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just-a-borderline-poet · 3 years ago

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Grimoire Overview

I decided to copy over some of the basics I put in my grimoire so I can access them even when I don’t have the physical book with me :)

Directions:

East: Associated with Air, the color yellow,

South: Associated with Fire, red,

West: Water, Blue

North: Earth, Green.

Elements:

Air:

Direction: East. Colors: Yellow, Light Blue, White, Silver. Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius. Tarot: Swords/Spades. Magical tools: Incense, feathers. Air is the element of flexibility, instability, intellect, and detachment. It moves quickly, is good for workings involving change, movement, and speed. Air energy is also good for communication and contact with spiritual beings, and is linked to communication, mental activity, ideas, and social interactions.

Earth:

Direction: North. Colors: Brown, Green, Gray. Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn. Tarot: Pentacles/Diamonds. Magickal tools: The pentagram, salt, and stones. Earth is the element of stability. It is solid, and has a very slow and steady energy. Good for spells involving slow change, patience, or gradual developments. Associated with permanence, grounding, security, and endurance.

Fire:

Direction: South. Colors: Red and Orange. Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius. Tarot: Wands/Clubs. Magickal Tools: Candles, Wand. Fire is the element of clarity, passion, kinship, transformation, and inspiration. It is associated with vitality, creativity, action, daring, and enthusiasm. It moves fast, and is volatile and unpredictable. Fire energy is best for workings you want to kick up the power off, or that you want to see rapid change from. It is also good for spells involving transformation. It can also be used in banishing, divination, and purification.

Water:

Direction: West. Colors: Aqua, Blue, Indigo, Purple. Zodiac: Scorpio, Cancer, Pisces. Tarot: Cups/Hearts. Magickal tools: Chalice, Cauldron. Water is the element of movement, cleansing, and healing. It is associated with nourishing, cleansing and clearing, purification, intuition and emotion, creativity, lunar energy, growth, and abundance. Water energy is changable and unpredictable, but slightly less volatile than fire. Water energy is good to call on for change or to stimulate movement, or for cleansing, healing, and purification magic.

Spirit/Ether:

Isn’t technically an element, but is often treated as one. Is represented on the uppermost point of a pentagram. Spirit links the 4 elements, is associated with the divine.

Moon Phases:

New Moon: New beginning, refreshment, restarts, planning, ideas, a time to start new projects:

Waxing Crescent: Setting intentions, growth.

First Quarter: Decision making, action, reflection on decisions, change.

Waxing Gibbous: Clarification, detail, assessing goals.

Full Moon: Release, grounding, setting goals, making promises.

Waning Gibbous: Gratitude, reflection on blessings and things you’re grateful for.

3rd Quarter: Forgiveness, forgiving yourself, forgiving others.

Waning Crescent: Surrender, letting go, being mindful, avoid trying to hold on too tight to control at the cost of health and peace.

Color Magick:

Yellow: Abundance, life, joy, friendship, action, communication, intellect, inspiration, intuition, wisdom, pleasure, travel.

Orange: Creativity, adaptability confidence, energy, freedom, justice, goals, ambition, celebration.

Red: Passion, love, seduction, courage, energy, desire, action, change, power, motivation, overcoming obstacles.

Pink: Love, self care, healing, compassion, beauty, reconciliation, sensuality, kindness, nurturing, family.

Purple: Intuition, strength, creativity, enlightenment, psychic protection, projects, astrology, authority, emotion, imagination, wisdom, truth, independance, power, addiction, influence.

Blue: Peace, protection, communication, clarity, honesty, trust, leadership, justice, sleep.

Green: Earth, growth, earthly possessions, longevity, money, fertility, abundance, action, change, creativity, luck, harmony, peace, environment.

Black: Protection, warding, absorbing, acceptance, banishing, binding, strength, security, justice.

White: Stand in for other colors, cleansing, clearing, purity, purification, attracting, grounding, protection, peace, healing, divination,

Brown: Hard work, animals, grounding, balance, stability, endurance.

Grey/Silver: Healing, awareness, psychic ability, purification, moon, sea, stars, divination, femininity, success.

Gold: Abundance, fame, fortune, money, power, masculinity, sun, luxury, positivity, ambition, creativity.

Pentagrams:

Uppermost point: Spirit.

Upper left point: Air

Lower left point: Earth.

Upper right point: Water.

Lower right point: Fire.

To use a pentagram for summoning/invoking, draw the pentagram so that the first line goes towards the point of the element being invoked, or the element what you are invoking is associated with. To banish, the first line is drawn from that point away.

Uses of a Pentagram:

Creating a comfortable place for a visiting spirit, opening a window to the energy of a certain element or the being/thing invoked.

Days of The Week:

Sunday: Governed by the Sun. Solar energy, for advancement, ambition, confidence, creativity, dominance, egotism, expression, fame, fatherhood, friendship, greed, growth, happiness, healing, health, illumination, individuality, joy, leadership, life, manifestation, masculinity, motivation, personality, personal power, power, pride, prosperity, renown, self esteem, sense of self, strength, vitality, and wealth.

Monday: Governed by the Moon. Lunar energy, for psychic ability, magicakal prowess, emotion, instinct, illusion, astral work, birth, compassion, divination, dreams, empathy, femininity, glamour, gratitude, family, home, imagination, decreasing and increasing, intuition, motherhood, patience, spirituality, subtlety, and transformation.

Tuesday: Governed by Mars. Force, energy, physical strength, stamina, battles, confrontation, military, fighting, defense, sex, breaking down and through things, aggression, anger, boundaries, conflict, courage, lust, motivation, passion, protection, escaping bondage, vengeance, vitality, vigor, and war.

Wednesday: Governed by Mercury. Thought, movement, communication, processing, business, trade, perspective, deception, flexibility, healing, insight, intellect, knowledge, logic, magick, memory, mental processes, music, poetry, protection, science, speaking, studying, technology, theft, travel, trickery, and waiting.

Thursday: Governed by Jupiter. Higher truth, justice, leadership, wisdom, faith, expansion, ambition, blessings, abundance, ascendance, authority, devotion, enthusiasm, ethics, fortune, growth, higher purpose, higher consciousness, honor, humor, law, legal systems, life path, luck, optimism, philosophy, morality, politics, prosperity, religion, responsibility, rules, spirituality, true will, truth, and wealth.

Friday: Governed by Venus. Beauty, receptivity, attraction, fertility, poison, agreements, affection, art, co-operation, culture, emotion, friendliness, friendship, grace, glamour, inspiration, jealousy, love, luring, luxury, passion, peace, pleasure, relationships, romance, self-confidence, sensuality, sex, sexuality, sociability, and valuables.

Saturday: Governed by Saturn. Rules, restriction, contraction, shielding, protecting, boundaries, evolution, endings, karma, dark, gloom, defensive, harvest, aging, agriculture, austerity, binding, death, destruction, duty, equilibrium, fear, formation, history, initiation, intimidation, life cycle, life lessons, limits, patience, perseverance, practicality, prudence, responsibility, sacrifice, self discipline, shadow work, teaching, time, and wisdom.

Tarot:

Cups/Hearts: Emotion, relationships.

Wands/Clubs: Passion, action, protection, decisions.

Pentacles/Diamonds: Practical life, earth, grounding, home, finances.

Swords/Spades: Communication, thought.

Fool/Joker: New beginnings, or foolishness.

Ace: Beginnings.

2: Balance.

3: Connection.

4: Stability.

5: Disturbance.

6: Harmony.

7: Mystery.

8: Movement.

9: Growth.

10: Completion.

#witchcraft #witch #grimoire #book of shadows #tarot #moon phases #moon #days of the week #color magick #pentagrams #elements

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

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The Daughter Of Superman, The Adopted Son Of Batman...What Could Go Wrong? PT. 1

Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I totally forgot about this one! If you like how cute and fluffy it is, just wait for PT. 2! It gets angsty >:) -Thorne

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They were pretty lazy teenagers when they weren’t busy saving the world with super speed, strength, and smarts. Even if their textbooks were spread all over his bed they were still too lazy to actually do their homework, instead scrolling through social media apps and trolling all the citizens of San Francisco about the identities of the Young Justice Team.

She glanced up from the advanced calculus textbook and stared at the boy laying across her thighs. “Tim, isn’t your dad hosting a gala this weekend?” he hummed in response, and she asked, “Are we allowed to come?”

He didn’t bother looking up from the tablet he was tapping at and nodded. “Yeah. Bruce already added your names to the list, (Y/N).” a flicker of a smile came over his lips and he added, “Of course I had to wear him down in order to get Bart on the list.”

She looked over at their speedster and grinned. “I’m kinda surprised Bruce actually let you on the list Bart.”

A shocked expression etched across his face and he questioned, “Why do you say that?”

(Y/N) shifted Tim’s head, smiling as he grunted from being moved, and rose from the bed, walking over to the minifridge. She pulled out a soda before jumping back on the bed. “Because between you, Tim, Conner, and me, you’re the one who gets us into the most trouble.” She shifted Tim’s head back into her lap, petting his hair until he smiled.

“I do not!”

“Oh really? Do you remember prom night? It’s been almost two years and they stillcall us and talk about the absolute mess we—well, you caused.”

“That cake wasn’t there when I started running, I swear!” he pointed at Tim. “Tim it wasn’t! You know that!”

The others cackled at his protest, and (Y/N) glanced at Conner. “You gonna bring M’Gann?”

A faint pink tinged his cheeks, and he shifted his gaze down at his physics textbook. “Uh…maybe.”

(Y/N) leaned forward, poking his cheek. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast, little brother.”

He swatted her hand and glared at her. “Shove off.”

She snorted and glanced at Tim. “What about you, Timbers? You going to go with Stephanie?”

“Steph and I aren’t dating anymore, (Y/N).”

“For now. But you two like each other.” She smiled and singsonged, “She’s your first love~”

“What about you?” Tim scowled. “Who’s your date?”

She grunted at him and laid flat in the bed, Bart’s legs under her back. “Are you kidding me? You know my dad won’t let me get a boyfriend, let alone a date to a gala for a night.”

“You’re nineteen, (Y/N). I think you’re allowed to start dating.”

“And my parents help pay for part of my utilities. Does it look like I’m going to do anything to tip that delicate balance of not having to pay for all that?” she sighed. “Dad’s always been that way when it comes to me.”

“Daddy’s little girl.” Conner grinned.

(Y/N) grunted and reached over, shoving Conner off the bed. “Don’t call me that. I am not a daddy’s girl.”

The others laughed at her and Tim quipped, “Yes, you are. You two go on father-daughter dates every month and take pictures to show everyone.” She glared at him and he smiled, continuing, “Maybe we can find a date for you at the gala.”

“You can try. But mom and dad are going to be there. If dad sees me with a boy, he’s liable to lose his mind.” The others laughed again, and (Y/N) rested her head down on Bart’s lap. “I need a dress, Timmy.”

He glanced over at her and tapped a few buttons before showing her the screen. “How does this look?”

(Y/N) took the tablet from him and looked over it, taking in the image of the navy-blue dress. “I like the color, but this is a Cinderella dress. Give me something not as…poofy.” He nodded and took the tablet back, tapped on it, then handed it back to her. “Hmm…too booby.” The other two boys giggled at her answer and Tim sighed, taking the tablet again.

He handed it back to her once more and she looked at the dress. “Mermaid silhouette…sheer side…strappy back…” She glanced up at Tim and nodded. “Got a pair of shoes to match?” He hummed and she grinned. “Then I’ll take it. Thanks Timbers.” He nodded once more, and she nudged Bart. “Oi Allen.”

“What?”

“Don’t run into the cake at the gala, okay? It’ll probably cost more than you.”

“It was an accident! Stop bringing it up!” The others simply laughed at him.

***At The Kent Farm***

“Mom! Dad! Jon! I’m home!” She shut the door behind her and turned, catching Jon who’d launched himself at her. “Kid you’re getting too big to do that.” He laughed at her and she let him down, ruffling his hair. “Where’s mom and dad?”

“Out back with Krypto.” He tugged on her sweatshirt. “Did you bring me anything from the tower, sissy? Did ya? Did ya?”

(Y/N) snorted and rummaged in her pocket, pulling out one of Tim’s crimson shurikens. “Tim gave this to me to give to you.” She handed it to him but held it when he reached for it, “Do not,” she warned firmly, “cut yourself with this or mom and dad will make you give it back after they finish tearing me a new one for giving it to you.”

“I won’t!” he promised and she watched his eyes light up in wonder when he took it. She ruffled his hair once more before walking towards the backdoor.

She stepped outside and saw her dad throwing a ball with Krypto, her mom watching from the back porch; she walked over and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, mom.”

Lois glanced up at her and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re home early.”

(Y/N) nodded, sitting down beside her. “School let out for the week, and we didn’t have any missions from the Justice League, so I figured I’d spend a few days here instead of cooped up in the tower.”

“I’m glad you decided to come home, hon. It’s always nice when you come back.”

She looked up and saw Clark walking towards her. “Hey, dad.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Hey sweetheart, how were the boys?”

“They’re good. We did our usual thing.”

Clark sat on her other side. “Collapse on Tim’s bed and lay around like lethargic teenagers?”

(Y/N) snorted and shoved his shoulder lightly. “We were productive young adults. We finished over-break assignments and reports. Well…mostly. Still got that thirty page physics paper I have to write but…I’ll let that stew awhile.”

He chuckled. “Anything else happen today?”

“Talked about the gala this weekend.” She paused. “You guys are coming too, right?” They nodded and (Y/N) laid back on the porch, pulling out her phone. “Ugh…I remember how badly the Wi-Fi sucked out here. I don’t have any service at all.” She looked at her mom. “I don’t how a journalist like you manages to live in the middle of nowhere like this and still stay sane.”

Lois snorted and thumped her leg. “It’s called satellite service. Now c’mon, let’s go inside. Dinner should be done by now.” (Y/N) rose from the porch and they all began walking in when the sound and feel of rushing air came over them. She and Clark immediately spun, ready to defend themselves when they saw Conner hovering in the sky.

His eyebrows were drawn in slight concern. “(Y/N)! We need you!”

She nodded, shucking off her sweatshirt and pants, revealing the blue suit underneath. The crimson cape billowed around her and she glanced up at him. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve got simultaneous bank robberies all over SF. Bart and Tim are already on the first few. I came to get you.”

(Y/N) turned to her parents. “Rain check on dinner guys.” She turned in the direction of San Fransisco, eyes darting wildly as she viewed her teammates positions. After a second, she nodded. “I’ve got em, Bart’s on the east, Tim’s on south. You take north and I’ll take west.”

He nodded and she shot up from the ground. They were almost in San Francisco when her father’s voice reached her. “Be careful, (Y/N).”

She curled her fists when the bank doors came into view and responded, “Always am, dad.”

***

“The dress looks fine, (Y/N).”

She glanced up at Tim who was smiling at her; she let out a sigh, letting go of the side strap she’d been tugging, still semi-uncomfortable with how it fit. “I know it does. But I feel like it’s still a little…grown up for me. I’ve never had a dress this open in the back or the sides since…ever.” The boys laughed and she smiled at Bart and Conner. “I forgot how well you two cleaned up.”

Bart pulled at both sides of the bowtie and winked at her, while Conner merely grunted, “I still hate tuxedos.”

“You’re definitely going to hate the long hours of your wedding then.” They laughed once more, and the car pulled around the venue.

Tim looked at them and grinned. “Show time, lady and gents.” They followed him out of the limo, grinning at the cameras as they walked inside.

Immediately, the view made her eyes go wide and she gaped. “Damn…this place is…really big.”

Tim shrugged nonchalantly, “I dunno, the ballroom in Wayne manor is bigger, but definitely more expensive.”

Bart shook his head. “Tim, my dude…we live on minimum wage not a billionaire’s salary.” (Y/N) and Conner simply nodded, still dumbfounded at the sheer size.

Tim rolled his eyes and looked around. “There’s Bruce and the others.”

She glanced in the direction he was looking and she saw her parents with Bruce. “Looks like mom and dad are busy chatting.” The others nodded and she turned to Tim. “What exactly are we supposed to do at a gala?”

“Have fun?” (Y/N) heaved a sigh and stared at him until he said, “You dance and drink and eat. That’s all you do.” He waved his hands. “Go knock yourselves out.”

They started to fan out when (Y/N) called out to them. “Wait!” They paused, turning back around. “We should go talk to Bruce and tell him thanks for inviting us.” They nodded and followed Tim over to Bruce.

He saw them coming and turned, holding out his hand to her. “Good to see you, (Y/N). You look wonderful this evening.”

Her cheeks warmed at the compliment and she smiled, giving his hand a firm shake. “It’s good to see you too, Mister Wayne, you don’t look too bad yourself. Thank you for inviting us to the gala.” The others shook his hand, and she turned to her parents. “Hey mom, dad.”

