#World Raid Rally

[bikerspiritmagazine]

Κερδίστε το Yamaha Ténéré 700 World Raid που νίκησε στο  Tunisia Desert Challenge - Δηλώστε συμμετοχή στην κλήρωση

Κερδίστε το Yamaha Ténéré 700 World Raid που νίκησε στο  Tunisia Desert Challenge – Δηλώστε συμμετοχή στην κλήρωση

Η Yamaha Motor Europe συνεργάστηκε με το Riders for Health, που τροφοδοτείται από το Two Wheels for Life, για να σας δώσει την ευκαιρία να κερδίσετε μία από τις επίσημες μοτοσυκλέτες ράλι Yamaha Ténéré 700 World Raid που οδήγησαν στη νίκη στο Tunisia Desert Challenge από τον Alessandro Botturi. (more…)

[crosscountryrally]

Bahrain Raid Xtreme se saltará el Desafío Ruta 40 y surgen dudas de la continuidad del proyecto

Se ha conocido esta semana que Bahrain Raid Xtreme (Prodrive) no estará presente en el Desafío Ruta 40 en Argentina este mes de agosto y que se enfocará en el Rally de Marruecos como preparación al Dakar, con lo que Sebastien Loeb perderá la opción de luchar el título del Mundial de Rally Raid FIA W2RC con Nasser Al-Attiyah.

Según los reportes que vienen desde Francia y España, el auspicio de Bahrein ha terminado, lo que pone en duda la continuidad del proyecto hasta sumar un nuevo socio para Prodrive. Si bien el BRX Hunter ha mostrado competitividad, también ha tenido gran cantidad de problemas mecánicos y mala suerte en las tres ediciones del Dakar que ha disputado. Otro tanto ha sucedido en el Mundial, donde, por ejemplo, llegaban de líderes con Loeb al Sonora Rally en México hasta que un accidente los dejó fuera de carrera y bien lejos de Nasser.

Una posibilidad que se ha comenzado a escuchar es que Renault estaría en conversaciones con Prodrive para su proyecto bajo la insignia de Dacia. Todo indica que el año de lanzamiento para ese prototipo sería en 2025.

Imagen: Kin Marcin / Red Bull Content Pool

[racing-is-passion]

[triviallytrue]

The state of affairs in Palestine, 10/23/23

Conditions on the ground in Gaza continue to deteriorate. Gaza has no fuel, electricity, or clean water, and it remains under constant bombardment.

Humanitarian aid is beginning to make its way through the Rafah border crossing (Gaza's border with Egypt) but the current quantity is completely insufficient. There have been two convoys. The first convoy of 20 trucks contained enough water for 22,000 people, or ~1% of Gaza's population, for a single day. It's unclear what was in the second convoy, but it only had 17 trucks.

Israel continues to gear up for a ground invasion of Gaza. It's unclear what exactly they will do or what the end result will be, to the point that the US is calling on Israel to publicize its goals.

In the meantime, Israel has aggressively increased its air bombardment of Gaza. [CW for the header image on the red link: wounded young girl] This, along with the lack of fuel and supplies, is causing the complete collapse of the Gaza hospital system.

There is a very real risk of further escalation of the war. Israel has repeatedly raided and airstriked the West Bank and targets in Syria, continuously exchanged volleys with Hezbollah on the Israeli border with Lebanon, and hit the Egyptian border (allegedly by accident).

Protests around the world are rallying to bring attention and support to the Palestinian cause.

[semisolidmind]

(perhaps there's a certain sign, like a flash of light or the chime of a bell, that signifies readers' appearance in the monkey's world.)

and perhaps, it's been years, decades for the now-immortal monkeys, since they've seen their dear friend; that strange little human girl who would appear on their island home and dissapear with no explanation. 

perhaps, they've pushed all thoughts of her to the backs of their minds as they've grown older and more powerful. there's more important things to attend to, such as the successful raiding of a human settlement. the victorious shouts of their demon soldiers. the valuable assets they've gained from the looting. and taking those treasures home to their people on flower fruit mountain. the scent of blood and smoke fills the air, incense of the destruction left in the monkey warlords' wake.

the monkey king is an expert at rallying the bloodied demonic troops, and he would be remiss to not thank them for their service and allow them their cut of the spoils. macaque, on the other hand, is less verbose, preferring to stand in his brother's shadow and quietly take in their victory.

his superior hearing catches everything, and he senses a change in the air.

something's coming.

but he's not sure what, and he struggles to focus over the cacophony of the war party.

macaque steps away, following a growing feeling of...something, pulling him towards the unscorched treeline beyond the village's remains.

he silences his steps, following the feeling a ways into the woods. fruit trees grow wild around here, he offhandedly notes.

the light chime of a bell, and a quick flash of golden light, a short ways ahead of him. the sound of something hitting the forest floor...and a quiet, pained groan.

macaque steps forward into the clearing.

there's a human woman, lying on her side in the leaves beneath a peach tree. she holds her head as if it's hurting her.

she seems strangely...familiar.

the shadowy simian steps silently closer, curious.

he watches as she pushes herself up, one hand still pressed to the back of her head. he steps closer still, crouching on one knee next to her. she opens her eyes. he sees and feels her entire being freeze in fear. the naturally sadistic part of him takes pleasure in it.

wide doe-eyes, filling with scared, confused tears, meet slowly widening, poisonous violet hues. recognition flashes there.

