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#Rat Control in Essex
vivanightcity · 9 months
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Name: Yash 'V' Vala
Age: 23
Gender + Pronouns: Man, he/him
Occupation: Courier and runner, both legally and less so. Largely operating in the southern parts of NC, but officially covers the whole city. If something small and physical needs to be somewhere safe and fast and undetected? He's a pretty good option.
Cyberware: Sandevistan, gills, grip feet, reinforced tendons, smuggling compartments in his legs. (Gills provide up to 4 hours of time underwater without resurfacing, given where he got them, they include a filter to help - but not eliminate - the trouble from unclean or dangerous waters. Grip feet basically makes feet prehensile and adds an extra grip surface to the bottom. The storage space used for smuggling is just small compartments, 2 x 6 inches, one in each thigh.)
Long form backstory under the cut: It's long yall, I went a bit ott with it.
His mom was from the Raven and Rats nomadic group when her family arrived in London. Settling their narrowboats in what would’ve been around Limehouse - since the flooding caused by the Thames Barrier bombing, there were a lot of new routes and waterways for the nomads.
After the fall of the thames barrier, Equinox more or less left that area of east london to rot. Seeing it as too much effort for what they’d get back. So for decades there was rampant crime in an almost entirely ungoverned and abandoned city. Officially, no one there existed. No one lived there. Despite the crowded streets of floating walkways, and salvaged tops of flooded old brick buildings turned into rare dry outcroppings, and houseboats, narrowboats, floating shacks made of salvage, littered the entire place. It was alive. Always was. Just. Not according to the government.
In the mid 2050s, there was another push to reclaim and control the area. As it grew, moving into the flooded thames, encroaching more into the highly militarized City and Westminster, there were more clashes between BCF - British Combined Forces - and citizens, as well as criminal groups that used the growing slums and waterways to their benefit. 
Multiple corporations, especially those with headquarters in the city, were pushing for the government to take action and start up a new Urban Development Committee after the past ones failed, or abandoned, the area, to at least get the border pushed back.
ETB - English Tourist Board - wanted to clean up the city to make it more appealing again, especially with R&R and other trouble making groups being able to hide more easily in the sprawling river. IMA - Imperial Metropolitan Agriculture - wanted to use the large flooded space to build artificial floating island farms, to make the most out of the potential, as more and more of the Good British Soil (TM) was being worked to death and lost to city expansion. If they wanted to keep telling people to BUY BRITISH (TM) they’d need more space. 
It was easy to hide the initial clashes and push back, these weren’t residents, there was no proof they were even UK citizens, so it was easy to sell it as the typical xenophobic fearmongering that kept so many in check. Only the east end wasn’t going down easy, and the BCF found themselves against a strangely, and worryingly, united force of nomadic groups who needed the river, criminal groups that thrived in the ungoverned corners, and even militia groups from a bit further east, as the thames basins flooding was felt all the way along, with many areas of South Essex not caring a shit about what was happening in Colchester and the north, but connecting - as they always did - with east london. A shared river, a shared blood, a shared history. So it was easy to redirect from action in East Anglia to a new front. 
Yash’s family were not involved. Like many civilians, they were just caught in between. He wasn’t even born yet when his father was killed. Shot by BCF working as private security on behalf of EBT to scout and find historic areas that could be salvaged of worth or even turned into tourist destinations - the top of greenwich hill, the observatory itself, being a great place to start trying to reclaim for tourism, from the destruction it has seen after decades of apparent ‘misuse’ as a crowded indoor market, with the rare areas of dry actual earth and land around it turned into lush community garden. All fiercely protected by a tight community, quickly labelled as a ‘gang’ by the government. His father worked there, as a mechanic, helping people repair their boats and homewares. When the EBT scouts tried to clear people out, they were harassing people who worked there, civilians of all kinds, including the elderly and children. They moved too slow, they didn’t listen or respond as wanted, to screamed orders and threats. 
His dad stepped in to argue with them, unarmed, untrained, but angry, they can’t treat people like that, and he got shot for his trouble. He was considered a hero to many of them, and his death was a spark for that mislabelled gang to maybe take the label more seriously. If they were going to treat them like criminals, they’ll defend themselves like criminals. When EBT returned to take the royal observatory by force, they were fought back. It was bloody and violent, and the locals lost a lot more people, but they won. There is a mural of those lost still in the observatory, touched up, and sometimes added to, over the decades since. His dad is front and center.
Both his older brothers knew their father very well, being 13 and 9 at the time he was killed. They both deified him, and the fight he set off, and went whole-hog anti-government and anti-corp. They’re, essentially, Rockerboys. (I just can’t remember if Rockerboy is only for that specific genre, or can be applied to any and all anti-authoritarian musicians in the cyberpunk verse? If it’s only the genre, then it doesn’t fit.). They were founding members of the Foundlings. A community gang made up of kids around their age who saw what was done to try and erase the east end, and are going to guerilla warfare street tactics the shit out of things to protect their home. The name coming from the pure numbers who were orphaned and alone after what became seen as a war with the corporations and BCF along the river. 
Yash always tried to keep up with his brothers, but they wouldn’t let him, he was too young, he didn’t understand fully why they did what they did. He was raised with a hatred and distrust of corps and government, and a fierce personal anger for them taking a father he never got to know from him, but he didn’t see the level of violence that the war was. He wasn’t involved. There were still clashes, but it wasn’t the same. The metal wars were in the news, sure, but they weren’t theirs to care about. They had enough trouble on their front door step. 
He got his job as a courier initially through the Mudlarks - A more recent, largely non-violent, smuggling group that operates along the river - not knowing that his brothers put some pressure in to stop him being allowed into the more criminal aspects, even with that, he eventually started pushing to get involved in running dead drops and collections along the river during low tide.
It was the mudlarks that landed him in NC. A london based gin maker - an illegal business without licensing - needed to get some out to NC because an NC based celebrity was throwing a party, and was requesting it. Deep pockets and an affinity since they’d done a world tour and tried some in London.
It was his job to see it got there safely. They’d have someone meeting the cargo at the other end, but he had to accompany it on the orbital transit. When he gets into NCX, he is indeed met, but by NCPD and orbital corp customs. He managed to duck them, but it wasn’t like he could walk back into NCX and try to leave, although NCPD seemed to drop the grudge quickly, he knew Orbital Corp still had him on the no-fly list. On the plus side, he did get a pretty decent pay day when he delivered the order to Empathy, no middle man cut for people in NC. He still transferred what was owed to the mudlarks back to them, but kept the rest. 
They told him to lie low, and even gave him some contacts, largely within Pacifica, Heywood, and the City Center. Pacifica felt the most like home, so he set up shop, got in good with the right fixers, spent some time learning the fastest ways around, and built a good reputation from there.
'V' was actually the symbol his brothers used as a tag, the name they released music under, and they'd always talk a big game about how it was for the east ends victory over the BCF, and the peace they're fighting for etc. etc. but Yash knows damn well that last bit is just a line they thought up later. Typical younger brother, the second he got the chance, he took it. Decided V was his thing now. They couldn't stop him all this way from home after all.
He meets Jackie in the canonical Streetkid way, just without the Heywood local vibes.
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jflpestcontrol-blog · 5 years
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JFL Pest Control Offers Pest Controller in East London
Pest control in houses and at commercial warehouses is surely one of the biggest challenges for the pest control companies. Different kinds of pests, insects and animals can plague your warehouse. Pest Controller in East London understands the basic requirements of the pest control at any location.
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The stocks of the food and additional perishables add to the intricacy of treating warehouses. If you wish to get rid from the bees in your area, it is better to look ahead with Bees Control in Essex. Just contact the team of professional at JFL Pest Control to get rid from the numerous troubles.
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karensfifthsense · 4 years
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The 7 Top Ways to Deter Rats from your garden
Table of ContentsTop Insider Tips regarding Humane Rat TrapsLocal technicians for Rats NestTop Secrets about Get Rid Of RatsFinding the Best 24 Hour Pest ControlPest Control Near Me24 Hour Pest Control Near MeRats In Compost Bin Near Me
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It needs to be dark brown, be damp however not wet and look really comparable to soil with no obvious bits in it.
Friday 1 Might 2020 Composting in your home fasts to establish and much easier than you might believe. The process is simple, but it is essential to get the essentials right from the start to ensure you get the finest from your house compost bin. Put your compost bin on bare soil in a warm spot where possible Include a 50:50 mix of green (lawn, fruit peelings and coffee grounds) and brown (eggshells, newspaper, cardboard, dry leaves and twigs) products to your compost bin.
This implies your soil improver is now ready to utilize on your garden. Spread the soil improver on borders and vegetable spots, to include nutrient-rich material and structure to the soil. This ought to result in healthier plants. For a potting soil appropriate for growing most veggies, mix two-parts soil improver to one-part sieved garden soil.
The 3 Top Best Pest Control solutions
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Leading firms for Humane Rat Traps
Products such as meat, bones, dairy and cooked veggies ought to not be put in your home compost bin. These foods need to be composted at a greater temperature and may encourage unwanted pests and odours in your house compost bin. These items can instead be placed in your kerbside food waste caddy for recycling.
feline litter and other animal faeces as the composting process can not destroy the parasites and germs, which can be very hazardous to individuals nappies and any type of plastic Your compost bin shouldn't smell unpleasant - rats in my compost bin. If you discover that it does it may indicate that it includes excessive damp material and does not have air.
This need to resolve the problem. It's extremely unlikely that your compost bin will draw in rats. Try to disturb your compost bin as often as possible, this might simply be by frequently visiting your compost bin to add product or blend the contents with a garden fork. Prevent including any meat, fish or dairy products to your bin.
Local firms for Deter Rats
To assist Essex residents start with home composting, we provide subsidised compost bins. To acquire a subsidised compost bin: You should reside in statutory Essex (which doesn't consist of Southend and Thurrock). Have the compost bin provided to your Essex address Choose in between either a 220l or 330l sized compost bin You can purchase two of the very same size compost bins and will get a further 50% of the cost of the second bin.
All you need to do is enter your Essex postcode and your discount will be immediately used. However, if a compost bin is not for you, you can always develop your own compost heap from materials that you have lying around. compost bins and rats.
Is it normal to have rats in the compost load? I believed I was being all green and excellent in buying among those plastic compost bins instead of provide my veg to the council, and I've been really proficient at filling it up all summer. We don't put yard in as our lawnmower mulches the lawn cuttings, so it's just kitchen waste, however I make sure I only put raw veg, fruit, eggshells, teabags etc and never put anything cooked into it, never ever anything like bread or meat - yet today, I opened the lid and there was a huge rat therein.
