-migratory match critters to reach the powers of swift flight that alone create sure they are desired as things of sport?It may be that the bird of prey, pursuing one opposite since the days of these invention, which has evolved not only its own strength of wing, but but in addition that of its quarry. And just as certainly as it is accurate, therefore indeed will that electricity be lost in the event the contributing cause be removed. The do do, a pigeon, found himself over the island of Mauritius in which enemies were unknown. He yielded to gluttony and in action, designed a corpulence that uttered traveling, and was eaten out of the face of the planet in a limited while right following his discovery by gentleman. His relative, the rock dove, who'd to flee the chasing hawk or perish, created but retains a power of wing which is famous around the world.To find additional details on this please dig this. At the same manner some other species, notably a number of the rails, by adopting a carefree lifetime, have forfeited flightand now face extermination if some active enemy invades their haunts. The most hawks, which we have been now , have made our grouse and quail what they are. Close students of the area additionally recognize that the amazing significance of hawks from removing game animals suffering from infectious diseases. Just a small thought should convince people of the fallacy of this debate the diminishing ranks of our game critters are the consequence of depredation by hawks, an idea that's become the foundation of most of the prejudice directed toward them. In case this were well founded then the decimation of the hunters would have caused a gain in match birds.In real truth the two hawks and match possess diminished concurrently, and also from exactly the very same primary bring about. For example of the destruction of harmless hawks under mere sensing, there can be cited an item only published in the report of advancement within an evaluation of methods for increasing quail. Up to thirty marsh hawks had been frequenting roosting regions from the match addresses, and so approximately 1 / 2 of these were taken. Subsequently over one million of the castings of the birds have been analyzed, each signifying dinner with the result that the stays of 4 quail had been observed, whereas a lot more than 2 hundred dishes had comprised one or even cotton rats, which eat the eggs of the quail. Really the announcement is highlighted that the majority of the opponents of those quail are the destroyers of its foes.The nighttime bird that is described being a Frequent Nighthawk is not a hawk in any way, but also a Nightjar. The title derives from the fact that the man makes a exact loud'jarring' call. All these 10" jay-sized birds have plumage that is indeed well camouflaged it renders them almost undetectable once they are nesting around the ground. They like to use gravel on which to rest and also build their nests. Nightjars additionally utilize dry grass and leaf litter, which hides their brown and gray mottled feather coloring perfectly.Nature also has given the nightjars' eggs with camouflage by creating grayish brown scrawling marks all around the off-white egg-shells. Mama nighthawk incubates the eggs all by herself. Preventing the nest emptied at the early day and afternoon, the feminine nightjar ventures outside to collect pests on that to feed, whilst her male counter part watches from a position never far away. He will finely lure off any prospective predators. Surprisingly, regardless of the typical nighthawk's custom of nesting on the ground, they are remarkably long-lived. The normal life span for a nightjar is 5 years, which is quite a while in bird years.After 18 times have passed, and the younger nightjars hatch. Now they're totally coated with fluffy down feathers. This really can be when the male measures in to help feed the younger hatchlings. Flying pests comprise their whole diet and are pre digested and then regurgitated with their own ma ma and papa.If the infants are jeopardized by almost some other predator, including individuals, ma-ma nighthawk pulls a nifty trick out of her bag and acts like she was hurt. She is good at this action which the predator is tempted to move off out of her nestlings since she clumsily blows off a brief distance away. After the intruder was taken enough by the nest, ma-ma nighthawk flies off usually. Nightjars are all about foraging at dusk, twilight and in moon light. Additionally they hunt as darkness turns to dawn. Their highly sensitive crimson reddish eyes tend not to require plenty of light as a way to locate their prey. In fact, too much light can blind them into your own foodstuff. In case the current weather is wet or snowy, nighthawks revert to a country of torpor to reserve their power. When problems are favorable to good searching, they take to the skies all over again. Nighthawks forage only on the wing. Once they restthey lay length wise across a branch or right on a lawn. Their feet are so tiny and their legs really long as to be not quite ineffective to them.The telephone of a nightjar can be a high-pitched'spee-spee-spee' sound that I have heard often when I am out throughout bliss. During a night of trying to find insects like moths and mosquitoes, even a nighthawk can rid us of thousands of pests. Their mouths are deceptively large and open very wide while they scoop the air for all types of traveling bugs. As they want more open spaces near forests in which insects are plentiful, nightjars are one of the very first ever to take advantage of a freshly burnt forest region. These areas afford a very good background due to their bright colors, thus helping them combine in to that environment additional easily.The decline of common nighthawks has been brought about partly with using pesticides, deficiency of habitat in which to hunt, and also the deficiency of their favorite nesting sites. That are the older style apartment lava roof. The other exact obvious rationale is that their habit of earth nesting and resting makes them much more at risk of predators such as owls, falcons and hawks.When their instinct tells them to go for warmer climes at South America, they shape flocks at times numbering in the tens of thousands Their migratory travel starts in mid July as the nightjars take the own time to stop and eat on the way. If they spot a river or marshland about sunsetthey are going to pause to eat their fill and re-energize, subsequently continue their very lengthy trek southward. Nighthawks return to the united states and Canada around February with the very same leisurely method.Common nighthawks also have been referred to as'bull bats' because of their nightly . However, they don't use echo location as snakes do to find prey. Nightjars have likewise obtained the strange name of'goatsuckers'. At some point it had been mistakenly thought they made their way into barns at night time to sneak the milk out of goats, but this is not true.There are just six species of us Nightjars: Eastern Whippoorwill,'' Mexican Whippoorwill, Chuck-Will's-Widow, Pauraque ('pa-RAW-kee') and Buff-collared Nightjar. All of these species are on the reduction. It isn't probable that you may understand a nighthawk because of these nighttime flights along with camouflage, form fact which they can stay absolutely still whenever approached. They will only fly when the prospective predator has too close for comfort. But in case you need to ever see one of these birds, consider yourself quite blessed indeed!Connie Smith could be the proud operator and director of Grandma Pearl's Backporch, LLC, and the professional writer of many online content about effortless and one of a kind methods by which you can cause the greatest bird-friendly lands to enable wild birds thrive and thrive. Understand just how to produce fun and secure backyard habitats for wild creatures with their preferred crops and foods, even whilst adding shade, odor and beauty to your landscape. Uncover simple how-to projects for producing your very own one of a kind bird feedersand find out how easy it's to entice various birds into your gardens and lawn. Visit today!

