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#and january has been relatively fine. i mean the bar is on the ground
livvyofthelake · 2 years
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the way i have to go to. classes. on tuesday. that’s so fucked up are you kidding
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catherinestuart · 4 years
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HSHQ TASK TWELVE —– TIMELINE for the wretched woman who has fallen (thrice)
APRIL 25TH 1993
crown princess mary gave birth to her first child in the dead of night, and early after sunrise, the town crier appeared in front of holyrood palace to deliver the good news: princess catherine, countess of carrick, had been born. later that day, a special mass was said asking for health and prosperity to the newest addition to the royal family.
MARCH 9TH 2000
they keep telling her that she’s important and that she needed to excel in her studies. so when margot was given permission to read books in the library instead of learning french, catherine solemnly kept her head bowed towards her textbooks. but because she had been good, and she could count backwards from ten in french, her papa had prepared a surprise for her out in the stables. her first pony was called briallen, the welsh word for primrose, and the princess took to riding whenever she could.
JULY 19TH 2005 [ FEAT. @matildastuarts, @margotstuarts, @hrhhans ]
hans had taken to telling ghost stories late at night in the children’s rooms at charlottenburg palace, making matilda and karoline cry throughout the night since they were too terrified to sleep. in the morning after they had breakfast with their governesses, he managed to lock margaret in a dark closet. it was the first time that catherine punched someone in the face, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
SEPTEMBER 21ST 2008
at fifteen years old, catherine stood solemnly in the first row pews to the right of the altar alongside her family. her mother was now queen, scarcely a week after they buried her grandfather -- and the young princess held her grandmother’s hand as she held her breath when the monarch’s coronet was placed upon her mother’s head. her grandmother squeezed her hand, as if to say ‘one day it will be you’. her heart stuttered, as if in fear, and she never looked at anything the same way again.
DECEMBER 1ST 2010 [ FEAT. @artwindsor ]
catherine was seventeen, arthur was eighteen, and they both dreamt of a world that might unite their two countries. so they whispered to each other promises that they wont keep, and locked their hearts away in favour of something altogether more tangible: power.
JUNE 14TH 2011
the girls in finishing school had whispered about this boy for ages, and a palpable groan had been heard when he announced that he would not be escorting any one of them during the presentation. but catherine had almost laughed, for she found herself gracefully gliding across the shiny ballroom floor of the newly opened hazelton club in the arms of the same lord theodore innes-ker. at least now she could show those social climbers what a rough little girl from gordonstoun could do. “theo, if i may suggest, you should ask phoebe drummond to dance the viennese waltz with you- she’s absolutely the best of the class and i do know for a fact that she has her eye on you!” yes, she did have her eye on him -- in an embarrassingly obvious sort of way -- but the girl had always managed to trip over herself after the fourth count. maybe that’ll teach the precocious girl not to underestimate a stuart.
MAY 13TH 2013 [ FEAT. @ennioeste ]
“where were you?” catherine had woken up alone, the space where he held her throughout the night had been long cold, leaving her slightly bereft. she thought that she was far too young to be dealing with this, scarcely twenty, and already sounding like someone she’d rather not be. ennio stood up a little straighter, but even from the distance she could see his bloodshot eyes, the strange gait that she had no choice but to be accustomed to. “nowhere, i just got coffee from that nice place we like by the-” she interjected, suddenly feeling tired despite a relatively decent night’s sleep. “don’t bother, ennio... you can do what ever you want- i have to go to class.” so catherine slipped out of bed, took off his comfortable shirt she had on, and got ready for the day -- just a little too lovestruck to leave him completely, that is, until today.
JULY 3RD 2014 [ FEAT. @frvncicc ]
she first saw him when they passed each other in the hallways of the palace. her, in her riding habit after taking a spin around the grounds, and him, in a finely pressed suit and tie on his way to meet her mother. “that’s the prince of spain,” isla, her lady-in-waiting, whispered as he turned the corner. “the crown prince of spain,” clara, her other lady-in-waiting, supplied, with a little grin playing upon her lips. “her majesty is having him over to talk trade deals in person, but i heard from her assistant that she wants to push him towards one of your sisters!” catherine frowned instinctively, and she didn’t quite know why. it wasn’t as if she was hoping to jump into another relationship, especially one as improbable as being with a crown prince! that night when the queen introduced her guest to her eldest daughter, fresh out of university, catherine felt his eyes upon her and knew she was a goner.
MARCH 7TH 2016 [ FEAT. @giorxcci, @mimidbg ]
her friends had dragged to the bar, just barely, after their last in-class mid-term. they were a cacophony of royals, higher nobility, and several social climbers jammed into the corner booth of an oxford student bar. “gio- gio! what is this?” catherine held out the shallow glass of god-knows-what in front of her friend’s eyes. the italian prince laughed, motioning vaguely for her to ‘just drink it!’ before the stunning blonde next to him quipped, just a little louder than the raucous volume of the student bar they were sat in: “it’s not poisoned, darling! it’s from the most expensive bottle of scotch for our most expensive scot!” she had to laugh at that, and after shooting the monegasque princess a sarcastically withering look, the scot took the shot in one.
SEPTEMBER 2ND 2017
it was the first time she saw her mother in full regalia quite like this, right on the centre of the receiving platform as she looked up at the features that were mirrored in her own. it was difficult not to be humbled when one was kneeling in front of one’s sovereign, weighed down by a velvet robe and centuries of history. “i, catherine, duchess of rothesay, do become your liege of life and limb and of earthly worship, and faith and truth i will bear unto thee, to live and die against all manner of folks.” she was robed in her own regalia, a duchess’ coronet placed upon her head, and the look that her mother gave her said: ‘your next one will be far more grand.’
NOVEMBER 29TH 2017
england was going to implode into itself, and catherine decided it wasn’t in her best interest to associate herself with any arthur windsors -- even in secret.
JANUARY 25TH 2020 [ FEAT. @beaufort-a ]
catherine sat across the table from her fiancé, the hum of the airplane beneath their feet -- as she flicked through the latest issue of ‘international political science review’. “i can go with you,” his voice broke through her reverie, making her look up from her page. “to the taping, i mean -- i we could do it together.” she smiled then, mentally going through their schedules. “we’re keeping it pretty jam-packed for you, though, don’t you have the meeting with the lord chancellor over dinner? we’re anticipating that it’ll run late.” he hummed, a quiet lull as he thought it all through. “i’ll still pick you up then, shake some hands and get photographed coming out of the building with you... can’t have them thinking that you’re speaking for me without my consent.” she rolled her eyes good-naturedly at that, earning her a low chuckle from him.
