#Opium Farming

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“Jail Doctor Calls Paregoric Worst Drug Menace There,” Toronto Star. December 13, 1932. Page 1 & 2. ---- Addicts Get It Easily in Toronto Drug Stores and Are Killing Themselves ---- CONTROL IS URGED --- While jail physicians are treating narcotic addicts at the Don Jail and the Jail Farm, literally dozens of former addicts are obtaining all the paregoric they desire at will from drug stores and are killing themselves, it is charged to-day by Dr. Geo. D. Lockart, Jail Farm physician.

‘The case with which people can obtain paregoric is something that should be stopped at once,’ urged Dr. Lockart to-day. ‘I find paregoric is an even worse menace to these addicts than morphine and other drugs.’

Paregoric, Dr. Lockart, explained, is a combination of alcohol, opium, camphor and aniseed, but the two chief ingredients are alcohol and opium.

Two Ounces, 15c ‘Dozens of men have told me lately that they can buy a two-ounce bottle of paregoric for fifteen cents. One prisoner told me he could buy ten bottles a day and took it. That is an imperial pint a day.’

Dr. Lockhart referred to the pitiful case of one man who had been under his care as a drug addict at the jail farm.

‘I took a special interest in the man and when he left got him a suit of clothes and fixed him up. He told me he would write me a letter to let me know how he was getting along, but I never received any word from him. One day, some time later, three addicts came in. I asked them about this man. They told me he was dead. The story they told me was that he had been taking a point of paregoric a day.’

It puzzled the doctor to how he obtained the money to buy that much.

Paid $1.50 Daily For It ‘These men told me,’ explained Dr. Lockart, ‘that I used to take a rag and polish cars. He would ask the owners for enough to himself a bite to eat. They would then give him a quarter or a few dollars. In this way, he collected enough for a day. All of it went to paregoric. His stomach refused again to face food. The little bit he ingested he got by begging at restaurants by begging at restaurants left at night just before they were closed up. They would give him enough to eat. Two months after he left the Jail Farm, he was dead. He was brought to the hospital by some other addicts one day, and the next one the hospital reported he was dead.

Sharp Withdrawal A method of sharply withdrawing drugs from addicts, Dr. Lockart said, is practiced by men at the jail farm, and nothing….

[the rest is illegible to me…]

[chappythegardener]

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[whatisonthemoon]

This episode of Things Observed with Recluse is even more detail-filled than his earlier, brief overview of the World Anti-Communist League (WACL). Recluse has been studying the parapolitical aspects of the Unification Church and the Religious Right for years, and the seriousness of his research is evident in this episode.

EPISODE LINK: World Anti-Communist League feat. Recluse: International Drug Trafficking, Nazis, Ukraine, the China Lobby and the Fascist International

Today I am joined with Steve Snyder, the host of The Farm podcast, the man who runs the VISUP blog and the author of A Special Relationship: Trump, Epstein, And the Secret History of the Anglo-American Establishment. He is also one of the authors of Strange Tales of the Parapolitical: Postwar Nazis, Mercenaries, and Other Secret History. In addition to buying his books you can read some of his work by visiting visupview.blogspot.com.In this episode Recluse joins us to discuss the World Anti-Communist League. We cover the groups that would come together to form the WACL such as the Anti-Bolshevik Bloc of Nations, the Asian Peoples Anti-Communist League and the Unification Church or better known in America as the Moonies. We also discuss WACL's and it's founders relationship to the international opium trade. We discuss people like the Yakuza gangster and fascist drug lord Yoshio Kodama and the unlikely partnership he would form with Kuomintang leader Chiang Kai-Shek and how they along with other WACL members would dominate the global opium trade. Not only did some in the WACL have ties to the drug trade through opium but also through the cocaine trade. We discuss some of those involved in WACL and the distribution of cocaine. We also discuss how the WACL relates to Latin American Death Squads, the Mexican Esoteric Nazi order of the Tecos, the China Lobby which served as a kind of precursor to the Israel Lobby, Claire Chennault and the flying tigers, Air America and CIA drug trafficking, the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalist and how that relates to the current Russia/Ukraine conflict and so much more. Recluse is astoundingly smart, and this episode is absolutely jam packed with information. Also, there is some fun stuff about how Recluse got into researching the parapolitical as well as what separates the WACL from other think tanks such as the Council on Foreign Relations, Trilateral Commission and the Bilderberg Group. So, join us to learn about the shadowy group that the conspiratorial right won't touch with a ten-foot pole, the World Anti-Communist League.

[romanceyourdemons]

fanfiction where a young actor gets a bullet through his calf as he flees zhenjiang, and even though the musketball passed cleanly through and even though he somehow managed to avoid infection, he has to walk the whole way to his family home in the country on his own two feet, and by the time he gets there the leg has healed wrong. he had had a promising career—he was called the best dan actor in the city—but it hardly matters that he will never be able to walk onstage again. who has time for opera with british soldiers crawling around everywhere like flies? this is what he tells himself as he endures his aching leg and calluses his hands working on his family’s tea farm: picking the leaves, bruising them, roasting them, packing them into cakes, stacking the cakes carefully in wagons to take to the merchant. but the merchant tells the family he cannot pay them for their harvest right now. with all this chaos, who’s buying? he’s acting with compassion to take these wares off their hands at all. all right, very well, for the sake of their poor sick grandfather he can spare ten strings of cash—but that’s coming straight out of the mouths of his children. and it is true that he has been operating in the red for years, but not because he cannot sell his tea. his mother has been addicted to opium for years, and he cannot bear seeing her in withdrawal pains, and he has a small addiction himself it’s not important, and in any case every copper coin he gets from the east india company is not quite enough to cover what the dapper opium smuggler demands. so he sends off the load of tea cakes in exchange for a box of opium, and the tea gets loaded onto a ship by an old man who speaks english well enough but has never yet dreamed in it, because all his dreams are of his vanished childhood in mumbai. it’s loaded off of the ship by a coughing teenager who does not even remember what galway looks like, and it’s stored in a warehouse that an eight-fingered sex worker likes to work near, because after ten years in the mill she can’t hear nothing but ringing and her eyesight grows worse by the day, and nice smells are the only beautiful thing she can have anymore. and hundreds of miles away more money than any of these people will ever know changes hands, and the tea cakes get loaded into another ship where they sit for years as generations of rats live out quiet lives and conscripts share what warmth they can amid the dusty fragrance, and then they’re dragged out into the polar sunlight and captain james fitzjames, who does not even know he ruined that young actor’s leg all those years ago, orders them abandoned on the ice