Finding the Recommended Get Rid Of Rats
I can't believe that I in fact threw today's offerings (rotten cucumber and some potato peelings) in on top of him and knocked the lid shut - he could have lacked the hole in shock and up my leg - yeuch!I thought that the stuff was composting truly well as the level never ever seemed to be increasing, however it must have been a lovely buffet for rodents.
I'm so horrified that I have actually simply rinsed our old, overlooked council-supplied compost bin, and I'll be using that in future (and letting the council have rats) unless someone can suggest something to get rid of young Roland (something that does not require me looking in that bin ever again). 0.
on July 16, 2018 If you have actually got undesirable rodents living in your compost bin a basic and efficient way of keeping them out is by adding vermin mesh onto the bottom of it. Vermin mesh (aka rodent mesh) is made from thick wire (around 2mm) and has small squares that child rodents can't squeeze through.
Finding the 5 Star Rated Compost Bins And Rats
Vermin mesh The very first action is to choose up some vermin mesh from your regional hardware store we got it in a roll of 5m as we understand we'll utilize it for bits and pieces around our property. Some stores will sell it by the metre just call around until you find the finest place. Which's it! So quick and simple. The only tools you need are some excellent wire cutters. From here you can find your compost bin somewhere convenient in your garden. We have actually placed ours near our chooks and goats who we feed every morning, this makes it simple for us to place food scraps in there on the exact same trip effeciency plus! You can also dig the compost bin into the soil 200mm to create another barrier to the rodents from getting in however normally the vermin mesh suffices to do the job.
This makes it simple for us to add a small container of carbon with each container of food scraps that goes in. We likewise make sure we slice up our food scrasp to the size of a 20 cent coin to assist them break down quicker. For something that take less than an hour to do, you'll be kicking yourself you didn't do this years back.
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Local firms for Humane Rat Traps
You're never ever even more than 6ft far from a rat in the city, or two the over-inflated metropolitan myth goes. Although 160ft might be a little more accurate a distance, the thought that our garden and allotment compost heaps can attract rats, typically puts a great deal of individuals off composting. The important things is, by not composting, you're missing out on a source of natural fertilizer for your garden that is completely FREE and: Enhances your garden's soil in a way that assists maintain moisture, reduce plant diseases and decreases the requirement for chemical fertilizers Motivates the production of useful germs and fungi that break down organic matter to produce rich nutrient-filled product (" humus") that naturally fertilizes your plants for long-term much healthier development Not to point out that by NOT tossing out your compost waste with your basic rubbish, you're likewise helping to lower methane emissions (a powerful greenhouse gas) from landfill and to lower your carbon footprint.
Finding the Best Rats Nest
Your compost heap must have alternate layers of the following 3 types of organic product components: brown materials (like dead leaves, straw, twigs and woodchippings) that supply carbon for your compost, green products (like fruit and veg scraps, lawn clippings and fresh plants) that supply nitrogen, water for moisture to assist break down the natural matter.
It's easy to produce your own compost heap in your garden. All you require to do is: Select a dry, shady spot near a water source for your compost heap or bin. Add brown and green products as they are collected, ensuring bigger pieces are sliced or shredded - rat pest control. Moisten dry products as they are included.
Optional: Cover top of compost with a tarpaulin to keep it damp. When the product at the bottom is dark and rich in colour, your compost is all set to use. This generally takes anywhere in between two months to two years depending on how well you handle it and are actively composting.
Local firms for Rats In My Compost Bin
Keeping your compost stack actively composting (with the appropriate mix of greens, browns and water) is a good deterrent to rats in itself. After all, a clean compost pile, visited regularly, will be less appealing to them due to the fact that you'll be disturbing them and preserving a wet, uninviting area. Here are a couple of other ideas for keeping rats away from your compost Don't place your bin beside a fence or hedge, which gives rats unseen access leave a gap around it.
https://obsessionnuz.tumblr.com/post/624558914443362304/rats-in-compost-bin
⚡️ “Rats in Compost Bin”https://t.co/tUXgk8sYkx pic.twitter.com/6JyKAGe5D0
— Rats Compostbin (@RCompostbin)
July 24, 2020
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rogejones3976-blog · 5 years
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https://www.pestexterminatorsessex.co.uk/rodent-control/pest-control-rats
Full blown pest issues should be treated by an effective pest control business for the infestation to be controlled safely and effectively. There are genuine reasons why expert pest solutions work well. Rats are one of the best known difficult pest infestations to deal with. They are a health hazard where edible items are kept or cooked in your house or any type of business food establishment. Since having contracted multiple pest control experts in the Essex area and other places in the UK, this one seems particularly reliable.
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nightcoremoon · 6 years
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So I finally watched Deadpool 2. long post. very... very... very long.
back in 2009 my then 7 year old sister really got into avatar the last airbender and I hadn't really watched it but I had to share the tv with my four sisters and honestly between the kids television and disney sitcoms it was a breath of fresh air, and for a year and a half we would wait for reruns of episodes we hadn't seen yet. avatar was the show that got me into fandoms. alas, time passed and by the time korra was playing we'd moved to a different house and lost cable tv because the stepfather refused to pay child support and we were on a one parent income. we didn't really do anything together anymore either because I was in high school now. but then she got super into comic books. and I mean SUPER into them. especially harley quinn and deadpool. so when they announced the first movie and suicide squad we had both collectively lost our shit in excitement. alas, mom said she wasn't allowed to watch it since it was rated R and she was only 14. so one late february afternoon I was gonna take her out to see a movie. I told mom we were going to go see zoolander 2. in the car, I looked at her and said
we're not watching zoolander
and she screamed
and we watched deadpool
AND IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME
anyway more time passed and I heard that a second one was coming out and I wanted to do the same thing but that didn't happen and I lost my chance to see it in the theater. and then as I got enraptured in transitioning and working and a whole bunch of other stuff I just never got around to it. I did watch all of the supporting videos and trailers and stuff though. anyways, my sister (yes the same one) just rented it on dvd from a video store and watched it with her boyfriend today (actually yesterday but shut up), so I just sat down to watch it after work and
It
Was
...
a little disappointing at first, don't get me wrong. there were a lot of plot contrivances and I LOATHE fridge stuffing. I literally made a joke, "if she dies I'm gonna be mad" and then BOOM she fucking died and I was so pissed off I almost just turned it off. but I decided fuck it might as well watch the whole thing. it was a huge step forward from a technical perspective and all of the cinematography was on point and I could tell david pulled his a-game and did so much better than tim did (sorry tim, I love mass effect 2 and scott pilgrim if it's any consolation) and felt so much more fluid of an action movie considering the man did john fucking wick. of course ryan was fantastic too, as he always is. everyone was great: rena, tj, karan, leslie, BRI AND KUTSUNA-SAN, zazie, and stef's voice plus the cgi crew. also I always love terry crews, bill skarsgard, matt damon, alan tudyk, and the two seconds that brad pitt was on screen, even if their appearances were for comedic effect. I wasn't really sold on julian though but he's a newcomer on the scene and he did pretty well for all intents and purposes. I could tell which scenes were filmed first thought but this isn't a scathing attack on a child's acting abilities. I'm just angry that the actual plot for getting to the end was so weak, that they're aware and had ryan lampshade the fuck out of it, and the last half hour was such a trip.
okay so first of all how in the FUCK did sergei figure out who deadpool's secret identity was, track down wade wilson's apartment, get a hit crew together, and make his way downtown in the amount of time it took dopinder to drive wade home, wade and vanessa to bang, and them to start watching a movie? oh yeah sure there's nothing saying that their talk about his daddy issues was the same day let alone the same hour as the previous scene except for the simple fact that there was no fucking indication that any time had passed. either way, someone fucked up, and it was for the sole purpose of fridging ness to cause wade manpain. although frankly the only thing I hate worse than killing off the previous waifu for the next is breaking them up for zero reason whatsoever from out of nowhere (or doing both: if you do both then you're no better than paul blart mall cop 2 and that movie is a steaming blight on humanity that's only saved by perfectly syncing to pink floyd's dark side of the moon album). and to be fair THEY ACTUALLY USED THAT AS A PLOT ELEMENT AND MADE ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL AND HAUNTING SCENES I HAVE EVER SEEN IN A MOVIE. and also a hilarious one. so that sucked at first but then redeemed itself later. I'm still a little salty that he killed francis for nothing. MORE ON KILLING LATER.
(actually upon reflection maybe wade didn't hide his secret identity at all so it's perfectly reasonable that sergei just went after him but that would awaken a whole swathe of problems like why the fuck are wade and ness livin in the middle of the city full of crime and shit??? and more on that later)
dopinder killing his rival in love. come on now, that's just unrealistic. dopinder is too fucking incompetent to successfully murder anyone who isn't a pedophile. MORE ON THAT LATER.
the suicide. I can understand going out with a bang but are we supposed to believe that wade bought all those barrels, wheeled them in, and arranged them all and never once thought "well gee maybe I'm overreacting a little bit"? okay, he was depressed and not thinking clearly, but he was constantly getting drunk, doing coke, and god knows what else. he somehow didn't have the clarity to not kill himself but had just enough to arrange such an extravagant death? yeah yeah I get it, rule of funny and cool, and I can forgive it because it's deadpool, but god damn it that's really lazy (AND GODDAMN IT THEY EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE IT TOO. ITS LIKE THE ROYAL RAT AUTHORITY BONFIRE HERE). it's also indicative that weasel and colossus and dopinder are just bad or at least distant friends. and at least althea has an excuse being that she can't see. but as for the other two? bruh he is suicidal and unstable as hell. the last thing he needs is SPACE. but well maybe he hid it well, like kurt cobain, robin williams, chris cornell, chester bennington, okay writing this sentence maybe that actually does make sense. fuck.