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wandering-jax · 5 years
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Voodoo - Part One
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“Your usual?” A gruff voice in a creole accent asked. I cut my gaze toward the voice. A look I had given him for the past two years, every third week of the month, around this time in the evening. The old man poured me a whiskey neat and had number two ready. He knew my name even though I’d never given it. I had made my way through the city block by block but always ended up in the French Quarter. Lafitte’s to be exact. Just two blocks from the home I purchased not long after landing here.
It was January of 2017 when I touched down in New Orleans. The information on the flight log from three days prior showed the time the jet landed at the municipal airport just outside the city. It sat on the tarmac for exactly 48 hours before it took off for home, in Vegas, minus one passenger. The only passenger.
Money had been exchanged to keep it from my ears but that only lasted as long as the plane was in the air. The moment the doors opened and only the pilot and steward disembarked, I knew. How did I know? I was there, watching from inside the hanger, unprepared for the surprise news the pilot gave.
“Mr. Kingston, Madden isn’t on the manifest. He didn’t come back and didn’t give a reason. I was told when we landed that you were unaware.” The pilot said before shooting a menacing look at the steward who was already inside the glass doors and nearly running for the exit. “Do you want me to stop him?”
“No. When is the last time you physically saw Madden?” I asked.
“Not since we arrived in Louisiana two days ago. The crew changed as you know and the new guy who just tore ass out of here told me upon landing that you didn’t know the plane was empty.” The pilot held my gaze which spoke volumes to how honest he was. Besides, I paid him well to keep me informed at all times. No matter what.
“I see.” My eyes moved beyond the weary lines around the pilots eyes to the jet sitting on the runway still. “Give me a moment before you put her away, understood?”
I had searched that plane from top to bottom. It was if Madden had never been on it. Which led me to New Orleans to find out for myself. What I found was a littering of clues that led to various possibilities. None of which I liked.
The bar was relatively empty this evening but in the dead of summer, it wasn’t a rare event. The heat coupled with the humidity made the air feel as if you slid it on like a coat. I hated it. My skin itching for the dry climate of my desert. I tapped on the bar to signal it would be the same and a glass with three fingers of Bourbon was slid over to me.
“My grandson might be able to help you.”
I looked up to see the silver haired man staring at me, “I don’t remember asking.”
“Maybe not but you need the help, Mr. Kingston.”
I swallowed down a drink and the glass hit the bar with more force than necessary. He knew my name even though I’ve never offered it to him. In fact, the only ones to address me by any name were those who are in my employ while in town. That was the entire reason behind buying the home under the name of a smaller company I own. The realtor, my barber, and the assistant I hired to keep up the home were the only company I kept. I stayed silent.
“He drove the man you’re looking for from the airport to a home just outside of the city. But you don’t care,” he said flatly. The old man went back to rearranging the same bottles he had fiddled with not five minutes ago as if he hadn’t thrown out the bait for me to snap onto.
“Fine.” I shrugged him off. I had been in this bar too many times to count and he had never once addressed me outside of his ‘what’ll it be’ and now he has a grandson who happened to know where I can find Madden or at least a solid lead while I’ve been chasing my own tail this entire time. The rage settled in my gut nicely while I continued to nurse the drink in front of me.
“Don’t let him dangle that carrot for too long, he enjoys the chase,” a voice behind me uttered. I didn’t make a move to look, there was no need, whoever is looking for me had found me. “Seriously, Pops doesn’t mean any harm. I came to him when I saw you in here last month. Name’s Nik.” The man stuck out a hand and I turned my head to the side to see who was encroaching on my personal space. Tall, dark hair and eyes, yet unconventional in his handsomeness. I ignored the hand but nodded to the chair beside me.
“Let me guess, the grandson who happens to Uber for a living?” I cut my eyes over to the man who was now seated beside me. He didn’t look uncomfortable there either. The bartender sat a cold beer in front of him and left us alone.
“That’s me but not an Uber. A friend of a friend.” Nik swallowed a drink from his beer.
“I see. And who is the friend?” I asked.
Nik shook his head. “Not an important part of the story, Mr. Kingston. But I do know where he went and how long he stayed until going ghost.”
The way he said my formal title made my skin crawl. “My name is Jax, Nik. Please refrain from calling me anything else.” I finished my drink off and signaled to the bartender I was done for the night.
“When you remember the friend that you so kindly helped out, let me know.” I set a matte black card with my name and cell number in red on the bar in front of Nik. “But not until then. Have a good evening.”
“1012 Royal St. You acquired the home from a well known family and hired Louis Parker as caretaker when you go home to Vegas.” Nik spoke with certainty. “Madden came home nearly three years ago and you’ve been looking for him ever since. I can help but only when you want it. Jax.” He said my name as if he’d said it before. As if we were friends.
“I assure you,” I began but when I turned around Nik was gone. His grandfather looked unaffected by the rush disappearance and was dealing with another wave of tourists visiting the historical bar. That was my cue. I was by far a local but I also wasn’t wearing a ‘The Bride’ sash or a horde of brightly colored beads either. I felt a familiarity in New Orleans that only grew with each weekend that I spent here. The rich history, the slow pace compared to the neon glow of Vegas, the warmth of her people. And the architecture. From the high, wrap around balconies to the moss covered stucco, the columns and nods to the victorian era, it wasn’t hard to fall in love with it.
The unknown was part of the charm of New Orleans or so I thought. It was easier to get lost in ghost stories and vampire lore than the dramatics beginning to unfold. Uncertainty and I were not good bedfellows.
Once at the house I left the ground floor parlor to the quiet of the second floor where Louis concentrated on the MacBook perched in his lap, stocking feet up on the century old coffee table, stark white headphones keeping my presence concealed for the time being. He was in his twenties, I think, I couldn’t recall the exact number but when I hired him …. I didn’t care. It was his shoulder length dirty blonde hair and sapphire eyes that held my attention at first and then his attention to detail, which came later. I could be quite shallow. Right now Louis was laser focused on whatever was on the screen, his eyes flickering back and forth as fast as his nimble fingers.
I left him there for now and went up one more flight to the second largest of the rooms. It wasn’t the Master but it was the one with the best view. Having lived above The Strip for long softened me to street noise and lights. It made anything less almost impossible to sleep next to. So as the street music crept through the open balcony doors I let my thoughts drift to Nik. A stranger who happened to find me at exactly the right time, in the right place and say the right things. I was unnerved. I should have brought a pet with me. Kloe. One of the house submissives. Anyone.
There was a breaking point for everyone, including me and I had reached it.
“Louis!” I shouted. “Upstairs. Now!”
#TheRedDoorsWrite
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sol1056 · 6 years
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S7: both here and there, pt1
The best word for S7 --- from a data standpoint --- is polarizing. 
The datasets have been pretty volatile, and that’s telling in and of itself. I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the earliest Rotten Tomatoes’ score for S7, at 13%. As word spread, I’m not kidding when I say I gleefully refreshed every five minutes to watch the votes jump up another 200 or so --- while the actual score inched upwards like molasses in January.