#lethargic wasps in house

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Punk’d History, Vol. VII: Sick Tunes*

In 1977, when punk rock was coming to the attention of institutional politics and mass media, the music and its culture were frequently compared to illness. In an infamously priggish rant about the Sex Pistols, English MP Bernard Brook Partridge used the word “nauseating” three times in forty seconds. Even the tentatively friendly coverage the Pistols were getting in some venues in the American musical press was informed by the comparison. In October of 1977, a Rolling Stone cover story declaimed, “Rock Is Sick and Living in London.” Charles M. Young, the cover story’s author, insistently characterizes the Pistols and their punky kin as suffering the effects of some sort of physical malady. When he meets Paul Cook, he notes that Cook’s “skin [is] pallid” and “his hand is limp.” Malcolm McLaren has “a pale face”; his assistants at the Sex Pistols’ Piccadilly Circus office space “are also dingy and gray.” Young’s description of Johnny Rotten is spectacularly rife with the imagery of disease: “All misshapen, hunchbacked, translucently pale…the vilest geezer [Young has] ever met.” Rotten is a “sickly dwarf.”

It’s not surprising that music so rigorously focused on negation should be at least metaphorically associated with illness and decline. By now it amounts to obviousness to note that the mid-1970s Anglo-American historical milieu (during which punk suddenly became fodder for political hysteria and journalistic hyperventilating) was not especially possessed of health or vigor. In England and in the States, multiple economic recessions, seemingly countless governmental scandals and failures and a general sense of social malaise constituted the dominant structure of feeling and informed the cultural environment. But punk wasn’t only subject to comparisons to disease. Punk songs were also deploying the imagery and concept of sickness to effect a variety of responses to their times. Sickness became a symbolic weapon.

Few bands were more fascinated and freaked out by weaponized sickness than Dead Kennedys. “Chemical Warfare” was a mainstay in the band’s live set from its formation in the late 1970s. The song’s focus on militarized and terroristic applications of bioweaponry was exemplary of Dead Kennedys’ deep-seated dread for dark perversions of scientific research and the medical rationality of the clinic. “Chemical Warfare” seeks some satiric recompense: its demented lyric speaker raids an armory and unleashes mustard gas on a fairway “full of Saturday golfers”; the tune acquires an even more vicious, antic charge when East Bay Ray plucks out “Sobre Las Olas” as the gas wafts toward “The stuffed country club / Effervescent ladies, so carefree….” The bitter, sardonic humor is characteristic of Biafra’s desire to invoke violence, even as he ironically distances himself from it. From such a distance, one can more broadly claim just desserts: Who better to suffer from the effects of such insidious illness than those who have benefited from the weaponry’s production?

More frequently, Biafra would assume the guise of a corrupt apparatchik or evil undercover agent, doling out disease-laden punishment to enemies of the State and brainwashed rubes alike: see his speaker’s command to “Die on organic poison gas” in “California Uber Alles” (“organic” is a key element there); or “Trust Your Mechanic,” which observes, “TV invents a disease you think you have / So you buy our drugs and soon you depend on them.” Biafra gives those various anxieties a song-length treatment in one of the band’s most truculent recordings.