Lois walked around her and squealed, “You look so beautiful!”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm as the others smiled in her direction. “Mom…chill out, you’re embarrassing me.” She merely laughed but stepped back over to Clark’s side and (Y/N) looked around. “Bart have you—and he’s already at the buffet table.” Snickers sounded behind her and she sighed. “I’m going to make sure that the bottomless pit doesn’t devour all your food before your guests can eat, Mister Wayne.”

They watched her walk off and when she got over to the table Bart was standing in front of, she saw him shoving food in his mouth. “Oh my god…Bart, what are you doing?”

He turned to her, and swallowed, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “I haven’t eaten anything today,” he licked his thumb clean. “I’m hungry.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and sighed. “Just try not to eat your fingers, would you?”

He snorted and pointed to an appetizer. “You should try the pigs-in-a-blanket. They’ve got this sauce on top that’s just—.”

A low voice cut him off. “They have pigs-in-a-blanket! What!” They turned to see a young man a couple years older than them reaching over. “The old man’s never had something this plain at a gala.” He popped one in his mouth, then turned to them. “You’re Timberly’s friends, right?”

They nodded and (Y/N) gazed, something about him tugging at her mind. “I know you from somewhere.” She stared into his teal eyes and suddenly she remembered where she knew him from; she’d never forget those teal eyes and how angry they’d been. “You’re Jason Todd, aren’t you? Bruce’s second son.”

He grinned. “That’s me. Have you and I met before? I have to agree with you, because you look really familiar.”

(Y/N) glared at him and crossed her arms, spitting. “We met in the Hall of Fallen Titans three years ago.”

Jason’s eyes briefly widened, before they narrowed in amusement. “You’re the one who threw me out the third story window after I kicked Timber’s ass.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about all that, doll. Timmy and I are good now. You can ask the speedster about it.”

She continued to glower at him until Bart leaned over, propping his chin on her shoulder. “He’s telling the truth, (Y/N). Tim told me a while back that he and Jason are brothers now.”

Jason nodded and she finally stopped glaring at him. “Just so you know Jason, I can still throw people out windows.”

He smiled and held out a hand, watching her place hers in it; he brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, doll.”

Bart poked her side and grinned. “I’m gonna go see Tim and Conner. I’ll leave you two alone.”

He wandered off and (Y/N) pulled her hand back. “So, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Jason chuckled. “Oh, I was. I got better. We just made up a story about me getting lost, yadda yadda yadda, I’m not important.” He propped his elbow on the wall above her and grinned. “But what is important, is how pretty you look in your dress.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”

“Is it not?”

“It could be a little better.”

He laughed and she found herself smiling along with him. He nodded towards the balcony. “Wanna get some air?”

She nodded, and they walked out into the night. (Y/N) gazed up at the stars and sighed in wonder. “There’s billions of them out there…I’ve never tried to leave earth and go search for them on my own.”

Jason leaned on the railing and gazed at her. “How come?”

(Y/N) shrugged, leaning against the railing too. “Dad’s full Kryptonian…me and Jon are, to use a less than favorable term, half-breeds.” She paused. “I’m not sure if I would survive like dad does out in space.”

“Won’t know ‘til you try.”

She huffed a laugh and looked at him. “If I’m wrong, I might die.”

“And if you try and you’re right, you won’t be dead.”

She shook her head at him, a smile playing at her lips. “You’ve got answers to everything, don’t you, Jason?”

He grinned at her. “I find that being sharp and witty helps with the crowds, doll.” The music sounded from inside the ballroom, and he stepped back, offering her a hand. “May I have this dance?”

(Y/N) rested her hand in his, feeling him pull her close, his other hand resting on her lower back; it was warm against her open skin and she cleared her throat. “I should warn you, I can’t dance to save my life.”

A cocky smirk crossed his lips and he leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “I can take the lead, doll…all you have to do is give it to me.”

“Your flirtations need work too.”

Jason chuckled in her ear, making her shiver as he pulled back. “I don’t think they do.”

“Arrogance isn’t attractive, Jason.”

“Mhm.”

“It isn’t.”

“I heard you the first time, doll.” As they swayed to the music, he asked, “So, how’d you and Nerd-bird become friends?”

“We met through Conner.”

“The clone?”

“My brother.”

“Sorry.”

“He introduced the two of us, and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Only friends? Nothing more?”

It was (Y/N)’s turn to smirk and she looked at him. “Are you asking because you want to know if there’s competition?”

He stopped moving and they stood still, her in his arms. “Just want to know if there’s anyone between me and first place.”

She huffed a laugh. “God, you’re something else.” Her eyes found his and she asked, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Jason nodded and stepped back, holding out his hand. “Where do you want to go?”

(Y/N) smirked and stepped forward, closing the distance he’d created, and wrapped an arm around his waist. His teal eyes widened, and she looked back at the party; no one noticed them, and she turned back to face him, “Up, up, and away.” They flew upwards, and she felt him latch onto her. “Why are you acting like I’m going to drop you, Jason?”

He made a waring noise in his throat. “I have a friend who’s an Amazon, and she is…very fond of throwing and dropping me.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Sounds like we’d get along spectacularly. She likes dropping you…I like throwing you out of windows…”

“That was one time. And you caught me when I was off-guard.”

“Uh huh, sure. You got your ass kicked by a sixteen-year-old and I think you’re just bitter.”

He grumbled at her. “Rub it in, why don’t you, doll.” She laughed and lowered them down; their feet hit the roof and he looked at it. “Wayne Enterprises? Why?”

She shrugged. “Cool tower…nice view.” She took a seat on the ledge, listening to him sit beside her.

He leaned over. “Almost romantic…don’t you think?”

(Y/N) eyed him, seeing a goofy smile on his face; she snorted, shoving him lightly. “You’re cheesy.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She glanced back at the water. “You know if this goes anywhere, my dad and your dad aren’t going to be happy.”

Jason snorted, nonchalantly replying, “Doll, there’s a few things I’m afraid of in life. Superman and Batman…are not those things.”

“Is that arrogance or confidence I hear coming through?”

He shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

(Y/N) smiled, then she felt his hand rest on hers, letting him link their fingers; she turned her face to him. “Is this the part where you tell me I’m beautiful and ask to kiss me?”

Jason grinned. “No, this is actually the part where I tell you you’re drop dead gorgeous…can I kiss you?”

She giggled, leaning in, and just before his lips brushed hers, she whispered, “You know I can kick your ass, right?”

He groaned. “Should I mention that strong women really do wonders to me?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and brought her free hand up, curling in his shirt. “Shut up and kiss me, Jason.”

“With pleasure.” His lips met hers, and she felt him bring his hand up, cupping her cheek. She pulled back ever-so-slightly, but he chased her, pressing his lips to hers again. He let go of her hand and brought his other hand up. He lowered her down until (Y/N)’s back was flat against the ledge; the chill from the stone made her arch her back off it, and press into his chest.

Jason pulled away slightly and smirked at her. “Cold?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “If you want to keep making out, jokes aren’t going to do the job.” He snorted at her and leaned forward again, intent on kissing her senseless when someone cleared their throat, startling them.

They sat up quick as lightning, turning in the direction of the sound. “I wondered where my daughter had flown off to.”

“Oh my god,” she hissed and covered her face with her hands. “Dad. C’mon…seriously?” Clark stepped onto the ledge and walked towards them.

Jason leaned down, whispering, “Is he going to throw me off the ledge?”

This made her giggle despite trying not to and she shoved him. “Shut up, Jason.”

He grinned at her and rose from his position, standing in front of her father. “Mister Kent.”

“That’s my daughter.”

“Oh, I know it is. I still remember how she threw me out of a building a few years ago. I get teary thinking about it.”

The corner of Clarks mouth rose, but then dipped back down, and (Y/N) stood up. “Dad, I’m nineteen. This whole, ‘daddy’s little girl can’t date’ bit, is getting old.” A hurt look crossed his face and she stepped forward, taking his hand. “To you, I’ll always be your little girl, dad. But sooner or later you’ve gotta come to grips with me dating and having…mature relationships.”

Clark held her gaze, then glanced at Jason who grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Does it have to be one of his kids? I mean if it’s going to be, I like Tim.”

“Ew, gross. Tim’s my best friend.”

“What about Dick?”

“Nice butt, but he and Kori are dating.” She paused and smiled at him. “The only one left is Jason, dad.”

Clark eyed Jason once more, then Jason offered, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m slightly afraid of your daughter.”

He sighed. “Thank you, Jason. I can tell.” Turning to her, he cupped her cheek. “It feels like yesterday I was bringing you home for the first time.”

“Dad…stop…we don’t need sentimentality right now.”

Clark hummed and smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead; he turned to Jason and leveled him with a hard look. “I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you make her sad.”

Jason gave him a mock salute. “Chances are I’ll be in ICU after I was thrown out a building.”

“Oh my god. Let that go.”

They laughed, and Clark rose from the rooftop. “I’ll need to get back to the party. Don’t do anything crazy.”

They waved him off and (Y/N) turned to Jason. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

He nodded. “There’s a pizza shop down the block from here.”

“Sounds great.” (Y/N) rose a few feet off the roof when she heard a cough behind her.

She spun around and looked down at Jason. “Doll…I don’t know if you know this…but I can’t fly.”

“Whoops. My bad.” She lowered back onto the rooftop and held out her arm.

He walked into it and wrapped an arm around her waist, then tipped his head to her. “Up, up, and away.”

(Y/N) snorted as she rose. “You’re still cheesy, Jason.”

The grip on her waist tightened as he murmured, “I know.”

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years ago

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Anonymous asked: You are one of the more thoughtful and intelligent conservative blogs I’ve come across and I am in awe of your wide learning and your takes on culture. I notice that you shy away from wading into controversial hot button topics in the US (I respect that because it’s not the purpose of your blog I know!) but how would you briefly characterize the impact of wokeness in our culture and society?

Briefly?

Too brief?

Okay, let me clarify a little.

‘Wokeness’ is political correctness on steroids. It aims may be sincere but its method is pure madness. It associates itself with breaking away from any kind of rationality and logic and the complete subjugation of truth and the self to emotions. Its hatred towards of everything that has been carefully built up through long established truth and tradition is an act of moral vandalism.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. Take your eyes off your Twitter stream or better swtich off your social media and look around. It’s important to take a breath.

Hard as it may be in the echo chambers of the left and the right to understand, ‘wokeness’ is only a thing in the Anglo-American world. It has made negligible impact elsewhere so far (yes, it’s making inroads into Europe but not as much as Americans might think). Even in France, the country that gave birth to the very ideas upon which the foundations of the ideology of wokedom rests (the ideas of Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze that traveled to the Californian campuses since the 1970s), ‘wokedom’ hasn’t taken root. Indeed even France’s leftist intellectuals (many of them direct disciples of Foucault and Derrida) are horrified at how mangled and misunderstood their masters’ ideas have permeated into the rot of American intellectual discourse that’s now being drip fed into the cultural mainstream.

I sometimes wish I could take some of these white and black SJWs with me and show them the world (I’m pretty sure they’re don’t travel or engage seriously with other cultures or even learn their languages). To show them how the world they inhabit is so shallow and inconsequential.

Go to Africa, South Asia, the Middle East, or the Far East, and many just have no idea what ‘being woke’ is. More importantly, they do not care. Their struggles and challenges are a world away from the skin deep victimhood fueled tantrums of the Anglo-American millenial middle classes.

Those that do know (the ones who travel to the West) are shocked. For my Chinese friends in both mainland China and Hong Kong, they look at ‘Cancel culture’ and how it is used to destroy people, publicly humiliate them just like intellectuals were during the Cultural Revolution in China. There is no grace, no forgiveness, just sadistic pleasure in personal annihilation. They worry that the West - whom they respect and admire in many ways - is on a self-inflicted path to catastrophic destruction.

Some say that ‘wokeness’ is the new religion of the aimless white middle class millenials and ‘social justice’ is its new god. I can see the analogy except in one crucial and important aspect. Unlike Christianity which grew from the ground up through the truly marginalised - women and slaves - to change the world, wokeness has always been a top down movement, just like all the ill-fated and blood soaked ‘isms’ of the past (jacobinism, socialism, and communism).

False gods will always fall.

Let me be clear, there is nothing wrong with political activism per se, it is a mark of an engaged citizen and a good neighbour to stand up for things that are unfair and unjust. But when political activism is based on destructive emotions, we all lose.

I certainly don’t hate leftist wokeists because hate is such an unhelpful emotion. I have my fair share of ‘woke’ friends so of course I don’t hate them. I really do listen to them before I forensically chip away at their flawed reasoning; however, when your whole identity is based on emotional reasoning rather than a rational or empirical one then that is hard going.

Nor do I blame the woke left. That would be too easy. I blame the rest of us because we as a collective have lost sight of inherited history, cultural traditions, and unique national heritage. In short, we in the West have lost faith in our own ideals.

This is as brief as I can be....

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #wokeness #society #civilisation #western society #ideas #ideology #christianity #truth #emotions

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mrs-nate-humphrey · 4 years ago

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So not to be dramatic, but if you could get a degree in discourse-ology, the topic of my master’s thesis would definitely be “Which political candidates did the characters of the CW’s Gossip Girl (2007-2012) support?” I’m doing this in order from most to least obvious, and considering both the 2016 and 2020 presidential elections.

[ little ivy interjection here: i haven’t changed ANYTHING, except adding a screencap of the title + the submission, because that made me laugh & more people deserve to see it, and putting this under a read more because that’s how i generally try & organise stuff on this blog. so this submission is exactly as it was when i received it! also while we’re at it, anon, this MADE my day.]

Blair Waldorf: “Hillary Clinton is one of my role models. I do not break treaties, you ass!” (04x13) There’s no question that Blair would go hard for Hillary in 2016, she praised her on multiple occasions throughout the series. Blair’s a classic American neoliberal, third wave Democrat-type: she’s decently progressive when it comes to social policies, and would be decidedly supportive of causes like gay marriage, racial equity, and women’s reproductive rights, but she’s still very much in favor of maintaining the status quo when it comes to capitalism and the hegemonic structure of power that, lets face it, heavily favors her own class interests. To use the American healthcare system as an example: Blair would have been all for the Affordable Care Act, and is largely supportive of the idea of creating a public option - but single payer, nationalized health care? It just wouldn't work in a country like the United States for “X” reason (although the real reason, deep down, is that she doesn’t want to see her tax rate go up in any meaningful way). So she’s thoroughly for Clinton in both the 2016 primaries and the general election, she maybe even comes out with a line of high-end “I’m With Her” merchandise if she’s still CEO of Waldorf Designs, and is personally heartbroken when Clinton loses.

Flash forward to the 2020 primaries. Blairhates Donald Trump, like emotionally, viscerally hates him - his misogyny, his incompetence, and his blatant tackiness are a direct repudiation of her beliefs, and the fact that he’s representing Manhattan society and the Upper East Side to the world in such a godawful way is frankly embarrassing. So in a certain sense, her strategy, like frankly many Americans at the time going into the 2020 Democratic primaries is, “Which one of these candidates has the greatest chance at beating Donald Trump?” I see Blair being rather conflicted at first, but ultimately going for either Amy Klobuchar or Kamala Harris. She has a certain admiration for Elizabeth Warren given her professional background, but her policies are a bit too progressive for someone like Blair. Buttigeg is fine, but not especially thrilling. Biden, quite frankly, doesn’t seem like he has any real chance at winning, although I think he’d be Blair’s third choice after Harris and Klobuchar. I can see her leaning more towards Harris ultimately - although, after the “Amy Klobuchar throws staplers at her interns!!” rumors start spreading, Blair cannot help but, at a personal level, kind of respect her for that. When Biden unexpectedly takes South Carolina and then the Democratic nomination, Blair is a bit disappointed, but not overly so, and quickly marshals her financial resources into supporting and fundraising for him for the remainder of the election. At least it’s not Sanders - or Bloomberg. As a New Yorker, of course Blair’s opinion is “Fuck Michael Bloomberg”.