[scoliosisrick]

OH NO ISOPOD MORTY!!! THE LEAF DIMENSION I TOOK YOU TO TURNED OUT TO BE AN OPIUM FARM FOR THE INTERDIMENSIONAL HEROIN PEDDLING CARTEL!!!! THEY LOOK MAD AT US ISOPOD MORTY!!! THERE'S MORE OFF SCREEN JUST STUPID SHITTY PICSART SAID THERE'S A LIMIT TO STICKERS ISOPOD MORTY!!!! OH NOO I'M GONNA NEED MY MORTY MILITIA NOW MORE THAN EVER!!! THEY'RE GONNA TIE US TO CONCRETE BLOCKS AND DROP US IN THE LAKE ISOPOD MORTY!!!

@eiesopodmortey

[tjodity]

HOA Compliance of different bases on the SDMP, according to JSchlatt and CaptainSparklez:

Mika: Not HOA Compliant (no structural support, dead animal outside, insects indoors, fungus growing out of ceiling, renting out apartments without permit) Fine 20 diamonds

Telepathics: Not HOA Compliant (no structural support, barn animal indoors, inability to fix issues) Fine 30 diamonds, whittled down to 19 after paying gold and rubies

Meowriza: HOA Compliant (modern style, structural support, public recreational facilities, two tickets for the fighting arena given to Schlatt and Sparklez) No fine

Aztrosist: Not HOA Compliant (anti-Schlatt poster, large opium farm hidden in the basement) Fine 50 diamonds

Connoreatspants: Not HOA Compliant (no structural support) No fine, told to fix issues

Hunter_hhhh: HOA Compliant (Clearly marked entrances, attention to style, restaurant to the community's benefit, apartment is not occupied, fire exits, selling drugs for Schlatt and Sparklez) No fine

(to be updated with more)

[keelt9]

OPIUM POPPY

Masterlist

This is nuts, I never in my whole life have I’ve seen so many pumpkins in a short period of time, I mean in 15 minutes. 

I totally forgot the first week of October Lilian receives like every year a full load of pumpkins from a local farm, for sale on halloween. It was until early morning a big truck parked in front of the florist’s full of pumpkins.

“The back room is full, I think we should put it here.” Gael said, coming out of the room full of orange fruits. “Don’t worry, it's normal, relax.” 

I nod as I keep signing the paper of receipt; between the bouquets, pumpkins start to take place.

The sound of the door makes me realize that yes, customers will be coming along with the pumpkins. 

“Hi, I’ll be there in a pumpkin.” The scoff of Gael makes me correct myself. “In a second, I’ll be with you in a second.”

“This will be over in four days.” Gael jokes with me walking around the place trying to put in order all the pumpkins.

“Days?!” Gael carried another pumpkin to the back room.

“So, all are here.” I get down my head trying to figure out who four days can become, at least in two.

“Everybody here knows, huh?” The soft giggles sound familiar now, turning around I see Joe arm cross but with a smile.

“Lilian let us know a few days earlier pumpkins are coming.” I curse underneath seeing the last pumpkin enter the florist’s. 

Gael greeted Joe in total calm with a bouquet in his hands. Mental note, asking him why he didn’t say anything the first few days I was here about Joe.

“This is about to be smashed, where do you want it?” A small opium poppy bouquet is safe in his hands, I was working on that before the pumpkin rain interrupted.

I looked around beside the bouquets in their places, it wasn’t any empty spot. 

“I’ll take it.” Joe answered by taking the bouquet looking around to the orange room. “And my pumpkins.” 

Making Gael and I laugh. “Are you leaving my heartsease?” This time Joe laughs so hard. 

“Just for a while.” I chuckle taking the bow to put the ribbon around it, meanwhile Gael takes the 5 big pumpkins to Joe’s car.

“I haven’t seen you in days, you get the number?” This time I chose a yellow ribbon.

Joe clears his throat and a big smile appears on his face, good news. “I did.”

“And?” I give it to him one more time, but he licks his lips. “No way! You haven’t texted her, right?”

“It’s not that easy. What could I tell her?” Joe complains, raising his shoulders. 

I cross my arms. “Who could tell? Joe Burrow it’s a shy guy after all.” The loud bump of Gael's arm distracts us for a second. 

“I’m fine! I don’t see the wall.” Joe and I laughed seeing Gael carrying the last pumpkin. 

I think for a second when Collin's message gives an idea. “What about if you tell her about your day?”

Joe scoffs seeing the flowers. “My day?” 

“Hey! If you tell her, maybe she will tell you about hers. I bet you don’t have a boring life.” Joe laughs softly as he puts his hands on his waist. “I don’t know, the good one on this it’s Lilian, you should have asked her when she was here.” 

One more time the door opens, this time the Hunter twins arrive with big eyes running when they see the pumpkin ocean.

“Mom, it’s time!” Mrs. Hunter smiles knowing that maybe her shop of flowers will turn in a car full of pumpkins. 

“I’ll leave you, thanks for the advice.” Joe jokes as we walk to the exit. “I’ll send you a photo after I finish my work of art.” 

He points to the 5 big pumpkins in his car. “I count on that.” 

It was a long day, a lot of pumpkins are still around, it seems we barely reached clean the front of the florist’s. Gael came from the back room tired as I was ready to go home. 

“Do you need help tomorrow for the small ones?” I choke with my sip of water.

“Small ones?!” Gael jokes and explains to me, the first day the big pumpkins arrived and the next the small ones, less than big ones. “Omg!”

“I’ll come tomorrow morning, have a good night boss.” Gael said, walking with his backpack to the exit as he picked his big pumpkin.