Crowd-sourced ratings --- Rotten Tomatoes, IMDB, Yelp, Good Reads, Amazon, etc --- aren’t unknown quantities anymore. We know the first round of reviews, the majority of the time, will produce the highest ratings. After that, it’ll slowly drop until it reaches an equilibrium (when a few votes could no longer tip the score). A break in that established pattern --- of the low votes coming in first --- is a bad sign. Displeased viewers are more likely to just turn off; it takes shit getting real --- or  personal --- to get action from the angry ones.  
A little context: the first 200 or so votes had an average of about 1.9, which is beyond abysmal. If it’d been a 2.5 to 3.0, that’d signal dislike. 1.9 is verging on serious rage --- and every time someone put out the cry that the average wasn’t climbing fast enough, it simply drew more attention to the developing schism.
S7 now has 2758 votes, 1.4 times more than S1-S6 put together. The fandom moved at a fever pitch, and many of those calls were exhorting fans to vote a flat 5. To still only get a 3.9 average means almost 700 people gave the season the lowest possible score. That’s one-quarter of the viewing populace. One-quarter. 
Let’s hypothesize the first 250 or so votes were a single cranky group. If everyone else was generally happy to give 4s or 5s, S7 would be at 91% with a 4.2 average. Without access to the actual breakdown, the only conclusion is that there was no single negative push. The anger continued, even as a larger group tried to cloak that anger with inflated values. 
And that’s just the simplest example of polarization and volatility I’m seeing in every dataset, which is why I waited a bit longer to report in. As a warning, there is no single value to say this season was good or bad; we’re going to have to consider all the data in context before we can pass judgment. 
We’ll start with the usual datasets to get a sense of estimated viewership and audience engagement and get the broad strokes. In the follow-up I’ll get into more datasets that will round things out for a fuller picture.
an explanation about Netflix ratings
For those of you just tuning in, Netflix is a black box. They never share the specific viewership data, and even the ‘trending’ is calculated based on the viewer + other various data. (Your trending on Netflix is not automatically the same list as someone else’s.) The few times anyone’s tried to capture viewing data, naturally Netflix swears the numbers are all wrong. 
The closest we can come is Wikipedia’s page analysis, which apparently correlates to Neilson ratings. That means we’re extrapolating that we could expect the same behaviors from viewers for digital shows. These aren’t the ‘real’ viewer numbers, but that’s fine. I’m using them for comparison, after all, so what really matters is the change, not the total. 
a note about the two core datasets
The wikipedia dataset and the google dataset are essentially measuring audience engagement. The drawback is that past 90 days, google’s dataset is combined into weeks, plus it’s relative. To compare multiple seasons, I’m stuck with by-week values. I prefer wikipedia’s dataset for this finer-grained look, because I can get down to the day.
However, I’ve taken the two datasets, merged by week, and compared. They map almost exactly, with a caveat, The release-week values for wikipedia are always higher than google’s by around 5%, and the between-release lull values on google are higher than wikipedia’s by about the same. The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle, but without actual numbers from google, eyeballing is it probably good enough for my purposes.
post-release tails comparison
A little over two weeks in, first thing is we check the tails, which are a measure of how long engagement lasts after a season’s release. There’ll be a peak, and then interest will taper off until it hits a threshold, usually the level of audience engagement in the lull between seasons. Sometimes, the tail is relatively flat and long (ie S6). In others, the tail is a bit steeper, indicating a quick drop-off (S3-S5). But it’s also a factor of how high the peak reached, in that some seasons will have farther to go (S1, S2) before reaching that lull threshold where the ‘tail’ ends.  
After S6 (yellow line) reversed the falling trend, S7 (dashed green line) is following the same path. If you were expecting a tremendous rise (or fall), you’d be disappointed; the surprise in S7 is that it has no surprises in this dataset. It’s holding the line established by S6, albeit at a higher engagement rate.
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This graph takes the above, and adjusts so the peaks are equalized. Now we can see the tails in a better comparison. 
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S7 wobbles in equal measure to balance out S6; the most we could say is that S7 is holding the line. It neither gained, nor lost. Because the two graphs above are daily, there’s a bit of noise. To streamline that, we’ll take the same data but gathered into weeks (Friday to following Thursday, as releases are always Friday). 
comparing the first four weeks of every season
Here we’re comparing the totals for the first week of all seven seasons, then the second week, etc. (S7′s data is incomplete for the 3rd week, so that green bar will probably increase.) 
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Even here, there are some interesting details hiding in the data. Basically, the rate at which S6 built on S5 is pretty close to the rate on which S7 is building on S6. And the fact is... that’s not how multi-seasons stories usually work. 
comparing viewership peaks across seasons
As comparison, this is google’s interest over time tracker for House of Cards:
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If a series is expected to go out with a bang, there's usually a spike for the final season, but all the seasons before will steadily degrade, and often by a regular percentage. A quick comparison of several multi-season, serial, shows (Orange is the New Black, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Stranger Things, Daredevil, TrollHunters) seems to indicate the House of Cards pattern would be considered a successful show. Whenever it peaks, about 20% of those viewers will drop out, and after that, the numbers hold mostly steady, with perhaps a 5-10% drop at most. (Trollhunters breaks this mold with a 50% drop for S2, and a finale that almost matches its S1 peak.) 
With that in mind, let’s look at the rate of change from one point to another: the peak of season A to the peak of season B. They’re floating so you can see better how the drop from one affected the next. 
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After S1, 31% of the audience dropped VLD. Of the remainder, 20% quit after S2; after S3, a further 20% didn’t come back for S4. This is where you can see S4's damage: 28% didn’t come back for S5. All told, between S1 and S5, 68% of the viewers quit the show. If VLD had been a Netflix original, S5 would have been its last season.
But thanks to marketing or hype, 17% of those lost viewers returned for S6, which in turn influenced the return of 22% more viewers for S7. None of the other shows had a mid-series rise, let alone a second increase. Viewership hasn’t caught back up to the levels after S2, though, but if I were to say any point turned around the sinking ship, it’s clearly S6.  
It’s too soon to say whether S7 will take that further, or if S7 is just holding onto the lead S6 put in place. We won’t really know that until S8.
weekly rate of change to see patterns
Some of the seasons peaked on the 2nd or 3rd day, so I started from that point; starting on the release date (with lower numbers) would camouflage that peak and defeat the purpose of this comparison. The question here is: can we see a pattern in viewership engagement over the first month after a release? 
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With rate of change, the smaller the drop, the lower the difference. Frex, look at the 3rd and 4th weeks of S5. The difference between weeks 3 & 4, and weeks 4 & 5, is only 1%. That means the engagement level was dropping at a steady rate across those weeks. 