Chuck Bass: Now here’s where it gets interesting. Chuck, as you said, isn’t stupid - there’s no way he falls for the “build the wall” crap or any of Trump’s rhetoric, he knows it’s a bullshit farce and sees right through it. But you know what he definitely is? Deeply greedy and deeply selfish. I’m hardly the first person to point this out, but Chuck Bass is, in many ways, the fictional equivalent of the Donald Trumps and Michael Bloombergs and Brett Kavanaughs of the world - new money billionaire who inherited his wealth from his father working in the real estate industry, who despite his lack of business acumen and deeply problematic history with women, has managed to coast through life failing upwards with absolutely no social or legal accountability? I mean, back in 2010, Forbes Magazine actually did a real interview with the fictional Chuck Bass in which they outright compare him to Donald Trump. I couldn’t tell you if the Gossip Girl writers meant to write Chuck as their Trump analogue - I mean, they did invite Jared and Ivanka onto the show, after all - but the parallels are just too strong to ignore. All of which is to say, not only did Chuck Bass vote for Donald Trump, he held exclusive political fundraisers for him and was probably a substantial donor to his campaign. Now, did Chuck distance himself publicly over time as the political climate became increasingly caustic and public sentiment towards Trump plummeted even further? Perhaps, perhaps not. It really depends on if the board of Bass Industries felt like being connected to Trump was a liability or an asset - but privately, I imagine Chuck once again voted for him in 2020, because the one policy Donald Trump did effectively execute during his tenure in office was massive tax cuts for billionaires, and for someone like Chuck Bass, that’s the only political policy that really matters. He wouldn’t wear a red hat and wouldn’t be caught dead within sniffing distance of a MAGA rally and the hoi polloi, but dude is basically the image of what the kind of rich conservatives backing the Trump administration for personal gain look like. On the off chance that the distastefulness of it all got to be a little much for even Chuck post-2016, perhaps he might switch his vote to Bloomberg. But I highly doubt Chuck would be politically invested in anything other than his own wallet to such an extent that he wouldn’t vote for Trump, no matter how much it would no doubt completely infuriate Blair.

Dan Humphrey: As the unofficial king of the hipsters, Dan has been a Sanders supporter since before it was cool. Seriously, Bernie Sanders appeals to Dan intrinsically on every level - his policies, his rhetoric, even his aesthetic - the rumpled old man with wild hair wearing mittens and railing against the upper class is the sort of thing that’s basically political catnip for someone like Dan Humphrey. Not only would Dan vote for Sanders in both the 2016 and 2020 primaries, he’d go out and be one of the celebrities campaigning for him. This would definitely lead to him butting heads with Blair, and she would no doubt call him out on supporting someone like Sanders when Dan himself is now a millionaire, who made his money from writing stories about the upper class. The fact that in 2017 he apparently gets married to Serena, a billionaire heiress, and may or may not have been engaged to her back in 2016 when the Democratic primaries were happening might cause him a bit of cognitive dissonance, but really, just because he’s climbed up the socio-economic ladder now doesn’t mean his values have really changed, have they? (Debatable.) In any case, in both the 2016 and 2020 general elections, Dan would definitely vote for Clinton and Biden respectively - although he’d be significantly more disgruntled about it than Blair would be switching from Harris to Biden. I don’t think Dan would be a “Bernie bro” in the way that term is used, but he’d definitely chafe against Clinton’s past policy decisions, and would probably make some snippy Tweets about her during the election. Nevertheless, once it became clear that Trump was going to be the Republican nominee and was a serious threat, I think Dan would change his tone and start encouraging his fans and followers to vote for Clinton. Likewise, in 2020, Dan would probably become one of the Sanders supporters doing outreach for Biden, having become more politically pragmatic following the experience of living under the Trump administration.

Vanessa Abrams: Much like Dan, Vanessa is a progressive, although unlike Dan, Vanessa’s activism is more focused around specific issues and less around specific politicians. I can see Dan and Vanessa being in roughly the same place in 2016, and given that the only real choices were between Sanders and Clinton in the primaries (RIP to Martin O'Malley), Vanessa would no doubt go for Sanders. Whereas Dan might campaign for Sanders directly however, Vanessa would instead focus her time and resources around advocacy for specific causes that are important to her, like climate change and racial justice, and would probably use her platform as a filmmaker and documentarian to advance those causes. I could very much see her getting involved with movements like Black Lives Matter and organizations like the Sunrise Movement, and taking part in protests, marches, and sit-ins. When the 2020 Democratic primaries come around, I could see her possibly switching from Sanders to Warren for a while (and Dan would definitely argue with her about it if she did), but I can also see her switching back to Sanders after Warren amended her support for single-payer, “Medicare for All”. She’d definitely vote for Clinton and Biden in the generals, but not enthusiastically.

Nate Archibald: For someone whose family business is politics and who, in 2017, is apparently a candidate in the New York City mayoral election, Nate seems to be rather removed from politics. As Vanessa puts it in 02x19, “The only thing Nate’s ever voted for is American Idol.” Still, as Editor-in-Chief of The Spectator, Nate kind of has to have an opinion, and in that respect, I see him gravitating towards the type of center-left “establishment” candidates that he and his family would no doubt have close ties with. In the Gossip Girl universe, the Vanderbilts are portrayed as being a lot like the Kennedys, and I think Nate’s policies as a mayoral candidate would really reflect that. In 2016, he would vote for Hillary Clinton in both the primaries and the generals without much of a second thought - after all, she’s the obvious choice, and there’s no way a candidate like Donald Trump could actually beat her, right? Actually, optimistically, maybe that’s why Nate decides to jump into the mayoral race in 2017 - previously, he had been for all intents and purposes politically apathetic, but seeing someone as genuinely vile as Donald Trump ascend to the office of the presidency stirs him out of that apathy, and he wants to make a positive difference in the only way an incredibly privileged white man from a politically prominent family knows how. So he runs as a Kennedy-esque center left candidate, further left of someone like Hillary Clinton, but more moderate than someone like Elizabeth Warren - sort of like Kamala Harris, now that I think about it. I have no idea if he would actually be able to beat Bill de Blasio given the major incumbency advantage de Blasio would have, but who knows. Come the 2020 Democratic primaries, I think Nate would probably just vote for whoever he believed was most likely to beat Donald Trump. I don’t see him having any sort of clear preference - maybe he would gravitate towards Biden on the basis of him being the most established candidate, or maybe he would gravitate towards Harris on the basis of her campaigning as the “moderate progressive” candidate. I could also seeing him liking Andrew Yang, come to think of it. In any case, he would most definitely support Joe Biden in the generals. How involved he’d be in supporting him really depends on whether or not Nate actually gets elected to mayor - if he was the mayor, he’d definitely endorse him and probably donate to him, but I think he’d be too wrapped up in his own political responsibilities to really do much more than that. If, however, he lost the election and was still the Editor-in-Chief of The Spectator, I can see Nate getting more involved alongside the rest of his family, officially endorsing him in The Spectator, hosting political fundraisers for him, and maybe even campaigning for him. The Vanderbilts in the Gossip Girl universe (I have no idea what the family’s actual political beliefs are in real life) definitely seem to me like they’d be Biden supporters, and I imagine they’d use their political clout to try and get Biden in, and more importantly, Trump out.

Serena van der Woodsen: Oh Serena. Look, she knows it’s important, okay? It’s just, she’s been really busy lately, and she doesn’t really like to think about politics, and hey, remember that fundraiser she did with her mom for last month’s philanthropic cause du jour? Serena’s a Democrat, vaguely, but if you tried to really pin her down on her political beliefs she’d probably just change the topic. So who does she vote for in 2016? The truth is, she doesn’t. Not in the primaries, not in the general, not at all. She meant to, okay, Blair’s definitely been pestering her to send in her mail-in-ballot for weeks, but she just got distracted and forgot. Serena really strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t enjoy thinking or talking about politics, save for perhaps a few specific issues, and she has a sense that everything will work itself out eventually and she doesn’t really need to participate. And then the 2016 election happens, and holy shit, she didn’t vote. Blair and Dan might have spent early 2016 bickering with each other over Clinton versus Sanders, but the one thing they can definitely agree on is “What the fuck, Serena?!?!” They both reminded her like, a million times, how could she possibly forget?! Serena feels really bad about it - she didn’t think it was such a big deal, she didn’t think Donald Trump could actually win! - and so she starts overcompensating whenever the topic of politics comes up, maybe even joins Vanessa at a few protests and marches, even though she’s still sort of clueless about the actual issues at hand. She does vote in the 2018 midterms, although only in the general election - straight blue ticket, all the way down. She takes a picture of herself at the voting booth wearing an “I Voted!” sticker and posts it on Instagram, tagging both Dan and Blair in the post (who already voted weeks ago using mail-in ballots, but it’s the thought that counts). Flash forward to 2020, and she really needs to make a decision about who to vote for in the primaries… but there’s just so many choices. Everything seems so scary and stressful and real in a way now that it didn’t back in 2016, and she can’t just ignore it and assume things will work out for the best like she did back then. So who does she vote for? Well, Serena always wins, so she votes for Biden. Conspiratorially, both Dan and Blair privately wonder if her voting for Biden isn’t on some cosmic level the reason for his unexpected victory, even if they know there’s no logical way that’s possible, right? But it would be such a Serena thing to do… In any case, Serena’s just happy her candidate won, and would probably host political fundraisers for him with her mom’s circle of philanthropic friends. Assuming she and Dan are still married at this point, she offers to help him do political outreach to Sanders supporters to get them to vote for Biden, which he sweetly dissuades her from given that most Sanders supporters would probably dislike her on principle.

So that’s how, in my opinion, the main cast would vote, ordered roughly in how confident I am about that analysis. You could make the argument that perhaps some characters would vote or act differently based on whether or not they’re dating or married at the time - like, would Chuck openly fundraise for Trump when Blair is a dyed-in-the-wool Clinton supporter if they’re married? (He totally would.) But I tried to consider them purely on the merits of their personalities and values, and not on the particularities of their situations at the time (with the exception of Nate, just because him being in office or not would obviously make a huge difference in regards to how politically involved he’s going to be).

I wish I put as much effort into my actual university essays as I did on Gossip Girl political analysis.

#meta #gossip girl #anon you're literally a legend #i cannot believe you submitted this to my little blog when you could've like......#sent it in to vox or something #it's just SO good?#also honestly 'i wish i put as much effort into uni as i did into gg meta' is like #THE BRAND on my blog so #*raises a glass* cheers!#i don't even have words i just think you're objectively correct about ALL of this #gg politics #submission #i am LITERALLY flattered to receive this gem thank you so much?#no no flattered is the wrong word: honoured is better #but i really appreciate it is all

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kuramirocket · 3 years ago

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Whenever I visit Olvera Street, as I did a couple of weeks ago, my walk through the historic corridor is always the same.

Start at the plaza. Pass the stand where out-of-towners and politicians have donned sombreros and serapes for photos ever since the city turned this area into a tourist trap in 1930.

Look at the vendor stalls. Wonder if I need a new guayabera. Gobble up two beef taquitos bathed in avocado salsa at Cielito Lindo. Then return to my car and go home.

I’ve done this walk as a kid, and as an adult. For food crawls and quick lunches. With grad students on field trips, and with the late Anthony Bourdain for an episode of his “Parts Unknown.”

This last visit was different, though: I had my own camera crew with me.

My last chance at Hollywood fame was going to live or die on Olvera Street.

I was shooting a sizzle reel — footage that a producer will turn into a clip for television executives to determine whether I’m worthy of a show. In this case, I want to turn my 2012 book “Taco USA: How Mexican Food Conquered America” into the next “Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives.” Or “Somebody Feed Phil.” Or an Alton Brown ripoff. Or a TikTok series.

Anything at this point, really.

For more than a decade, I’ve tried to break into Hollywood with some success — but the experience has left me cynical. Personal experience and the historical record have taught me that studios and streamers still want Mexicans to stay in the same cinematic lane that American film has paved for more than a century. We’re forever labeled… something. Exotic. Dangerous. Weighed down with problems. Never fully developed, autonomous humans. Always “Mexican.”

Even if we’re natives of Southern California. Especially if we’re natives of Southern California.

I hope my sizzle reel will lead to something different. I doubt it will because the issue is systemic. Industry executives, producers, directors and scriptwriters can only portray the Mexicans they know — and in a perverse, self-fulfilling prophecy, they mostly only know the Mexicans their industry depicts even in a region where Latinos make up nearly half the population.

The vicious cycle even infects creators like me.

As the film crew and I left for our next location, I stopped and looked around. We were right where I began, except I now looked south on Main Street. The plaza was to my left. City Hall loomed on the horizon. The vista was the same as the opening scene of “Bordertown,” a 1935 Warner Bros. film I had seen the night before. It was the first Hollywood movie to address modern-day Mexican Americans in Los Angeles.

What I saw was more than déjà vu. It was a reminder that 86 years later, Hollywood’s Mexican problem hasn’t really progressed at all.

Birth of a stereotype

Screen misrepresentation of Mexicans isn’t just a longstanding wrong; it’s an original sin. And it has an unsurprising Adam: D.W. Griffith.

He’s most infamous for reawakening the Ku Klux Klan with his 1915 epic “The Birth of a Nation.” Far less examined is how Griffith’s earliest works also helped give American filmmakers a language with which to typecast Mexicans.

Two of his first six films were so-called “greaser” movies, one-reelers where Mexican Americans were racialized as inherently criminal and played by white people. His 1908 effort “The Greaser’s Gauntlet” is the earliest film to use the slur in its title. Griffith filmed at least eight greaser movies on the East Coast before heading to Southern California in early 1910 for better weather.

The new setting allowed Griffith to double down on his Mexican obsession. He used the San Gabriel and San Juan Capistrano missions as backdrops for melodramas embossed with the Spanish Fantasy Heritage, the white California myth that romanticized the state’s Mexican past even as it discriminated against the Mexicans of the present.

In films such as his 1910 shorts “The Thread of Destiny,” “In Old California” (the first movie shot in what would become Hollywood) and “The Two Brothers,” Griffith codified cinematic Mexican characters and themes that persist. The reprobate father. The saintly mother. The wayward son. The idea that Mexicans are forever doomed because they’re, well, Mexicans.

Griffith based his plots not on how modern-day Mexicans actually lived, but rather on how white people thought they did.

A riot nearly broke out as Latinos felt the scene mocked them. It was perhaps the earliest Latino protest against negative depictions of them on the big screen.

But the threat of angry Mexicans didn’t kill greaser movies. Griffith showed the box-office potential of the genre, and many American cinematic pioneers dabbled in them. Thomas Edison’s company shot some, as did its biggest rival, Vitagraph Studios. So did Mutual Film, an early home for Charlie Chaplin. Horror legend Lon Chaney played a greaser. The first western star, Broncho Billy Anderson, made a career out of besting them.

These films were so noxious that the Mexican government in 1922 banned studios that produced them from the country until they “retired... denigrating films from worldwide circulation,” according to a letter that Mexican President Álvaro Obregón wrote to his Secretariat of External Relations. The gambit worked: the greaser films ended. Screenwriters instead reimagined Mexicans as Latin lovers, Mexican spitfires, buffoons, peons, mere bandits and other negative stereotypes.

That’s why “Bordertown” surprised me when I finally saw it. The Warner Bros. movie, starring Paul Muni as an Eastside lawyer named Johnny Ramirez and Bette Davis as the temptress whom he spurns, was popular when released. Today, it’s almost impossible to see outside of a hard-to-find DVD and an occasional Muni marathon on Turner Classic Movies.

Based on a novel of the same name; Muni was a non-Mexican playing a Mexican. Johnny Ramirez had a fiery temper, a bad accent and repeatedly called his mother (played by Spanish actress Soledad Jiminez ) “mamacita,” who in turn calls him “Juanito.” The infamous, incredulous ending has Ramirez suddenly realizing the vacuity of his fast, fun life and returning to the Eastside “back where I belong ... with my own people.” And the film’s poster features a bug-eyed, sombrero-wearing Muni pawing a fetching Davis, even though Ramirez never made a move on Davis’ character or wore a sombrero.

These and other faux pas (like Ramirez’s friends singing “La Cucaracha” at a party) distract from a movie that didn’t try to mask the discrimination Mexicans faced in 1930s Los Angeles. Ramirez can’t find justice for his neighbor, who lost his produce truck after a drunk socialite on her way back from dinner at Las Golondrinas on Olvera Street smashed into it. That very socialite, whom Ramirez goes on to date (don’t ask), repeatedly calls him “Savage” as a term of endearment. When Ramirez tires of American bigotry and announces he’s moving south of the border to run a casino, a priest in brownface asks him to remain.

“For what?” Ramirez replies. “So those white little mugs who call themselves gentlemen and aristocrats can make a fool out of me?”

“Bordertown” sprung up from Warner Bros.’ Depression-era roster of social-problem films that served as a rough-edged alternative to the escapism offered by MGM, Disney and Paramount. But its makers committed the same error Griffith did: They fell back on tropes instead of talking to Mexicans right in front of them who might offer a better tale.

Just take the first shot of “Bordertown,” the one I inadvertently recreated on my television shoot.

Under a title that reads “Los Angeles … the Mexican Quarter,” viewers see Olvera Street’s plaza emptier than it should be. That’s because just four years earlier, immigration officials rounded up hundreds of individuals at that very spot. The move was part of a repatriation effort by the American government that saw them boot about a million Mexicans — citizens and not — from the United States during the 1930s.