On my way to Lilian’s apartment a message from a strange number appears on the screen. Joe sent a photo of one of his big pumpkins, a scary face on it, set in his front door.

I thought if with the frequency of his messages increasing I’ll probably not see him so much, to be honest it’s way much easier, order flowers than come to pick it up, but no; his 3 day visit continues with the same excitement as always. 

“Ok, ok, wait for a second.” I stretch my arms and hands.

When Lilian knows that I have a local full of pumpkins and there aren't any of them on our door, she calls every morning, afternoon and night until I agree I’ll try my best to put at least one. 

In all my life, yes, I decorated pumpkins but my mom and dad, even Collin, are in charge of taking out all the pulp and giving it a proper form, until today.

Reason why, I’ll call my dad early this morning to guide me through this.

“We’re almost there honey, just one eye and a nose and it will be over.” Dad had his cup of coffee next to him as he finished his third pumpkin. 

“I 100% prefer painting them.” After a week, the florist’s is empty of pumpkins, with halloween in 3 days, you start to see kids with costumes from early hours.

One more hour and I finally finished one pumpkin. “We can start the other when you feel ready.”

I shake my head taking out the gloves as I scoff. “Lilian said one, there is one.” 

Dad laughs as he smiles softly at me. “One kid far away and the other ready to go.” 

Lately with me away from home and Collin next to do it too, our parents turn into really sentimental people.

The sound of the door announced the first customer of the day. “I have to go, thanks dad.” 

He smiles waving his hand before hanging out.

I found Joe with his bag in his hand and sunglasses on, making me smile. The Bengals have a game in Las Vegas. 

“You know, there are barely a few sunlights.” He laughs as I point to his sunglasses. “I guess you’re leaving early, huh?” 

Joe nods. “We do. And you’re covered in orange.” I look down at a lot of pumpkin on me.

“I just made horrible things to a pumpkin.” He laughs as he is searching for something in his bag. “I sadly guess, there is no bouquet today, huh?”

“I’m afraid don’t but…” He smiled when he found it in his bag. “Here.”

A small pumpkin painted in gray an black, it’s squidward. 

“Oh my God! This is amazing.” I observed utterly fascinate. 

“It’s for you.” My brain stops working for more than a second. “You said you need one, so, I’ll hope it works.”

I feel so flattered for a pumpkin. “Whoa, hm, thank you, thank you so much.” Joe smiles grow bigger after seeing me smiling. 

“Well, mhm I have to go, I’ll see you when I come back.” I nod unable to say another word as he walks out of the place.

Until I see an orange opium poppy on the desk. “Joe!” He stops outside of the florist’s; with a tremble on my hands I give him the flower. “Who dey.” 

Joe chuckles and I could swear I see him blushing.

Halloween approached in a blink of an eye, suddenly it's Halloween morning; people with costumes since the very first hours of the morning, kids running all over the streets excited for the night and another just with a small item of Halloween in their clothes.

“In your house?!” Gael screamed from the backroom, he just arrived. “You can come with me.”

I chuckled as I took a last review to the orders of the day. “Take your boss to a Halloween party? No, I will pass.”

Since yesterday night when I told him I'll be resting at home on Halloween night he keeps complaining that I should go to a bar for a drink instead of spending the night in Lilian's house.

“Besides I have candies to give, a lot of them.” I bought a lot of bags of candy. If I plan to be at home, kids will be coming too.

Gael came out with a few flowers for a bouquet. “At least do a proper horror movie marathon.”

“Count with that.” I pat his arm. “It's all right, I'm exhausted after all, don't forget this is all new for me.”

Gale bluffs as a customer gets inside picking up the first bouquet of the day.

The day passed with more movement than I expected. After midday, kids started rushing asking for “trick or treat”, people looking for bouquets and another for a specific type of flowers for their costumes.

Gael leaves earlier, he has a party to go and the night is here.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” I jumped and screamed as I turned around finding a big mask of an alien.

Joe takes out the mask giggling. “Happy Halloween!” 

With my hand on my chest I shake my head. “What are you doing here? You should be with your girl at a party or something like that.”

Joe blushes, repeating the same words. <My girl.> “She has to work, so she will probably be tired, I don't want to rush anything.”

I smile proudly. “Whoa, I'm gladly surprised, how thoughtful. Still you have a party right?”

He has a mask and a strange UFO suit. After a big win, they came back that same night. Joe told me some of the guys want to be here to spend Halloween with their families.

“I do, one of the guys is making one.” Joe looks around his eyes and stops in the small pumpkin on the desk smiling.

“Hey, great game. I heard you crushed the other team.” I said looking for a ribbon for the last bouquet of the day.

“You heard? You didn’t watch it?” His disbelieving tone made me close my eyes and smile.

“You played the same hour as San Francisco. I can't help it.” I put the ribbon when I lifted my eyes; Joe is biting his lip kind of indecisive. “Are you ok?”

“You know, there is a big divisional game next week…” He lifts his head rubbing his neck.

“Yeah, the Steelers.” I nod fitting for not blushing like a tomato in front of him, the uncountable times I see the videos and pictures of this now so vividly in front of me.

“YES!” He clears his throat. “And… San Francisco has his bye week.”

Never fails to make me laugh. “I know.”

“What about if you watch it?” Joe asks but his eyes are closed. 

“Yeah, sure.” His eyes open right away, looking for something in his jacket.

“In the Stadium.” It's two tickets for Sunday's game. 

I take them, opening my eyes so big. “Are you joking?” Clearly exciting for the invitation. Looking in detail it's first row tickets. “No way!” 

“I mean you could bring someone if you want.” It's hard to contain the thrill even when he knows the only person I could bring is Gael. 

“So funny.” I look at the tickets then at him who has a soft smile. “I'll go, count on that!”

Joe was about to speak but my excitement came with a big hug. “Thanks Joe.”

He tense for a moment but a second later, I feel his arms around me in a warm hug.

“Is there a chance I will meet the mysterious girl?” I asked, slipping apart.

Joe cheeks turned red and whispers almost inaudible, and I’m not sure if I could hear. “I think you already did.”

My phone started to sound, Collin is calling. 