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The buzzy, muscular opening riff of “Government Flu” is as close to crossover metal as Dead Kennedys ever got, and the rest of the song is suitably breathless, matching the song’s descriptions of sickness. The band plays with razoring precision, a zippy sprint, as Biafra barks, “Got a head cold, got a chest cold, and it’s three days old / Goin’ on forever / Make you hazy, make you lazy, drive you crazy / For days ‘n days ‘n days ‘n days ‘n days and years!” Yikes. A dire prescription. But Biafra’s technocratic voice assures us that it’s all for a good cause: “Slip it abroad / Keep a-slowin’ down the USSR!”

The lyrics’ conspiratorial extremities oddly presage some of the crankier contemporary commentary on coronavirus. On March 13th, Jerry Falwell, Jr., joined the jolly morons on Fox and Friends and winked-and-nodded his way through a typically paranoid routine, speculating that North Korea and China had cooked up and loosed COVID-19 on the world in a plot to bring down the Trump presidency. There’s a weird symmetry to the way Falwell, Jr., and Biafra follow their visions out to geopolitical scales, especially given the frequency with which Falwell’s father was a target of Biafra’s wrath. History is always stranger than fiction.

California’s punk history runs wide and deep, and numerous hardcore and crust bands further explored the symbolic and political ramifications of Biafra’s fixations. Bay Area band Christ on Parade’s first EP, Sounds of Nature (1985), featured “The Plague,” a song that associated humanity’s presence on the earthball with biological malignancy: “Civilization’s a cancer… / People are only mindless cells / Spreading a terminal disease.” Band member Noah Landis would eventually move on to join Oakland heavies Neurosis, whose first LP Pain of Mind (1987) included the grimly titled instrumental “Geneticide” and a song called “Self-Taught Infection”: Scott Kelly sings, “Our world’s a disease / The germ is us.” A few years later, and some miles farther south in Orange County, crust band Dystopia added to the chorus on its excellent EP The Aftermath (1999).

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“Population Birth Control” delivers an apocalyptic elaboration of the symbols and themes: “Malignant cancer of the ecosystem / Gnawing at a mother / Children she loves / Cankered womb and body.” As the song progresses, the metaphors clarify: the “mother” is the earth, her “children” are humans and humans are a cancer. The song grinds and crawls and pummels away, like the machinery and industries it excoriates. Dino Sommese howls, “The tumors feed and grow / All the land turns to stone / Biodiversity reduced / From a parasite’s abuse.”

Of course, punk and crust bands didn’t invent these rhetorics and discursive maneuvers. Any number of SF novels—from Huxley’s Brave New World to Walter Miller’s A Canticle for Leibowitz to John Brunner’s excellent The Sheep Look Up—have inventoried, gamed out and riffed on human technologies run amuck and their production of profound ecological collapse. But we should note that crust punks who are serious about their crustiness have always been an earnest bunch. They don’t just produce art; they live it, inhabiting real, material austerities: squatting, assiduously following a vegan diet, releasing music outside of capital’s mainstream markets for exchange. Even the more performative elements of the subculture that other folks might label with the awful term “lifestyle” have material consequences for consumption: not bathing frequently, wearing the same denim and leather for weeks on end, dreadlocks.

Soon after releasing the EP version of The Aftermath, the crusty boys in Dystopia would record a cover of Rudimentary Peni’s “Cosmetic Plague.” Much of Rudimentary Peni’s work can be thought of as an extended meditation on social alienation and psychological illness, and it’s all pretty brilliant. But a number of bands active in the English anarcho-punk scene that Rudimentary Peni drifted through engaged with disease in a more politically materialist fashion.

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“Myxomatosis” concerns a disease caused by a pox virus, which proves particularly devastating to various European species of wild rabbit. In the 1950s numerous national governments intentionally introduced the virus into their populations of European rabbits to curb species proliferation. Like many of their fellow anarcho-punks, Flux of Pink Indians were strident advocates for animal rights. The band was disgusted by the deliberate spread of the virus; they saw it as exemplary of Western modernity’s insatiable desire to control nature, to impose destructive forms of human will upon other critters: “Experimentation, vivisection, devastation, starvation, torture, war / All mindless slaughter are basically the same / Manmade oppression, manmade pain.” Perhaps the most effective refrain in the song is “Oppression stinks” (and “Myxomatosis” isn’t the first song in which Flux of Pink Indians focused on a corrosive smell). Oppression signifies the idea of a coercive, politically motivated behavior. The term necessarily abstracts, a cognitive action that helpfully sets parameters for a general category; less helpfully, the abstraction operates at a distance from the lived reality—frequently a violent reality—of the behavior itself. “Stinks” is a powerfully organic term. It invokes the piles of bunnies, riddled with pox and writhing, dying and rotting. It vivifies our awareness of the full force of oppression, of how it impinges on and damages and debilitates bodies. It’s horrific.