Following that opening shot is a brief glimpse of a theater marquee that advertises a Mexican music trio called Los Madrugadores (“The Early Risers”). They were the most popular Spanish-language group in Southern California at the time, singing traditional corridos but also ballads about the struggles Mexicans faced in the United States. Lead singer Pedro J. González hosted a popular AM radio morning show heard as far away as Texas that mixed music and denunciations against racism.

By the time “Bordertown” was released in 1935, Gonzalez was in San Quentin, jailed by a false accusation of statutory rape pursued by an L.A. district attorney’s office happy to lock up a critic. He was freed in 1940 after the alleged victim recanted her confession, then summarily deported to Tijuana, where Gonzalez continued his career before returning to California in the 1970s.

Doesn’t Gonzalez and his times make a better movie than “Bordertown”? Warner Bros. could have offered a bold corrective to the image of Mexican Americans if they had just paid attention to their own footage! Instead, Gonzalez’s saga wouldn’t be told on film until a 1984 documentary and 1988 drama.

Both were shot in San Diego. Both received only limited screenings at theaters across the American Southwest and an airing on PBS before going on video. No streamer carries it.

How Hollywood imagines Mexicans versus how we really are turned real for me in 2013, when I became a consulting producer for a Fox cartoon about life on the U.S.-Mexico border.

The title? “Bordertown.”

It aired in 2015 and lasted one season. I enjoyed the end product. I even got to write an episode, which just so happened to be the series finale.

The gig was a dream long deferred. My bachelor’s degree from Chapman University was in film. I had visions of becoming the brown Tarantino or a Mexican Truffaut before journalism got in the way. Over the years, there was Hollywood interest in articles or columns I wrote but never anything that required I do more than a couple of meetings — or scripts by white screenwriters that went nowhere.

But “Bordertown” opened up more doors for me and inspired me to give Hollywood a go.

While I worked on the cartoon, I got another consulting producer credit on a Fusion special for comedian Al Madrigal and sold a script to ABC that same year about gentrification in Boyle Heights through the eyes of a restaurant years before the subject became a trend. Pitch meetings piled up with so much frequency that my childhood friends coined a nickname for me: Hollywood Gus.

My run wouldn’t last long. The microagressions became too annoying.

The veteran writers on “Bordertown” rolled their eyes any time I said that one of their jokes was clichéd, like the one about how eating beans gave our characters flatulent superpowers or the one about a donkey show in Tijuana. Or when they initially rejected a joke about menudo, saying no one knew what the soup was, and they weren’t happy when another Latino writer and I pointed out that you’re pretty clueless if you’ve lived in Southern California for a while and don’t know what menudo is.

The writers were so petty, in fact, that they snuck a line into the animated “Bordertown” where the main character said, “There’s nothing worse than a Mexican with glasses” — which is now my public email to forever remind me of how clueless Hollywood is.

The insults didn’t bother me so much as the insight I gained from those interactions: The only Latinos most Hollywood types know are the janitors and security guards at the studio, and nannies and gardeners at their homes. The few Latinos in the industry I met had assimilated into this worldview as well.

Could I blame them for their ignorance when it came to capturing Mexican American stories, especially those in Southern California? Of course I can.

What ended any aspirations for a full-time Hollywood career was a meeting with a television executive shortly after ABC passed on my Boyle Heights script (characters weren’t believable, per the rejection). They repeatedly asked that I think about doing a show about my father’s life, which didn’t interest me. Comedies about immigrant parents are clichéd at this point. So one day I blurted that I was more interested in telling my stories.

I never heard from the executive again.

A pair of boots

Five years later, and that Hollywood dream just won’t leave me.

I’m not leaving journalism. But at this point, I just want to prove to myself that I can help exorcise D.W. Griffith’s anti-Mexican demons from Hollywood once and for all. That I can show the Netflix honcho they were wrong for passing on a “Taco USA” series with the excuse that the topic of Mexican food in the United States was too “limited.” And the Food Network people who said they just couldn’t see a show about the subject as being as “fun” as it was. Or the bigtime Latino actor’s production company who wanted the rights to my "¡Ask a Mexican!” book, then ghosted me after I said I didn’t hold them but I did own the rights to my brain.

When this food-show sizzle reel gets cut, and I start my Hollywood jarabe anew, I’ll keep in mind a line in “Bordertown” that Johnny Ramirez said: “An American man can lift himself up by his bootstraps. All he needs is strength and a pair of boots.”

Mexicans have had the strength since forever in this town. But can Hollywood finally give us the botas?

#mexican #mexican american #chicano #chicana #usa #united states #racism #discrimination #hollywood #movies #history #california #stereotypes #latinos #latinas #ku klux klan #mexico #🇲🇽

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absolute-immunities · 5 years ago

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Here’s a character rarely mentioned in the contemporary political debate. He (he’s usually a man) lives in a suburb or small town. He wasn’t born with a silver spoon, and he worked his way up, which wasn’t always fun. Now he owns his home and earns above-average income. He is scathing of big-city elites with posh accents who got easy lives handed to them. In short, he’s a middle-class anti-elitist.

You find him across the western world: in New Jersey and Long Island, around the English south-east, the Milan agglomeration and in the quiet suburbs of Rotterdam. The comfortably off populist voter is the main force behind Trump, Brexit and Italy’s Lega. Yet he’s largely ignored, while the conversation about populism revolves around an entirely different figure: the impoverished former factory worker.

Pundits are forever explaining why poor Sunderland voted for Brexit, but rarely why wealthy Bournemouth did. In most developed countries, populism is less a working-class revolt than a middle-class civil war. So why do well-off people vote against the system?

The stats reveal the middle-classness of populism. About two-thirds of Trump voters in 2016 had household incomes above $50,000 (then about the US average), according to the American National Election Study. Most British Leave voters lived in the south of England, and 59 per cent were middle class (social classes A, B or C1), writes Danny Dorling, geographer at Oxford University. In the Netherlands, two-thirds of supporters of far-right Thierry Baudet are moderately or highly educated, say pollsters Ipsos.

Imagine one of these voters, a small business-owner or accountant in Britain, not in London, earning £60,000 a year. (Much of what follows also applies to his small-town equivalents elsewhere.) He isn’t keen on positive discrimination for women or people of colour, or on high taxes. In fact, he doesn’t want anyone to get “handouts”. In a NatCen Social Research study of the Brexit referendum, “affluent Eurosceptics” were the segment of the electorate least likely to have financial troubles (marginally less so than “middle-class liberals”), and most likely to be anti-welfare.

This man’s advance has been slow. He has never been invited into the fast lane of life: the top universities, the biggest firms, the major corporations. He feels, with some justification, that his exclusion has been unfair — based on his accent, schooling, clothes and unfamiliarity with trendy conversational topics. He realised years ago that so-called meritocracy is a fraud.

Big-city professors, journalists and civil servants with fancy degrees — people who strongly resemble politicians such as Hillary Clinton, Elizabeth Warren and Ed Miliband — seem to him manifestly full of shit. Dominic Cummings, Boris Johnson’s right-hand man, captured this sentiment when he evoked “Oxbridge English graduates who chat about Lacan at dinner parties with TV producers . . . ” (though Cummings is himself an Oxbridge humanities graduate).

Yet whenever our man has got anywhere near these frauds, they have snubbed him. The British Conservative grandee Ken Clarke’s dismissal in 2014 of Ukip voters as “elderly male people who’ve had disappointing lives” was typical.

Over the decades, this man has incurred uncountable psychic slights from big-city types. In her book How To Lose A Country, the Turkish writer Ece Temelkuran recalls an Anatolian businessman asking: “Do you really need a membership card to get into a disco in Istanbul?” He’d been turned away from one, she explains, “supposedly because of the card issue”. She breaks it to him that there are no cards.

Eventually, this man’s snubbed caste brought the populist Recep Tayyip Erdogan to power. “That same businessman,” Temelkuran writes, “bought the disco to which he had been refused entry and turned it into a ‘family restaurant’, which in Turkey means a conservative no-alcohol establishment.”

Poland’s ruling Law and Justice party, too, has replaced big-city journalists, civil servants, judges, diplomats and the heads of state companies with the party’s own people. The Trump administration is doing something similar. This revenge is much of the point of populism. On January 31, many Brexiters spent their ultimate moment of triumph attacking elitist traitors instead of celebrating.

Even now, most journalists and academics still overlook the provincial middle class. The socialist-realist figure of the laid-off factory worker remains more compelling. Anand Menon and Matt Bevington of the UK in a Changing Europe, a research group now starting a project on “comfortable Leavers”, note that the general political focus on “left-behind” or “hard-to-reach” people has influenced academic research.

Populist politicians themselves seldom mention their most loyal supporting class. Trump boasts of a “blue-collar boom”, while Johnson is focusing on a smaller fraction of Leave voters, the northern working classes. In Britain, says Bevington: “The people who were ignored [the northern working class] are now not ignored, and the people who were not ignored [the southern middle class] are now ignored.”

The provincial middle classes can console themselves with one thought: they made the revolution.

@vulturaldeterminants

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fictionfromafar · 4 years ago

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The Khan by Saima Mir

The Khan

Saima Mir

Point Blank

Released 1st April 2021

#RandomTTours

The Khan has been one of 2021’s most highly awaited British crime novel debuts. Although this is Mir’s first novel, she has written The Times, Guardian and Independence and her essay on It’s Not About The Burqua (Picador) appeared in Guardian Weekend and received over 250,000 hits online in 2 days.

Regular followers of my reviews will note that I rarely review or post about British crime novels. Although I admire many of our homegrown writers, in this period of sustained lockdown and with Britain distancing itself politically from its nearest neighbours, I have felt keener to learn about different cultures. The reasons I wanted to read The Khan is as had an intriguing story line and appeared to credibly focus upon a British subculture that I am keen to learn more about.

The scene is set from the attention grabbing prologue with the description of an area of a north English city (Bradford although unnamed) in urban decay which is evidently a daunting place for a woman to walk at night dressed in a burqa.

The name Khan has been used everywhere from Turkey to Mongolia to signify a ruler of people. Soon we learn there is no exception for Akbar Khan. He is the leader of the city’s biggest organized crime ring, known as The Jirga leading the Pashtun community. Among their activities are drug cartels, money laundering and prostitution rings. While the male members of his family are actively involved in these activities and the women are complicit, one member of his family had turned back on them all.

Jia Khan is a successful solicitor based in London who single-mindedly left the family home some 15 years earlier. As we meet her she has reluctantly she agrees to return to her home city to join a celebration for the marriage of her younger sister. While detached from her father’s organization, she is aware that another organised crime gang called the Brotherhood is trying to muscle into the city. They are led by the sinister Andrzej Nowak whom Jia has already met. Surprisingly to him, she had not been intimidated by his presence. Local businesses supportive to The Jirga soon come under pressure to pay protection money and some are burned down when they refuse to comply with the new gang.

Shortly after the wedding, Akbar Khan is lured from his house alone. He is found murdered. His family and The Jirga swear revenge on Nowak’s gang. To prevent chaos from enduring Jia as the eldest child of Akbar resolves to lead the crime ring, to modernise it and regain their supremacy over the city.

In a story high on atmosphere we learn so much about the background to the family and indeed to many other South Asian families that have migrated to this area of Britain in the post war years. The Khan delves into key issues that they have faced in terms of the extent of social and economic integration achieved, the prejudices they have encountered in looking to join the workplace, in the justice system and from the authorities. The plot also allows for a social history of a town like Bradford from its boom period to economic decline. These are really key issues that are examined in detail very effectively. There is also some reflection on the Muslim faith and how The Qur’an honours, guards and protects women yet this could perhaps have been developed a little further for the readers' enlightenment.

As Jia begins to mingle more with the people who looked up to her father and wish to pay their respects, she begins to realise the good that he did do for his community. This includes enabling others from poverty stricken areas of Pakistan and Afghanistan to support themselves within their communities or establish themselves in the UK. Along the way we appreciate how Jia’s life changed with the tragic death of her brother Zen in a car accident. This is a key episode that led her to turn her back on her family. As she replaces the older statesmen of her father’s organization, she has to clear their doubts about her leadership firstly due to her gender and also her lack of experience. Eventually she hatches a plan to entrap Nowak and his gang. The action builds up considerably in the third part of the novel which some exciting action scenes fraught with emotion.

While Jia is a powerful and intelligent character, it is fair to say that she is not a particularly likeable. The role of sympathetic protagonist is filled by her estranged husband Elyas. They met young and had a love marriage but it did not last. Elyas has raised their son in Jia’s absence while working as a journalist. Hopefully a follow up to The Khan, would allow for exploration of a more tender portrayal of Jia. Although of little importance to the overall plot I did feel there was a slightly clichéd characterisation of East European villains. This is sadly a regular theme within British crime fiction. I believe this novel could have been even more effective if the rivals had been given a bit of greater depth. Had they been a different subcultures of South Asians for example, Mir could undoubtedly have written about them with greater conviction. I can also see why the author might have wished to avoid an Inter-Asian conflict. These though are my very minor quibbles and there is perhaps scope for development in these areas in subsequent novels.

In my opinion the role of a crime fiction novel is not simply to excite the reader but also to provide some reflection of the issues in the society it represents. The Khan fully succeeds on both levels. This is a compelling and memorable story that truly shows a different side to British crime and indeed to British society than many other books in the same genre. The concept, themes raised and storylines in the Khan will live long with me. More than that, this should open new avenues to emerging writers. British crime fiction is at its best when it breaks new boundaries in such a credible manner. If you read just one new British crime author this year, it should be Saima Mir.

Please check out these other reviews of The Khan:

Many thanks to Anne Cater of Random Things Tours and Point Blank for a copy of The Khan in return for an honest review.

#crime fiction

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zine-scene · 5 years ago

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Bluestockings Comics Fest 2020 at Kickstarter HQA Free Event Celebrating and Showcasing Comics by Queer and Trans Creators this July 18, 2020

BROOKLYN, N.Y., Jan. 23 — Kickstarter PBC is excited to host the 2020 Bluestockings Comics Fest at their Greenpoint, Brooklyn headquarters on Saturday, July 18. Free and open to the public from 11AM to 6PM, this event is designed to celebrate and showcase comics by queer and trans creators. The fest will include panels and professional development workshops, as well as a wide range of exhibitors. Unlike other comics events and conferences, Kickstarter and Bluestockings Comics will not be charging a table fee, ensuring creators will have the opportunity to maximize their earnings.

“Too often, the arts are a pay to play game,” said Camilla Zhang, Comics Outreach Lead at Kickstarter. “Making a living as an artist is hard enough, and when you’re exhibiting at a convention or festival, you have to hustle to make enough sales to break even on table fees, along with food, lodging, and travel costs. That’s why we decided to cover all the table fees—in total $2,000 to Bluestockings— as well as providing lunch for vendors and staff, and offering stipends to workshop leaders.”

Bluestockings is a volunteer-powered, collectively-owned radical bookstore and activist center in New York City. Kickstarter is proud to align with Bluestockings’ mission of providing literature and resources about oppression, intersectionality, community organizing, and activism, and sharing the stories of marginalized people.

... With space for up to 40 exhibitors at this time, the festival is primarily looking to showcase queer and trans people of color, gender non-conforming folx, immigrants, low-income creators, disabled folx, intersex folx, Middle Eastern + Arab + North African creators, East + South Asian creators, indigenous creators, and marginalized creators as a whole who are excluded for one reason or another from popular narratives.

Creators can apply here. Folks who are unable to attend can still have a chance to sell their books at the Bluestockings table and can use the same application, which closes at Midnight EST on Sunday, February 28. Workshop and panel applications can be found here and will close at Midnight EST on Sunday, March 8. Stipends will be offered to workshop leaders. All applications will go through a curation process overseen by Bluestockings volunteers and Kickstarter representatives, with a focus on black and brown creators and folx working to highlight social justice issues.

Media Contact

Joan Dark, Events Coordinator and Collective Member at Bluestockings, [email protected]

src

#comics #bluestockings #new york #please rb to help creators find this opportunity

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sciencespies · 4 years ago

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These Conservation Stories Prove 2020 Was Not All Bad News

https://sciencespies.com/nature/these-conservation-stories-prove-2020-was-not-all-bad-news/

These Conservation Stories Prove 2020 Was Not All Bad News

SMITHSONIANMAG.COM | Dec. 14, 2020, 10:44 a.m.

Without a doubt 2020 will go down in the history books marred with loss in the face of a global pandemic attributed to zoonotic disease spillover from the illegal wildlife trade and a renewed public skepticism of scientific research and data. But quietly dotted throughout the 366 days of this chaotic leap year were a number of important findings and successes that showed that there are reasons to be optimistic for our planet. From new discoveries to indigenous-led protected areas, this year was not without its conservation wins. Here are just a few of the most unique and impactful conservation stories of 2020.