“Sorry, it's my brother I have to pick up.” Joe shakes his head, taking his mask.

“I have to go too. I'll see you in the week before the game, ok?” Joe almost crashed into the wall of the entrance.

“Careful.” He smiles in a shy way. “I'll be here, believe me.” He nods, walking out with a fist tight.

I didn’t have to ask Gael twice to come with me, still he gives the same friendly recommendation. “Making friends outside of the florist's it’s a good option.”

Late at night the day before the game I received the call from Lilian, with good news, if things go as planned they’ll be here the second week of december. 

“That’s great!” Lilian laughs. “I mean, I'm having a great time here but you know, I'm happy for you…”

“And…” She asked as she kept preparing her clothes for breakfast with Jason’s friends. 

“Well, I don’t mind being less involved in hand work.” Meanwhile I was taking out my shopping from this afternoon.

“I bet a lot of pe…” She stops everything and looks right to me. “Hold on, hold on, what do you have there?” 

I see the last things I take out, a bag of chips, a scarf and a beanie. “What?”

“The black, orange beanie.” She points at the camera like she knows where I put it.

“Oh, this.” I raise the beanie, the beanie has a orage-white nine on the middle of it. “Right, I forgot to tell you, Joe invited me to the game, tomorrow's game.” 

I'm aware of the corners of my lips going up. 

“Right.” Lilian has a title head and narrow eyes, like I have something more to tell. “Are you going with h…”

“God! Lilian you’re making this awkward, I’ll invite Gael to come with me; Joe just invited me and gave me the tickets.” I shiver at her mind making a whole story that fast. 

“Sorry! You put all the things for me to start to make my own theories.” She looks more relieved going back to her task.

“He has a girl he likes! OMG! We've been talking about that!” I stand walking to the kitchen to make dinner.

“I know! But… I thought that girl might be you!” I heard Jason asking if everything was alright, he heard the screams. “Fine, Y/N and I we’re having a talk.”

I giggle, imagining Jason nod as he comes out slowly for the bedroom, he has seen and heard our talks so he knows we tend to raise our voices. 

“See, even you scare Jason.” I chuckle seeing her face turning red. “Whatever I have to go.” 

Lilian nods, taking her phone so she can whisper something. “Have fun with…”

I hang out laughing at how imaginative she could be most of the time.

Sunday morning, I found Gael waiting for me one hour before the game started. Honestly I wouldn't mind coming on time, either I don’t mind seeing Joe a little bit more.

“All I’m saying is these are pretty good seats.” I followed Gael through the corridors of the stadium until we came out. “See, just behind the touchdown line.”

Our seats were a few distance from the middle of the touchdown line, having an amazing view of the field, and soon of the game. On the field the players from both teams are finishing their warm ups, going to the locker room and getting ready for the ceremony.

“You know what would be crazy?” Gael said as we sat marveling at the view we had. “They walk right for that hallway.” He points to the big entrance a few meters from us.

I scoff taking a picture for sending to Collin who I bet will burn for this. “Wait, I thought you had already come to a game before.”

Gael nods. “But not this close. These seats at this time of the season are expensive.”

His words trigger something on my mind. “Joe has a box here, right?” He nods and points to where it’s. 

Even from a distance I see a few people there and I keep wondering if the mysterious girl is here too. I am dying to meet her. 

“You think you can get us a pass for that?” He raises and lowers his eyebrows making me laugh.

My words get stuck when I see Joe walking to the other side of the field, he finishes his warm ups, fully concentrates; takes a few minutes to sing and greet the fans near that zone. 

“Damn it! So close.” I chuckle, Gael complains like he didn’t see him at least once at time in the store.

A balling game, what you heard it could be a game of few points turn on the ball coming on going to the other side of the field.

Related to the ideas of Lilian still lingering on my head I almost could swear that in a touchdown Joe approached way too much to zone where we are. 

By the end of the game, Bengals win for a touchdown; we remain until the last players left the field, waving our hands to Joe who left after answering some questions. 

On our way to take a bus, I received a text from Joe; he asked if I could bring a bouquet of opium puppies in an hour when all the duties of the game ended. 

Gael offers to come with me to the florist’s and go back with me but it’s Sunday, I’ll be able to handle this. 

“What does it mean?” Gael asked me to give him the last flower. “The flower.”

“Peace and hope.” He nods. “Why?”

Gael opened his mouth but closed it again. “Nothing, it’s just… Nevermind, my tricky mind.”

“Are you sure?” I put the bow in the middle. 

He nods. “You think you’ll meet the girl today?” Gael asked, sitting on the chair.

I don’t know who's more excited, him or me. “I’m counting on that.”

Joe gave indications for which part of the stadium I must get in, so I just followed instructions when I found a girl at the door, just like he said.

“Hi, I…” The girl smiles at me like she found a treasure.

“Y/N, right?” I nod and extend the bouquet to give it to her but she shakes her head. “Oh, no, Joe asked us to let you come, this way please.”

I follow her seeing players coming out tired but clearly excited for going home with their families and a home win.

“Wait, wait.” A big guy stops us looking at me with narrow eyes. “Cute girl, with flowers and… “ His eyes turn wide open. “Y/N?”

I take a step back, surprised by he actually knows my name, the girl giggles but doesn't say another word. 

Ja’mar who was walking behind him, eyes on his phone, stops when he hears my name. 

“Y/N?” He looks at the bow on my hands. “Please don’t tell me my man makes you bring this.”

“Am, yeah?” Chase shakes his head, making me more confused than I was a second ago.

“Why are so many…” A new guy appears with a bag on his hands, when he sees me, like the two other guys he smiles. “You came here with flowers?”

I nod. “Yeah, Joe asked me this.” I innocent question couldn’t be harmful right? “You know the girl right?” All look at me with a choke head. “The girl who Joe likes?” 

My excitement left them speechless and confused. “Don’t you?” Chase asked with open eyes.

“How could I know her?!” I throw my head back frustrated. “Joe just came for flowers and…” 

The disbelieving expressions, and tender smiles bring memories to my mind; the unusual visits, the texts and photos, the eyes and smiles. Drain the blood of my brain.