negasonic thought that wade "flamboyant pansexual" wilson was lesbophobic? what? I understand it was for a joke but like come on now. surely she'd know that wade legitimately wanted to fuck colossus but wouldn't because he loved vanessa. lesbian gaydar works well, okay? then again the writers are not lesbians so I mean they can't be faulted for not grasping the raw power lesbians exude. (and if there's canonical evidence negasonic is actually bi, the same rule applies because wlw solidarity and stuff). and that's more than made up with the interactions between wade and yukio. whom I love and would die for. she's delightful and I hope she gets plenty of screentime in DP3. (also lmao 'pinkie pie from my little pony'. the real pink pony would be proud)
now, I get that this is purely because of license issues and budget constraints but THE WHOLE CONCEPT OF THE X MEN COEXISTING WITH THE PEDOPHILE HOME AND THE ICE BOX IN THE SAME UNIVERSE IS SO FUCKING ASININE. even if I made concessions for everyone being dead despite the timeline being fucked up the ass without lube, and admitting to never having watched literally any x men movie past X3 and yes that means I've not seen origins, japan arc [wait shit yukio's in that WTF SONY], first class, days of future past, apocalypse, or logan so I'm not an expert on the field but like. FUCK. I know there's jurisdiction, things change, erik is away and charles is dead (I think) and logan is dead (I know), and there's six whole movies I'm lost on, but jesus christ, none of that segment had any work done to make sure it was logical. so here we're supposed to believe that colossus and negasonic took wade as a trainee in the X Jet to Allegorical Racist/Homophobic And Literal Pedophile Central to... do what, exactly? What was the fucking plan? Because it sure as fuck looks like the plan was to distract him enough to force the Devil May Cry (sorry but I see DMC I either think of the rap duo or the game series) to haul him off to fucking prison to the fucking nth power. Colossus who seems to be the head honcho and sole decision maker of the X Men just stood by and watched until bullets started flying. Was he recruiting? Was he the damage control? Was he the cheap plot moving device whose sole reason for showing up at Essex was to punch Wade out before he killed headmaster touchykids allowing for the hamfisted climax? Clearly if we were to derive any conclusion from this circlejerk we have to assume that not only Colossus but the entirety of the XMansion just don't give a fuck anymore, or that it isn't important to make sense because hey this is a Deadpool movie so fuck you for using logic. Excuse the shit out of me for being confused as to what the fuck actually happened, because if Colossus is willing to let Wade get thrown into prison for killing a pedophile but he's not gonna TAKE ACTUAL LEGAL ACTION AGAINST ESSEX HOUSE FOR TORTURING MUTANT CHILDREN FOR DECADES (Domino admitted to it being the same when she was a kid), either it's just a Public Relations nightmare to not let the Run-DMC haul him off, Essex is a legal powerhouse on the same level as the Westboro Baptist Cult with lawyers up the ass, or they changed a lot of shit from the trailers and cobbled together what they could from what remained (which is the most likely suspect because Bedlam and Shatterstar had scenes in the trailer where they were not dead and were actually fighting with Wade and Domino). Regardless, the scene however dumb and nonsensical was necessary I guess, and established Russell/Firefist as a character. I'm still gonna be pissed about that in particular but HOLY SHIT is that stupid. But that's not all that's stupid. More on that later.
Cable's motivations are grief. His hypocrisy is understandable. Killing kids is wrong so I'm gonna kill a kid so he doesn't kill other kids. Why doesn't Russel deserve life? Because he's a mutant? Wow, Thanos is racist AND mutant-phobic! In all seriousness though, all Cable had to do was nothing to prevent his family's death. If he had stayed in the future, nobody would have broken Russel out so there would be no way in hell he'd have killed the headmaster let alone everyone else he did. Although according to the laws of time travel, the timeline Cable came from was the timeline that he went back in time and did everything exactly the way it happened up until Wade took that bullet for Russel. Because that's the moment the teddy bear lost its bloodstain. Because literally not a goddamn thing changed the course of history up until that exact moment, THAT IS THE EXACT FUCKING MOMENT IT BUTTERFLY EFFECTED ITS WAY TO HELL AND BACK. Cable's dead family is a direct result of him going back in time to kill Russel to save them and failing miserably. And god I love time travel paradoxes UGH I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH. We have to assume Cable failed and that's why he succeeded. THATS SO FUCKING STUPID.
And you know what else is stupid? Wade made it back to New York after breaking out of DMC. How is that stupid? Well, first of all, the facility wasn't looking for THEIR MOST DANGEROUS INMATE. Black Tom said it himself, Wade is the toughest cunt in there. Although Juggernaut is way more powerful but whatever. More on that later. Anyway, the facility got the riot back on lockdown despite Cable decimating most of the staff, and got everyone in line enough to get them to start convoying to the more secure location. Did they see that Wade was missing and decide "hey, fuck it, what can the literally most unkillable man in the world with the most enormous boner for revenge in the universe POSSIBLY do to us who forced him to slowly die of cancer all over again in a hell prison???" Fucking stupid. Even dumber is the actual X Men themselves not giving a shit that there was an attack on the ice box which is apparently Mike Pence's wet dream, not lifting a finger to so much as offer assistance TO ENSURE THE SAFETY AND REHABILITATION OF ALL OF THE MUTANT INMATES, or even so much as being like "hey guys is Wade doing okay dying from cancer in your Guantanamo Bay?". And dumber still than that is Colossus deciding that Wade deserves to slowly die of cancer since he killed a pedophile who abused a kid so bad he used his powers for destruction and murder and evil and eventually became one of the most deadly sociopathic murderers in the fucked up future world, rationalizing it because Wade broke the rules of being an X-man by killing, even though Wade didn't wanna be an X-man in the first place. Colossus dragged Wade from his suicide directly to the X manor to get his body healed, forced him along to a mission he didn't wanna be a part of, and then punished him for killing a pedophile by forcing him to die slowly from the cancer while getting the shit kicked out of him by convicts. AND THEN WADE APOLOGIZED TO COLOSSUS? ARE YOU FUCKING FOR REAL HERE? WADE WAS SUICIDAL AND COLOSSUS FORCED HIM INTO PRISON. Bad friend, 0/10.
Seriously, a queer military vet with ptsd and a fucked up past replete with daddy issues who developed cancer and was then tortured by a shadow organization went on a revenge spree followed by a murder spree as a mercenary, and expressed that he's a violent psychopath who won't hesitate to murder sex traffickers or pedophiles or people who threaten his girl, and watched said girl (the only good thing in his fucked up life) die right in his arms immediately after his life was about to go in a good direction and start a family and probably give up all of the murder business and just be the best dad in the world and give a good life to someone to make up for the one he never got himself, did a cocaine bender, and literally committed suicide. But his godforsaken mutation wouldn't let him die, so he couldn't even see his Vanessa again. He clearly has severe clinical depression and needed a FUCKING MENTAL HOSPITAL STAY, not being shoved into a planless feeble attempt to get him to join the Xmen (using him for an extra hand for missions), and he was allowed to BRING THE GUNS, and he was confronted with a physically and sexually abused CHILD with mutant powers he probably didn't ask for that ruined his life and got him sent to Essex, a BIG KNOWN HOTSPOT FOR PEDOPHILES, and he has a big problem with sex criminals (oh yeah and the girl he loved so much he killed himself when she died? sex worker with a life full of being sexually assaulted herself. let alone the fact that wade has been sexually assaulted as well). You take a queer, mentally ill, suffering man and push him past his breaking point, and let him bring guns to a pedophile nest, HE IS GOING TO KILL THE PEDOPHILES. Colossus is a fucking cunt in this situation in every single conceivable fashion. He dragged Wade out of the frying pan, and out of the fire, and into the fucking woodchipper, before stepping on him. The situation is so far behind fucked up that I don't even think the crew fully grasp the full gravity of the situation described. But I digress.
Things weren't all bad from this point on.
The recruitment was funny and full of people. Dopinder's reaction at Peter was amazing and I love him. Domino was fucking phenomenal and I loved her. I knew that everyone else was dead from the moment I saw them, though, but I still loved them anyway. Brad. fucking. Pitt. Great action scene all around. Josh Brolin is just the baddest of asses. Murphy's law is supreme.
Juggernaut's reveal was well done. Still dumb but not quite "AHM THE JUGGANAUT BITCH" dumb. Cool dumb. And then he Megatron'd Wade which was even cooler. I thought Russell joining him was a little dumb but it was quite a callback. Although it begs the question: Wade knew it was foreshadowing something and he knew that Juggernaut existed but he just isn't omniscient and the inconsistency is driving me fucking bonkers. This isnt the Deadpool of the comics. This is the movie Deadpool. And while I do like it I can't say it's without flaws. That's ok but still annoying as fuck. And then more flaws.
It's stupid that Colossus would react the way he did when he learned Wade was back. Well if Colossus was moping about because an entire convoy of mutants literally fucking died except for Juggernaut (PROFESSOR X'S BROTHER IN THIS CHRONOLOGY) and Russell, that's even dumber. If he learned Wade was back at that moment then he's not even paying attention to anything considering Deadpool was out and about. Negasonic and Yukio didn't look too surprised to see him. Lazy writing, lampshades, whatever, blah blah who even fucking cares.
The heroes show up just in time. Shocking. But of course if they didn't it'd be a boring movie.
The action scene was FANTASTIC. It balanced four different fight scenes all at once. Why Jug didn't rip Cable in half like he did Wade I won't ask, maybe because he's half robot I guess idk. Still, Wade/Cable, Domino, and Colossus kicked ass, and Russell's advance to the headmaster was beastly. Julian's acting wasn't the best and neither was Eddie's but I got what they went for and HOLY SHIT THE SCENE IS SO CHILLING, especially for queer youth. Bryan Singer could only dream of that level of subtle analogues.
I thought it was dumb that Cable was all like "if Russell kills then he'll be an evil monster since killing is wrong" even though literally every one of the people there have killed several people that fucking day. Cable killed many, Wade killed many, Domino killed many. Granted they killed mostly pedophiles but they also killed a lot of DMC people & innocent civilians (accidentally). But again he was grieving so whatever.
Negasonic and Yukio had their moment too, I just wish there was more. But that's what the threequel is for. WE WANT MORE LESBIANS!
Wade has balls, I'll give him that. Where he kept that power nullifier I'll never know. [also... fuck that noise. they just have a collar that turns off mutant powers? ORORO WILL HAVE A FUCKIN ANEURYSM. and marie will have an orgasm. for once in her life. hahaha references]. But it was still a great scene. Russell is actually a really good character, if he is a bit Woobie, Destroyer Of Worlds. But I like that trope. Simon from Cry of Fear is one of my favorite characters in that respect; sympathetic even to the very end if he kills Purnell and Sophie (god that monologue is so haunting... "have fun cleaning my brains off the wall. FUCK YOU."). He's basically just a mini Wade but a mutant first. And it allowed Wade to have a defining character moment.
And what a moment. There's a quote that was said about The Princess Bride that I feel works here. It was about the Inigo fight with Rugen. "A comedy is only as strong as the moment when it stops being funny." And the moment when Inigo stabs Rugen, and says "I want my father back, you son of a bitch." is just permanently etched in my mind because the entire movie you watch with a smile up until right at that moment. And when Wade finally bites it, you think "oh, he'll just wake up again and make another joke" but he doesn't. He doesn't move again. He shows up on death's door. And you hear the acoustic version of Take On Me. And he walks through the fog door, and he's got his skin back. He did it, he's finally reunited with Vanessa. And Cable looks away, and you start to piece together where they're going with it, and he goes back, and you wonder wtf is this, and it returns to the present day and Wade digs in the wound AND PULLS OUT THE SKEE BALL TOKEN HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS OH MY GOD THATS THE COOLEST SHIT IVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE JESUS CHRIST ON A STICK.
THE ENTIRE ENDING SCENE IS SO ICONIC.
And the whipped cream on top of the sundae is the headmaster getting creamed in the middle of his tirade. And then Dopinder's reaction is the cherry.