New Lemur and Langur Species Described

The newly described species Microcebus jonahi, a mouse lemur—the smallest primate genus.

(Dominik Schüßler)

Lemurs are considered one of the most endangered animals, with roughly 98 percent of classified species threatened with extinction. Despite their gloomy outlook, lemurs sparked a little bit of hopeful news this year when scientists officially described a new tiny and adorable species—Jonah’s mouse lemur or Microcebus jonahi, named after the respected Malagasy primatologist Professor Jonah Ratsimbazafy.

Researchers first captured this pocket-sized primate during a survey of northeast Madagascar in 2006. Researcher Marina Blanco explained the process of using lights at night to find the nocturnal creatures. “To study mouse lemurs in the wild, our team patiently searched for “eyeshine” through the thick and dense vegetation of the eastern rainforest at night. Occasionally, we could get a quick glimpse of an elusive lemur jumping out of sight. Determined to find out more about their biology, we briefly captured a few mouse lemurs at Mananara National Park. Even after a closer look, we could not put a name on it!”

Describing a new species that doesn’t look all that different from its relatives is no easy task. Scientists have recently improved the way they use genetic analyses along with morphology and other characteristics of closely related species to help decipher taxonomically-relevant differences. “It took years of sample analysis and teamwork to identify these mouse lemurs as a new scientific species. Mouse lemurs are evolutionary and ecologically amazing,” says Blanco. They are one of the most diverse groups of lemurs, with more than 24 species currently described. They occupy every available forest type and habitat in Madagascar. Morphologically, mouse lemurs display incredible genetic variation, indicative of unique evolutionary trajectories. “Thus, mouse lemurs, as species, are generally “microendemics,” restricted to specific forests and specialized in resources that may not be available anywhere else,” says Blanco.

As a result, the team was able to determine that this particular lemur is a separate species based on its distinct genetic makeup and some outward characteristics such as coloration and ear size.

The Popa Langur (Trachypithecus popa), was also described by scientists this year using a similar method. The research team conducted DNA analyses on collected droppings and used the findings in concert with morphological characteristics such as tail length to support a new taxa. Found only in a small region near Mount Popa in Myanmar, conservationists estimate that only about 200 individuals of this species exist.

World Leaders Sign 30 by 2030 Agreement

This habitat protection helps polar bears and the people who rely on the same ecosystem.

(Jason Hillier)

A new protected area in Northern Quebec was announced this November as a next-step in Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s promise to the United Nations to safeguard 30 percent of Canada’s land and water by 2030 and as part of the Canada Nature Fund’s Target 1 Challenge. The $1.4 million project created the Arqvilliit Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area (IPCA) on the Canadian Arctic archipelago, commonly known as the Ottawa Islands in the Hudson Bay. The Inuktitut name for these islands, Arqvilliit, translates to: “a place where you will see bowhead whales.” This is not just a conservation win for arctic fauna such as whales and polar bears.

The permanent protection of IPCA is also a modest climate gain and a prime example of Indigenous engagement in conservation.

“We are in a way blessed to get this project” says Shaomik Inukpuk, the chairman of the steering committee for IPCA, and the town manager for the nearby Northern Village of Inukjuak in Nunavit. “It’s good for the people, it’s good for the polar bears, it’s good for the environment. It’s good for everybody,” he says.

“Now more than ever, Canadians know the value of nature and wild spaces. Our government is committed to conserving 25 percent of Canada’s land and inland waters and 25 percent of Canada’s oceans by 2025, and the Arqvilliit Indigenous Protected and Conserved Area is helping achieve that goal, as well as fighting climate change and halting biodiversity loss. It’s also an important step towards reconciliation with Nunavik Inuit by conserving the polar bear habitat, a species that is significant to Inuit culture and livelihood,” says Jonathan Wilkinson, the Minister of Environment and Climate Change. IPCA will continue to be managed and assessed by Inuit peoples as outlined in the Canadian government’s Indigenous Guardians program.

Indigenous-Led Protection Advances in the Arctic

Pakistan, home of Deosai National Park, is one of the countries whose leaders signed the pledge to protect 30 percent of land and water.

(Waqas Akhtar)

At the onset of 2020, the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity drafted a framework calling on its international constituents to protect 30 percent of their land and seas by 2030. Many conservation organizations and scientists had proposed this protected area blueprint in previous years. Ahead of September’s United Nations Summit on Biodiversity, 71 world leaders signed the Leaders’ Pledge for Nature—a commitment to adopt the post-2020 global biodiversity framework. Then in October, the Environment Council of the European Union also committed to the target.

The multilateral environmental agreement was met with some skepticism, after all, none of the 2020 Aichi targets agreed upon in 2010 were met. “Every few years, governments gather to make solemn promises about the action they will take to defend the living world, then break them before the ink is dry,” noted the environmental writer George Monbiot. There are also a few considerations, particularly in the area of human rights violations, that this “30 by 30” agreement needs to reconcile. The hope is that the Covid-19 pandemic and its origins in biodiversity loss has finally lit a fire under these leaders to actually follow through on this most recent critical promise for protecting the planet.

Conservation Diversity Goes Viral

One of the Black Birders Week co-founders, Chelsea Connor, uses social media to showcase the valuable work that BIPOC contribute to conservation and encourage others to join STEM fields.

(Chelsea Connor)

The global pandemic and subsequent lockdowns forced many events and campaigns to migrate to digital platforms. One virtual event stood out most of all due to its thoughtful timing and ongoing impact. Amid racial justice movements calling for action following the death of George Floyd and many subsequent atrocities, black and BIPOC conservationists found an opportunity to highlight equality and equity issues in their field while inspiring others.

From their collaborative efforts, the inaugural Black Birders Week took flight on social media. One of the co-founders, Sheriden Alford, explained the idea to Smithsonian’s Earth Optimism: “After the incident involving Christian Cooper surfaced on the internet, a lot of the members in the group [BlackAFinSTEM] identified with the pressures of being black and carrying out our field tasks in a world that marginalizes minorities. We wanted to create a positive initiative…” And they succeeded. The reaction to Black Birders Week was so overwhelmingly positive that it launched additional spotlights on scientists of color across disciplines, including mammalogy, botany, and herpetology.

After the campaign, National Wildlife Federation announced, “#BecauseOfBlackBirdersWeek, the National Wildlife Federation is expanding its Conservation Fellowship & Intern Programs to create opportunities dedicated specifically for young biologists of color (students & recent grads) to help more #BlackBirders launch careers in conservation.”

Black Birders Week sparked many of these long-overdue conversations about the shortcomings of diversity initiatives and how we can all do our part to truly manifest a more equitable future for conservation.

Tasmanian Devils Make a Mainland Comeback

For nearly a decade, the Australian organization Aussie Ark has been working to save the iconic Tasmanian Devil from extinction.

(Aussie Ark)

Tasmanian Devils were eradicated from the Australian mainland some 400 to 3,000 years ago, depending on which paleontologist or natural historian you ask. But this year, the carnivorous marsupial with its devilish scream made a small comeback in the state of New South Wales on the country’s east coast.

For nearly a decade, the Australian organization Aussie Ark has been working to save this iconic creature from extinction. The species suffers rapid population declines in the face of habitat loss and a transmissible type of cancer known as Devil Facial Tumor Disease. Despite new findings that suggest evolution might help the species overcome this disease in the long run, the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species lists Tasmanian Devils as endangered and decreasing. This status hasn’t discouraged Aussie Ark’s efforts to breed in captivity and reintroduce the species. The goal is to reverse the species’ decline permanently. “In 100 years, we are going to be looking back at this day as the day that set in motion the ecological restoration of an entire country,” says Tim Faulkner, President of Aussie Ark.

The first trial release earlier this year reintroduced 15 captive-bred Tasmanian Devils. This September, eleven additional Devils received a red carpet-level release with a little help from the award-winning Australian actor Chris Hemsworth and his wife, Elsa Pataky.

Faulkner adds: “Not only is this the reintroduction of one of Australia’s beloved animals, but of an animal that will engineer the entire environment around it, restoring and rebalancing our forest ecology after centuries of devastation from introduced foxes and cats and other invasive predators. Because of this reintroduction and all of the hard work leading up to it, someday we will see Tasmanian devils living throughout the great eastern forests as they did 3,000 years ago.” More releases are planned to ensure the species’ chances of success.

youtube

Honorable Mentions

Here are a few honorable mentions to read more about when you need a healthy dose of optimism in your day.

Scientists rediscovered a chameleon in Madagascar that was last seen 100 years ago.

The swift fox was reintroduced to Northern Montana’s Fort Belknap Reservation.

The Great American Outdoors Act was signed by the president and enacted into law.

A critically endangered smoky mouse that feared lost during bushfires was found alive in a New South Wales national park.

China’s Wildlife Trade Ban was expanded to the consumption of wild animals due to the ongoing Covid-19 crisis

A wild population of New Guinea’s singing dogs, believed to be extinct, were found.

Colorado voted to reintroduce wolves into the Southern Rocky Mountains.

#Nature

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spursjinglejanglejingle · 5 years ago

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All This and Heaven Too || Part 1

Summary: You are a proper English Lady of high social standing just trying to keep your twin brother alive as he tries to put a stop to raids against the oil supply lines belonging to your family. When a simple trip into Valentine turns bloody, a man in a dark hat steps in to save your lives.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan (High Honor) x Female Reader (Miss Wilson used as a placeholder name) || Male OC x ???

Word Count: Roughly 6k, 11 pages

Tags: Unlikely Pair, Super Slow Burn, English Lady is kind of a bad ass, Enemies to Friends, Friends to Lovers. TW: Animal Death, gore, violence

A/N: I plan on updating this more after the holidays, but I’m constantly working on it. Feel free to suggest what you would like to see! I’m also down for prompts or things like that! Thanks for reading!

America seemed to insist on moving at a slow crawl at all given times - it was a fact that displeased you immensely. The sand and the heat seemed to drag even time itself to a sluggish pace that would make even the Devil himself want to scream. Everything seemed to move at the same indolent speed - the bugs, the horses, even the wind fell prey to the leisurely, cumbersome drawl that the heat draped about the air.

Very much unlike the vibrant and bustling life of the London streets you were accustomed to.

Still, James seemed determined to keep himself...busy. Your brother - a twin in appearance only - seemed to be the fastest moving object in a 10-kilometer radius. Without having to look up from your needle and thread, you could feel the frustration radiating from him, if the incessant scratching of pen against paper was any tell. It was hard to focus on your cross-stitching when you could hear each and every exasperated sigh that escaped his chest as he toiled away over his paperwork. The trip into Valentine from your temporary residence - your Father’s old hunting lodge in the middle of the woods - was a long one and it didn’t take him more than a moment in the carriage before popping open his briefcase and setting to work.

You finally dared to pull away from your tiny woodland creatures, pausing in the middle of a stitch to glance up at James; the sight of him just about destroyed you. Anyone could tell by the crease in his brow and the squint in his eye how entirely miffed he was becoming. It didn’t take someone who knew him well to see how strained his patience had become over the past three months.

He had every right to be upset, you supposed - nothing had been going right since Father had sent him over here. More caravans were hit last month than ever before and each town's local law seemed to be utterly worthless when it came to capturing the guilty. Each day, he would implore for justice to be served, but even that task seemed slowed by the overbearing heat.

It was a monumental endeavor, that was for certain, and one you weren’t entirely sure he was up for. James was a kind, well-meaning man, and never meant any harm to anyone. He would be eaten alive out here, and both you and Father knew it. Father had hoped that it would harden James, stiffen his spine and let him be more confident - both in himself and the legacy he was soon to inherit. The oil portion of the Wilson dynasty would fall to him when your father, Obadiah Wilson, passed - and James was never one to be shown up by your two older brothers, Julian and Peter. Hundreds of years of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears defined the men of the Wilson family.

But James was never what one would call "business savvy" - quite the opposite, in fact. Julian always fondly referred to the youngest male of the family as "the black sheep served rare with a rum sauce" once and you had to admit: it was rather spot on. James was better suited for charming those around him, to drinking and singing and being merry. He liked people, terrible drink, gambling and, most of all, being alive. He had disclosed to you that he was terrified that he would be killed over some sort of business dispute - though he would never admit it fully to anyone else, least of all to Father. However, most of all, he feared he would fail the endeavor entirely - bankrupt their oil shares and have to sail back to England with his tail between his legs.

But someone had to make this sacrifice. With Father busy with the expansion in Africa and the Middle East, it was up to James to see the development of Oil in America. Revenue was tumbling and news of ransacked deliveries being attacked flooded in a few days before Father booked James passage on the first ship out of London. It was up to the heir to figure out who was hitting the trade routes your father had established and put a stop to it. Someone had to travel across the pond and protect the family's investments while also securing even more oil fields to begin earning back the revenue lost from the raids. Someone had to put their neck on the line to show these bloody American outlaws that the Wilson family - your family - was not to be trifled with. And as the heir and future owner of the Wilson & Sons Oil Company, it had to be James.

But James didn't have the stones for all this.

You were here to keep an eye on the ever-deteriorating mental state of your brother - much to his relief. Though you were doing less gallivanting than you had originally expected - in fact, it was more like crawling along and waiting for something to happen. But you would endure, for James’s sake.

The scratching stopped as James lifted his head, catching you as you stared at him. You maintained your gaze, refusing to break first. It was painful to see the bags under his eyes, the wrinkles that were already starting to grace his forehead and the crow’s feet that had begun to dot his temples. You watched as a strained smile crossed his lips, causing the curls of his mustache to tickle his nostrils. Your eyes narrowed and your brow quirked; you refused to break eye contact first and this caused him to falter and his smile to weaken. Unsurprisingly, he relented, eyes falling to his hands before traveling out the window to the expanse of field and dust that had become synonymous with The Heartlands. The ensuing silence sat in that cart for a long time, but the mood finally lightened as he focused instead on something other than paperwork and the ever-looming threat of failure.

“Read this over for me, would you?”

“Of course.” Without hesitation, you abandoned your cross-stitch in the seat beside you as you reached over and took the document from him. With a groan, James sat back and immediately tugged at the black-tie around his neck, returning his attention to the passing scenery.

Even with your quick glance, you could see the wistfulness in your brother’s expression. The fields surrounding Valentine were plain, but they held their own tiny hint of charm. The local fauna lazily glanced your way from the hills above, staring at the carriage as if they knew the two of you didn’t belong on this land. You saw them bound off to safety, and you felt in your heart that James wished to do the same. You both did.

It was hard not to long for home, missing it every second of every day. You longed for the family's estate, it’s imposing presence that teemed with the tell-tale signs of life. The hunting lodge was so...empty without your parents presence and you found yourself pining for them more and more. You missed the tiny facets that seemed so far away now: the sound of women’s laughter as your Mother entertained guests in the drawing-room or passing by the study to hear your Father and brothers discuss business over coffee or brandy. Still, some of the amenities of the Wilson Estate followed you over the Atlantic, allowing you - at least - a little bit of the comforts of home: the soft singing of the housekeeper, Miss Winifred, as she moved about her duties; the quick footsteps of your butler, Mr. Kapoor, who always dazzled you and James stories of his home back in Kheda. You were especially grateful for Monsieur and Madame Giroux, the cooks. They were more like grandparents to you when you were growing up, and had a habit of disobeying the will of your Mother and Father to offer you and your siblings a special treat of toast and preserves when you had been sent to bed without supper.

“C’est notre petit secret, d’accord?”

But your Mother and Father? Them, you missed the most. They loved and doted on your every need - seeing that you got the finest education money could offer. While James lived for the more...extracurricular activities, you soaked up each and every lesson a college education could offer a woman. It was partially the reason you had even decided to make this journey with him. You didn’t leave much room for discussion, packing your bags and leaving behind your luxurious home, a respectable fiance, and the only life you had ever known to go gallivanting against the “Wild, Wild West”, as it were, in the search of even more reliable sources of oil.

Because James was the twin with personality, but you had the brains behind it all.

Still, longing for things didn’t make them come true. With a heavy heart, you turned back to the document and let your mind focus on the words. It was a request to the US Government - James was trying to acquire the rights to drill somewhere further South. This struck you as odd, as the entire plan had been to go out West, expanding further inland through untapped reserves in hopes of establishing oil rights on land that wasn’t yet owned but was being cleared for civilization. It's what he had been doing for most of the month - organizing groups to travel all over the West to test for oil, to scout out new and better opportunities to expand the drilling.

You reached up to rub your temple, brow furrowing as you read further on. “What’s this about heading south?”

“It’s just an idea,” James answered, still focused on the tumbleweeds and dust outside the carriage.