“He gave you a pumpkin of Squidward?” The strength on my fingers faded away making the bouquet fall off my hands.

“Oh my…” My phone starts to sound, with trembling hands I take out of my pocket finding the name of Joe on the screen.

Unable to pick up, my brain starts to work as fast as it can, when I lift my eyes, my heart stops for a second.

Joe was walking outside, with comfy clothes as his eyes are on his phone and in his hands a beanie. My phone rang one more time, he heard it lifting his eyes and found me surrendered by big guys, a bouquet on my feet and I swear pale as a ghost.

“You...”  

[unicornsaures]

Post-war redcoat trio lore....

tw // death, overdose(sorry guys)

This is mainly William & Henry focused. I fear theyre more tragic than Charles.

Starting with Charles(the least depressing one I fear) he goes back to Pennsylvania to live with his wife, Charlotte, by 1781. He goes to law school late, but eventually becomes a lawyer, which out of the three, means he stays in touch with Hamilton the easiest. He stays a loyalist despite the wars end, but he doesnt hold it against the colonies or anything. He stays in contact with Henry and William the best he can, but the letter-sending is a hassle and he rarely receives response.(Whether that be because letters are lost or the two are just plain ignoring him who knows.) He eventually has two kids; Charles Gray II and Marceline Gray ^_^! Overall his life post-war is fine and he lives a fulfilling life, which brings us to 1825 when he dies at the age of 72 due to scarlet fever. He was happy overall and he loved life idk what to say, yay charles!

Onto William! He moves to South Carolina with Henry around the same time Charles leaves to go with his wife. They own a small plantation which in truth is closer to a farm if anything; by no means are they rich but theyre not struggling or anything. He attempted to court some women the first couple years back but ultimately gave up and decided it was too much of a hassle and that either way Henry is better company than any women could possibly be. William keeps in contact with Charles the best he can, Hamilton not so much. Though, during the war he'd been shot numerous times, most wounds being left untreated so hes stuck with chronic pain and a weakened immune system. This means for post-war William, his health is kind of shitty and he gets sick more often, leaving him bed ridden for days to weeks at a time. William mostly keeps to himself if he ever has to go out and leaves Henry to do most of the talking because god knows that even if hes "crude," Henry isnt nervous to talk. By late-1794, William catches influenza. His immune system is already awful, but not awful enough he dies quickly. Henry tries his best to care for him but its not enough, and by 1995, at the age of 40, he ends up passing from the illness.

Yeah okay, Henry! This is where the TW comes in. So, I mentioned a lot of his post-war situation in williams paragraph. They move in together, they have a plantation, theyre happy yeah! Woo! Okay, now he does get in a few relationships - the longest being two years from 1785 to 1787 - but none of them last longer. He falls in and out of depression with his constant worrying over Williams health, but its hidden well enough. Speaking of, he becomes rather talented medically-wise with how often hes tasked with caring for the other. He keeps in touch with Hamilton better than William, and he also still speaks with Charles, as is customary. Im just gonna jump to 1794, when williams health starts declining. Obviously, its a stressful period for Henry and he does his hardest to help him but clearly, it doesnt work. He has near run-ins with death for months after Williams death, hes being overall impulsive and acting erratically(as is expected, I suppose.) He drinks, does dumb shit, etc. Eventually, 6 months after William, he dies from an opium overdose at 38 in which is never confirmed if it was suicide or simply an accident. Neither Charles or Hamilton hear of either deaths until months later, when Henrys dad reaches out.

[mary-fantg]

How do you think Thomas would be if he had stayed married to Grace for 10 years?

Hello 👋An interesting question, what Tommy would have been like if Grace had been alive.....I think it would be not easy for them to be together, given the ambition, intelligence and leadership of each of them. But love, respect and admiration for each other would help them find compromises. I see that Tommy, 10 years later, still has two sides of his business (I think the opium trade has a place to be), with an emphasis on legal business, he is also a member of Parliament, also the leader of a political party, I think he is the same successful man as we see him in s6. But in his life there is a safe haven, his cozy home, his place of strength, a source of warmth and common sense, this is his home with Grace and the children. I think in 10 years they would have had a lot of children (at least three), they travel a lot, have their own stud farm, are actively engaged in secular life (although Thomas does not like it, but the position obliges), charity and education of their children. He is more confident, gentle, calm, he finds time to sleep and rest, he is loved, caressed, it gives him strength, he has a own beacon in life.

Grace is his right-hand man, colleague, friend, companion, she is on the board of directors of the Shelby Ltd. They argue, quarrel, violently discuss important decisions, but always quickly soften up, talk to each other and make up hotly at night 🥰

The rest of the Shelby family live as they were shown to us at the beginning of s4.

Lizzie is fired after the incident with the Italians in s3.

In fact, a live Grace would not have interfered with the storylines of all subsequent seasons in any way. It would have been necessary to simply exclude Tommy's intimate relationships with Tatiana, Jesse and Diana, while retaining these characters in the narrative. And the confrontation of Tommy's duets/Grace and Mosley/Diana would be just great, considering how smart and beautiful Grace is. She would have tucked Diana into her belt in two counts. I think the author was just too lazy to work out the character of Grace and the arc of their relationship with Tommy properly. In an interview, he himself admitted that there are a lot of characters and he does not have time to pay attention to everyone. Although I understand that it would be a completely different story. Tommy would be happy, and this is probably not right and not fair, given his lifestyle and criminal activities. But it would have been possible to invent Grace's death at the end of the series, instead of the story with Ruby, and this would have been the logical conclusion of Tommy's happiness, his loss, retribution and his pain for the rest of his life. Maybe the death of his children else. To show that everything in life has a price, you have to pay for everything. And no amount of money will help you buy off the sins of the past.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“OPIUM IS FOUND IN LAUNDRY AND OWNER ARRESTED,” Hamilton Spectator. March 5, 1931. Page 7. ---- Lee Wong Committed For Trial To-day ---- Abduction Case is Sent To Juvenile Court ---- Youth is Accused of Stealing Club Bag ---- Lee Wong, West avenue north was before Magistrate Burbidge in police court this morning on charge of possessing illegally, and was committed for trial on this count.