After that it kinda does the sappy ending which is fine for what it is. And then it brings in all the fourth wall breaking time travel shenanigans, drenching it in sap and Ryan Reynolds' brains.
The music is just OH MY GOD amazing. Yeah there's the pina colada song and skrillex and celine dion and ac/dc and enya and pat benatar and peter gabriel and cher and steve miller and for some reason diplo/french montana/lil pump but THOSE ARE ALL ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD OKAY???
The movie is chock full of amazing lines.
The fights are all really fluid and visceral.
The cinematography is always on point.
The plot formula is shaken up a little bit.
Several pedophiles die incredibly violently.
ITS A REALLY GREAT MOVIE, FOR REAL.
I'd literally say it's better than the first one.
All of the plot contrivances in the first half are negligible and are barely even problems unless you overanalyze them too much. Like I do.
And I also watched all of the extras... Celine Dion is such a good sport, really, and honestly kind of a dork and super endearing and I love her honestly and think she caught too much flak for being a) a woman b) popular c) in the worst 'romance' movie ever made tifuckintanic god I hate that movie so much despite loving kate winslett, leonardo dicaprio, and james cameron as much as I really loathe to admit it. And Ashes is a really good song.
And I never thought I'd say this but... Lil Pump has really nice flow. I really kinda hope he isn't the dead one. I despise French Montana but I love Sia and by extension Diplo (because LSD), and the song they did for the movie was... bad. But I'll probably be checking out Lil Pump soon.
And anyway the winter solstice mtv unplugged acoustic version of take on me? Beautiful.
I enjoyed this movie a lot, despite the nitpicks.
Thank you Canada. 🇨🇦
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davidchill · 7 years
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The Lifetime Commitment
As a dog lover of 40 years, and having a dog in my life for a total of almost 30 years, it’s safe to say that I know a bit about dogs. [That’s a combined total of 30 years, covering three dogs, not one exceptionally old dog who’s defying nature.] Max (Alsatian), Ben (Labrador X), and finally, Luna (Staffordshire Bull Terrier X Akita). If we’re comparing these dog’s temperaments to beverages then Max was Evian mineral water, Ben was Dr. Pepper, and Luna is Red Bull Extreme.
Therefore, I hope that you can take what I’m saying onboard, and not dismiss it as pure hokum.
If you’re thinking about bringing a dog into your life this Christmas, then good for you. I personally don’t believe that any home should be dog free at Christmas. Unless you have an acute allergy to the creatures, and in that case you should probably give them a wide berth. Perhaps think about a cat, gerbil, rat, guinea pig. There’s a plethora of furries out there who are seeking a loving home.
I’d urge you to visit your local rescue shelter to discuss your options, and they’d be able to advise you, better than I could, on what’s best for you and the animal in question. Just don’t expect to view the dogs if you’re not serious about adopting. Many shelters now prohibit members of the public (who have no real intention to adopt) from “just looking” at dogs. Not only does a constant stream of visitors unsettle the dogs, it’s a rescue shelter, not a zoo.
If you want my advice, I would exercise caution before you consider a dog, as exercise is something you’ll be doing a lot of, once this pooch comes into your life.
Come the new year, who’ll be walking the dog? How many times a day? Is the garden an ample size if you can’t manage long walks? Can you afford food, flea treatment, worming tablets, insurance, treats and toys? Will you have enough money for kennels or day care should the need arise?
I’m sure some people get a dog with the best of intentions, like an exercise bike, but after a few weeks the novelty wears off and that “good intention” becomes an expensive clothes horse, or worse, a neglected animal.
I say this because, when I adopted my dog (in June 2014), I didn’t think it through. Not nearly enough. Both the time I’ve had to commit and the money I’ve had to spend have really taken their toll, and now, over three years later, she’s still with me, but I’ve paid a very high price.
If you’re eating your lunch then you may wish to move your plate to one side for a second.
As I write, there’s multiple patches of this brown substance on the rug, carpet, duvet, and sofa. Luna has an abscess on her anal gland that has burst, and is now discharging fluid. She has a seven day course of antibiotic and anti-inflammatory tablets that should hopefully clear this up, but failing that she’ll need minor surgery. The initial vet visit cost £75, but thankfully I have insurance, as I can’t imagine what potential surgery could cost me.
If you’re thinking “Too much information!”, or you’ve had to spit out your lunch (I did warn you), then perhaps dog parenthood isn’t for you. It’s not for the faint hearted, because you need to be prepared for all the crap that comes with it. Often literally. I’d occasionally have to get up at 3am and clean up a mess that my elderly dog, Ben, left on the landing, as he started to lose control of some bodily functions.
My experience is an extreme example, and my anxiety hasn’t helped, but in three years I’ve lost my job, my home, my mind, and probably damaged several friendships. Oh, and most recently I’ve lost my support network, by relocating 50 miles away from my closest friends and family (as a result of losing my home).
No, the dog wasn’t the catalyst, despite what anyone might believe… but having her did make my life a whole lot harder. Sure, I could have given her up after six months, just like her first family, but then what? She goes to her third, fourth, fifth home? You might say “That’s not your problem!”, but this world is a mess because too many people go around saying “It’s not my problem” instead of giving 100% to something they give 50% and then hope someone else comes along to pick up the baton.
Just because a dog doesn’t talk, or sit in their bedroom, pulling duck faces for their Instagram selfies, they should still be treated like children. Some people have said to me; “Try having children!”, but they have absolutely no idea of the demands that an anxious, extreme energy dog brings into one’s life. Especially when you’re trying to raise that pooch alone.
Sadly, people can be extremely self-centred when it comes to spending money. I’ve had people recoil and say “Oh, I couldn’t afford day care for my dog!”, or “Blimey, £15 for a dog training class!? We couldn’t afford that!” Then there’s the people who won’t take their dog to the vet because it might set them back £70, that they could spend on several posh bottles of vino.
On at least two occasions I’ve almost laughed out loud, because I know full well that if they got their priorities in order then they could easily afford both. I couldn’t afford foreign holidays, fancy restaurants, or trips to the cinema… but each to their own. The point is that when we have a dog, we have to make some sacrifices, because life is often about give and take, and compromise.
Do I have days when I think to myself; “Why did I get a dog?” Yes. It’s a question that often pops up, especially when I’m alone and feeling reflective… which is practically every day. I no longer have freedom or flexibility, and a perfect example of that is being invited to a family meal in Essex at the weekend. “Pre-dog” me could have gone at the drop of a hat, but now I have to think about who’s going to have Luna, and I certainly can’t leave her home alone while she’s poorly. 
I’m sometimes envious of friends with these really low-maintenance dogs that they can just leave with friends or family for a few days without any trouble at all. Luna’s size, strength, and boundless energy have made such scenarios impossible. I’ve grown accustomed to her “quirks” but nobody can simply take her for a walk, without perusing a training manual. 
In the absence of my “support network” I can take Luna to the nearby day care centre if I have a particularly pressing deadline, and I occasionally employ the services of a dog walker. Both have helped a lot, but it’s all extra money that adds up, and I need to use such services sparingly or I’ll be in danger of financial struggle again. That simply can’t happen, but I’ll still put Luna before holidays, eating out and trips to the cinema (on my own).
Did I want to remember Luna as the only life I ever gave up on, or the biggest challenge of my life that I had to see through until completion, or maybe the friend and companion who had a lot of issues, but I never gave up on her and she became my world?
Dogs are called “man’s best friend” for a very good reason. They’re not mercurial, standoffish or inconsistent like some human beings, and this is why they make such good friends and companions. I believe they’re a gift to humanity in their own right, and therefore they shouldn’t be given as gifts or “purchased” willy nilly.
One day, Luna won’t be such hard work (I tell myself that everyday because it keeps me going) and that’s when I’ll really start to “enjoy” life with her, knowing that all the time and commitment I’ve devoted to her paid off in the end.
Don’t let my experiences put you off, as, like I said, Luna is an extreme example. There’s plenty of much easier pooches out there, and if you want to dip your toes in the water before taking on the commitment of a dog then please consider fostering. The shelter will provide food (and veterinary treatment) so all you need to throw into the mix is TLC (and exercise).
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salutethepig · 6 years
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My Dad's pigs
Well, strictly, there weren’t his.
OK, I’d better give you some more background hadn’t I? There’s already some words on my Mum in this blog from earlier, so it seems only right that he also gets a fair crack of the narrative whip in my ongoing pig tales. And I’m actually more than a little surprised that I’ve not got around to talking that much about them — except in passing — until now, some years after the blog was started. So, sorry to you both! I love you; it wasn’t a deliberate slight 🙂
But first, here’s a shot of the (in-)Famous Five. Not sure where this was taken but I’m the one on the right in the back row. By the way, you will note that my pristine discriminate suss vis a vis clothes, hair-cuts and general hard-core posing, has always been with me…
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Dad had an interesting, varied life. He’d been a merchant sailor on the Russian Convoys in WWII. He’d graduated from the Royal College of Music as a pianist and, initially at least, taught piano, but after he’d met my Mum (met up again that is; they’d split up and gone their separate ways, until Mum went down to Devon and, so her version goes, “dragged him back to Oxford and away from that other woman”), five children came along in rapid succession and it was soon apparent that the measly pay offered a music teacher wasn’t enough to support us all. Taking a cue from his own Dad, he re-trained as an accountant and started working for firms up & down the country. We moved. A lot. By the first 10 years of my life, I think we’d had 4 or 5 different places we called home.
And a couple of early shots of them attending someone elses’ wedding and, in the second, their own.
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[I’ve even recently attempted to map some of the houses — it’s available here as The Bulow Clan homes for any of you stalkers out there — and, using Street-view, took a look at how they’re doing now. It’s quite surprising quite how much hasn’t changed from my memories of them, memories in some cases, from over 40 years ago]
Whilst it meant that we were forever making & then saying good-bye to short-lived friendships (at first those children next door, or just along the road, then later, those at primary school), it also resulted in us becoming a superbly well-tuned and tight-knit fighting unit, skilled at packing up one day and then efficiently moving these 7 people, their dog and their furniture to a new location, the very next day. I think I said before that my Mum could easily have organised the Normandy landings — her grasp of logistics was that good. We were the civvie equivalent of the Royal Engineers, moving men, vehicles & supplies through a devastated wasteland.