The south was all but claimed. Trying to set up stakes there would be difficult, nay impossible. He would be encroaching and metaphorically butting heads with the Oil Magnates who had been there long before you had even been born. This didn’t make any sense - this wasn’t the plan he and Father had discussed. What even was south? You plucked the map from his side of the carriage and spread it across your lap. If he truly planned to travel further south, he would be heading into and rubbing against the land owned by…

“Leviticus Cornwall.” You didn’t bother hiding your disapproval, eyeing your brother from over the paper. “Have you gone absolutely mad?”

“My dearest sister, whatever do you mean?” James blinked once and pursed his lips together. It had worked in his favor with Mother when you were little, but it hardly put a dent in your glare.

“Would you like me to list all the reasons why going after land owned by Leviticus Cornwall is a terrible idea?”

“Even if I said no, I’m sure you would ignore me and do it anyway.” James rolled his eyes in a dramatic manner. He did it because he knew it annoyed you and he was right. He extended his hand for the document, but you refused to budge. Instead, he turned his attention behind you. “Matthew!”

You glanced over your shoulder, looking out through the tiny window and up into the kind face of the driver, Matthew Blatt. He had become a fast friend when you arrived in America. A former military man, he signed on early as a driver and escort. He was all pink and blotchy from the sun, his tiny wicker hat doing little to block the heat and rays. At the sound of his name, he turned to give your brother a smile and a nod. “Yessir?”

“How far off are we to Valentine, my good man?”

“Not much longer now, I reckon. Horses're makin' good time, givin' the damned heat, 'course.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Give me my letter back.”

He motioned again for the paper, trying to make a grab for it. You leaned back, making sure to press it to your chest to keep it out of reach. “Father said that we were to head further west. Not south. South is already owned and we do not have the standing to try and push for-”

“Yes, yes.” He waved you off, eyeing the letter. You gripped it tighter. “But I have a good feeling about the South. South is where the Oil is. You agree with me, don't you, Matthew?"

The driver let out a huff through the nose, which you had come to recognize as the older man's version of laughing. "Yessir."

"See, dear sister? Matthew agrees with me. Like I said: I have a good feeling."

You were all too familiar with the knot in your stomach and the throb in your head - they were never too far behind when James had a “good feeling”. They were never “good feelings”, as “good” would imply that they worked out in his favor and didn’t backfire on him in the worst ways possible. Which they always seemed to do. You wanted to inform him of this fact - remind him of the good feeling he had when he tried to sneak into a ball for Queen Victoria to see if the cakes were truly as good as he had remembered. Or the good feeling he had when he had fallen madly in love with the favorite daughter of one of Father’s long-time business partners and life -long friends during a summer trip to Paris and had nearly convinced her to elope with him under the Eiffel Tower. Or when he nearly lost your cat eight glasses of whiskey deep in a card game by promising the card shark that the poor creature once belonged to an Arabic prince.

You remembered at that moment that you were still quite bitter that he thought Mr. Albert was only worth ten bloody pounds.

You nearly hissed as you shoved the paper back to him, making sure to crumble it in the process. “South is where your grave will be,” you snapped, snatching your cross stitching up and settling back into your work, intent on ignoring your brother and focusing on the woodland scene in your hands.

Twins in appearance only.

James laughed, a snicker hidden behind a glove. “We shall see. I have already written to Father about our-"

"Your."

"Our change of plans. With luck, he’ll respond by the end of the week and we can-”

“He’ll say no.” You tugged harshly on the thread, tightening it more than you should have and creasing the fabric. The buck’s eyes were now entirely uneven, which only made your mood fouler. “The plan was to go west.”

“They haven’t found anything out there yet. We have had men out there searching for months and they’ve turned up nothing.”

“It’s still too early to tell. This is a big country and it could take months to find anything substantial to start production.”

“I don’t want this to take months!" James whined, sinking lower in his seat. "I want to be out of this godforsaken country. There is nothing here but dirt and regret and I, for one, am entirely bored of it.”

“You think you’re the only one?” Your head snapped up so quickly, it was surprising it didn't break off your neck and slam into poor Mr. Blatt's back. "This country is Hell on Earth and we both have left things back home, James."

“You left on your own volition, my dear sister. Don’t forget: I was there when Baptiste was practically begging you to stay home.”

...Why did he have to bring him up? Why did he have to take that knife and stab it in your chest? The distance was already too much and the letters were doing little to ease the pain of it all. You had resolved early on not to think about your fiance, Baptiste. Even so, when things were quiet at night and you were wondering if all of this running around and throwing yourselves in the middle of a land feud was worth it, you thought of him.

Baptiste was a handsome man from a well off family of vintners in France; their wineries were quickly becoming a household name all over Europe and would no doubt stretch even here - now that Baptiste was taking ownership. He was so kind, so gentle, and so incredibly intelligent. A man that held such a high level of charm and poise, only true gentlemen could ever dream of achieving it. His voice was as smooth as silk and his touch was as light as he made you feel when his fingers met your skin.

And you were absolutely smitten with him.

He always supported you - no matter what silly endeavors you wanted to pursue. Most men would be put off by the sort of role you took with your father and brothers’ companies. But not Baptiste. He found it admirable, even called you powerful once. "It's your strength that makes me swoon," he had said once, under his breath between kisses. "Why would I want to change that?"

But when he had heard you were making the journey to the states, he was all but heartbroken. It was the only time he had asked you if you were sure of something, that he even humored the idea of asking you to reconsider. "Do you have to go?" He asked, watching you flit about the room. "Can't James do this on his own?"

He knew all too well what James was doing was dangerous, and he knew that you would ultimately be pulled in to the middle of it all. You could see the fear in his face, the terror causing his green eyes to turn red.

It was only a few months before you were to be married on his family’s vineyard in Bordeaux - and here you were, in the middle of some nowhere livestock town called Valentine, cross-stitching deer and trees and trying to keep your brother from being shot in the back. But you would never leave James twisting in the wind, and Baptiste knew that. He watched you as you finished packing your final suitcase, waiting for only a moment before taking your hand. He gave you a chaste, soft kiss before whispering, “Write to me? Everyday?”

And you promised him that, with tears in your eyes and his lips against your skin to kiss each drop away.

You glanced up, red eyes already narrowed and your mouth open to argue - when something outside the window cut your voice short: A steadily growing black mass that was soon followed by the sound of a stampede with an underlying chorus of men yelling and hollering. For a moment, you found it hard to speak, hard to process a thought aside from wondering briefly what that ever-growing thing meant. But before your brain could come to terms with anything, the sound of a gunshot immediately drew your voice out in a shrill scream.

James lurched forward and into your lap, letting out a yell as he threw his hand up to cover his left shoulder. You had little choice but to catch him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling both of you down onto the floor. You heard Mr. Blatt let out a shout and the horses cry out in fear. "We got O'Driscolls!!"

In a beat, the once calm scene outside the carriage had become a mess of blacks and green. The whoops and hollers of men quickly surrounded the carriage, creeping in all around, pressing the walls down on you. It was enough to instill the fear of God, overwhelming both emotions and senses. You smelled the gunpowder of the rifles, it burned at your nose and made your eyes water. You were familiar with that acrid scent. But there was something under it - bitter and metallic and...and…

“I...I think I’ve been shot.”

It took a moment for everything to catch up. You knew you what you had smelled - it was enough to punch your stomach down to your feet. But your shaking hands didn’t move to do much of anything. You looked down at James, the quickly growing and irrevocably ugly black shadow on his back pulled your attention straight to it. Your fingers pull back - they were stained red. Blood...blood. Your eyes widened as you looked at Mr. Blatt, “Hurry! We should almost be to-”

Another gunshot. You immediately knew you shouldn’t have moved. You had never seen a man shot, nor had you ever seen a man shot in the head. The image of the ever-kind Mr. Blatt lurching back and slumping to the side of the seat will haunt you until the day you die. The feeling of something wet and...gritty covering your face was all but forgotten as you watched the corpse fall back, chest pointed up towards the sky. Whoever these men were, it became painfully clear that they didn't mean to leave any witnesses.

Okay. Stay calm. You had no means to defend yourself. James was turning pale and Mr. Blatt was dead. You could hear the whoops and hollers as the men drew closer. Just...stay calm. “What do I do?” You frantically looked around the carriage, trying to find something - anything - to defend yourself.

You winced when James called your name. “I...I don’t feel very good.”

“It’s...it’s going to be alright, James. We’ll be alright, just...just stay calm and…”

Your eyes fell on the belt around Mr. Blatt's waist and - as if the Angels themselves were showing you the way - a flash of silver. A gun. The poor dead man's revolver. That...that was it. If you were going to save both your skins you had to move, and quickly. Without a second thought, you grabbed at the black fabric if your skirt. With one good tug, it tore away from the rest of your garment, leaving you with enough to try to stop James from bleeding out. You pressed the fabric to his back and urged his good hand to hold it as best as he could.

Once satisfied he had a good enough grip, you nodded - it would have to do until you could get him to an actual doctor. Now...the belt. You twisted, reaching through the window and around Mr. Blatt's waist. You flinched only once as a bullet ricocheted off the wood and sent splinters flying through the air - but you steel your resolve and make quick work of the buckle.

"What...what are you doing?" James let out a groan, watching with a weakened gaze as you tugged the heavy leather through the tiny window and yanked the revolver from its holster. You opened the chamber, counting six of the seven bullet...holder...things filled.

"How do I fire it?" You asked, closing the wheel and looking it over. You just had to scare them off.

James stared, incredulously. He shook his head, eyes wide and terrified. "No...no! You don't mean to tell me-"

"James Edwards!!" You scream, glaring at him as you shakily hold the gun. "If you do not tell me how to fire this gun this instant, I will shoot you myself - do I make myself clear!?"

He didn't bother to hide the hesitation on his face. "Cock...cock back the lever. Aim for the horses - you won't be able to hit the riders."

You did as instructed, the tremble of your hands making it hard but your thumb found purchase. You just wanted to stop them or scare the horses enough to buck them off. You don't have to kill anyone.

The window to your left was closest. You glanced out, seeing 3 men with green bandanas covering their mouths, riding along the flank of the carriage. One man made eye contact with you and before you had time to rethink your plan, you aimed in the general vicinity of the large beast beneath him. The kickback of the shot was enough to nearly dislocate your shoulder and the pain shot up your arm and settled in your neck. But you could hear the cry of pain from the horse and a shout from a man. No. Not just one man. Two. You looked back out the window, seeing two men and two horses left in the dust as your carriage continued to barrel down the dirt path.

You...you might actually be able to do this; the thought of you being able to survive this all is enough to spur you into another action. You take another breath and turn to James, "What do I do now!?"

“Pull the lever back to load another- AH!”

You ducked down as a bullet passes through the carriage, drawing a swear out of both you and James. He called out your name, reaching for you and the gun - but you grabbed it before his fingers brushed against the grip. “Stay down!” you snarled, pulling back the lever as instructed. You tried to aim, tried to take down the other horse, but the man took a shot at you as well. For a moment, your life flashed before your eyes, and you had just enough forethought to duck back under your makeshift shelter of a bullet-riddled door. “Shit!!”

You had four rounds left - you knew how to do the math. With five men - perhaps more waiting up at the crossroads before Valentine - you were at a sharply growing disadvantage that didn’t seem to be changing its route anytime soon. The thought made the tears prick at your eyes as your mind raced to find a solution. Perhaps if you could just...hold them off for as long as possible? Time your shots to keep them from taking out too much of the carriage before you could be in town proper. The people would scare them off, right? Surely the law would?

...Right?

You glanced at James - and the sight of him nearly froze you in your place. He was curled, gripping his shoulder weakly and taking slow and shallow breaths. His eyes were clenched tightly...and you heard him muttering. “One...two...three...four-” He was counting. That fact alone made you want to reach out and grab his shoulder, assure him everything was going to be okay. “...five...six…s-seven...eight...n...nine...fuck...shit…I don’t...”

No. No, you were not going to risk his life on the chance that the Law of Valentine would finally decide to jump up and do their job. After a deep breath, you crawled over him and looked out the right window. A speckled white horse appeared first; with little hesitation, you took aim and shot. The blood splattered everywhere, you couldn’t watch as the wounded animal fell to the ground, taking the rider out with it.

“Kill that damn bitch!!!” One of the riders screamed, taking aim for you directly.

A gunshot fired. You ducked down, covering your head for the spray of wood...but none came. Did they miss you? Were you dead? You didn’t pull the trigger. Quickly, you poked your head out. You sit bewildered as the man who had aimed at you went down, slumping forward on his horse before falling under its feet. If you didn't fire the shot and the rest of the men hadn't decided to commit treason...who had killed him? The hope wanted to pull through, to lift your spirits - but confusion’s grip held tight. Another shot - this time, you’re able to trace its source.

The way the sun posed behind the hill, he looked like an angel of God descending from the heavens. For a brief moment, you found it amusing that this was almost too picturesque - a hero flying down from on high to rescue those in distress. Someone was certainly looking out for you in that moment. Your heart hammered in your ears and you were too tired to stop yourself from gawking as a man on a golden horse took another shot - another rider fell, his horse dragging his corpse in the dirt below.

While it was hard to make out his features, you saw the tan coat around the savior’s shoulders; the black of the hat topped on his head shadowed his brow but you swore you saw the fire in his eyes as he readied another shot. And it was easy to understand what this mysterious stranger was doing:

Saving your god damn lives.

The prospect of having someone on your side now lit the fire under you; if he would cover the right, you could hopefully take out the remaining man on the left side. James grabbed the hem of your skirt, mumbling your name. "Wha...what the hell is going on?"

“Someone’s helping us.”

There was a pause before James seemed to register what you said. His head snapped up, looking at you with pained perplexion. “Please...please tell me...it’s the...sheriff?”

“Well, it’s not like he gave me his bloody calling card, James!”

You didn’t elaborate, stepping over your brother’s wounded form once more pressing against the left side of the carriage. If you remembered right, only one man remained on this side. Hazarding a glance, you dared to slip up and glance out the window. He was close now, his horse racing alongside what was left of the stained wood. Your throat tightened as you realized his hand was outstretched, reaching out for the door or to you - more than likely whichever he found purchase with first. Purely panicked, you let out a yell and took a shot.

“Sonuvobitch!”

You tasted blood in your mouth, metallic and bitter, that lingered far too long. But the man recoiled and threw his hand in the air...or rather, what was left of it. You stared, awestruck, as your brain suddenly registered that the revolver had blown the man’s appendage clean off. The horror of it all was not lost on you, but you couldn’t help but feel...relieved. If he didn’t have a hand, he couldn’t use a gun, right?

Still, his ability to properly use the rifle on his back was forgotten as the horse let out a whinny, pulled off and away, moved away from your carriage. His screaming hadn’t stopped, growing more and more desperate and terrified as the minutes passed. After the raider was a few meters behind you, he rolled, falling off his horse and was quickly left in the dust.

The weight of what happened hit you, harder than you expected. With a sigh, you collapsed to your knees and let the pistol rest in your lap. You didn’t realize you were gasping until you felt a familiar hand settle over yours. You paused, swallowing thickly - but resolved to give James a shaky smile. “We...we have to figure out how to stop the horses.”

“Are they all...dead?” he asked, trying to lift himself up. The bleeding was worse. His side was sticky with blood.

“I...I think so. I’m not sure, the man seemed to be making shor-”

A thud from above interrupted you, the carriage rocked and lifted up on two wheels before slamming back down onto the ground. You gasped, reaching again for the pistol. You aimed it up towards the ceiling, pulled back on the lever, squeezed the trigger and…

Click.

Your heart sank. You tried the trigger once, twice, three more times.

Click! Click! Click!!

“...the blasted thing is jammed!” You hissed, and James met your horrified expression.

“What do you mean it’s jammed!? Revolvers don’t jam!”

“Well, this one bloody did!!”

The footsteps moved and from the box, a thick figure slid into place, taking hold of the reigns. You felt the lurch as the horses dug their hooves into the dirt and mud, slowing the carriage until it settled in the heat and dust.

“That’s a girl...easy now.”

The voice was gruff, deep and low in the chest. You twisted, catching sight just in time to see whoever the man was, stand up but - spied only dark pants. The clink of spurs made your hair stand on end as he climbed down from the perch. No. No, no, no. Is this the man that was trying to rescue you? Was this him? Or was it one of the bandits finally trying to collect for all their hard work?

“Stay down.” You gathered yourself quickly.

It wasn’t up for debate, though as you stood and put yourself between your wounded brother and the door, James seemed insistent on trying to stop you. “What are you-”

The footsteps made their way around the side. You took a deep steady breath - with any luck, whoever it was hadn’t heard that the revolver in your hands was practically worthless. You could probably frighten him off - worst-case scenario, you gave James enough time to make a run for it.