Edward Murphy, K.C. Toronto, acted for the crown, while Richard Greer, KC, of Toronto, and Lewis were the defense lawyers. 

Sergeant F. W Zaneth, of the RCMP. and Detective Jack Thompson made a search of the premises on February 5, and the Dominion officer found a tin containing a small quantity of opium among the parcels of laundry. No pipes or other articles to use the drug were found, however. A quantity of American cigarets that had apparently been smuggled, were also found in the laundry. Sent to Other Courts George J. Miller. 306 Royal apartments, was charged with assaulting and beating his wife, Kathleen, and the case was transferred to the domestic relations court next Tuesday afternoon. Bail was set at $400.

The case of Frank Ashton, Vancouver who is charged with abduction and also contributing to juvenile delinquency, was sent to the juvenile court sitting this afternoon.

William Bedell, 118 Young street, charged with permitting drunkenness, was told to appear in the liquor court on Tuesday at 11.30.

Lad Arraigned John Brown, 80 Burlington street east, age 17, appeared on a charge of stealing a club-beg containing wearing apparel, the value of which was 2.75. The young lad was only arrested a few minutes before he appeared in court and be didn't seem to know how to elect, so J. B. Chambers, who happened to be in court, volunteered to defend him. An adjournment defense to be prepared.

Vags Sentenced Frank Launders, of Fruitland, who on Tuesday was told by the magistrate to leave the city, was found begging on the streets again and to-day he answered to another vagrancy charge. He was sentenced to six months determinate and 25 months indeterminate at Burwash.

Frank Benn, Toronto, was also sentenced to from six to 12 months in the reformatory when convicted of begging. 

Hamiton Fraught, as 18-year-old vagrant, was placed on probation for two years and told to get home to North Bay. 

Adjournments Fred Higgs, 53 New street, charged by the Hyatt Roofing company with false pretense, granted an adjournment until Friday The crown alleges that Biggs forged orders on the Hyatt company Biggs was granted bail of $2000.

Stanley Thin, Clyde street, answered to a ticket scalping charges, and because Harry Hagel, his counsel, was absent from the city, he was granted an adjournment until Tuesday Officers Maddock, and Nesbitt, who were on duty at the arena last evening, claim that Thin was selling 37c tickets for $1 and he had 17 tickets in his possession when arrested. Bail was set at $50.

Deputy's Plea Successful Marion Hannaford, 30 Inchbury street, appeared on a vagrancy charge again today and in view of recognisance the girl was under from previous conviction the magistrate was about to sentence her when the deputy-chief entered such strong plea on the girl's behalf that his worship placed stricter terms on her probation and allowed her to go. Mr. Goodman said he was sure the girt could be made to live a normal life if she was placed under strict supervision.

[veganpeachpie]

Books without overwhelming romance

I feel like a lot of books people talk about these days have a heavy focus on romance and spice, which really isn't my cup of tea, and it's hard to find good recommendations that don't have that. So here are some YA/adult books I love that don't have romance as a huge part of the plot!

(There may be some minor romantic subplots, but they aren't a major focus.)

The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles In June, 1954, eighteen-year-old Emmett Watson is driven home to Nebraska by the warden of the work farm where he has just served a year for involuntary manslaughter. His mother long gone, his father recently deceased, and the family farm foreclosed upon by the bank, Emmett’s intention is to pick up his eight-year-old brother and head west where they can start their lives anew. But when the warden drives away, Emmett discovers that two friends from the work farm have hidden themselves in the trunk of the warden’s car. Together, they have hatched an altogether different plan for Emmett’s future.

A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles In 1922, Count Alexander Rostov is deemed an unrepentant aristocrat by a Bolshevik tribunal, and is sentenced to house arrest in the Metropol, a grand hotel across the street from the Kremlin. Rostov, an indomitable man of erudition and wit, has never worked a day in his life, and must now live in an attic room while some of the most tumultuous decades in Russian history are unfolding outside the hotel’s doors. Unexpectedly, his reduced circumstances provide him entry into a much larger world of emotional discovery.

Babel by R.F. Kuang 1828. Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, is brought to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell. There, he trains for years in Latin, Ancient Greek, and Chinese, all in preparation for the day he’ll enroll in Oxford University’s prestigious Royal Institute of Translation—also known as Babel. The tower and its students are the world's center for translation and, more importantly, magic. Silver-working—the art of manifesting the meaning lost in translation using enchanted silver bars—has made the British unparalleled in power, as the arcane craft serves the Empire's quest for colonization. For Robin, Oxford is a utopia dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. But knowledge obeys power, and as a Chinese boy raised in Britain, Robin realizes serving Babel means betraying his motherland. As his studies progress, Robin finds himself caught between Babel and the shadowy Hermes Society, an organization dedicated to stopping imperial expansion. When Britain pursues an unjust war with China over silver and opium, Robin must decide . . .

This Savage Song by V.E. Schwab Kate Harker and August Flynn are the heirs to a divided city—a city where the violence has begun to breed actual monsters. All Kate wants is to be as ruthless as her father, who lets the monsters roam free and makes the humans pay for his protection. All August wants is to be human, as good-hearted as his own father, to play a bigger role in protecting the innocent—but he’s one of the monsters. One who can steal a soul with a simple strain of music. When the chance arises to keep an eye on Kate, who’s just been kicked out of her sixth boarding school and returned home, August jumps at it. But Kate discovers August’s secret, and after a failed assassination attempt the pair must flee for their lives.

Anxious People by Frederick Backman Viewing an apartment normally doesn’t turn into a life-or-death situation, but this particular open house becomes just that when a failed bank robber bursts in and takes everyone in the apartment hostage. As the pressure mounts, the eight strangers begin slowly opening up to one another and reveal long-hidden truths. As police surround the premises and television channels broadcast the hostage situation live, the tension mounts and even deeper secrets are slowly revealed. Before long, the robber must decide which is the more terrifying prospect: going out to face the police, or staying in the apartment with this group of impossible people.