Here’s a later retirement shot — from the back garden in their nice, newly built, modern house. Finally, my Mum got to have a house that she didn’t have to look after all the time. Didn’t stop her still doing so, mind you…
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And then, just like that, Dad gave up the life of an accountant and became a pig farmer. Well, in my memory, it was like that. In all likelihood, it took probably a few weeks or months — at least — to convince my Mum that this wasn’t the most insane idea he’d ever had. Dad was bright (and funny and kind), but sometimes you wouldn’t know it. He also could (and did) drink. And that was a problem at times. I recall being driven by him (in retrospect, a very pissed him) at high-speed around Bournemouth, where we were visiting his parents and after he’d had a row with Mum. He was often pretty useless with money; rather surprising for an accountant and I recall Mum keeping separate little pots for each bill and, once or twice we kids and Mum had to hide silently under the bed and pretend that we weren’t in, when the milkman (or similar dunned debtor) came a’ knockin’.
But become a pig farmer he did. There were, I’m sure, some sharply hissed, unkind words from behind the closed bedroom door or from the front-room, as they discussed it, but again, in my memory, we just effortlessly and calmly segued into our new lives on farms. Dad had always loved pigs, working with them in Devon, so, whilst an unexpected change of tack — at least to us — maybe not a total bombshell for my Mum. Who knows now? But there we were. Living in farm cottages as Dad never owned his own farm; he was always a tenant farmer. But one big advantage of this was that the job came complete with a large house. I’m sure the wages were pretty crap but at least they didn’t have to find rent money and were able to have separate bed-rooms for (most) of us!
Here’s the place at Kingsdown, in Kent. We moved here when I was just 11, from the previous farm in Essex. This was the last one he worked at and it specialised in careful, highly skilled breeding programmes. Now. this pristine, white house is divided into two properties but when we were there, it was all ours. Complete with nests of rats under the garden shed. An endless source of fun for us and the family and farm dogs. Corn fields behind. Bluebell woods on the horizon. And an old Royal Marine training ground  further along the farm road — dangerous as all hell, full of collapsing tunnels, hidden drops and unstable sandy banks, so therefore irresistible to us.
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And here, the farm buildings that housed the pigs, now looking almost deserted (and a likely asbestos health & safety nightmare), but these were where Dad worked, where we all ‘helped’ him and, from the concrete jetties, where the animals were loaded and off-loaded. The grain store and chute, at the back, was another treasure trove of rats for hunting. Oh, and it also had a large oil-drum sized tub of black molasses given to the pigs to supplement their diet. Scooping a fistful out when no one was looking, was a treat for all of us kids.
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And so, as I said therefore, not his pigs. But as far as the porkers and we were concerned, they may as well have been. He loved them. He cared for them. He bedded them down when they were ill, supervised their births, farrowing, feeding, growth and deaths.  As a breeding experimental site, we had quite tight access controls (for that time); and the occasional foot & mouth outbreaks nearby meant we often went into lock-down and once — luckily only the once — we had to watch as all the animals there had to be killed and burnt. An horrific sight, sounds and a smell that lingered in the air and clothes and even the hedgerows for days afterward. A lot of us cried that day. Including my Dad.
An earlier farm was also the cause of more than one or two nightmares for me. The pig manure was swept into huge underground pits (using what were, in effect, giant rubberised Squeegee mops) from where it was rather (to me) ingeniously pumped out, through a network of pipes either onto the nearby fields or into tankers for disposal elsewhere. Leaning over the manhole covers, seeing the churning, stinking dark, seething mass below, made me wake screaming in the night as I ‘watched’ Dad slip into it and get sucked away.
Gentle reader? Of course, it never happened. For which I for one am profoundly grateful. He went on to live for another 30 years or so.
But “what about the pigs”, I hear you cry? “Tell us more about them”?
Despite (or rather because of) the intensive breeding attempts, these weren’t anything special — certainly not rare breed types, just pink & large — except in their ability to grow quickly to weight, to be low in fat, to produce large litters. You know, the same as everyone else, the same as almost the entire rest of the world was looking for. We (Dad and his fellow pig-herds) were ‘guilty’ of the crimes I’ve previously excoriated the English farmer for. I suppose we could claim that this was a different time and that we “knew no better”, and in all honesty, I think that’s pretty much the case. I don’t recall anyone then extolling the benefits of the old style pigs — hardier, tastier, able to live outside — whilst calling for them to be retained. The dash for profit was headlong and Dad’s employers weren’t immune to that siren call. So these ones weren’t kept outside; they lived in inside sties. The floors were concrete (although they had huge quantities of fresh straw changed twice daily to move around on, root round in, dig for their food in). Food was generally high-energy pellets. They got given some fruit on occasions. But precisely because this was a breeding farm and the owner was paranoid about infections or diseases from outside, pigs weren’t allowed the scraps and swill from school canteens that we saw used on the earlier farms.
Ideal? No. Unfeeling? Yes, pretty much I guess. The sows had large-ish farrowing crates even then, so the natural bonding that should occur was less likely to happen. We docked tails. We de-tusked the boars. They didn’t get to run around outside, to root, to dig, to play in the way that this most sociable of animals needs to. And whilst I never saw anyone treating them cruelly or unkindly, still, this was a processing operation. I’m not happy looking back at the lives these animals led because of us.  I’m unsure how to end this piece. For the time and place, they had a better life than some and Dad was uniformly caring of them. I suppose that’s the best I can say. Somehow though, it doesn’t seem a fitting epitaph for all the work and care and effort that he put into his animals. We never really spoke about this or how welfare for animals had changed when we’d both got older. And I regret that. And I miss him. Of course. But I think he’d have approved of my coming back to write about these lovely creatures. Thanks Bernie. For everything.
Oh, and one last thing? As far as I know, we’re not related to this branch of the extended Bulow Clan. We visited there whilst living in Florida. A beautiful place, calm, green, verdant. And yet. And yet. The stench of slavery — like burning pork — doesn’t wash away, even in the torrential Florida rains…
In 1821, Major Charles Wilhelm Bulow acquired 4,675 acres of wilderness bordering a tidal creek that would later bear his name. Using slave labor, he cleared 2,200 acres and planted sugar cane, cotton, rice and indigo. Major Bulow died in 1823, leaving the newly established plantation to his seventeen year old son, John Joachim Bulow.
After completing his education in Paris, John Bulow returned to the Territory of Florida to manage the plantation. Young Bulow proved to be very capable. John James Audubon, the famous naturalist, was a guest at the plantation during Christmas week 1831. In a letter to a patron, Audubon wrote:
“Mr. J.J. Bulow, a rich planter, at whose home myself and party have been for a whole week under the most hospitable and welcome treatment is now erecting some extensive buildings for a sugar house.” Bulowville, Florida December 31, 1831.
Bulow’s sugar mill, constructed of local “coquina” rock, was the largest mill in East Florida. At the boat slips, flatboats were loaded with barrels of raw sugar and molasses and floated down Bulow Creek to be shipped north. This frontier industry came to an abrupt end at the outbreak of the Second Seminole War. In January 1836, a band of raiding Seminole Indians, resisting removal to the West, looted and burned the plantation. It would never recover. Bulow returned to Paris where he died the same year.
Today, the coquina walls and chimneys of the sugar mill remain standing as a monument to the rise and fall of the sugar plantations of East Florida.
  My Dad’s pigs was originally published on Salute The Pig
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Sinister is not a MUTANT. He is a MUTATE. A mutate is an individual who was mutated or altered by scientific or cosmic means into a superhuman. This means that he himself does not have the X-gene and would never have manifested any sort of power had Apocalypse not altered his body with Celestial technology.
         As mentioned in another post, he was given what would allow him to survive the ages. This included slowed aging and super-strength and endurance. During his time living in New York during the 1900s, Sinister would learn how to ADAPT the mutations of other’s in to his own body-- giving himself his cellular manipulation, energy projection (thanks Scott!) and true immortality.
As a mutate, he feels no empathy to any mutant cause. He’s an outsider who sees himself as the controller of a grand experiment in evolution in which the mutants are his lab-rats. Essex is an extra kind of despicable in that he NOT ONLY advocates mutant eugenics but also wants to use the outcome of this experiment for his own ends. He can spout ‘for the greater good of mankind’s evolution’ when at the end of the day HE really just wants to be the apex species.
That said, he views humans as infinity inferior to himself and mutant-kind. Their use lies in what beneficial traits they might show AND their genetic material. Seed and eggs. Humans who carry  the X gene are also of interest to him due to the possibility of their spawn being mutants. That’s it. They’re completely irrelevant to him or his agenda.
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autolovecraft · 7 years
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The Goat with a Thousand Young … They found Gilman on the floor.
The old woman always appeared out of thin air near the corner where the downward slant met the inward-slanting wall. At last he woke in his bed in the crazily angled garret of the eldritch old house. Then he gave a start. This fusion of dream and reality was too much to bear.
The urge to walk was gradually changing to an urge to leap mystically into space, and by noon he had conquered the impulse to stare at vacancy. He was half lying on a high, fantastically balustraded terrace above a boundless jungle of outlandish, incredible peaks, balanced planes, domes, minarets, horizontal disks poised on pinnacles, and numberless forms of still greater wildness—some of stone and some of metal—which glittered gorgeously in the mixed, almost blistering glare from a polychromatic sky. As he listened he thought a rhythmic confusion of faint musical pipings covering a wide tonal range welled up from the ground floor. As for a plan of action—Gilman had better move down to Elwood's room and avoid sleeping alone. They were telling each other how badly they dreaded the coming of Walpurgis Night, now only a few days off; and were exchanging pitying comments about the poor, doomed young gentleman. How could he be sure he would not land on that green-litten hillside of a far planet, on the tessellated terrace above the city of tentacled monsters somewhere beyond the galaxy or in the spiral black vortices of that ultimate void of Chaos where reigns the mindless daemon-sultan Azathoth?
Gilman felt that they must be a result, jointly, of his studies in mathematics and in folklore. Ahead raced the small, furry, sharp-toothed thing which haunted the moldering structure and the town and nuzzled people curiously in the black hours before dawn, he resolved to reply in kind, and his own hands reached out for the creature's throat. In another column it was stated that no trace of the missing child Ladislas Wolejko had been found vacant, though with all his clothing in place. How could he be sure he would not land on that green-litten hillside of a far planet, on the tessellated terrace above the city of tentacled monsters somewhere beyond the galaxy or in the spiral black vortices of that ultimate void of Chaos where reigns the mindless daemon-sultan Azathoth? Dombrowski left it the pall of its final desolation began to descend, for people shunned it both on account of its old reputation and because of the new foetid odor. Also, Dombrowski must attend to the poisoning of those rats in the walls. She could not tell the police, for they never believed such things.
This was April thirtieth, and with the dusk would come the hellish Sabbat-time it always mounted and reached through to the worlds to certain dreaded periods. For the moment his recollections were hopelessly hazy, but he recognized them none the less formed an additional count against the place.