Now you can see the real damage: S4. Basically, a week after S4′s release, 78% of the audience checked out. Next to that, S5 regains a tiny bit of ground, and S6 increased that. So far, S7 is holding steady with S6. 
Again, S7 hasn’t lost ground, but it hasn’t really gained, either.
pre- and post-season context: measuring hype
What none of these graphs show, so far, is the context of each season. For that, we need to look across all the seasons. Again to reduce the noise (but not so much it’s flattened), I’ve collected days into weeks, starting on friday, ending the following thursday. The release week is marked with that season’s color.  
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I know it’s kinda hard to see, here, sorry. To throw in a different dataset for a moment, here’s a simple track of all searches for ‘voltron legendary defender’ from May 2018 to now. 
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This pattern echoes across several other datasets, btw. There’s a spike for S6, which never entirely drops off, and then we get a second spike for the premiere at SDCC. (Which is also the first time a between-season premiere has skyrocketed like that.) After SDCC, the base level stays high. 
In other words, does S7 appear as a larger spike because it began from a higher base rate? How do we compare season-to-season, when one starts at a radically elevated position compared to the rest?
The question became how to untangle hype from viewer reaction to the season. Here’s the viewership levels for S5, S6, and S7, again consolidated into weeks. 
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After S5, things dropped pretty low. A week before S6, reviews, a trailer, and some wacky marketing hijinks lured a lot of people back in. Two things happened between S6 and S7 that are worth noting. 
The first, two weeks after S6, was the announcement that Shiro was no longer a paladin, and his link with Black had been severed. This weekly graph blurs the details slightly, but the drop you see in the next two light-gray columns actually starts the day after that announcement. 
The second gray bar is SDCC, where S7E1 premiered. In the gap between then and the week before release, the levels drop back to the new (higher) baseline. Excitement was high, propelling audience engagement. If hype is meant to increase engagement, and these datasets are capturing the same thing to some basic degree, there’s a value in what the pre-season week and post-season week could be telling us. 
the narrative in the data
If the week-prior is high, it means audiences are engaged due to pre-season marketing, trailers, rumors, and reviews. If the week-after is high, it means audiences are excited and engaging directly with the show itself. In other words, you could say week-prior measures how much people are buzzing or getting ready, and week-after measures how much they’re re-watching or encouraging others to watch.
For S1 and S2, the week-prior was really low. After S1 there was a splash in October, but not big enough to keep energy up through to S2. Both S1 and S2 had much higher week-after rates. The simplest reason would be that people who’d seen the season were now talking about it and raising buzz on their own, thus propelling further engagement. 
Until S7, S3 had the highest week-prior engagement --- and the first time there was a drop, comparatively, in the week-after. S4 follows that trend, with a much larger drop. S5′s before and after are close to equal, which to me says that whatever excitement was ginned up prior, the season didn’t have much of an impact one way or another. It feels almost apathetic, actually. 
S6 reverses the trend; people went into it barely more excited than they had been after finishing S5, but for the first time since S2, there was a post-release rise. Audiences were engaged again. Even with the drop from the post-season news, it wasn’t so far SDCC couldn’t rocket it back up again. But if you look at the graph above for S7, once again there’s a slight drop in the week-after. 
Given the level of week-prior excitement (especially with the SDCC spike still fresh in people’s minds), the lack of post-season buzz is noticeable. 
To get a better look, I’ve isolated the rate of change for each season, comparing week-prior and week-after. S1 and S2 had such extreme amounts (744% and 156% increases, respectively) that it torqued the entire graph. I’ve left them off so we can focus on S3 through S7. 
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After S3, engagement dropped by 9%, indicating a less-enthused audience after seeing the season. S4 went further, dropping by 27%. S5 managed a small increase of 4%, and S6 increased engagement by 18%. 
S7 has a 2% drop. Not as bad as S3′s, but nowhere near the huge spike we should’ve seen, had the pre-season hype been borne out in the season itself. That excitement didn’t quite pop like S4; it’s more like a slow leak.  
comparing across datasets
One more thing before I wrap up this first post. Google’s data is on the left, and Wikipedia’s dataset is on the right, with the weeks marked that include the actual release date. (I did this in excel so the images don’t line up quite right, but hopefully it’s good enough to illustrate.)
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With Wikipedia’s daily values added in a Fri-to-Thu week group, there’s only one week before a strong drop. With the Google calendar-style (Sun to Sat), S7′s second week goes even higher, and the drop is steep. 
In the Google numbers, 2/7ths of the green bar is ‘now showing on Netflix,’ and the remaining 5/7ths is the hype-based engagement levels. The same goes for the week following, which in google’s dataset is even higher; 5/7ths of that, plus the last 2 days of the week before, equal the S7 green bar on the Wikipedia dataset, on the right.   
And that means there was enough traffic in five days to propel an entire week to even higher than the week that contained the first two days of the season (which usually loom over all others by a noticeable degree). It’s even more remarkable when you look at the Wikipedia dataset, which is arranged to run from Friday to the following Thursday -- and which does have a drop-off. 
I’ll be tapping a few more datasets to unpack this anomaly, in my next post. I’ll warn you now, they paint a very different picture of S7. 
part 2 can be found here  
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thewineauctionroom · 4 years
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New Post has been published on https://wineauctionroom.com/not-all-bad-news-as-online-auctions-help-pick-up-the-real-world-slack/
Not all bad news as online auctions help pick up the real-world slack
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The World of Fine Wine’s auctions and secondary market correspondent, Chloe Ashton, looks at the continuing effects of the Covid-19 pandemic on the fine-wine salerooms and secondary market
The resolve of the wine industry is being tested. Following an uncertain start to the year, the global health crisis descended on an already-unsteady fine-wine market, forcing a complete halt in business for the on-trade, while the off-trade scrambled to come up with contingency plans to sell and deliver wine with new, “Covid-safe” procedures. Over half-way through the year, the picture is far from bright for restaurants and bars, but off-premise sales offer a glimmer of hope.
After falling 2.5 percent between January and April, the Liv-ex 1,000 index bounced back in the latter months of H1 2020 (fig.1). Also gaining ground lost at the start of the year, and following seven consecutive months of decline, the Liv-ex 50 index (made up of Bordeaux first growths) experienced a positive pivot, rising 3 percent between March and June. The Bordeaux-dominant Liv-ex 100 index continued its downward trend, dropping 2 percent over the first half of 2020.
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In regional terms, the Bordeaux Legends 50 index finished H1 2020 where it began in January, and the Bordeaux 500 index fell half a percent short of the same (fig.2). Matthew O’Connell, Head of Investment at BI Fine Wines, qualifies their fluctuation within the context of this year’s Bordeaux en primeur campaign: “Prices were 25 percent down on average—even more for some of the biggest names”. Release prices slashed to gain traction amid the pandemic nevertheless came with a trade-off: a widespread reduction by the châteaux of volumes brought to market. “Fewer customers were able to get hold of the brilliant, and brilliantly-priced wines,” he explains, adding, “In many cases, we had demand five times higher than our available allocations.”