The Midnight Library by Matt Haig Somewhere out beyond the edge of the universe there is a library that contains an infinite number of books, each one the story of another reality. One tells the story of your life as it is, along with another book for the other life you could have lived if you had made a different choice at any point in your life. While we all wonder how our lives might have been, what if you had the chance to go to the library and see for yourself? Would any of these other lives truly be better? Nora Seed finds herself faced with this decision. Faced with the possibility of changing her life for a new one, following a different career, undoing old breakups, realizing her dreams of becoming a glaciologist; she must search within herself as she travels through the Midnight Library to decide what is truly fulfilling in life, and what makes it worth living in the first place.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak It is 1939. Nazi Germany. The country is holding its breath. Death has never been busier, and will be busier still. By her brother's graveside, Liesel's life is changed when she picks up a single object, partially hidden in the snow. It is The Gravedigger's Handbook, left behind there by accident, and it is her first act of book thievery. So begins a love affair with books and words, as Liesel, with the help of her accordian-playing foster father, learns to read. Soon she is stealing books from Nazi book-burnings, the mayor's wife's library, wherever there are books to be found. But these are dangerous times. When Liesel's foster family hides a Jew in their basement, Liesel's world is both opened up, and closed down.

The synopses were all taken from Goodreads. Feel free to comment/DM me if you have any questions about these!

[yesornopolls]

Do you think we'd solve a lot of the drug problem by burning the opium farms around the world?

[puppyocto]

The symbolism of poppies and abusive fh

Do you guys ever think about the symbolism of poppies in Jimmy and Scott's relationship cause I do. Too much I read a book about poppies so I could understand it better. By the way you have to already believe in abusive flower husbands for this we're going straight into it. Ok now poppies are red and this, this could be so simple. Red is the colour of love and is Jimmy's favourite colour so that's all it is right? Well red also symbolises rage and anger. And it's such a sharp colour. Unlike Scott, Scott is subtle in ways red is not. So in many ways Scott is fighting against the colour red, it is all the things he is not and directly calls out his flaws. We see this in Scott's colour palette, Scott is blue directly contrasting red. Now Jimmy shares a lot of traits with the colour red, Jimmy like the colour is sharp and aggressive, and while we love that about him Scott does not. We see the same arguments Scott's colour palette has with the colour red in Jimmy and Scott's relationship. Scott spends a lot of the relationship removing any "red elements" from Jimmy's personality, breaking him down to a calmer, but more disengaged person. So the fact that the flower Jimmy gives Scott is red shows the ways he will give up himself. And I think in many ways the red poppy is a demonstration of who Jimmy should've been. But poppies only trait isn't being red, they are also symbols of farming. Yet within this they are an agricultural weed. So all I can imagine here is Jimmy planting poppies in their farm as a sweet gesture about their future success and Scott telling him off about how they will hinder the crops growing. And is Scott wrong? No. But he doesn't even attempt to understand Jimmy's gesture or where Jimmy is coming from. And finally Poppies produce opium, which I think links to the ways Jimmy unhealthily copes with being placed in an abusive relationship. Linking to his internalisation of Scott's behaviour rather than leaving Scott or understanding that he is in the wrong. The death symbolism of the opium poppy also links to the innate danger Jimmy is in not just within the life series as a whole but while he is around Scott.

[oleworm]

Though unjustly reviewed as a film that one suffers through, or that is too brutal to watch, I enjoyed my experience of The Nightingale (2018) very much, especially the developing friendship between the characters of Billy Mangana, an Aboriginal tracker who has decided that he will no longer work with the British, and Clare, an Irish convict in unwilling service to the colonial forces—both of whom lost their families at the hands of the British and who can never go home, one because the land and his people have been destroyed through genocide and the other because she was transported with no means of return, as a consequence of the class system that drove her to commit theft. The music and the nature stand out, the sounds of Tasmanian birds and marsupials, the vegetation and the geological features—one of the most subtle horror details is the appearance of an English farming village near to the end of the film, the consolidation of British lifeways in a land that was not originally empty but that is being made so, to create scenes of country life that would not be out of place in an Austen film.

It’s interesting that though it came out the same year as The Terror (2018) and they deal with similar topics it appears to have appealed to a completely different audience. Perhaps because one work is more subtle in its criticism of imperialism, while also being an adventure story among other things, to the point where those who choose to ignore it can easily do so, while for the other it is a central theme, and the violence employed to enforce the structures of the empire is directly shown. The Nightingale has good acting and writing, proper costuming, beautiful landscapes and music, all the things that made The Terror great—maybe people never heard of it, or were put off by hypersensitive reviewers, but it does surprise me that not many have seen it. Myself included! I only watched it yesterday. But why I didn’t do so before is a subject to explore in a personal journal, not a blog post, though if I come to a conclusion I would like to share I will certainly do so.

One of the biggest contrasts between both works is how the hierarchies of the Navy and Army are treated. In The Terror, it is up to the viewer to decide how they feel about these structures and those at its head. I can’t think of any character at the top of the hierarchy who is portrayed with more negatives than positives, even Franklin—whose presence in Tasmania is alluded to, but not dug into, an Easter egg for those who have read about it—is portrayed more as a pompous fool than the overseer of a genocidal colonial government, and while Fitzjames’ exploits in China are explicitly described and he dies as a result of injuries received in the First Opium War his character is sympathetically portrayed, to the point that like with Franklin it is often treated as just a bit of historical flavour. Class and rank structures are deeply ingrained in both sets of characters, but where mutineers in The Terror were interpreted as villains for sabotaging and breaking away from the group, and imperfect leader Crozier becomes one of the best loved characters, in The Nightingale we have Lieutenant Hawkins, who while initially charming and played by a conventionally attractive actor—he even looks similar to Edward Little, a popular character in The Terror fandom—consistently brutalises not only the convicts and the Aboriginal people, but also his own men. They are both loyal and afraid, like dogs abandoned, threatened and killed when they have fulfilled their purpose or no longer perform to the level that their superior expects of them. One could say, they are in it for personal gain, but after a certain point in the film there is nothing that he can give them, and yet they persist. Why do they follow him? Why don’t they run away into the bush? When I was thinking about this question, I remembered the character of Thomas Hartnell, who after being lashed does everything he can to please Crozier, the one who gave the order, but except a few people (you know who you are!) many viewers saw this positively in contrast to Hickey who developed a hatred of Crozier and ceased to respect the hierarchical order.