The door opened suddenly, causing you to jump and your aim to waver for only a moment. Light flooded into the dark, bullet-riddled carriage. It took your eyes a moment to adjust, but once they did you found yourself staring down at a tall, stocky man in a black hat. The same black hat you had seen before. His blue eyes glanced back and forth as his hands slowly rose in the air. “Ah, ma’am, I mean you no harm.”

“Who are you?” You tried to keep your voice steady, low to appear more confident than you felt. Something was better than nothing, right?

His drawl was slow and you weren’t sure if it was because he was trying to gauge the situation, size you up, or consider your mental well being. “Jus’ a stranger.” He answered after another minute of silent deliberation. “I was makin’ my way down to town when I saw your carriage gettin’ attacked.”

“So you just decided to throw yourself into danger...is that just something you do to pass the time then?”

This statement amused him. He let out a laugh, shrugging and ducking his head close to his shoulders. “Yeah,” He sighed, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

...He didn’t seem like he was going to hurt you. That was good at least. You lowered the gun, just a little. Your eyes narrowed and your lips thinned as you looked him over. Apparently, he took this as a sign of good faith, lowering his hands. His eyes continued to look you over, taking in your ripped dress, blood-covered face, and shaking hands.

“...I still have a bullet in my shoulder.”

The new voice caught the man by surprise. His brows rose and he tilted his body ever so slightly to catch the pitiful form of James lying in a heap on the ground. Still, ever the charmer, James gave him a grin. “Please, take a breather. Don’t want to rush anyone on my account.”

“Ah, shit…” The man shook his head, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll ride yah folk into town. There’s a doctor there, he’ll be able to help you.”

You moved to kneel by James, lifting him up and pulling the black fabric away from his shoulder to inspect. You looked at the man again, nodding urgently. “Please. Please, thank you!”

“Don’ mention it.” And with a grunt, he slammed the door shut and climbed back up into the driver’s seat. “Don’ worry,” He called back to you after getting the horses back up to a gallop. “We ain’ that far out from Valentine!”

The bleeding hadn’t stopped. James was about as white as lamb’s wool and you heard the labor of his breathing. “If you die, James Edwards, I will make my way down to Hell myself and kill you all over again.”

He laughed, wheezing and nodding all the way. “Oh, how comforting.”

Still, he never lets go of your hand. You gave it a strong squeeze, pulling him towards you to rest his head on your shoulder. He’s going to live. God willing, he’ll live through this and a hundred years more. “Do your counting, James. In French this time.”

“I...I hate to do it in…”

“I know. Ready?”

He sighed heavily. “Un...deux...trois…”

He counted forwards...then backward. You listened, muttering along with him for a moment before you glanced over your shoulder and through the tiny window looking up into the driver’s box. The man’s shoulders were slumped and, aside from the whipping of the reigns, he stayed entirely still. “Sir!” You called up to him. “I apologize, but...you never told me your name!”

For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you as he sat quietly for a moment. Just when you were about to call out again, he leaned back.

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”

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bountyofbeads · 5 years ago

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Rural Montana Had Already Lost Too Many Native Women. Then Selena Disappeared. https://nyti.ms/37h2SjG

Rural Montana Had Already Lost Too Many Native Women. Then Selena Disappeared.

For decades, with little public notice, Native women and girls have gone missing or been found murdered. The disappearance of Selena Not Afraid is showing how much things are changing.

By Jack Healy, Photographs by Cristina Baussan | Published Jan. 20, 2020, 3:00 a.m. ET | New York Times | Posted January 20, 2020 |

BIG HORN COUNTY, Mont. — Jackie Big Hair slept in her car again, waking every few hours to fire up the engine and gaze at the frozen highway rest stop where her 16-year-old daughter had been reported missing.

“I just have to be here,” Ms. Big Hair, 50, said, watching semis lumber across the plains. “I don’t know where else to go.”

This was her vigil now, along with searches in Billings about 30 miles away, three weeks after her youngest child, Selena Not Afraid, was reported missing from a barren stretch of Interstate 90 in a southern Montana county where 65 percent of the population is Native American. Law enforcement officials said a van carrying Selena home the day after a New Year’s party in Billings had pulled into the rest stop after breaking down, and then reportedly started up again and driven away without her. Nobody had heard from her since.

A national outcry over the killings and disappearances of Indigenous women has reached a boiling point here in Big Horn County, a rural stretch of rolling mountains and ranch lands that contains the Crow and Northern Cheyenne reservations and has the highest rate of missing and murdered Native Americans in Montana, and among the highest nationwide.

Local activists had an incomplete count of 27 Native women who had gone missing in recent memory in Big Horn County alone. Now, there are 28. The difference here and in many parts of the West is that for decades the disappearance of mothers and children, cousins and friends almost invariably played out in utter obscurity, with modest law enforcement investigations that almost invariably languished unsolved.

Activists and researchers say the crisis burned unheeded for generations until a few years ago, when families’ stories of how their loved ones were sex trafficked, murdered with impunity or dismissed as chronic runaways gained traction through grass-roots organizing and social media, forcing politicians and law enforcement to take notice.

Last year, 5,590 Indigenous women were reported missing to the F.B.I.’s National Crime Information Center, but advocates say the staggeringly high rates of violence suffered by Indigenous people is still not fully reflected in official accounting. Some of the victims are misclassified as Asian or Hispanic, or are overlooked if they live in urban areas instead of reservations, or their cases are lost in a jurisdictional maze over which state, federal or tribal law enforcement agency bears responsibility for investigating.

Law enforcement officials said these can be extremely difficult cases to investigate, sometimes ranging over vast expanses of territory, but that they are committed to solving them. The families say the problem is more a matter of will and resources than of difficulty.

“Native women have been dehumanized from the very beginning,” said Desi Rodriguez-Lonebear, a demographer who grew up in Big Horn County and is on the board of the Sovereign Bodies Institute, which has created its own database of cases. “The law has failed us time and time again. We’re tired of it. We’re tired of our people dying, of our kids going to jail.”

Now, families like Selena’s are taking an urgent public stand to pressure politicians and law enforcement to provide more aggressive responses to these cases. They are raising alarms through social media and even bracing themselves against Montana blizzards to keep their loved ones from being forgotten. They are organizing candlelit vigils, rallying at courthouses and sheriff’s offices and marching for days along prairie highways, reservation roads and to the steps of state capitols.

“We’re here demanding it,” Selena’s aunt Cheryl Horn said one afternoon, warming her hands with a bowl of chili as volunteers returned from another fruitless search of the nearby hills. “We’re not being quiet. We’re not leaving.”

In recent months, a flurry of federal and state agencies across the country and here in Montana have raced to respond with task forces and law-enforcement resources, including a new Justice Department effort to coordinate federal and local responses to disappearances and murders in Indian Country.

Law-enforcement authorities say that Selena, a member of the Crow tribe, went missing at about 2 p.m. on New Year’s Day. A New Year’s Eve party in Billings had spilled over into the following afternoon, and she was riding back toward her home in Hardin, about 50 miles east.

According to local and federal law-enforcement alerts, the van broke down and pulled over at the rest stop, where Selena was last seen walking into a field. Her family believes she was taken, possibly by a passing car.

When her relatives heard the news, they began pouring into the rest stop, circling their cars and campers and horse trailers into a makeshift windbreak and transforming a frozen spit of asphalt and concrete into a scene of prayer and protest.

They lit a campfire, searched through ranchers’ fields and garlanded the fences and sign poles with red ribbons and posters of Selena. They saturated social media with calls for help. “Internet warriors,” one of Selena’s aunts called the response.

At 16, Selena already knew the toll of violence too well.

She had buried three siblings — a brother who had been fatally shot by Billings police officers; a sister who was struck and killed by a car; and her twin sister, who died by suicide when she was just 11 years old.

“I’ve always felt like there’s a bad presence against us,” Selena’s older brother, R.J., said. “I’ve expected the worst.”

After Selena was reported missing, police officers from South Dakota and Wyoming joined Big Horn County sheriff’s deputies, Bureau of Indian Affairs officers and volunteers to search the nearby hills. Federal and local law-enforcement officers set up a command center in the basement of the county courthouse. Thermal drones and helicopters buzzed overhead.

The F.B.I. issued an alert for Selena and sent in a search team, but agents and sheriff’s investigators have said little more about her disappearance, or whether they are investigating the older acquaintances who had been riding in the van with her. .

The swift response has surprised some activists. “Nothing moves that fast,” said BethYana Pease, a Crow community organizer.

Families and activists say they have been sounding these alarms for years. They say the crisis flows from generations of discriminatory government policies and racism in reservation border towns like Hardin that devalue Native women’s lives and deaths.

Jay Harris, the county prosecutor, who is a member of the Crow tribe, said the proliferation of meth use and a scarcity of federal law enforcement had exacerbated the problem. Last November, the Crow chairman declared a state of emergency over what he called ineffective investigations and unanswered police calls on the 2.3 million-acre reservation, and said the tribe would move to form its own police force.

Some victims’ families wondered why the deaths and disappearances of their own mothers, sisters and nieces had not sparked a similar outcry. Ms. Pease ticked off names she said had never received justice: 14-year-old Henny Scott, who was found dead two weeks after she went missing in December 2018. Bonnie Three Irons, a mother of six, whose body was found in the mountains in April 2017.

Or 18-year-old Kaysera Stops Pretty Places. It was late August when Kaysera went out with friends in her hometown, Hardin, the county seat. Four days later, a jogger found her body in a suburban backyard next to the house where she had been that evening, just steps away from a busy road.

“Where the hell were these big shots when my granddaughter was missing?” asked Carmelia Brown, a relative who said she loved Kaysera as a granddaughter.

Kaysera’s family believes she was murdered, but her cause of death has lingered undetermined for four months, her autopsy still unfinished. Her family says it has never been told a certain time of death. The case is classified as “Suspicious” and still being investigated, said Mr. Harris, the county attorney.

Kaysera’s family members wondered how she could have lain in someone’s lawn for days without being seen. They were troubled that her body had been shuttled back and forth between the funeral home and state crime lab before being cremated by the county coroner, who is also the funeral director. They were disturbed that one of the lead investigators into Kaysera’s death had also been involved in an incident in which her younger brother was beaten and forcibly restrained.

“Why does nobody care about this?” asked Grace Bulltail, one of Kaysera’s aunts and an assistant professor of engineering at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. “We’re not being given any information.”

Family members were uncertain whether Kaysera and Selena knew each other, but their stories have become intertwined. When Kaysera’s family led marches to the county courthouse seeking answers into her death, Selena attended, her aunt Cheryl Horn said. She posted Facebook tributes to Big Horn County’s missing and murdered Indigenous women.

One morning at Selena’s roadside vigil, as one of her great-aunts lit the day’s fire, her overcoat swung open to show a red sweatshirt bearing Kaysera’s face.

“This is the justice that Kaysera didn’t get,” Ms. Horn, Selena’s aunt, said.

*********

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newstfionline · 4 years ago

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Headlines

Masks, gloves, and other coronavirus waste are starting to fill up our oceans (Fast Company) It’s not news that our trash eventually finds its way to the ocean. Because oceans are downstream, litter will eventually find a pathway into our bodies of water if it’s not discarded properly—and often even if it is. But as the COVID-19 crisis slowly generates a new kind of waste, made up of disposable masks and other PPE items, it’s posing new problems for the Earth’s oceans.

Dark days in the cinema business (The Week) Movie theaters will need more than popcorn to persuade audiences to catch the latest blockbuster this summer. Cinemas are among the last businesses to reopen in the United States and Europe, and with good reason: Plenty of customers remain skeptical that it’s “safe to sit in a room with strangers for two hours during a pandemic.” But the largest chains, AMC, Regal, and Cinemark, are forging ahead with plans to reopen nationwide by mid-July. It’s already proving tricky. AMC, the world’s largest theater operator, “drew outcry when it said it wouldn’t require masks” because the company “did not want to be drawn into a political controversy.” AMC later reversed its policy. It’s still capping seating at 30 percent, which will make chopping down its $10 billion net debt difficult. Meanwhile, the threat from streaming services has only grown during the crisis. If the public decides that going to the movies is unsafe, studios can go straight to video.

Protesters Won’t Leave CHOP in Seattle as Tensions Rise (WSJ) Several hundred demonstrators are staying in an autonomous area claimed by protesters for racial justice in Seattle, even as its size is shrinking and pressure to shut it down completely is increasing from local businesses and residents, as well as city officials. The Capitol Hill Occupied Protest zone, or CHOP, began on June 8 after thousands of protesters moved into a six-block area in the artsy neighborhood. Seattle Mayor Jenny Durkan ordered police to abandon the local East Precinct police station to help end violent confrontations there following the killing of the African-American George Floyd by a white Minneapolis policeman on May 25. The CHOP was initially akin to a community festival focused on antiracism and police reform, with few problems or complaints from local residents. But last weekend there were three shootings in the area, one of which left a man dead. Police attempting to respond to the fatal incident in the predawn hours Saturday were blocked by a crowd telling them to leave. The 19-year-old victim, shot by an unknown assailant inside the occupied zone, was taken by private citizens to a hospital where he was pronounced dead. “It’s time for people to go home,” Ms. Durkan said in a press conference Monday. “We can still accommodate people who want to protest peacefully, come there and gather. But the impacts on the businesses and residents and community are now too much.”

272 uniformed NYPD cops file for retirement after George Floyd death (NY Post) Cops are hanging up their handcuffs in huge numbers. The flurry of farewells began after the police-involved killing of George Floyd on May 25, with 272 uniformed cops putting in retirement papers from then through June 24, the NYPD says. An NYPD source suggested the recent departures could signal a coming crisis for the 36,000-member department, which also faces a $1 billion budget reduction amid the “defund the police” furor. Police Benevolent Association president Patrick Lynch said cops are “at their breaking point, whether they have 20 years on the job or only two. We are all asking the same question: ‘How can we keep doing our job in this environment?’ And that is exactly what the anti-cop crowd wants. If we have no cops because no one wants to be a cop, they will have achieved their ultimate goal.”

In Haiti, coronavirus spreads in slums (Reuters) Berthony Clermont shares a two-room flat without running water with 10 relatives in the Haitian capital’s Cite Soleil slum, so when he fell ill with the novel coronavirus, they all did. “I tried staying at home at the beginning but it was difficult to isolate myself as the house is too small,” said the 45-year old. Mistrustful of the dilapidated public healthcare in Haiti—the poorest country in the Americas—Clermont and his family treated themselves at home with herbal teas. Clermont’s plight is shared by many in Haiti and, more broadly, across the Caribbean and Latin America. Home to 654 million people, it is the most unequal region in the world, according to the United Nations. As governments in Europe and some parts of Asia have managed to stem the spread of coronavirus, Latin America and the Caribbean have emerged as one of the epicenters of the pandemic.

A divided Poland holds presidential vote delayed by pandemic (AP) Poles voted in a presidential election Sunday that was delayed by the coronavirus pandemic and was taking place amid deep cultural and political divisions in the European Union nation. President Andrzej Duda, a 48-year-old conservative backed by the nationalist ruling Law and Justice party, was running against 10 other candidates as he sought a second 5-year term. Whether Duda wins or not will determine whether the ruling party keeps its near-monopoly on political power in Poland. Most recent polls showed that no single candidate was likely to reach the 50% required to avoid a runoff given the crowded field of candidates, all of whom are male. In that case, the two top vote-getters will face each other on July 12.

After deadly border clash, India faces uncomfortable truths about its reliance on China (Washington Post) After 20 Indian soldiers were killed in the first deadly clash with Chinese troops in decades, India faced a dilemma. Could it retaliate against its more powerful neighbor? Military action held obvious risks, including a dangerous escalation between two nuclear-armed nations. Some called for an economic boycott instead, urging ordinary Indians and companies to shun Chinese goods. Now India is facing an uncomfortable truth familiar to governments around the world: It’s difficult to disentangle from China. In wide-ranging goods such as cars, cellphones and medicine, Chinese components are a crucial part of Indian supply chains. Even bulletproof vests used by Indian soldiers are made with material imported from China. China is India’s second-largest overall trading partner and its biggest source of imports. India, by contrast, does not figure in China’s top 15 trading partners and is even lower on the list of sources of imports.