"You." he breathes.

he knows those eyes, he'd know them anywhere.

she'd called his eyes pretty, once. he'd always thought the same of hers, though his child self was too shy to say so.

he belatedly realizes what a sight he must be; armored, fresh from battle, carrying his staff (he shadows it away when her eyes dart to it). he's covered in blood, and the smell of death and ash clings to him.

and for all his acquired charm, and despite his silver tongue...macaque can think of nothing else to say. his dear reader sits before him, in the flesh. she's beautiful...though clearly terrified and failing to hold in her tears.

it's unfortunate that all his years practicing death and destruction have dulled his ability to comfort. so he just...stares, taking her in. he can't stop himself from smiling just a tiny bit. it seems she's turned him shy again.

his ears twitch, and he hears wukong coming towards them; no doubt curious as to what has captured his brother's attention.

macaque finds himself oddly excited for his brother to see who's just been dropped back into their lives.

—

reader's breath comes quick and panicked. she doesn't know where she is. but there's a monster, a demon, so very close to her. she recognizes him, in some obscure part of her subconscious, as a grown, terrifying version of one of the little monkeys from her childhood daydreams.

the shy, dark-furred one with too many ears, she recalls blearily. there's little left of that boy in the warrior next to her. the red of his mask-like markings and the two crimson lines trailing from his mouth to just under his jaw are new, unsettling additions to his visage.

reality hits reader in waves. she can't move, she can't think, not moments ago she was in her home getting ready for bed like any normal evening and now—!

she has no idea where she is.

it doesn't seem like the island paradise from her memories, and everything around her feels too real, too solid and tactile for it to be a dream. the grass and leaves shift and rustle, the wind whispers, she smells...peaches? nearby, along with smoke and the unsettling metal tang of the blood clinging to her shadowy visitor. there's the sound of many distant voices, yelling and shouting with raucous joy, somewhere ahead of her. the light of a large fire cuts through the trees, red and yellow hues illuminating the leaves and blocking out the sparse stars of twilight.

it sounds like an army. and it looks like the end of a successful raid.

it doesn't take much to deduce that that's likely where her current...visitor, came from. by the looks of him, he might even be one of the leaders. his armour isn't flashy; a wickedly sharp-looking shoulder paldron half covered by a deep red scarf and cape, simple black and gold coverings beneath with small red accents to match. it all appears very...antiquated, but reader can't bring herself to focus on what region he's supposed to be from.

not as her panic continues to rise.

reader doesn't—she can't—she can't handle this. it can't be real. she made them up, made up their world and all its magic; everyone always said so! there's no way she's actually there, and there's no way the monster beside her actually exists.

but the feeling of his tail, black and sinuous, curling around her ankle, tears a sob from her throat. it just...feels too substantial, and she can't keep herself in denial. the responding low rumble from the monkey beside her (like he's trying to comfort her, as ridiculous as it sounds) causes another cascade of tears. 

reader jolts when she feels the demon's tail tighten slightly (it's a weirdly familiar gesture). she sees his ears twitch, and his eyes dart to the woods he came from.

someone's coming towards them.

reader is unprepared for the being that emerges from the trees.

he's clad in golden armor, its shine dulled by the blood streaked across it, and a tattered cape of the same crimson hue flutters behind him. the soot-stained feathers of his crown flow in his wake. he has a mask now too, the fang-like points on his cheeks decending into the fur framing his face, reminiscent of tears. a single, thick scarlet line spills from his bottom lip and dissapears under his chin. his red and gold eyes glow in the forest gloom, reminiscent of hellfire.

his fur is a horribly familiar shade of rusty orange.

reader feels like she's going to faint.

—

wukong wasn't sure why macaque had gone into the woods. after directing his soldiers to gather up any valuables they could find and start burning or cooking bodies, he decided he'd follow his brother and find out.

past the trees, he called out into the clearing. he sees his brother kneeling next to someone.

"Hey, Mac! Did'ya find a survivor or—"

he stills. not even his tail twitches.

there's no way.

he knows this human. would know her if he were blind, deaf, and in darkness. his best friend. the only one who ever really believed in him when he claimed he'd be the strongest one day.

reader.

it's unsettling to see such a boyish look of surprised joy slowly cross a face as fierce as the monkey king's, especially when it's still spattered in gore.