It was also possible that the inhabitants of a given dimensional realm could survive entry to many unknown and incomprehensible realms of additional or indefinitely multiplied dimensions—be they within or outside the given space-time continua—though of course there must be vast numbers of mutually uninhabitable even though mathematically juxtaposed bodies or zones of space. He argued that the fever alone was responsible for his nightly fantasies, and that when the touch abated he would be free from the monstrous visions. On the morning of the twenty-ninth Gilman awakened into a maelstrom of horror. He seemed to know what was coming—the monstrous burst of Walpurgis-rhythm would be vibrating, and at last he would have to be done about those rats. He had better, he thought, sprinkle flour within the room as well as walked around the house in his sleep was plain, and it was by no means vacant, being crowded with indescribably angled masses of alien-hued substance, some of which appeared to be organic while others seemed inorganic. Braced up by Elwood's companionship, Gilman attended classes that day. She had told Judge Hathorne of lines and curves were frequently used at certain midnight meetings in the dark. Everybody shrieked when a large rat-like form suddenly jumped out from beneath the ensanguined bedclothes and scuttled across the floor to a fresh, open hole close by. Utter bewilderment and the fear of madness racked Gilman as he staggered to the door and saw that Brown Jenkin had not been sleep-walking was needed.
It had looked very queer to her, but of course the young gentleman had better be sure to wear the crucifix Joe Mazurewicz had given him. That the influence of the old house and up the rickety stairs. He was writhing under the bedclothes, and a moment later he had tightened it enough to cut off her breath.
Elwood.
Each of these knobs was the hub of a system of five long, flat, triangularly tapering arms arranged around it like the arms of a starfish—nearly horizontal, but curving slightly away from the central barrel. After about an hour he got himself under better control, and saw that there were no muddy prints outside. To some, though, had Gilman been there; and when told of the matter he wondered where he could have been wandering, barefoot and with only his night clothes on. At the same moment the disgusting form of Brown Jenkin in the gulf below he thought he heard rats in the wormy partitions, and the tiles were cut in bizarre-angled shapes which struck him as less asymmetrical than based on some unearthly symmetry whose laws he could not comprehend.
Still others, including Joe himself, have theories too wild and fantastic for sober credence. Nor was any spot in that city more steeped in macabre memory than the gable room which harbored him—for it could not stand up alone—was the exotic spiky figure which in his monstrous dream he had heard a terrific clattering overhead in the dark fighting to keep awake when a faint lambent glow would seem to shimmer around the centuried room, showing in a violet mist the convergence of angled planes which had seized his brain so insidiously. She was intoning some croaking ritual in a language which Gilman could not be very clear about his reasons for this last assumption, but his haziness here was more than the honest physician could say. No amount of persuasion, however, that it was like an ancient crone whom he had twice actually encountered in the dark.
What made the students shake their heads was his sober theory that a man might—given mathematical knowledge admittedly beyond all likelihood of human acquirement—step deliberately from the earth to any other celestial body which might lie at one of an infinity of specific points in the cosmic pattern. In the evening they drowsily discussed the mathematical studies which had so completely and perhaps harmfully engrossed Gilman, and speculated about the linkage with ancient magic and folklore which seemed so darkly probable. He would speak to the landlord about them. There was much in the Essex County records about Keziah Mason's trial, and what had been near her rattling the tin can in a rubbish-heap at the mouth of the gangway just after midnight. Lying on its side—for it could not stand up alone—was the exotic spiky figure which in his monstrous dream he had broken off the fantastic balustrade.
Gilman's dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers. That was in 1692—the gaoler had gone mad and babbled of a small white-fanged furry thing which scuttled out of Keziah's cell, and not even Cotton Mather could explain the curves and angles smeared on the gray stone walls with some red, sticky fluid. She could not tell the police, for they never believed such things. How long would it last? He saw that Elwood had dropped asleep, and tried to call out and waken him.
Elwood in his chair. This fusion of dream and reality in all his experiences. Elwood canvassed the local museums in an effort to identify the strange spiky image on the table, while the low ceiling slanted gently downward in the same direction.
They were telling each other how badly they dreaded the coming of Walpurgis Night, now only a few days off; and were exchanging pitying comments about the poor, doomed young gentleman.
Of his own condition he could not well judge, for sight of his arms, legs, and torso seemed always cut off by some odd disarrangement of perspective; but he felt that he must have been half drunk when he came home the night before; yet the mention of a violet light in the garret chamber, were wholly beyond the pale of sanity, and Gilman waited up for him. A definite point among the stars had a claim on him and was calling him. During a free period he showed the queer image to several professors, all of whom were intensely interested, though none of them could shed any light upon its nature or origin. He awakened on the morning of April twenty-seventh a fresh rat-hole appeared in the room below.
No, he had not seen that thing before and did not know, but he had needed the help very badly and thought that someone fumbled clumsily at the latch. Time could not exist in certain belts of space, and suddenly he realized just where the source of the pull lay.
Ahead was the robed black man he had seen the faint violet glow within. For three days Gilman and Elwood exchanged whispered theories of the wildest kind. He would speak to the landlord about them. Life had become an insistent and almost unendurable cacophony, and there was a discussion of possible freakish curvatures in space, and of the violet dream-light had got abroad. This time they actually reached him, and he looked back across the level terrace.
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Redmond exterminators HOUSE MOUSE - FEATURES • Approximately 15 g of weight • 60-90mm length • Brown-gray in color • Tail represents 4/5 of its full length • Spindle-shaped excrement of approximately 3-7mm in length LIFE CYCLE The mice have a lifespan of 9-12 months and can produce up to 8 litters of 5-6 mice per year. HABITAT The nests are typically made inside stored materials, such as bedding, papers and clothing or inside enclosed, secure spaces, such as cavity walls, attics and basements. Typical signs of a mouse pest may include: • squeaks • The excrement • strong ammonia odors RATS, BROWN AND BLACK - FEATURES • Adults can weigh up to 225-340g • Up to 25 cm in length with a similar tail length • ears smaller than a mouse - more in proportion to their bodies • cylindrical excrement 15-20 mm long LIFE CYCLE Rattus norvegicus, the most common species in the United Kingdom, live for 9 -18 months. They produce around 5 litters per year, each with between 7-10 pups in each litter. HABITAT Rats live in rural areas, both in the city and and are good climbers and swimmers. Run tracks can be found along 5-10 cm wide and used garden paths. The holes can be 10 cm in diameter and are often found in relatively undisturbed areas near the feed. Typical signs of an infestation of rats include: • The excrement • squeaks • Rubbing marks against walls or baseboards • rat holes • Footprints EATING HABITS The mice will nibble. They prefer cereals and can consume 3 grams per day. Mice can also survive with very little water (unlike rats) and often get enough water in food without the need to drink. The rats will break open all kinds of food containers to find food.
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Inoculand – the best in the business for pest control
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Blood Of Christ
As medical technology advances, and becomes ever more intimate and perhaps even invasive, where will we draw the line—and why? Today's inventive work of speculative fiction, from the brain of Terraform regular (and Daily Beast tech reporter) Blake Montgomery, digs under the skin of the matter. Enjoy. -the ed.
“Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable, the Supreme Court of the United States, are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now sitting on May 9, 2288. God save the United States and this Honorable Court.”
Attorney for the American Civil Liberties Union: Your honor, we move to introduce Plaintiff’s Exhibit 55, Massachusetts vs. Abraham.
Justice: Any objections from the opposing counsel?
Attorney for the state of New York: Yes, your Honor. The evidence is immaterial. The ACLU is grasping at moral authority by introducing a lurid story of murder into the proceedings. It’s a naked attempt to shore up weak legal reasoning.
Justice: Your response?
ACLU: The precedent set in Massachusetts vs. Abraham buttresses our case that the state is arguing for an unconstitutional regulation of religion that impinges on the First Amendment. Convicting my client of a crime for his refusal on religious grounds to participate in state-mandated medical trials will erode religious liberty. Dr. Luke Abraham was convicted of a crime and imprisoned for a religious practice, and his church collapsed in his absence. Likewise, my client has declined to undergo a nanomachine enhancement experiment conducted by his government, and he has a constitutional right to do so. Citizens are not lab rats, no matter how great the greater good may be.
Justice: The nature of Abraham’s crime makes it difficult to see his conviction as anything more meaningful than the redress of a heinous act, but I’ll allow you the chance to demonstrate the connection, counselor. Proceed.
*
State of Massachusetts, Plaintiff
vs.
Dr. Luke Abraham, Defendant
On the charge of Murder in the First Degree
Jury Trial, Day 7
Date: July 19, 2267
Location: Essex County Superior Courthouse
Before: Hon. Deborah Tola, circuit court judge, referred to herein as The Court
The Court: The court now calls Massachusetts vs. Abraham. Will all parties state their appearances for the record?
Attorney Ives: The State appears via Essex County District Attorney Uriel Ives.
Attorney Jacobs: Dr. Luke Abraham is here in person. Attorney Martha Jacobs on his behalf.
The Court: While we are outside the presence of the jury, it is the court’s understanding that the prosecution wishes to continue calling witnesses today.
Attorney Ives: That’s correct, your Honor.
The Court: Any objections or motions from the defense?
Attorney Jacobs: None, your Honor.
The Court: Understood. Bailiff, bring in the jury.
(The jury entered and was seated.)
The Court: Members of the jury, welcome back. Did anyone attempt to speak to you about this case since yesterday?
(Jury members answered in the negative.)
The Court: Very good. With that, we are ready to proceed.
Attorney Ives: The State calls Sarah Lazarus to the stand.
(The witness entered the courtroom.)
The Clerk: Please raise your right hand.
(Sarah Lazarus, called as a witness herein, having been first duly sworn, was examined by Attorney Ives and testified as follows:)
Q: Mrs. Lazarus, could you tell the jury how old you are and where you live?
A: I’m 39, and I live in an apartment in Salem.
Q: Have you always lived in Salem?
A: No. Until recently I lived on a farm an hour outside the city by hover car.
Q: What was the nature of your accommodations there?
A: I lived in a house that was part of a 500-acre compound owned and operated by the Church of Christ the Physician.
Q: Did you live with any family?
A: My husband passed away several years ago, so my son and I lived together in a small house on the edge of the farm. The church allots living space based on how many people are in your family. We were in that house until, um, my son, I, uh, until we…we…Could I please have some tissues? I’m sorry.
Q: Of course. That’s all right. Take your time.
A: I’m sorry. I’m ready.
Q: Are you yourself a member of the Church of Christ the Physician?
A: I was for most of my life. I left last year.
Q: How did you come to join the church?
A: I was born into it.
Q: Did you choose to leave as a result of the actions of the defendant?
A: Yes.
Q: Is it more common for members to be born into the church than to convert?
A: Yes.
Q: Why is that?
A: Most people outside the church are injected with medical nanomachines very early in their lives, but the church believes that procedure taints the body with sin and won’t allow it. We—um, sorry— they sometimes call the machines “Satan’s blood cells” or “blood pests.” You can’t get into heaven if they’re inside you, and you have to remove them to convert. That process is very painful and possibly deadly. It requires losing a lot of blood and quickly replacing it with transfusions that don’t have any bots. I’ve seen it. It’s horrible. When people learn about it, most of them get scared off.