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While the combination of attractive prices and high demand caused heavy secondary market trading of Bordeaux 2019s, its impact appears short-lived—the region’s Liv-ex trade share percentage declined further through the first half of 2020, reaching an all-time low of 46 percent by the end of July (fig.3).
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Burgundy, too, falls victim to the pandemic, its regional index falling 2 percent in the first six months of the year. While showing signs of a faster recovery by July, it was Liv-ex’s worst regional performer in H1 2020—a consequence of sky-high prices having further to fall during harder times. Less expensive wines from outside the two traditional French fine-wine regions fared better. Despite a reported 33 percent decrease in global sales of Champagne, Liv-ex’s Champagne 50 index is the best regional performer of the year so far, rising by 2 percent between January and June 2020. The Rhône and Italy 100 indices also performed well.
In the UK, regional diversification is firmly afoot. BI recorded a 30 percent increase in turnover from Italian wines over the past 12 months, while trades on Berry Bros & Rudd’s online trading platform, BBX, continue to diversify. “Italy, Rhône, Spain, and North America claim slightly bigger shares each year”, Buying Director Max Lalondrelle told me.
The same cannot be said for Hong Kong. The pandemic, plus political turmoil, has taken its toll on business, particularly given the city’s strong on-trade focus. Bordeaux continues to trend downward: “HK cellars are full of Bordeaux,” says Thibaut Mathieu, Managing Director of Corney & Barrow Hong Kong. “It’s hard to offer mature Bordeaux to an HK collector who is probably sitting on hundreds of clarets, bought while en primeur was still hot,” he continues. Burgundy nonetheless still holds its trade share in volume, albeit at “a more affordable price point” for immediate consumption at home.
Uncertainty for the future generated by the health crisis has translated into thriftier purchases across fine-wine markets. While this does mean a decrease in average sale prices per bottle, the positive takeaway is volume. Indeed, Corney & Barrow’s Hong Kong business for home delivery “has picked up significantly.” “We are selling two to three times more than last year,” Mathieu explains. Tom Harrow, Managing Director of Honest Grapes, echoes a similar sentiment for the UK, with business “operating at a level between 1.5 and double our normal Christmas period since lockdown.”
Auction update
By contrast, the spring live-auction season of 2020 was understandably quiet, with fully operational physical auctions an impossibility for much of the second quarter. Live-auction revenues in the first half of the year reached an unprecedented low of $124 million, down 48 percent on H1 2019 (fig.4). The total number of lots offered saw a smaller reduction (36 percent), meaning a 20 percent decrease in average value per lot ($3,204 in H1 2020 vs. $4,008 in H1 2019). Geographically, the Hong Kong auction scene has been the hardest hit of major wine cities, its live sales experiencing a near-70 percent drop in value compared with January to June 2019.
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But while the gavel in Asia was less active during the first six months of the year, its customers were not. Private Chinese buyers were responsible for the highest bids in live auctions conducted by American houses, as well as proving their ongoing thirst for fine wine in several online-only auctions.
The US earned a 67 percent share of global live-auction revenues from January to June 2020. Front-runner Acker Merrall & Condit exceeded its H1 figures on the same period last year, generating $46.6m from live and live-streamed sales (fig.5). Following a well-timed introduction of online-only sales in September 2019, a further $8.6m from digital auctions brings Acker’s H1 2020 total to $55.2m. Zachys also adapted quickly to customers stuck at their computers, arriving “first out of the gate” with its Studio Sales—auctions streamed online with a live auctioneer and online bidding.
In NZ we are also experiencing strong online sales which provide our vendors with that extra confidence when they hand their wines to The Wine Auction Room. 
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Further success stories of 2020 are found beyond the traditional hubs. The impressive performances of Baghera (Geneva), Heritage (Los Angeles), and Skinner (Boston) compared to the same period in 2019 suggest decentralized trade, linked not only to a requirement for activity closer to home during the pandemic, but also through wider use of online resources for fine-wine buying internationally. Indeed, the digital pivot has already proved of higher importance this year than ever before. With the exception of Christie’s, every major live auction house also offering online-only auctions grew their digital revenues in the first half of 2020 compared with the same period last year, to the collective tune of $26m (a surge of 21 percent).
Online-only auctions still garner lower top-lot prices than their live counterparts, but their upswing in value during the pandemic-ridden months of 2020 relative to 2019 is astounding. The average winning bid value of digital wine auctions in H1 2019 was $4,500, but $17,000 in H1 2020 (an increase of more than 270 percent).
Though 2020’s global auction value thus far is a far cry from the dizzy heights of H1 in 2019 and 2018, the market has shown encouraging signs not only of continued activity and the strategic agility to facilitate it, but also generosity. Auction houses sprung to the aid of the hard-hit on-trade and health charities. Zachys teamed up with Union Square Hospitality Group, raising funds for unemployment relief through the sale of rare wines from its restaurants’ cellars. French online auction platform, iDealWine, received donations from more than 100 Bordeaux châteaux, generating €134,600 for medical charity Protège Ton Soignant. WineBid—the world’s largest online auction platform—also arranged a charity sale, with proceeds going to the Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation Covid-19 Relief Fund.
In addition to its generous support for an industry in need, WineBid also saw an all-time high in bidding traffic. CEO Russ Mann is optimistic about the permanent changes that 2020 will have brought to fine-wine buying behavior. “Within a $325 billion industry, online wine sales have thus far penetrated as far as c.$10 billion—just 3 percent,” he explains. “I think the pandemic has generated in three to five months the same progression for the industry as we’ve seen during the previous three to five years.” WineBid itself has had systems in place to replicate the physical elements of a live auction for many years. It possesses technology for 360° examination of bottles through hi-res photography, as well as fast-paced “e-bay style” bidding on a weekly cycle, recreating the excitement of a live auction room.
Perhaps a silver lining of this difficult year, therefore, is an openness to buying differently, and from farther afield. Worldwide Head of Sotheby’s Wine, Jamie Ritchie, explains thus: “Whether live or online, out of Hong Kong, New York, or London, our sales this year have proven that the appetite for wine transcends geographical boundaries, as collectors across different time zones are prepared to place their winning bids by any means.” True to this, and despite the ongoing political unrest, Hong Kong showed early signs of some upturn in July. Sotheby’s rescheduled season of spring sales in the city generated $23m, its three-day auction series becoming the third highest-value wine-sales series ever in Asia. Christie’s first live sale of the year also took place in Hong Kong, resulting in “very strong market response,” and a final sale value of $5.5m. Other big players have plans to make up for lost ground through the autumn. After its “busiest June ever,” Zachys is set for an exciting Fall season, including its inaugural European sale—the auction of wine from three-Michelin-starred Florence restaurant Enoteca Pinchiorri.