There’s also the fact that we see what happened to the Tasmanians after the British arrive, but we only see the beginning of what will happen to the Inuit. At the time that The Terror ends, only a few of the many search-and-rescue expeditions have made it to the Arctic, whose explorations led to the establishment of a stronger European presence in the North, with all that it involved.

So what was it? 126 white men syndrome, which makes this show attractive to people with an especial interest in men? Are more realistic portrayals of imperialism and colonialism too uncomfortable? Since many fandom participants are women, is it too heavy to think that women can be—and regularly were—assaulted under such circumstances? Are we not too different from the Reddit men who love adventures and the friends we made along the way, to the detriment of other themes important to the story? You decide. For me it’s a little bit of everything.

[et-omniam]

We killed native Americans. We killed people in the Philippines. We killed Haitians. We committed heinous, disgusting war crimes in okinawa. We killed italian civilians and POW. Over 400 recorded rapes in England by American servicemen. We killed Nicaraguans. We killed Vietnamese people. We killed Panamanians. Look up Abu ghraib. Anyone forget about the blackwater guys that killed 24 women and children and just got pardoned by Trump like no biggy. Obviously, our government would never do anything even remotely close to this awful shit to it's own people. Even if it meant that we would have justification to take back control of all the opium farms that were burned somewhere that's definitely not in the Middle East. Now we're killing Palestinians. If you think this was Israel's idea all along, I would ask that you direct your attention to literally America's favorite move: getting someone else to do it so they take the blame. Most of the wars America has caused were over natives not wanting to buy or produce heroin. We are the biggest, most evil company in the world, and I'm leaving one day. Once I know I'm not a citizen of this country anymore, I might breathe a little easier knowing that at least I'm not benefitting from hate and hell untold put unto the rest of the world. If you think you can defend this country's honor somehow, you are just as morally bankrupt as it is.

[whencyclopedia]

Smoke and Ashes: Opium's Hidden Histories

"Smoke and Ashes: Opium’s Hidden Histories" is a sweeping and jarring work of how opium became an insidious capitalistic tool to generate wealth for the British Empire and other Western powers at the expense of an epidemic of addiction in China and the impoverishment of millions of farmers in India. The legacy of this “criminal enterprise,” as the author puts it, left lasting influences that reverberate across cultures and societies even today.

Written in engaging language, Smoke and Ashes is a scholarly follow-up to the author’s famous Ibis trilogy, a collection of fiction that uses the opium trade as its backdrop. In Smoke and Ashes, the author draws on his years-long research into opium supplemented by his family history, personal travels, cross-cultural experience, and expertise in works of historical verisimilitude. Composed over 18 chapters, the author delves into a diverse set of primary and secondary data, including Chinese sources. He also brings a multidimensional angle to the study by highlighting the opium trade's legacy in diverse areas such as art, architecture, horticulture, printmaking, and calligraphy. 23 pictorial illustrations serve as powerful eyewitness accounts to the discourse.

This book should interest students and scholars seeking historical analysis based on facts on the ground instead of colonial narratives. Readers will also find answers to how opium continues to play an outsize role in modern-day conflicts, addictions, corporate behavior, and globalism.

Amitav Ghosh’s research convincingly points out that while opium had always been used for recreational purposes across cultures, it was the Western powers such as the British, Portuguese, the Spaniards, and the Dutch that discovered its significant potential as a trading vehicle. Ghosh adds that colonial rulers, especially the British, often rationalized their actions by arguing that the Asian population was naturally predisposed to narcotics. However, it was British India that bested others in virtually monopolizing the market for the highly addictive Indian opium in China. Used as a currency to redress the East India Company (EIC)’s trade deficit with China, the opium trade by the 1890s generated about five million sterling a year for Britain. Meanwhile, as many as 40 million Chinese became addicted to opium.

Eastern India became the epicenter of British opium production. Workers in opium factories in Patna and Benares toiled under severe conditions, often earning less than the cost of production while their British managers lived in luxury. Ghosh asserts that opium farming permanently impoverished a region that was an economic powerhouse before the British arrived. Ghosh’s work echoes developmental economists such as Jonathan Lehne, who has documented opium-growing communities' lower literacy and economic progress compared to their neighbors.

Ghosh states that after Britain, “the country that benefited most from the opium trade” with China, was the United States. American traders skirted the British opium monopoly by sourcing from Turkey and Malwa in Western India. By 1818, American traders were smuggling about one-third of all the opium consumed in China. Many powerful families like the Astors, Coolidges, Forbes, Irvings, and Roosevelts built their fortunes from the opium trade. Much of this opium money, Ghosh shows, also financed banking, railroads, and Ivy League institutions. While Ghosh mentions that many of these families developed a huge collection of Chinese art, he could have also discussed that some of their holdings were most probably part of millions of Chinese cultural icons plundered by colonialists.

Ghosh ends the book by discussing how the EIC's predatory behaviors have been replicated by modern corporations, like Purdue Pharma, that are responsible for the opium-derived OxyContin addiction. He adds that fossil fuel companies such as BP have also reaped enormous profits at the expense of consumer health or environmental damage.

Perhaps one omission in this book is that the author does not hold Indian opium traders from Malwa, such as the Marwaris, Parsis, and Jews, under the same ethical scrutiny as he does to the British and the Americans. While various other works have covered the British Empire's involvement in the opium trade, most readers would find Ghosh's narrative of American involvement to be eye-opening. Likewise, his linkage of present-day eastern India's economic backwardness to opium is both revealing and insightful.

Winner of India's highest literary award Jnanpith and nominated author for the Man Booker Prize, Amitav Ghosh's works concern colonialism, identity, migration, environmentalism, and climate change. In this book, he provides an invaluable lesson for political and business leaders that abdication of ethics and social responsibility have lasting consequences impacting us all.

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