"It's you," he breathes, voice far too gentle for his visceral appearance. he steps quickly closer and joins his brother in a crouch on reader's opposite side, armor clanking on his way down.

she flinches away, and he moves a bit slower. wukong reaches a hand out to her face, curling his claws into his palm to brush his knuckles across her tear-stained cheek. the motion is tender, disbelieving. one ill-suited for a hand that causes mostly pain and death.

he unconsciously follows when she tries to move away; though macaque's tail, still clasped around her ankle, prevents her escape. the shadow general is still gazing at his quarry with soft eyes.

the monkey king smiles, baring fangs. "I thought we'd never see you again," he says wondrously. wukong catalogs every feature; soft hair, longer than when he last ran his claws through it, eyes still as pretty as ever, despite being wide with terror. she's changed, same as him.

he turns to his brother, still gently stroking reader's face.

"This day just keeps getting better, doesn't it?" wukong laughs. the sound feels wrong; too light-hearted to have come from a monster like him. macaque doesn't answer, but the small quirk of his lips is an agreement.

"There's so much we have to tell you, show you! The mountain is much more than it was, the monkey yao are prosperous and thriving, we've planted new orchards, the palace—we have a palace!—behind the waterfall is full of treasures; so much has changed! You've come back at the perfect time, you're going to love it there!" wukong rambles, his bright and excited tone clashing horribly with the coppery gore oxidating on his person.

"I'll take you there," macaque murmurs to reader, now covering her trembling hand with his.

"What?" wukong squawks. "No, I'm taking her! You've already got a head start, since you found her! You've been here for like, an hour already!"

"It's been barely ten minutes. And it's not like she's been very talkative, given the circumstances."

macaque looks to reader. her scared gaze is locked on his stupid, stupid older brother who can't seem to handle anything delicately—

"Besides, does she look up to traveling by cloud?" macaque gestures at a shaky and silently crying reader. she looks like she'd run if she thought she had a chance.

wukong would never say it, but his little brother has a point. poor reader is shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm. it's then that wukong finds some self awareness; he looks terrifying, which under any normal circumstances, he'd have no problem with. except...

reader has always been soft. she never liked when either of the brothers felt the need to hunt, never liked the sight of blood when they'd proudly show off some small animal they killed.

well. she doesn't need to know just how much blood they've stained their hands with since they last saw her.

"You should go finish up with the soldiers. I'll take her home and get her set up in the palace. She likely needs food, and a bath. Her clothes are...strange, and nowhere near warm enough. I'll be faster by shadow, anyway." macaque grouses.

he reaches under reader, gathering her in his arms as quickly and gently as he can. she shrieks, pushing against him as he stands. her breathing picks up as she struggles, tears falling harder and faster. the dark-furred demon isn't deterred, holding her closer. the difference in power is clear. there's nothing she can do to make him let go.

wukong stands as well, hands curling into fists. he wants to hold reader, too.

"Go. Do your job, your majesty," macaque drawls sarcastically. "We'll see you at home later."

the shadow general summons a portal, stepping into it. it melts closed behind him and his unwilling passenger, leaving no trace that either of them were ever there.

wukong pouts. he turns back towards the charred remains of his latest conquest and his awaiting army.

he hates it when mac is right.

—

[levyfiles]

some people are mad at steven for a moral issue, tbf. regardless of your thoughts on watcher’s streaming service he did still say he has racist and homophobic friends. he still goes to a homophobic church.

STEVEN LIM??? OF WATCHER ENTERTAINMENT??? HOMOPHOBIC???

I assume that you must have been recently introduced to The Pod Clip that the twitter teens who hate him preserved to break out whenever it's a fresh moment to rally hate against him, but I would advise anyone just receiving this clip from August 2020 being passed around with the angle that Watcher tried to hide this to examine the facts of the situation more critically.

I and many others were there when this all went down and just know that I have a zero tolerance standard for people who show no remorse or growth when they uplift racists and bigots so if this was true I would have been long gone from this fanspace.

Myself and other fans who were startled by the statement hoped publicly that it would be an opportunity to clear the air for Watcher because the current political climate was just finally examining anti-blackness in everyone's biases and as someone who is mixed-African growing up in an Asian household, I know that anti blackness is and has been a normalised mindset in the Asian community.

But the thing is, months before this, Steven platformed Tammy Cho and her colleagues to discuss how all of us can work together to stop Asian hate and one of the conversations I highlighted back then was how very clear Tammy was that allyship from the Asian community to the African-American community was tantamount to moving forward. That the us vs them rhetoric has and continues to be harmful for both parties. Ryan and Steven were very involved in this discussion and agreed wholeheartedly.