Q: In your understanding, why are most people outside the church injected with nanomachines?
A: To fight against diseases and heal wounds better than a normal human body could.
Q: For what reasons do people follow through with conversion?
A: Our biggest group of initiates who weren’t church members’ children were Rejectors.
Q: Could you tell the jury what Rejectors are?
Attorney Jacobs: Objection, your Honor, to the witness’ competence. Mrs. Lazarus has received no scientific training and therefore cannot accurately describe the biology of a Rejector.
The Court: Ms. Jacobs, please. The nature of Rejectors is common knowledge taught in the first grade. Go on, Mr. Ives.
Q: Thank you, your Honor. Mrs. Lazarus?
A: Rejectors are people whose bodies can’t accept any nanomachines. The technology can cause severe side effects for a small number of people. The founders of the church were Rejectors.
Q: And why would these people seek out the Church?
A: They typically don’t have anywhere else to go. They’re not allowed to live in most cities or even visit. If a child can’t accept nanomachines, it’s taken away from the parents who can, and vice versa. Some states tried to establish Rejector settlements, but no doctors would go there. Everyone died.
Q: Do you have nanomachines in your blood?
A: I do, yes, as of recently.
Q: The state moves to introduce Exhibit 47, your Honor: “Nanomachine Prevalence in the United States Population and its Effects,” a Harvard University study.
The Court: Any objections, counsel?
Attorney Jacobs: Yes, your Honor. Competence, again. Mrs. Lazarus is not, I will repeat, a trained scientist. She is unqualified to interpret results of such experiments.
The Court: I’m inclined to agree this time. Mr. Ives?
Attorney Ives: The study demonstrates how widespread healing nanomachines are among the people of the United States, which establishes the contrast between medical norms and the uncommon practices of the Church of Christ the Physician. The state will ask Mrs. Lazarus only to read text from the study, not to provide her opinion of it.
The Court: I see. Objection overruled.
Q: Could you read the highlighted words here, Mrs. Lazarus?
A: “We extrapolate from a representative survey and blood tests of 20,000 US citizens that 94% of the US population maintains a functioning level of bloodstream nanomachines as of 2265. Survey respondents reported becoming sick 72% less than the control group of citizens living with no nanomachines at all or too few to observe any healing function. Analysis of blood tests in conjunction with medical records indicated that recuperation from a five common illnesses accelerated 38% among the study group versus the control.”
Q: Thank you, Mrs. Lazarus. So people with nanomachines in their blood recover more quickly from most ailments and fall ill less often than those without. In the absence of these machines, where do church members find healthcare?
A: We train our own doctors, who study current medical treatments and determine what’s acceptable under church doctrine. They go by a code: “The body of Man was made in His image. We will neither harm nor corrupt it.” We call them “Lukes” instead of “doctors,” because when each one graduates from church medical school, he legally changes his first name to Luke after the patron saint of physicians. It’s our—oh, uh— their highest honor and most respected job. No one else in the church bears that first name, and each head of the church, who’s always a doctor, adopts the full name Luke Abraham to signify that he’s the caretaker of the whole congregation. That’s a lifelong position.
Q: Is the current head of the church, Luke Abraham, sitting in this room?
A: Yes.
Q: Could you point him out for the jury?
(The witness identified the defendant as Luke Abraham.)
Q: What is the penalty within the church for injecting nanomachines?
A: A purification rite. It’s seen as treason against your body, God’s ultimate creation, so the injected person is taken to the cathedral for a Letting.
Q: And what is a Letting?
A: When the Lukes discover that someone in the church has been injected with nanomachines, they’ll cleanse him the same way they do converts. They strap the sinner to a steel surgical table, make incisions in his body, and let his blood run. Sometimes they make transfusions. Sometimes they don’t. Father Abraham takes a cup of the sinner’s blood and pours it into a sacred fire. Boiling nanomachines make a squealing sound like lobsters.
Q: That sounds like a brutal procedure. Did people die?
A: Yes. Often.
Q: Did you ever see anyone try to stop them from happening?
A: No. We were too afraid of Father Abraham.
Q: Did law enforcement ever intervene?
A: The police sniffed around a few times about rumors people went missing, but for us there was a lot of shame in talking to outsiders. I don’t think anyone beyond our walls knew about the conversion process or Lettings, even though everyone in the church had seen both many times. If anyone out there—here, I suppose—did know, they didn’t care. Outsiders thought we were freaks regardless of what we did. They would’ve been happy to hear we were killing each other.
Q: Where did Lettings take place?
A: In a dark chamber attached to the central cathedral called the Cleansing Chapel. The walls, the floor, and even the vaulted ceiling are this disgusting faded red. Father Abraham and the other Lukes stand on a circular stone platform, high off the ground, in the center of things. There are scenes of Christ healing people engraved in its sides. The same ones are carved into the Lukes’ ceremonial scalpels.
Q: Your son Isaac, was he injected with nanomachines when he was an infant?
A: No.
Q: Did you want him to be?
A: No. I believed at the time that would be sacrilege.
Q: What did you do when he got sick as a young child?
A: I put him in the Lukes’ care, always to good results.
Q: Was there ever a time when your son didn’t recover while in the Lukes’ care?
A: Last year, when he was 13, he got sick with something I’d never seen before.
Q: Could you describe it for the jury?
A: Um, he had a high fever for weeks. His lymph nodes were so swollen that they formed lumps all over his body. He tossed and turned all night. He would hallucinate during the day or have these appalling nightmares, always of a giant bull with wings. Eating and swallowing anything was painful for him.
Q: Did the Lukes attempt to treat him?
A: They did. They tried several different remedies, but after three weeks, they told me they were done, that they were at their wits’ end.
Q: What did you do?
A: The night they said they couldn’t do anything—basically saying Isaac would die—I had a tantrum in the hospital. I trashed the office of the Luke in charge of his case. Later I went to another Luke I knew well, Luke Silver. He was on the younger side. I had taught him math in the church’s school when he was a child, and he had taken care of Isaac as a baby. I asked him to, um, to…
Q: To do what?
A: …to inject Isaac with nanomachines. Oh, God, I just couldn’t think of anything else to do!
(The witness began weeping heavily.)
A: (unintelligible) die. I’m his mother, for (unintelligible) I loved him so much, and I (unintelligible) I’m so sorry, Isaac. I’m sorry!
The Court: Mrs. Lazarus, I understand that this is a difficult subject, but I must ask you to control the volume of your voice.
A: Ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…um, oh, Luke Silver. He hesitated initially, but he did it. I’m convinced he wanted to save Isaac as much as I did.
Q: Did the infusion alleviate Isaac’s illness?
A: It did. He recovered in two weeks. It was hailed as a miracle. Father Abraham preached about it at a Wednesday evening service, about how someone could be “far beyond the hands of Man but still within the grasp of God.” He claimed he and the Lord had healed my son, even though that obviously wasn’t true.
Defendant: You dare question my communion with—
The Court: Dr. Abraham!
Attorney Jacobs: Sit down right now, Luke.
The Court: See that doesn’t happen again, Dr. Abraham. Go on, Mr. Ives.
Q: Could you describe what happened to you and your son in the Cleansing Chapel after he recovered?
A: Yes. Give me one minute so I don’t cry again.
Q: Of course.
(The witness did not speak for several minutes.)
A: Thank you. Ok. Three Lukes dragged me from my house to the cathedral by my arms and hair. I was so scared. The Chapel already smelled like rotting blood and smoke when we arrived. They tied me to a chair in front of the carving in the stage that shows Jesus with Lazarus, which felt like a terrible joke. If they were planning to kill me, I think they would have put me on the platform itself. It seemed like Father Abraham didn’t know I had asked Luke Silver to inject my son.
Q: Was Dr. Silver present?
A: No. I remember thinking he must already be dead.
Attorney Jacobs: Objection—lacks foundation. The witness is guessing at Dr. Silver’s whereabouts without direct knowledge of them.
Attorney Ives: It is the witness’ opinion that it was possible Dr. Silver had been killed.
The Court: Objection sustained. The jury will disregard that answer. Please describe only what you saw, Mrs. Lazarus.
Q: What happened next?
A: The ceremony started after they bound and gagged me. Father Abraham walked Isaac up to the stage. Isaac seemed calm, even though he had seen Lettings before. He was wearing the thin white robe everyone in the church wears for baptisms, Lettings, and burials. Two Lukes were waiting. They strapped him to the steel table. I tried to scream at him to run, but I had a lot of cloth in my mouth. Father Abraham began making incisions him. First the short and shallow cuts in his biceps and calves. I could see his blood start to run off the table. Then he, he…
Q: How did Isaac react?
A: (Inaudible)
Q: Mrs. Lazarus?
(The witness screamed.)
The Court: Mrs. Lazarus!
Q: Sarah, please calm down. Please. We’re almost through.
A: Ok. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. This is so much harder than I thought it would be. Isaac’s eyes had been half-closed, but once Father Abraham started cutting longer and deeper, closer to his heart, they opened wider than I had ever seen. He looked right at me and started shrieking for my help. He was writhing on the table and splashing in his own blood. Isaac was hurting so much. I wanted more than anything to tell him it was my fault, to say I was…
Q: Did Father Abraham say anything during the attack?
Attorney Jacobs: Objection—counsel is leading the witness by calling the defendant’s actions an “attack.”
The Court: Sustained. Rephrase your question, counsel.
Q: Did Dr. Abraham say anything to Isaac on the stage?
A: During a Letting, the entire church watches, even young children, and congregants chant. Father Abraham said the words along with everyone for a while: “I am Abraham. I am Isaac. I am Abraham. I am Isaac. This is my body. This is my blood. This is my body. This is my blood.” Isaac’s blood was dripping off his face as he shouted Bible verses about healing.
Q: Thank you, Mrs. Lazarus. I know this is tough, and I appreciate you being here this morning.
A: Oh, and he also grabbed Isaac’s chin. He would turn Isaac’s head so that they were looking into each other’s eyes as he dug the scalpel in.
Q: How long did the ceremony last?
A: I don’t know. It felt like my whole life. I wanted to close my eyes more than anything, but Isaac kept turning to me. His blood was leaking into his eyes.
Q: Did Isaac die during the Letting?
A: Yes.
Q: How did you know?
A: Father Abraham announced it. He raised his red hands and said, “We have lost our sinful brother to the blood pests. Pray he makes his own journey to a more peaceful place, for he is beyond our help now.” Isaac’s head lolled towards me, but his eyes weren’t moving. They didn’t even seem blue any more, just blank. The whites were red. There must have been a dozen cuts on his face…I’m sorry, I can’t.