Another 1980s English anarcho-punk band, Subhumans, recorded numerous similarly themed songs: “Us Fish Must Swim Together,” “Pigman,” “Evolution.” But more relevant are the band’s songs that address illness. “Germ” is a song from the Evolution EP; Dick Lucas sings, “I play with your health, I destroy all there is / I’m the germ in your mouth when you give her a kiss!” He almost cackles with glee—it’s a typical punky demolition of conventionally saccharine sentimentalization of bodily experience. The song’s skepticism about the efficacy of “the National Health” indicates the band’s ideological opposition to government and institutionally dictated forms of normativity. In the spring of 2020, it’s hard to hear that skepticism clearly, when we are in dire need of nationally and internationally coordinated responses to massive public health crisis.

A glib response (powered by an impoverished notion of anarchism, all too common in some reactionary punks’ selfish appropriations of the term) to that need might be some version of “reap the whirlwind.” To briefly give that perspective an airing: late capital’s systems of production have indeed propagated uneven development and ever more efficient global interlinkage, as well as industrially scaled agriculture and fossil fuels consumption, all of which have issued in world systems and climatological conditions ripe for pandemic. The less glibly observed fact must be that many of the people who will suffer the effects of COVID-19 have not benefited from the operations of late capital. They suffered them, and they will suffer more.

Subhumans address those issues with greater complexity on Worlds Apart (1985), one of the best punk records of the 1980s. “Someone Is Lying” revisits themes and symbols that are familiar by this point: careless manufacturing of toxic, hazardous substances; the substances’ escape into the lifeworld; the working class’s disproportional immiseration, both by the mode of production and the diseases that spring from it. The crisp, brisk riff underscores the song’s growing anxiety. More stirring is Dick’s vocal performance in the song’s closing minutes. He repeats, ad nauseum, “These people are dying! / Someone is lying!” The band swirls behind him with growing intensity. People are dying. Someone is lying. In 2020, the scenario has loosed itself from the song and infected our reality. To be sure, the Real is stranger than fiction. Throughout the winter and spring, institutional powers worldwide have lied and obfuscated, always in rank self-interest, in ruthless effort to maintain their grip on power. It is sick, diseased, repugnant. And the lies grow from and exacerbate deep social problems.

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In England, in 1985, the song’s phrases gestured toward specifically English ideas, with specifically English resonances: “inbred snobbery,” “wipe out the ghetto,” “the civilized nation.” It seems that we are no longer worlds apart; Dick sings about a “British Disease,” but America in 2020 suffers strikingly similar symptoms. At the song’s crescendo, when Dick is diagnosing the illness, he shouts, “Ignorance is your disease! / Ignorance and apathy! / Ignorance and bigotry!” That turns out to be an apt depiction of a significant portion of the American citizenry, credulous boosters of a “PATRIOT law” (my caps), idiotically basking under the glow of fluorescents on the floor of Target or Whole Foods, whining about an unbelievable access to plenitude: “What? No fresh jicama!” It’s easier to bask and whine than it is to consider all of the crushing injustice and violence that have made that plenitude possible. Or to live in a way that struggles to fashion an ethical response.

Some folks are more vulnerable. They have no choice but to become intimate with those crushing forces. Try walking out into the Target parking lot and adjusting your vision. You’ll likely find a car somewhere along the fringes, its driver gorked out, needle hanging from a vein. Another victim of the American disease, another person in malignant, soul-destroying pain, trying to self-medicate. You’ll walk past, plastic bags bulging. “You thought this country was so great.”

Perhaps our new disease will provide a change in perspective. Current conditions suggest otherwise. At the time of this writing (22 March 2020), in spite of the callow cynicism, repulsive preening and empty macho pose of our newly self-declared “Wartime President,” the Trump Administration’s national job approval numbers are ticking up. Ignorance and apathy. Ignorance and bigotry. When does the disease become terminal?

* N.B. This essay was written at furious pace, at the close of the first week of social distancing as COVID-19 arrived in Philadelphia, PA. There are many, many punk bands and songs that address sickness that haven’t been included: the Germs, Flipper’s “Survivors of the Plague,” GBH’s “Sick Boy,” and so on. But the essay is not interested in offering any sort of survey or comprehensive account of punk’s symbolic treatment of illness—and “Sick Boy” is a thunderingly stupid song, anyways. Additional apologies for the essay’s fast-and-loose organization. Furious writing bears the marks of the psychological dissonance its writer (ahem) suffers. And angry words likely should not be prettily put.

Jonathan Shaw

#punk'd history #jonathan shaw #dusted magazine #illness #punk #subhumans #sex pistols #dead kennedys #christ on parade #dystopia #rudimentary peni

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