Having said that, the narrative around the podcast ep never had a chance to be discussed rationally. It really ended up skewed because Steven's response to the backlash from that clip was this

I hope that's legible to you. Many people who felt uneasy about what he said felt a lot better and his intention to say something at the top of the next episode would once again, unfortunately, get derailed because Twitter users (some who are particularly loud about loving and supporting Watcher yet constantly join in on the throng of bullying as soon as the tide turns) were adamant that they needed Watcher to post the clip and Steven's apology publicly on their youtube front page and on the main socials, to literally advertise it when the reality is that not many people were watching/listening to the podcast. For what reason would it be intelligent or good business practice to broadcast this hurtful moment so that more people could get hurt by it?

Watcher's response amid the harassment was to release a full podcast episode where they all discussed what they would do going forward to show that they are allies, not just by not being racist or homophobic but by being anti-these things. They showed that they cared about their impact. It was emotional and devastating to watch and by that time, we knew the pod was likely going to wind down. 2020 was already a miserable time and it was made worse because no matter what Steven or Watcher said at the time, the "stans" on Twitter wanted the man fired, they posted memes saying the world would be better if Steven Lim didn't exist, they wanted him shamed by his staff, and for Ryan and Shane to publicly disavow him. Many of these so-called devoted fans raided the server to yell about how Steven's alleged homophobia hurts them, most of them were white and pointedly talking over people of colour telling them "it's not your apology to accept!". It was a blood bath.

And I see waaaay too many of the same faces utilizing this completely neutral move--that of COURSE could have been executed better--to terrorize Steven, to make petitions to get him fired, commenting on his wedding photo telling him that Tammy should leave him, posting those same damn disgusting memes because you see, a whole bunch of people forgot how disgusting and evil this vendetta was to the point where even watcher's socials started to FOLLOW some of these genuinely mean-spirited individuals. They didn't give a shit about a movement or activism.

What kills me--what absolutely THROWS me--is that these same people expect to be able to return to interacting with the staff, attending live shows, buying merch and sending fan mail as soon as the hate tide winds down. All these people so concerned about a statement referencing faceless hypothetical racists and homophobes that Steven never named nor attributed any context for--as he was never given the chance--are so quick to dehumanize and caricaturize real human beings to their faces and they think this is a normal and acceptable behaviour.

You'll have to excuse me, as an older fan who has seen my fair share of normalised homophobia and racism in these communities, if I disagree.

[carsthatnevermadeitetc]

Dacia Sandrider Concept, 2024. Dacia plans to enter the Dakar Rally and the World-Rally Raid Championship (W2RC) from 2025 and have revealed a prototype for their campaign. Reflecting the brand's minimalist approach, the vehicle is fitted with body panels only considered as an absolutely necessity, there are no decorative or superfluous parts.

[homiesondaweb]

This is my theory piece on astv Hobie's Backstory.

Despite the whole Punk lifestyle, living on a repurposed canal boat, minor rock star status, and having active warrants out for both his civilian and Spidey persona thing he's got going on. Hobie had a pretty normal childhood for a bit. 

His Pa managed the local radio stations and his Ma was a lead writer for the newspaper. Hobie found himself the baby out of 5 siblings and their 4 bedroom flat was just a bit too small for the 7 people family but it was great. 

The neighborhood was always lively with community get-togethers, music rattled the bricks and the air was always savory with smell of jerk. Hobie used to eat himself sick with coconut candy and orange cake every weekend. He liked going to 'school' which meant being crammed into Ms. Ngozi and Ms. Freedman's flat with the other neighborhood kids then being taught from books Ms. Freedman had smuggled in when she partnered with Ms. Ngozi. Reading, writing, history, debate, arithmetic, ethics, journalism, all kinds of science but Ngozi loved when Hobie would take a machine apart and remake it. 

His eldest siblings by about 12 years, twin brothers Hudson and Hector ran the 'Shop'. If you needed something fixed within their 6 block neighborhood you took it there. Cars, big appliances, medical equipment, radios, tvs, his brothers could fix it all. They'd fix it good, cheap or free and in a timely manner. (And they greatly encouraged their Little Bart brother to tinker) 

Next was is other older brother, Henry. He was only 9 years older than him. A photographer and worked under their mother getting dynamic shots for any article she posted. He introduced Hobie to a lot of artists and taught him how to observe the world around him. How to sneak in and out of it.

Then there was his only sister, Harley. She was closest in age to him, only 5 years older. She was a badass on the guitar and even slicker at the mouth. She debated anyone under a table and had a right hook to back it up. You never would have pegged her to be the one to run the community garden. Not with her self-done piercings, bleach painted jackets, head fully of bantu knots and black lipstick. But she did, she taught Hobie everything to know about growing orchids and tomatoes.

Life was good. Despite the rising police violence, cost of living, and the fumes of Oscorp rising. 11 year old Hobie didn't know it to be anything else. 

Then, he turns 12. Ma and Henry don't come home.