China virus cases stabilize (AP) China has extended COVID-19 tests to newly reopened salons amid a drop in cases, while South Korea continues to face new infections after it eased social distancing rules to lift the economy. Hard-hit Italy, meanwhile, registered the lowest day-to-day tally of COVID-19 deaths Saturday in nearly four months. No positive cases were found in Beijing’s beauty and barber shops in a further sign that the city’s recent outbreak has been largely brought under control. Beijing officials have temporarily shut a huge wholesale food market where the virus spread widely, reclosed schools and locked down some neighborhoods. Anyone leaving Beijing is required to have a negative virus test result within the previous seven days. The Korea Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said that 40 of the newly reported cases were domestically infected, while 22 others came from overseas. In Hawaii, the city of Honolulu announced that campgrounds will reopen for the first time in three months with limited permits to ensure social distancing. In contrast, Washington Gov. Jay Inslee put a hold on plans to move counties to the fourth phase of his reopening plan as cases continue to increase.

Dozens arrested as Hong Kongers protest planned national security laws (Reuters) Hong Kong police arrested at least 53 people on Sunday after scuffles erupted during a relatively peaceful protest against planned national security legislation to be implemented by the mainland Chinese government. Armed riot police were present as a crowd of several hundred moved from Jordan to Mong Kok in the Kowloon district, staging what was intended as a “silent protest” against the planned law. However, chanting and slogans were shouted towards police and later scuffles broke out in Mong Kok, prompting police to use pepper spray to subdue parts of the crowd. The proposed national security law has raised concerns among Hong Kong democracy activists and some foreign governments that Beijing is further eroding the extensive autonomy promised when Britain handed the territory back to China in 1997.

Arab leaders say West Bank annexation will imperil regional security. Will Israel listen? (Washington Post) A succession of Arab leaders and officials have sharply warned Israel against moving forward with a controversial plan to annex Palestinian lands in the Israeli-occupied West Bank as early as this week—an action they say could destabilize the region and undermine peace efforts. Jordan’s King Abdullah has declared it “unacceptable” and warned of a “massive conflict” in the region. Senior Jordanian officials have threatened to reconsider their peace treaty with Israel or their security cooperation agreements. Egypt, the only other Arab nation that has signed a peace treaty with Israel, has also objected, as have Saudi Arabia and Bahrain. The United Arab Emirates said annexation would imperil Israel’s chances of building stronger ties to Persian Gulf nations. But it remains to be seen whether Arab leaders will go beyond mere statements of solidarity for Palestinians and take concrete measures in the event of annexation, Palestinians and regional analysts say. Pressure from the streets to do so could be limited, as Arabs across the region are distracted by the coronavirus pandemic, economic instability, civil wars and other woes.

Opposition wins historic rerun of Malawi’s presidential vote (AP) The opposition has won Malawi’s historic rerun of the presidential election, the first time a court-overturned vote in Africa has led to the defeat of an incumbent leader. Lazarus Chakwera’s victory late Saturday was a result of months of determined street protests in the southern African nation, and of a unanimous decision by the Constitutional Court that widespread irregularities in the May 2019 election—including the use of correction fluid on ballots —could not stand. President Peter Mutharika, who had sought a second five-year term, earlier Saturday called the rerun of the election “the worst in Malawi’s history.” He alleged his party’s monitors had been beaten and intimidated during Tuesday’s election, but the Malawi Human Rights Commission, an observer, called the vote peaceful and transparent. Chakwera won with 58% of the vote, or 2.6 million votes out of 4.4 million cast. Mutharika received 1.7 million. Flag-waving supporters erupted in cheers as the results were read out, and some street celebrations began. Fireworks popped.

#headlines #news

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beclectic-witchcraft · 5 years ago

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Giant List of Color Properties

I’ve been working on a huge compilation of color correspondences and properties and decided to share it here! It should be useful for color magic. I will likely update this in the future.

Disclaimers: Never attempt to substitute professional medical help with magic. This list does not represent the traditional color properties/correspondences of all cultures and religions. I am a pagan American and this list may reflect that. Many of these correspondences were compiled from other sources, which are listed at the bottom. Some are my own speculation.

Red 💋

Astrological Correspondences: Aries, Mars, Pluto, Scorpio

Body/Health Correspondences: Blood, Bones, Colon, Nails, Prostate, Rectum, Tail Bone, Teeth

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Anger, Fire Element, Heat, Intense Emotions, Material World, Mechanical Things, Rebirth, South Direction

Can Increase/Improve: Ambition, Confidence, Courage, Desire, Energy, General Health, Joy, Leadership, Love, Lust, Motivation, Passion, Passionate Love, Physical Energy, Power, Protection Against Being Attacked, Self-Esteem, Sexual Energy, Sexual Love, Stability, Strength, Willpower

Can Increase Success in: Battles, Business Deals, Buying Things, Confrontation, Energy Work, Health Magic, Hunting, Love Magic, Repairs, Selling Things, Sex Magic, Sexual Activities, Warming Up

Can Decrease: Depression, Fatigue, Fear, Weakness

Orange 🍁

Astrological Correspondences: Leo, Mercury, Sagittarius, Sun

Body/Health Correspondences: Addiction, Adrenalin, Alcoholism, Bladder, Digestion System, Drug Abuse, Eating Disorders, Lower Abdomen, Lymph, Kidneys, Pelvis, Sperm, Uterus

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Adventure, Emotions, Fire Element

Can Increase/Improve: Attraction, Confidence, Creativity, Dominance, Emotional Connections, Energy, Enthusiasm, Fertility, Fun, Happiness, Joy, Kindness, Opportunities, Material Gain, Mental Alertness, Power, Sexuality, Stimulation, Strength, Vitality, Warmth

Can Increase Success in: Adapting to Sudden Changes, Art Magic, Attracting What You Need or Want, Being Active, Breaking Down Barriers, Dealing with Major Changes, Encouraging Self/Others, Energy Work, Harvesting, Legal Matters, Making Emotional Connections, Sealing a Spell, Self-Expression, Sex Magic, Sexual Activities, Transitioning, Warming Up

Can Decrease: Boredom, Creator’s Block, Depression, Fatigue, Feelings of Abandonment, Hesitation, Weakness

Yellow ��

Astrological Correspondences: Gemini, Jupiter, Leo, Libra, Mercury, Taurus, Uranus

Body/Health Correspondences: Digestion, Gallbladder, Liver, Lower Back, Pancreas, Spine, Spleen, Upper Abdomen

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Air Element, East Direction

Can Increase/Improve: Beauty, Communication, Confidence, Creativity, Friendships, Happiness, Humility, Ideas, Imagination, Inspiration, Intellect, Inventiveness, Knowledge, Mental Clarity, Optimism, Persuasiveness, Productivity, Prosperity, Protection, Self-Confidence, Self-Control, Self-Esteem

Can Increase Success in: Beauty Magic, Being Counseled, Business Ventures, Communicating, Counseling, Divination, Healing, Health Magic, Life, Making Friends, Persuasion, Self-Empowerment, Strengthening Intellect, ,Studying

Can Decrease: Creator’s Block, Depression, Impulsiveness, Negative Thinking, Pessimism

Green 🌿

Astrological Correspondences: Aquarius, Cancer, Capricorn, Libra, Mercury, Neptune, Pisces, Taurus, Uranus Venus, Virgo

Body/Health Correspondences: Breasts, Chest, Circulatory System, Heart, Lungs, Respiratory System, Shoulders, Spine, Upper Back

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Abundance, Architects, Artists, Balance, Change, Chiropractors, Cosmetologists, Dancers, Designers, Earth Element, Emotions, Engineers, Entertainers, Faeries, Gardeners, Growth, Immortality, Luxury, Models, Money, New Beginnings, North Direction, Rebirth, Renewal

Can Increase/Improve: Achievements, Affection, Alliances, Artistic Ability, Balance, Beauty, Compassion, Courage, Empathy, Fertility, General Health, Grace, Growth, Harmony, Hope, Income, Love, Luck, Platonic Love, Prosperity, Romantic Love Trust, Wealth, Wellness

Can Increase Success in: Architecture Work, Art, Balancing an Unstable Situation, Cosmetology, Chiropractic Work, Dancing, Design, Earth Magic, Empath Work, Engineering, Entertaining, Existing Relationships, Faery Work, Fashion, Fertility Magic, Finding Soul Mates, Forming New Relationships, Gardening, Garden Magic, Getting Employed, Gifting Things, Health Magic, Healing, Herbal Magic, Household Improvements, Love Magic, Making Alliances, Marriage, Modeling, Music, Nature Magic, Shopping, Social Activities, Transformations, Transitioning, Work Life

Can Decrease: Bad Luck, Clumsiness, Distrust, Instability, Poorness, Unemployment

Light Blue 💧

Astrological Correspondences: Aquarius, Mercury, Neptune, Libra, Pisces, Venus, Virgo

Body/Health Correspondences: Neck, Throat

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Air Element, Truth

Can Increase/Improve: Communication, Harmony in the Home, Health, Honesty, Inner Peace, Inspiration, Openness, Patience, Trust, Trustworthiness, Understanding, Wellness, Wisdom

Can Increase Success in: Being Fair, Being Open, Communicating, Discovering the Truth, Healing, Health Magic, Telling the Truth

Can Decrease: Creator’s Block

Blue 🌊

Astrological Correspondences: Aquarius, Cancer, Capricorn, Jupiter, Libra, Moon, Neptune, Pisces, Taurus, Uranus, Virgo

Body/Health Correspondences: Brain, Ears, Forehead, Lungs, Neck, Throat, Thyroid

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Doctors, Emotions, Growth, Guardians, Horses, Masculinity, Merchants, Ocean, Religion, Truth, Water Element, West Direction

Can Increase/Improve: Charity, Communication, Empathy, Expressiveness, Fidelity, Fluidity, Group Success, Growth, Happiness, Harmony in the Home, Honesty, Insightfulness, Joy, Loyalty, Luck, Occult Power, Opportunities, Patience, Peace, Protection, Psychic Abilities, Social Standing, Trust, Trustworthiness, Understanding, Wealth, Wisdom

Can Increase Success in: Broadcasting, Calming Down, Communicating, Dealing with Foreign Cultures/Countries, Empath Work, Expanding, Forecasting, Guardianship, Healing, Higher Education, Introspection, Legal Matters, Letting Go, Long Distance Travel, Medical Work, Meditation, Psychic Work, Reading, Research, Self-Improvement, Self-Realization, Selling Things, Spiritual Healing, Sports, Studying, Traveling Safety, Working with Horses

Can Decrease: Anxiety, Confusion, Depression, Stress

Indigo 🌎

Astrological Correspondences: Jupiter, Sagittarius, Saturn, Uranus

Body/Health Correspondences: Depressive Disorder, Forehead

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Emotions

Can Increase/Improve: Clarity of Purpose, Emotional Vulnerability, Empathic Skills, Expressiveness, Fluidity, Insightfulness, Psychic Abilities

Can Increase Success in: Empath Work, Letting Go of Emotional Baggage, Recognizing Emotional Baggage, Self-Mastery, Self-Realizing, Spiritual Healing

Can Decrease: Depression

Purple 🔮

Astrological Correspondences: Capricorn, Gemini, Jupiter, Mercury, Neptune, Sagittarius, Saturn

Body/Health Correspondences: Bones, Ears, Eyes, Face, Fibromyalgia, Forehead, Nervous System, Pituitary Gland, Top of Head, Upper Respiratory System

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Contracts, Emotions, Hidden Forces, Idealism, Merchants, Messages, Occult, Royalty, Students

Can Increase/Improve: Ambition, Clairvoyance, Connection to the Divine, Connection to the Universe, Devotion, Fame, Forgiveness, Happiness, Humility, Intelligence, Intuition, Justice, Memory, Nurturing Qualities, Peace, Power, Progress, Protection, Psychic Abilities, Spiritual Development, Spirituality, Spiritual Power, Spiritual Protection, Success, Wisdom

Can Increase Success in: Advertising, Astrology, Balancing Sensitivity, Clairvoyant Work, Communicating, Conflicts, Connecting with Deities, Connecting with Higher Realms, Correspondences, Dream Work, Divination, Editing, Education, Getting Promoted, Invoking Spirits, Meditation, Secret Dealings, Selling Things, Spiritual Healing, Visiting Friends, Writing

Can Decrease: Depression, Emotional Hurt, Wounded Pride

Pink 💕

Astrological Correspondences: Libra, Taurus, Venus

Body/Health Correspondences: Breast Cancer, Muscular Systems

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Children, Emotions, Femininity, Infants, Innocent Love, New Beginnings

Can Increase/Improve: Affection, Compassion, Family Relationships, Forgiveness, Friendships, Goodness, Harmony, Honor, Morality, Passion, Peace, Personal Harmony, Personal Success, Physical Energy, Romantic Love, Self-Love, Sleep, Sweetness

Can Increase Success in: Being Forgiven, Buying, Selling, & Adopting Animals, Calming Down, Childcare, Companionship, Emotional Healing, Exercising, Family Life, Forgiving Self/Others, Friendships, Gay Love, Gardening, Getting a Move On, Love Life, Love Magic, Making Friends, Relaxing, Sex Magic, Sexual Activities, Spiritual Awakenings, Spiritual Healing, Surgery, Taking Action, Woodworking

Can Decrease: Anxiety, Insomnia, Self-Hatred, Stress

Brown 🐻

Astrological Correspondences: Capricorn, Pluto, Saturn, Scorpio, Taurus, Venus, Virgo

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Animals, Balance, Earth Element, Hearth, Home, Nature, New Beginnings

Can Increase/Improve: Balance, Concentration, Endurance, Focus, Friendships, Fruitfulness, Generosity, Health of Pets/Livestock, Material Gain, Security, Solidity, Stability, Strength

Can Increase Success in: Animal Magic, Communicating with Nature Spirits, Finding Lost Things, Grounding, Harvesting, Home Life, Making Friends, Nature Magic, Solidifying, Sound Decision-Making, Telepathic Work

Can Decrease: Distractedness, Weakness

Black 🕷

Astrological Correspondences: Capricorn, Mars, Pluto, Saturn, Scorpio

Body/Health Correspondences: Bones, Teeth

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Beginnings, Challenges, Civil Servants, Death, Debt, Earth Element, Elders, Force, Grief, Rebirth, Sacrifice, Separation, Truth

Can Increase/Improve: Dignity, Justice, Material Gain, Patience, Power, Protection, Stability, Willpower

Can Increase Success in: Absorbing Energies, Banishing, Binding, Creating, Discovering, Divination, Enlightenment, Farming, Legal Matters, Letting Go, Manifestation, Neutralizing Forces, Overcoming Obstacles, Parting, Plumbing, Real Estate Matters, Removing Curses/Hexes/Etc., Repelling Curses/Hexes/Etc., Tests, Transforming, Transitioning, Understanding One’s Limits

Can Decrease: Animosity, Jealousy, Negativity, Weakness

Grey 🐺

Astrological Correspondences: Cancer, Capricorn, Moon, Saturn

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Neutrality, Reservation, Secrets

Can Increase/Improve: Psychic Awareness, Stability

Can Increase Success in: Binding Negative Influences, Complex Decisions, Contemplation, Divination, Reaching Compromise

Can Decrease: Competitiveness, Weakness

White 🕊

Astrological Correspondences: Cancer, Mercury, Moon, Neptune, Pisces, Uranus

Body/Health Correspondences: Brain, Pineal Gland, Semen, Top of Head

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Cycle of Life, Freedom, Illumination, Innocence, Neutrality, Purity, Truth

Can Increase/Improve: Clarity, Connection to Higher Self, Connection to the Divine, General Health, Peace, Protection, Safety, Spiritual Growth, Understanding

Can Increase Success in: Any Magical Endeavor, Becoming More Outgoing, Blessings, Cleansings, Consecrations, Enlightenment, Establishing Order, Initiation, Unifying, Substituting Other Colors, Transforming, Transitioning

Can Decrease: Confusion, Shyness

Gold 👑

Astrological Correspondences: Leo, Sun

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Courtrooms, Inner Strength, Justice System, Masculinity, Money

Can Increase/Improve: Ambition, Financial Gain, General Health, Good Fortune, Higher Intuition, Honor, Inner Strength, Inspiration, Intuition, Power, Prosperity, Solar Connections, Success, Understanding, Victory, Wealth

Can Increase Success in: Business Endeavors, Divination, Legal Matters, Overcoming Obstacles, Self-Realization, Solar Magic, Work Life

Can Decrease: Bad Luck, Confusion, Creator’s Block, Poorness

Silver 👽

Astrological Correspondences: Cancer, Moon

Miscellaneous Correspondences: Femininity, Mysteries, Secrets, Tides, Truth

Can Increase/Improve: Insightfulness, Intelligence, Intuition, Lunar Connections, Memory, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Awareness, Psychic Development, Spiritual Development, Wisdom

Can Increase Success in: Astral Travel, Astral Work, Divination, Getting Pregnant, Lucid Dreaming, Lunar Magic, Meditation, Reflection, Warding Off Negativity

Can Decrease: Negativity

[Source] [Source] [Source] [Source] [Source] [Source] [Source] [Source]

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