Through these challenging months the fine-wine industry has shown resilience, and its customers, loyalty, with both parties adapting to the “new normal” without compromising the pursuit of their mutual passion. London-based private members’ club, 67 Pall Mall, reacted quickly and creatively, replacing the physical space of its tasting rooms with a “virtual” membership. The shift saw live tastings conducted through Zoom, for which participants received “tasting packs” in advance, complete with tasting mat, storage, and serving instructions, thermometer, and 75ml samples of the wines. Merchants, too, leaned into their screens, increasing digital activity through video-led tastings. Tom Harrow, Director of Honest Grapes, is delighted with customer-engagement levels achieved over the past few months. “We really grabbed the medium of video by the horns, moving our entire events program online very early into lockdown.” Appetite for online tastings has continued, albeit “a little less frequently, as visits to bars and restaurants become possible again.” The months of lockdown ended on a positive note for Berry Bros & Rudd, too, with BBX seeing its number of monthly trades increase by 15 to 20 percent, and “more active buyers and sellers each month.”
With the world slowly re-opening, it will be interesting to see how the industry’s new digital advances develop. Old habits die hard, but as the coronavirus dust settles—complete with a global recession and an unemployment crisis—so loom once again the longer-standing political threats entrenched before this unprecedented year began: Brexit, US tariffs on wine, Hong Kong’s national security law. Now is the time for all those interested in fine wine to fasten their seatbelts—there may well be a bumpy ride ahead.
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deniscollins · 4 years
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As Bolsonaro Keeps Amazon Vows, Brazil’s Indigenous Fear ‘Ethnocide’
Brazil’s 1988 Constitution confers expansive rights to Brazil’s Indigenous people, a form of reparations for centuries of brutal treatment. The Uru Eu Wau Wau territory, in the southern part of the Amazon rainforest, encompasses a 6,950 square mile area — a little smaller than the state of New Jersey — where the tribe has built a cluster of small villages and is now home to about 220 Uru Eu Wau Wau people, as well as a few smaller uncontacted tribes whose exact populations are unknown. Brazil’s President Jair Bolsonaro promised he would open up the Amazon to more commercial development, including mining and large-scale farming. If you were President Bolsonaro, would you lead the effort to open the Uru Eu Wau Wau’s territory to mining and large scale farming: (1) Yes, (2) No? Why? What are the ethics underlying your decision?
The billboard at the entrance of a tiny Indigenous village in the Amazon has become a relic in less than a decade, boasting of something no longer true.
“Here, there is investment by the federal government,” proclaims the sign, erected in 2012, which is now shrouded by fallen palm tree fronds.
In fact, this tiny hamlet in Rondônia state, called Alto Jamari, home to some 10 families of the Uru Eu Wau Wau tribe, is barely surviving, just like scores of other struggling villages in the region that for decades have served as havens for Indigenous culture and bulwarks against deforestation in Brazil.
Federal aid is drying up at the same time that more outsiders are trespassing on their lands, eager to illegally exploit the forest’s resources, and as the coronavirus poses a deadly threat, having already reached a few remote villages.
Local leaders and Indigenous advocates direct their blame for this deteriorating situation toward one person: President Jair Bolsonaro.
During his run for the presidency, Mr. Bolsonaro promised he would open up the Amazon to more commercial development, including mining and large-scale farming.
“Where there is Indigenous land,” he has said, “there is wealth underneath it.”
Since taking office a little more than a year ago, Mr. Bolsonaro has moved aggressively to further those development goals, putting in place policies that critics fear have set in motion a new era of ethnocide for Indigenous communities.
He has started dismantling a system of protection for Indigenous communities enshrined in Brazil’s Constitution, with his government last year slashing the funding of the National Indian Foundation, the federal agency responsible for upholding those Indigenous rights.
As president, he has vowed not to designate “one centimeter” more as protected Indigenous lands, arguing that living in isolation is an anachronism in the 21st century and an impediment to economic growth.
“The Indigenous person can’t remain in his land as if he were some prehistoric creature,” Mr. Bolsonaro said in February.
Also in February, Mr. Bolsonaro presented a bill to Congress that could effectively legalize the illegal mining ventures that have polluted rivers and torn down large swaths of the Amazon.
The proposed legislation, which Congress has shown no appetite to advance as Brazil battles the coronavirus, would also authorize oil and gas exploration and hydropower plants on Indigenous territories. Under the plan, native communities would be consulted about projects — but would not be given veto power.
Last year, Mr. Bolsonaro bragged that he had “put an end to” what he called “astronomical fines” against companies that violate environmental law in the Amazon, removing one of the few disincentives developers face.
Brazil’s president is keeping his promises about expanding development in the Amazon. And for many of the Indigenous people who live there, the Bolsonaro era is posing an existential threat.
Brazil’s 1988 Constitution confers expansive rights to Brazil’s Indigenous people, a form of reparations for centuries of brutal treatment.
While these rights have never been fully upheld, they are being eviscerated in the Bolsonaro era, according to Indigenous leaders and activists.
For communities with small populations, like the Uru Eu Wau Wau, the government’s stance could mean their total disappearance as distinct tribes.
The schoolhouse at the largest of the Uru Eu Wau Wau’s six villages — a modern facility surrounded by a cluster of modest huts — sits empty. Teachers stopped showing up last year because they weren’t being paid.
Visits from doctors and nurses have become rare, in large part because Cuban doctors who had been providing care in remote villages left abruptly shortly before Mr. Bolsonaro took office in January 2019 in response to threats from the incoming president.
Illegal incursions by loggers into the edges of the territory have become increasingly frequent, putting its residents on a war footing.
“They’re razing down our forest,” Juvitai Uru Eu Wau Wau, 19, said while swinging on a hammock as a toddler pushed a dusty tricycle around a cluster of small huts. As is common, Juvitai uses the tribe’s name as her family name.
Children in the village have picked up on the collective angst, Juvitai said, and constantly ask whether their days living in relative isolation are coming to an end.
“I tell them to be calm,” Juvitai said, sounding uncertain. “This is our land. We’re staying here.”
On a satellite image, the Uru Eu Wau Wau territory stands out as an emerald green island surrounded by parcels of razed forest, most of which are now cattle ranches.
In 1991, the federal government officially designated the Uru Eu Wau Wau territory. It encompasses a 6,950 square mile area — a little smaller than the state of New Jersey — where the tribe has built a cluster of small villages. This federal recognition is supposed to confer limited political autonomy, prohibiting outsiders from entering without explicit permission and barring large-scale commercial activity.