He's 12 and the Ngozi-Freedman homeschool is raided. He never sees them again but Harley fills her stage trunk with their books and records.

He's 12. Someone reported the shop and President Osborne new "certificate enforcement" squad torches the building. Hudson gets away but the Symbiotes bail out Hector to them and he only has one arm. 

He's 12. The government has taken over the radio station, firing Pa. The house becomes cramped with the equipment Pa had smuggled out. Hudson shows back up and he's as ghost as Hector.

He's 12 and half his friends are just faces on murals and the other half is sick from the water. The garden is sabotaged and the city fines Harley (how the fuck do you fine a 17 year old?) 

And there's a protest. Pa has taken over the radios in the city and rallies the people, he repeats Ma articles over and over informing the people about the propaganda, the contamination, the disappeared people, the injustice. He repeats them and repeated them as the twins litter the city with flyers using Henry's photos of the truth. 

And there's a protest. 

There's hundred of protests of all sizes, all over.

There's a riot. 

There's riots.

There's fire and panic and Symbiotes spill into the neighborhood like oil and-

Hobie turns 13, it's just him and Harley. 

Hobie turns 14, it's just him and Harley's guitar.

Hobie is 15, he's just some punk kid bit by a radioactive spider while trying to find shelter from a Symbiote raid. He uses this to his advantage. 

He turns 16 and instead of blowing out birthday candles he's smashing Harley's guitar through a fascist dictator head with his fellow super powered punks. (He can't think of a better wish)

He's 17 and Miguel makes a mistake in showing up to his dimension with an offer to join his 'society'. 

[apicelladonna]

Some your middle-aged married Albus&Gellert headcanons?

Where to begin!? These are general musings whether they stayed together in another lifetime or met in secrets during the war.

Albus-Gellert middle aged married fellas let's go

Beverage of choice: Tea and black coffee (Gellert swears that he saw Albus dump a whole sugar bowl into his tea but still frowned and say it wasn't sweet enough for his liking)

Mornings: Albus is a early riser because of his morning classes while you couldn't wake Gellert (night owl) even if it there was a raid unless a necessity.

Bookmarks: Leaf pressed personalized bookmark gift from Elphias- Doesn't or it will crease the binds so he just remembers the page.

When mad: Cold silent anger - passive aggressive temper

Perspective roles: The Sword & The Pen

Love language: Acts of service - Words of encouragement

Favorite body part of their partner:

(Albus: Gellert's hands when they swing animatedly when he is very vocal with his afternoon rants. Or choke him)

(Gellert: Albus' blue eyes that sucked him deep into its trenches and he gladly drowned in them. Albus' plump bottoms/thy lovely peaches to behold)

Endearment

(Albus to Gellert): 'Dear boy', 'Darling' 'My Cherished Stars',

(Gellert to Albus): 'Schatz' 'Sonnenschein', Any of the languages he can speak that has the endearment close to 'Precious Treasure' he's said it-

Blood troth: Albus kisses Gellert's lips first then the troth, Gellert kisses the scar on Albus' hand first then their troth.

Public Displays of Affection (Albus): Discreet pinky finger holding, the shit you see in Bridgerton and more, says I love you to Gellert with his eyebrow scrunch-

PDA (Gellert): He is a damn peacock with what we've seen in the Lestrange Mausoleum rally where he just shines their blood troth for all to see that he's taken. Basically: This is my husband, have you read his research article regarding the advantages of not eight but twelve properties of Dragon blood? Astounding man he is. Too humble for himself. Here have a copy-

Bedroom intimacies: gone were the days of fiery passion of their youth, when they are in their own little world, when they are alone in their bedroom, a hotel room in europe or where ever Gellert's rallies or Albus' conference were, it was selfishness of the two combined to think they had the time to map out each other's skin, scars, freckles, and marks..

There is no urgency to reach a state of euphoria, each kiss and touch was already bliss in borrowed time.

They will argue for hours end about the most mundane things.

Gellert: Does Albus like me?

Vinda: You do know you are married to him?

Gellert: I know but does he LIKE me?

One time, both were dead tired from their perspective ordeals that they just collapsed on their bed still wearing their coats and shoes.

Clothes: Simple sweaters - vain bastard, only the best silk shirts (Gellert gets colorbinded the minute Albus' wardrobe turned into a variety of bright plum, yellow, and blue. What a way to go-)

Pastime : Discovered a fondness for knitting - Catch up on the books he bought years ago from various old libraries he'd been to in Europe

Godric's Hollow: Will always visit Bathilda for tea if they are in the area and then end their day by visiting and cleaning up Ariana's gravestone.

Favorite color:

(Albus) Gold

(Gellert) Blue

Feel free to add your own takes! Thank you again for this question! I'm sorry it took me long but I wanted to give it my all. Cheers!