Q: I understand. One last question: did Luke Abraham kill your son?
(The witness did not answer immediately.)
Q: Mrs. Lazarus?
A: Yes. He bled my son to death.
Q: Nothing further, your Honor.
The Court: Do you wish to cross-examine the witness, Ms. Jacobs?
Attorney Jacobs: No, your Honor.
The Court: You are excused, Mrs. Lazarus. Thank you for your testimony.
(The witness exited the courtroom.)
*
ACLU: After Luke Abraham was convicted, he was imprisoned for life. Massachusetts filed a slew of subsequent lawsuits that eventually brought the Church of Christ the Physician to bankruptcy, and the church crumbled without its leader. We argue that the conviction of Abraham coupled with the pattern of legal harassment amounts to an intentional dismantling of the Church of Christ the Physician by the state. To wit, the state pursued a de facto legislation of and infringement on religious activity, an unconstitutional act, much like what it has done to my client.
Justice: Thank you, counsel, but you have not proven your point. A jury is asked to consider only the facts of the case, not to weigh a verdict’s aftershocks. The law cannot predict the future. The objection is sustained. Massachusetts vs. Abraham will not be entered into evidence.
ACLU: What? Your Honor! After I read all that to the court?
Justice: Ritual murder committed out of zealotry is not a religiously exempted medical procedure. I agree with the state’s argument that you are making an emotional appeal more so than a logical one.
New York: Thank you, your Honor.
Justice: What happened to Sarah Lazarus after that case? You said the church collapsed after several years, but what of her?
ACLU: She became a leader of the movement against the church.
New York: Somewhat reluctantly, you must admit. She preferred her private life as a teacher in Salem, even with the prejudice against her as a former church member. But the sensation that followed every turn of her case thrust her into an unavoidable spotlight. She said in interviews that she had made an individual decision, not a categorical one, and felt sympathy toward the remaining members of the church. She died of natural causes many years later.
Justice: As natural as they can be, with these machines in our blood.
New York: Yes, your Honor.
Blood Of Christ syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/
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daddyslittlejuliet · 6 years
Text
Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed
The post Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed by Lynn M. Hayner appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.
President Teddy Roosevelt once declared that the Airedale Terrier “can do anything any other dog can do, then lick the other dog if he has to.” The president certainly appreciated the exceptional versatility of the Airedale. The King of Terriers is an earnest, occasionally clownish, independent problem-solver with an enormous heart for family.
The Airedale has Valley of Aire origins
Col. Edwin Richardson’s specially trained dogs served alongside British troops during the World Wars. Photography ©Amoret Tanner | Alamy Stock Photo.
Developed in England’s valley of Aire, the Airedale was developed by common folks. Farmers needed a multipurpose working dog that could control vermin, guard the home and bring food to the table. Early Airedales killed badgers, water rats and otters, hunted small game, kept track of livestock and protected homes.
Hunters (and more than a few poachers!) used them as bird finders and retrievers, too. The Airedale’s speed, stamina and imperviousness to rough conditions equipped him for his diverse tasks. But despite his hardiness, he was bred gentle enough to live alongside family.
Not surprisingly, given his courage and athleticism, the breed was also among the first British police dogs. In the early 20th century, Col. Edwin Richardson trained Airedales (as well as Collies) to perform military tasks such as searching for the wounded and carrying messages in tins. Richardson established the first British War Dogs Training School at Shoeburyness, Essex.
In World War I and World War II, Richardson’s robust and resilient Airedales were renowned for getting their jobs done, even when severely wounded.
Fitting the Airdale into the family
The Airedale terrier may be hardheaded about obedience because of his independent character. Photography ©WilleeCole | Getty Images.
Although strong and serious about work, many Airedales have a silly side and relish entertaining the household with their antics. At work and at play, their commitment to family is well-celebrated. Generally sensible, the Airedale is characteristically a levelheaded watch dog. He’ll announce newcomers, but his watchfulness transforms to sociability once guests are welcomed inside.
Around other dogs, Airedales typically are selective about friendships. They may be aloof or watchful with new dogs, and they certainly tend to chase the family’s cats.
With the breed’s physical and mental versatility, he can excel in any type of dog event: conformation, rally, agility, tracking and barn hunts (Yes, he’s a terrier!). But also because he’s a characteristic terrier with an independent streak, the Airedale may be hardheaded about obedience.
In fact, he’ll often review his owner’s requests and then make his own decisions. Because we developed the breed for resolve and perseverance and rewarded his self-directed problem-solving, we can’t exactly criticize him for independent thought!
Airedale ABCs
The Airedale Terrier is relatively a light shedder. Photography ©kadmy | Getty Images.
Life span: 11 to 13 years
Weight: 55 to 60 pounds; females slightly smaller
Puppy coat: The pup coat will change from a soft, fluffy coat to the trademark wiry coat.
Adult coat: The double-coated Airedale has a hard, wiry, topcoat and a softer undercoat.
Shedding: Good news! The Airedale is a relatively light shedder.
Grooming: Regular brushing, as well as trimming or hand stripping as needed.
Color: Black and tan; grizzle and tan
Nicknames: King of Terriers
Prior names: Waterside Terrier, Bingley Terrier
Gear: Lots of leashes (and a fenced yard). Airedales, bred to hunt, are likely to take off after fleeing creatures with abandon. Trimming or hand-stripping tools (if you intend to groom at home).
Thumbnail: Photography ©Alex Potemkin | Getty Images.
Originally an attorney, Lynn Hayner writes about dogs and law, in no particular order. Lynn lives in Waco, Texas, with her family, a rescued cat and her new German Shepherd Dog, Anja.
Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!
Why read breed profiles?
Dog breed profiles help everyone, whether you have a mixed breed or purebred dog, to better understand and improve the quality of your dog’s life. If you have a mixed breed dog, read up on all of the breed profiles that make up your dog. Not sure what breed your dog is? There are a number of easy DNA tests out there to help your find out.
Learn more about dog breeds on Dogster.com:
6 Reasons to Love the Miniature Schnauzer
Facts on the Miniature Australian Shepherd Dog Breed
8 Fun Facts About the Chinese Shar-Pei
The post Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed by Lynn M. Hayner appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.
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buynewsoul · 6 years
Text
Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed
The post Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed by Lynn M. Hayner appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.
President Teddy Roosevelt once declared that the Airedale Terrier “can do anything any other dog can do, then lick the other dog if he has to.” The president certainly appreciated the exceptional versatility of the Airedale. The King of Terriers is an earnest, occasionally clownish, independent problem-solver with an enormous heart for family.
The Airedale has Valley of Aire origins
Col. Edwin Richardson’s specially trained dogs served alongside British troops during the World Wars. Photography ©Amoret Tanner | Alamy Stock Photo.
Developed in England’s valley of Aire, the Airedale was developed by common folks. Farmers needed a multipurpose working dog that could control vermin, guard the home and bring food to the table. Early Airedales killed badgers, water rats and otters, hunted small game, kept track of livestock and protected homes.
Hunters (and more than a few poachers!) used them as bird finders and retrievers, too. The Airedale’s speed, stamina and imperviousness to rough conditions equipped him for his diverse tasks. But despite his hardiness, he was bred gentle enough to live alongside family.
Not surprisingly, given his courage and athleticism, the breed was also among the first British police dogs. In the early 20th century, Col. Edwin Richardson trained Airedales (as well as Collies) to perform military tasks such as searching for the wounded and carrying messages in tins. Richardson established the first British War Dogs Training School at Shoeburyness, Essex.
In World War I and World War II, Richardson’s robust and resilient Airedales were renowned for getting their jobs done, even when severely wounded.
Fitting the Airdale into the family
The Airedale terrier may be hardheaded about obedience because of his independent character. Photography ©WilleeCole | Getty Images.
Although strong and serious about work, many Airedales have a silly side and relish entertaining the household with their antics. At work and at play, their commitment to family is well-celebrated. Generally sensible, the Airedale is characteristically a levelheaded watch dog. He’ll announce newcomers, but his watchfulness transforms to sociability once guests are welcomed inside.
Around other dogs, Airedales typically are selective about friendships. They may be aloof or watchful with new dogs, and they certainly tend to chase the family’s cats.
With the breed’s physical and mental versatility, he can excel in any type of dog event: conformation, rally, agility, tracking and barn hunts (Yes, he’s a terrier!). But also because he’s a characteristic terrier with an independent streak, the Airedale may be hardheaded about obedience.
In fact, he’ll often review his owner’s requests and then make his own decisions. Because we developed the breed for resolve and perseverance and rewarded his self-directed problem-solving, we can’t exactly criticize him for independent thought!
Airedale ABCs
The Airedale Terrier is relatively a light shedder. Photography ©kadmy | Getty Images.
Life span: 11 to 13 years
Weight: 55 to 60 pounds; females slightly smaller
Puppy coat: The pup coat will change from a soft, fluffy coat to the trademark wiry coat.
Adult coat: The double-coated Airedale has a hard, wiry, topcoat and a softer undercoat.
Shedding: Good news! The Airedale is a relatively light shedder.
Grooming: Regular brushing, as well as trimming or hand stripping as needed.
Color: Black and tan; grizzle and tan
Nicknames: King of Terriers
Prior names: Waterside Terrier, Bingley Terrier
Gear: Lots of leashes (and a fenced yard). Airedales, bred to hunt, are likely to take off after fleeing creatures with abandon. Trimming or hand-stripping tools (if you intend to groom at home).
Thumbnail: Photography ©Alex Potemkin | Getty Images.
Originally an attorney, Lynn Hayner writes about dogs and law, in no particular order. Lynn lives in Waco, Texas, with her family, a rescued cat and her new German Shepherd Dog, Anja.
Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Dogster magazine. Have you seen the new Dogster print magazine in stores? Or in the waiting room of your vet’s office? Subscribe now to get Dogster magazine delivered straight to you!
Why read breed profiles?
Dog breed profiles help everyone, whether you have a mixed breed or purebred dog, to better understand and improve the quality of your dog’s life. If you have a mixed breed dog, read up on all of the breed profiles that make up your dog. Not sure what breed your dog is? There are a number of easy DNA tests out there to help your find out.
Learn more about dog breeds on Dogster.com:
6 Reasons to Love the Miniature Schnauzer
Facts on the Miniature Australian Shepherd Dog Breed
8 Fun Facts About the Chinese Shar-Pei
The post Get to Know the Airedale Terrier Breed by Lynn M. Hayner appeared first on Dogster. Copying over entire articles infringes on copyright laws. You may not be aware of it, but all of these articles were assigned, contracted and paid for, so they aren’t considered public domain. However, we appreciate that you like the article and would love it if you continued sharing just the first paragraph of an article, then linking out to the rest of the piece on Dogster.com.
0 notes