The territory, still technically owned by the federal government, is now home to about 220 Uru Eu Wau Wau people, as well as a few smaller uncontacted tribes whose exact populations are unknown.
The Uru Eu Wau Wau have endured illegal incursions from loggers for years. But in February of last year, it became clear the tribe was facing a far graver threat when some 200 men strode into their territory with the apparent intent to establish a permanent settlement.
After the Uru Eu Wau Wau protested and the incursion drew the attention of the Brazilian news media, the federal police did step in to expel the men. But such enforcement actions are rare, and it’s impossible for the authorities to effectively patrol such a vast region, which both the loggers and tribes know well.
Soon after the police left, someone opened fire on a government plaque at one of the main entrances to the territory that signals that the area is protected. It sent a chilling message to the Uru Eu Wau Wau.
“What we’re seeing is the result of a government that is in favor of deforestation in the Amazon,” said Bitate Uru Eu Wau Wau, a leader in the community. “It has emboldened invaders to come into Indigenous territories.”
Federal prosecutors in the state said these incursions are part of a wave of illegal squatters who raze protected land, harvest the wood and then carve out land parcels for which they create fake titles.
Loggers, miners, cattle ranchers and others have used this approach in the Amazon for many years, and it has often paid off because lawmakers have time and again created pathways for squatters to rightfully own land they took possession of unlawfully.
But while their tactics are not new, prosecutors say the squatters have become increasingly brazen since Mr. Bolsonaro’s election, abetted by his disdain for environmental fines and the government’s attitude toward development.
“The objective is to create facts on the ground,” said Daniel Azevedo, a federal prosecutor in Porto Velho, the Rondônia state capital, who focuses on environmental and Indigenous crimes.
Deforestation in Indigenous territories across Brazil has risen sharply in recent months. From August 2018 to July 2019, 1,634 square miles of forest cover was slashed, according to Brazil’s National Institute for Space Studies. That represents a 74 percent increase from the same period a year before.
The Uru Eu Wau Wau territory was among the 10 hardest hit by deforestation during that time.
Mr. Azevedo said law enforcement officials can build cases against particularly egregious drivers of deforestation. But he added the authorities are ill equipped to roll back the forces driving deforestation at a time when squatters feel backed by elected officials.
“They take comfort in the political reality, sensing that local politicians, senators, even the president supports their cause,” Mr. Azevedo said.
The Uru Eu Wau Wau is one of several Indigenous communities that have seen a sharp rise in land incursions and threats in the Bolsonaro era. Further north, the Yanomami and Munduruku tribes have been invaded by thousands of gold miners.
In 2019, at least seven Indigenous leaders were killed in conflicts over land.
At a meeting last year with the governors of Brazil’s nine Amazonian states, Mr. Bolsonaro made clear he saw Indigenous lands and their inhabitants as a drag on Brazil’s potential.
“Indigenous people don’t lobby, don’t speak our language, and yet today they manage to have 14 percent of our national territory,” he said, using a figure slightly larger than the government’s own statistics. “One of their intentions is to hold us back.”
Mr. Bolsonaro, who won the presidency with 55 percent of the vote, has many supporters who agree with his contention that Indigenous communities should not be in control of the 12.5 percent of the country’s landmass demarcated as Indigenous land.
Daniel da Cunha, 60, who lives just outside the Uru Eu Wau Wau territory, said those territories should be carved up so jobless people can put them to profitable use.
“They don’t work,” he said of Indigenous people. “They don’t bring in money for Brazil, only burdens.”
Some lawmakers argue that Mr. Bolsonaro is right to want to upend Brazil’s Indigenous policy, but favor a more moderate approach.
Arthur Oliveira Maia, a center-right congressman from the state of Bahia, said that under the current legal framework, no one, including the Indigenous tribes themselves, can profit from the reserved territories.
“Commercial endeavors in Indigenous territories could be done gradually, setting aside 10 or 15 percent of the land,” he said.
He added that he favored starting out with agriculture, which tends to have a lower environmental impact, rather than mining.
“Today Indigenous people are struggling,” he said. “The emancipation of these people is only possible through economic means.”
Mr. Bolsonaro has long spoken derisively about Indigenous people. In 1998, when he was a fringe far-right lawmaker, Mr. Bolsonaro said it was a “shame that the Brazilian cavalry hadn’t been as efficient as the American one, which exterminated the Indians.”
What Mr. Bolsonaro did not acknowledge is that Brazil’s Indigenous people were almost wiped out after Europeans arrived in the early 16th century.
The Indigenous population in modern day Brazil plunged from estimates of between three million and as many as 11 million people in the 1500s to 70,000 by the 1950s as entire tribes were killed off, while huge numbers were enslaved.
After Brazil’s generals seized power in the 1960s, the repressive military government — which Mr. Bolsonaro has long lionized — treated Indigenous people living in the Amazon as obstacles to economic growth.
The country’s 1988 Constitution tried to redress some of these wrongs.
It ended the military-era policy that had encouraged the assimilation of Indigenous people and recognized their “customs, languages, beliefs and traditions.”
The Constitution also established a process of land demarcation that over the years created the vast patchwork of 567 protected Indigenous territories. In 2010, when Brazil conducted its last census, about 517,000 of the country’s 897,000 Indigenous people lived in those lands.
On his first day in office, Mr. Bolsonaro transferred the land demarcation process from the National Indian Foundation, known as FUNAI, to the Ministry of Agriculture, which is heavily influenced by the agribusiness lobby. The Supreme Court blocked the move, finding it unconstitutional, but all pending demarcation cases remain frozen.
In addition to the challenge on transferring FUNAI, Mr. Bolsonaro has encountered other setbacks or delays. Leaders in Congress have signaled they are not in a hurry to move forward on his bill to authorize energy projects in Indigenous lands.
But the power of the presidency still gives him plenty of opportunity to further his vision.
The government recently appointed a former Christian missionary, Ricardo Lopes Dias, to head the FUNAI division in charge of protecting uncontacted tribes. While Mr. Dias has pledged not to use his post to proselytize, his appointment incited fears the government will allow missionaries to make contact with isolated communities, which are vulnerable to dying en mass from common diseases during such encounters.
A representative of FUNAI said the agency is investing in entrepreneurship and sustainability programs like artisanal fishing and small-scale honey-making ventures that are meant to encourage the autonomy of Indigenous communities.
For years before Mr. Bolsonaro became president, FUNAI had already been contending with personnel shortages and lean budgets, which forced the agency to abandon several outposts in remote areas and cut the frequency of visits to villages.
While the agency’s authorized budget had remained relatively steady in recent years, the Bolsonaro administration made a sharp cut to programmatic spending for 2020, earmarking $9 million for programs to uphold Indigenous rights, about 40 percent less than the year before.