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

One more time

A Positive Change Arc -- often called a Hero's Journey -- is one possible shape a story can take. It is not the only or the best character arc, it's just one option. In a Positive Change Arc, the protagonist begins the story believing the Thematic Lie, and must learn and embrace the Thematic Truth over the course of their journey.

TGCF and MDZS are not Positive-Change Arcs. They are Flat Arcs.

(I have not read SVSSS)

A Flat-Arc is a story where the protagonist begins already knowing the Thematic Truth, while the world around them believes the lie. In a Flat Arc, the protagonist will have their knowledge of the Truth challenged and tested, they will be tempted by the Lie, and they will ultimately use their conviction to inspire the world around them to also embrace the Truth.

Flat Arc characters do not need to learn the Thematic Truth. They already know it. They may be seduced by the lie, they may falter, but they will always rally back to the Truth in the end.

(If they ARE successfully converted to the lie, then that isn't a Flat Arc anymore, it's a Corruption Arc, and it's usually a tragedy.)

"But Xie Lian and Wei Wuxian learned--" Nothing they learned impacted the Thematic Truth. Did they learn things? Yes! That's how Being A Person works. Both of them DID change and grow as people from the start of the series to the end. But neither of them learned anything that impacted the Thematic Truth. Because they already knew it.

Xie Lian was already kind, he already wanted to help people, he already believed that common people should be protected and uplifted. His suffering at the hands of BWX did not teach him any deep or important lessons. He already knew the Truth. BWX tried to tempt him to embrace the lie -- that people are undeserving, that you should never do anything for anyone who won't grovel with gratitude, that caring for other people is a waste -- and failed, because Xie Lian knew the truth and even when he was at his lowest he was searching for confirmation that he was right. Xie Lian only needed one single act of kindness to reassure himself that he was right and BWX was wrong. He did not learn anything new, he reaffirmed what he already knew and understood.

Wei Wuxian is good, and righteous, and morally upright. He is a character who does the right thing regardless of the consequences he might face. The sects collectively wanted to destroy him because he refused to bow to them, not because he ever at any point actually did anything wrong. Even the vengefulness he showed while actively at war is narratively justified, and it's key that the sects did not care about the desecration of bodies while it served them. He did not learn any valuable or important lessons when the Sects raided the Burial Mounds. The fact that Lan Sizhui exists at all is proof for us as the audience that everything Wei Wuxian did was worth it. All of it mattered, and all of it was the right choice, because a-Yuan is alive. He doesn't come back to life having learned anything new, he already understood the Truth.

Obviously neither of them are Omnipotent. They learn that there's dudes in love with them, they solve the mysteries of their respective true Big Bads, they uncover some other stuff. But the Thematic Truth, the core theme of the story, is not a lesson either of them needs to learn. It is a lesson they teach others by refusing to bend to the Lie the rest of the world believes.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Not enough people on here talking about The Boy and the Heron doing for Imperial Japan what Pan’s Labrynth did for Spanish Fascism huh.

So they are both movies about a kid going into a fantasy world while fascism and violence is devastating our world around them. Del Toro makes the connection explicit by making the fascism of the real world extremely explicit and directly hostile to our protagonist. In The Boy and the Heron the war, militarism and it’s horrors are very much present - labor volunteers among elementary schoolers, patriotic parades of aging soldiers, the mention of the fall of Saipan (which brought down the government and made clear to those in power that Japan was doomed) those Zero cockpits and of course the ever present and unspoken horror of the firebombing of Tokyo, which runs through the film from the second you hear that air raid siren and see those embers falling through all the fire in the film.

But within the fantasy world we also have a cockatiel (?) “Duch” whose rallies looks like Mussolini and who acts like a Japanese militarist. Which is sinister and absurd and very funny. To say nothing of our protagonists war profiteer father charging in with a samurai sword and discovering that his antagonists are parakeets (and getting covered in bird shit). Indeed the Parakeets transforming into harmless birbs almost seems to be about the absurdity of fascism and militarism. In Pan’s Labrynth the fascists and militarists were the real monsters. In the Boy and the Heron they are ridiculous.

And then can we talk about how the tower that was built at the time of Meiji falls in 1944!?

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Imagine this: It’s exactly one year from today, Memorial Day weekend, 2025. It’s 94 degrees in the shade, but the fact that the world keeps shattering monthly temperature records isn’t even making the news — and that’s not what has Philadelphians so hot and bothered. It’s been about two months since Donald Trump, the 47th president of the United States, announced Operation Purify America in an Oval Office address, and about a week since a stunned Philadelphia watched an endless convoy of militarized vehicles and federalized troops from the Texas and South Dakota National Guards roll up I-95. After a week of setting up a base camp at the Air National Guard base in Horsham, the actual operation began at midnight the day before, as a parade of Humvees and armored personal carriers cornered off a wide area in Philadelphia’s Hunting Park section and supported federal immigration agents who went door-to-door in the predawn chaos, bursting into homes and asking Latino residents for their papers. Journalists who’d been kept blocks away by the troops now search for anyone who could confirm the rumors of screaming, scuffling, and dozens of arrests. As the hot sun rises, Mayor Cherelle L. Parker, Gov. Josh Shapiro, and several hundred angry protesters gather outside the Horsham gate to denounce the raids. A phalanx of helmeted troops pushes the throng back, firing tear gas to clear the road for the first busload of detained migrants. They are bound for the hastily erected Camp Liberty, an already overcrowded and decrepit holding center on the Texas-Mexico border that Amnesty International calls “a concentration camp.” This might sound like a page from the script of Alex Garland’s next near-future dystopian movie, but it’s actually a realistic preview of the America Trump himself, his cartoonishly sinister immigration guru Stephen Miller, and the right-wing functionaries crafting the 900-page blueprint for a Trump 47 presidency called Project 2025 are fervently wishing for. As polls show Trump in a dead heat nationally with President Joe Biden, and poised to win at least some of the battleground states where Biden was victorious in 2020, the presumptive GOP nominee is making no secret of his scheme for what he calls “the Largest Domestic Deportation Operation in History.” The audacious goal of tracking down and deporting all 11 million or so undocumented immigrants living and working within the United States is, experts agree, all but impossible. But even the forced removal of hundreds of thousands, or one million, would require a massive internal military operation on a scale not seen since the Civil War and Reconstruction. [...] What’s changed in 2024? Everything. Despite the Hannibal Lecter-ized outward chaos of Trump’s rallies, behind the scenes, Team Trump is focused and determined not only to name the most rabid Trump loyalists to key political posts but also todramatically strip civil service protections andremove recalcitrant midlevel government employees. And this time around, Republicans in Congress are going to be on board with whatever Trump wants. [...] It was somewhat amazing to watch the furious debate online and on cable news this week over the weird incident in which small text about a “unified Reich” found its way into a Trump promo video the ex-and-wannabe president posted on Truth Social. The perplexing part, for me, is that this was discussed as some kind of Sherlock-Holmes-magnifying-glass a-ha moment, revealing Trump’s secret plan for Nazi-style rule. Folks, he is screaming his plan out loud at his rallies! The Trump deportation scheme is really Trump’s blueprint for dictatorship.

Will Bunch at The Philadelphia Inquirer on how Donald Trump's proposed deportation plan is a pretext for a fascist MAGA dictatorship (05.23.2024).

Will Bunch nails it in this Philly Inquirer column on how Donald Trump's fascistic plan for mass deportations is a speed-run for a MAGA dictatorship.

[crosscountryrally]

Hernán Garcés y Juan Pablo Latrach fueron terceros en el Abu Dhabi Desert Challenge

En una actuación de consistencia y rendimiento, la dupla chilena de Hernán Garcés y Juan Pablo Latrach consiguió la tercera posición en el Abu Dhabi Desert Challenge, segunda fecha del Mundial de Rally Raid FIA W2RC. Garcés y Latrach alcanzaron la tercera posición ya en la primera etapa y lograron sostenerla hasta el final del rally, donde muchos de los otros T3 enfrentaron adversidad.

El evento lo ganó Seth Quintero sacándole 27 minutos y 45 segundos a Austin Jones. Garcés quedó a 56 minutos y 28 segundos.

En los autos, el ganador fue Yazeed Al-Rajhi por delante de Martin Prokop. Este resultado mantiene abierto el Mundial, con Loeb todavía primero en los puntos.

[racing-is-passion]

Loeb and Gutierrez for Dacia in Dakar 2025!

Dacia announced that they will participate as a works team in the Rally Dakar 2025. Their drivers ill be the nine times rally world champion Sebastien Loeb, who was racing for Prodrive and Peugeot during the past years. His teammate will be Cristina Gutierrez who won two stages in the T3 lightweight class at this years Rally Dakar. Both are also racing as teammates for Lewis Hamilton's team in the ExtremeE series and won the title in 2022.

The new Dacia car will be developed and build by the english Prodrive team that is also responsible for the great Prodrive Hunter that Sebastien Loeb, Nani Roma and Guerlin Chicherit were driving.

[mads-nixon]

100th Bomber Boys: Major Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal: Pt. 1

Ahead of the show's release, I bought Donald Miller's book and am reading it! Here is a little bit about Major Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal (played by Nate Mann) from the prologue of Masters of the Air (pg. 13-14)!

Lt. Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal had not trained with the Hundredth's original crews. He and his crew had been assigned to the group that August from a replacement pool in England, to fill in for men lost on the Regens-burg raid. "When I arrived, the group was not well organized," Rosenthal recalled. "They were a rowdy outfit, filled with characters. Chick Harding was a wonderful guy, but he didn't enforce tight discipline on the ground orin the air." Rosenthal didn't fly a mission for thirty days. "No one came around to check me out and approve me for combat duty. Finally, my squadron commander, John Egan, had me fly a practice formation. I flew to the right of his plane. I had done a lot of formation flying in training and I was frustrated; I desperately wanted to get into the war. I put the wing of my plane right up against Egan's, and wherever he went, I went. When we landed, Egan told me he wanted me to be his wing man." Rosenthal had gone to Brooklyn College, not far from his Flatbush home. An outstanding athlete, he had been captain of the football and baseball teams, and later was inducted into the college's athletic hall of fame. After graduating summa cum laude from Brooklyn Law School, he went to work for a leading Manhattan law firm. He was just getting started in his new job when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. The next morning he joined the Army Air Corps. He was twenty-six years old, with broad shoulders, sharply cut features, and dark curly hair. A big-city boy who loved hot jazz, he walked, incongruously, with the shambling gait of a farmer, his toes turned inward and there wasn't an ounce of New York cynicism in him. He was shy and easily embarrassed, but he burned with determination. "I had read Mein Kampf in college and had seen the newsreels of the big Nazi rallies in Nuremberg, with Hitler riding in an open car and the crowds cheering wildly. It was the faces in the crowd that struck me, the looks of adoration. It wasn't just Hitler. The entire nation had gone mad; it had to be stopped. "I'm a Jew, but it wasn't just that. Hitler was a menace to decent people everywhere. I was also tremendously proud of the English. They stood alone against the Nazis during the Battle of Britain and the Blitz. I read the papers avidly for war news and listened to Edward R. Murrow's live radio broadcasts of the bombing of London. I couldn't wait to get over there. "When I finally arrived, I thought I was at the center of the world, the place where the democracies were gathering to defeat the Nazis. I was right where I wanted to be." Rosie Rosenthal didn't share these thoughts with his crewmates, simple guys who distrusted what they called deep thinking. They never learned what was inside him, what made him fly and fight with blazing resolve. Later in the war, when he became one of the most decorated and famous fliers in the Eighth, word spread around Thorpe Abbotts that his family was in a German concentration camp. But when someone asked him directly, he said "that was a lot of hooey." His family-mother, sister, brother-in-law, and niece (his father had recently died) were all back in Brooklyn. "I have no personal reasons. Everything I've done or hope to do is strictly because I hate persecution... A human being has to look out for other human beings or else there's no civilization."

Rosie was part of the 'Bloody 100th' Bombardment Group of the 13th Combat Wing, of the 'Mighty Eighth' Air Force with John 'Bucky' Egan and Gale 'Buck' Cleven (played by Callum Turner and Austin Butler) His plane was called Rosie's Riveters, and him and his crew were an integral part of the bombardment group.

On October 8th, 1943, the 100th went on a bombing run to Bremen, Germany, and Buck Cleven was shot down. Two days later, Egan and the rest of the 100th went on a supposedly "easy" mission to Münster, accompanied by P-47 Thunderbolts almost all the way to the target. Rosenthal and his crew were not flying their beloved Rosie's Riveters due to damage from their two previous missions in Bremen and Marienburg. Instead, they flew Royal Flush.

Rosie's crew was worried about flying a brand new plane, and became incredibly nervous. Bringing them together under one of the wings, he calmed the boys down and lifted their spirits. This mission proved disastrous, and Royal Flush was the only one in the 100th to make it back to Thorpe Abbotts (the 100th's air-base in East Anglia).

Needless to say, I love Rosie already!! I've read up to chapter 6, and I feel like my brain is going to explode with all the information I've taken in :3

lmk if y'all want more posts like this one or would like to be tagged in them!!

[faewild-moonchild]

You become what would have saved you.

Katara lost her mom. It tore her world apart. Being told her whole life it was scary, but they'd be okay if they were together. She tried to become what Kya left behind, a dependable maternal figure who holds the whole world together. But if, when the raid happened, had she not been 8 years old, and stronger and braver, she could've fought and it might've ended differently. Katara grows, and learns how to fight, and faces her deepest emotions. She goes to war, she rallies crowds, she does things because she feels like they're the right thing, just like her dad.

And Sokka lost his mom too, and his dad, and his sister and his tribe. Kya wasn't the end for Sokka, she was the beginning. He tried to become what Hakoda needed, a fearless warrior, who could take on a whole ship single handed. But none of this would have to happen if the world wasn't so cruel to wage war for 100 years. Sokka grows, unlearns hateful lessons, overcomes loss after loss with grace. He goes to war, he keeps his kids safe, he goofs off and plans meticulously to make sure everyone's alright, just like his mom.

Do you ever think they'll look at the other one day and go "oh, oh, it's you. You saved me"