The association that represents career employees at the agency said in a statement the reduction means FUNAI has an increasingly thin presence on the ground, leaving those communities besieged by land grabbers at greater risk.
“This is the first time in which government planning,” the employee association said, “does not contemplate the Indigenous rights guaranteed by the Constitution.”
Whenever the Uru Eu Wau Wau learn of new incursions into their territory, they set out on foot to survey the damage and burn settler encampments. As a group prepared at dawn for one recent expedition, warriors in the tribe slathered poison on the tips of their arrows.
Ivaneide Bandeira Cardozo, an activist who often accompanies the Uru Eu Wau Wau, looked ashen, fearing what a confrontation with loggers could lead to.
“You need to promise me that if you run into them you won’t kill,” she pleaded.
“If we don’t kill, it will get worse day by day,” one of the men responded.
During an arduous six-hour hike through dense forest, the Uru Eu Wau Wau waded through water and clouds of buzzing insects to reach a large stretch of land that had recently been reduced to ashes.
The Uru Eu Wau Wau could do little more than take photos of the damage and then set fire to the small encampment.
When asked about what the Bolsonaro administration’s policies may do to communities like these, Ms. Cardozo, who has supported the tribe for decades, looked dejected.
“Their objective is to force them from their lands and turn them into ordinary citizens in the periphery of cities, into beggars,” she said. “To me that amounts to a policy of genocide and ethnocide.”
One of the oldest members of the tribe, Borea Uru Eu Wau Wau, has scars on her back from bullet wounds she suffered during an ambush by rubber trappers in the 1980s. A sister, aunt and grandmother were killed then, she recalled.
Since the new wave of incursions began, Borea has experienced flashbacks, which have left her with a fatalistic view about the future.
“It takes too long to wait for justice, for which we’ve waited and waited,” she said, speaking barely above a whisper. “It’s easier to kill.”
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thebestintoronto · 5 years
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Toronto - A Multicultural Treasure - Canada, February 2019
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Welcome to Toronto, the most multiculturally diverse city on the planet, where more than 180 languages are spoken on a daily basis. A popular adage describes the city as "New York City run by the Swiss," and it's true—you can find world-class theater, underground tunnels, shopping and restaurants, the sidewalks are clean and the people are friendly. It's estimated that over half of Toronto's residents were born outside Canada and despite its complex makeup, Torontonians generally get along extremely well. When the weather is fine, Toronto is a blast: a vibrant, big-time city abuzz with activity. Some of the world's finest restaurants are found here, alongside happening bars and clubs and eclectic festivals. Yes, winter in Toronto can be a real drag, with things getting messy on the congested highways and crowded public transit system. But come here with patience, an open mind and even during frigid days and bone-chilling nights, you're bound to have a great time. There is a fresh international buzz about this city. Perhaps it's the influx of flush new residents from across the globe; or was it the Pan-Am Games that shone a spotlight on Toronto? Either way, this is a city that is waking up to its own greatness.
A little bit of history:
When Europeans first arrived at the site of present-day Toronto, the vicinity was inhabited by the Iroquois, who had displaced the Wyandot (Huron) people, occupants of the region for centuries. The name Toronto is likely derived from the Iroquoian word tkaronto, meaning "place where trees stand in the water". This refers to the northern end of what is now Lake Simcoe, where the Huron had planted tree saplings to corral fish. In the 1660s, the Iroquois established two villages within what is today Toronto. By 1701, the Mississauga had displaced the Iroquois, who abandoned the Toronto area at the end of the Beaver Wars, with most returning to their base in present-day New York. In the 17th century, the area was a crucial for travel, with the Humber and Rouge rivers providing a shortcut to the upper Great Lakes. These routes together were known as the Toronto Passage.
As a major destination for immigrants to Canada, the city grew rapidly through the remainder of the 19th century. The first significant wave of immigrants were Irish, fleeing the Great Irish Famine -the vast majority were Catholic. By 1851, the Irish-born population had become the largest single ethnic group in the city. For brief periods, Toronto was twice the capital of the united Province of Canada: first from 1849 to 1852, following unrest in Montreal, and later 1856 to 1858. After this date, Quebec was designated as the capital until 1866 (one year before Canadian Confederation). Since then, the capital of Canada has remained Ottawa, Ontario. Toronto became the capital of the province of Ontario after its official creation in 1867.
Following WWII, refugees from war-torn Europe and Chinese job-seekers arrived. Toronto's population grew to more than one million in 1951, when large-scale suburbanization began and doubled to two million by 1971. Following the elimination of racially based immigration policies by the late 1960s, Toronto became a destination for immigrants from all parts of the world. By the 1980s, Toronto had surpassed Montreal as Canada's most populous city and chief economic hub.
As is my usual practice, I’m taking up “residence” in a Hilton property – this time it’s the Doubletree on Chestnut Street in downtown. My red-eye flights via Detroit had me touching down at Pearson International by 10:30am, temperature was just 13f with a wind chill of -17f, heavy overcast skies and thick snowflakes beginning to float down to add to the existing accumulation on the runways. To say it was cold would be a vast understatement – my breath was a stream of white mist as I walked up the gangway from the plane into the terminal, shivering all the way. My arranged transfer to the hotel was via Jayride Shuttles, an excellent shuttle company I have used in the past. They are significantly cheaper than most transfer services to the city (I paid $35 USD for a one-way trip) and it can all be done online via their website. By noon I was checking into the Doubletree right in the heart of the entertainment center of Toronto – a 26-story building and my home-away-from-home for the next couple of weeks is on the 24th floor, overlooking the city center ice skating rink. A small room by my usual standards but very cozy, with a bay window affording sweeping views of the streets far below. The Wifi signal is always strong and stable and of course, numerous American/Canadian television channels to satisfy even me! After the redeye flights and having been awake for more than 39 hours, I was more than ready for a hot shower and a long afternoon nap – I can unpack and get settled in later.
My first morning in Toronto and I awoke to a fresh layer of snow blanketing the immediate area and glistening in the bright morning sunlight. Skaters are already zooming around the rink, wrapped up like Goodyear Tire Men from head to foot in thick coats, scarves, hats and gloves. Temperature was -9c with a wind chill of -13c…. that called for hot coffee and lots of it. After the standard hotel buffet breakfast (or “brekkie” as it’s known in Canada), I stopped by the front desk to collect a city street map and some sightseeing literature – now I’m ready to plan my 2-week stay. Thankfully I picked an ideal location to use as a base of operations – I’m in easy walking distance from just about everything and even though it means braving these crazy temps, I’m ready to take on the challenge of Toronto’s outdoors. I have my winter coat (only one I own), gloves, umbrella and even a scarf – only missing the requisite fur hat…..you can now refer to me as Nannoka of the North, bring on the blizzard…. LOL.
Just as I was debating whether to go out for dinner or eat in, the fire alarm went off in my room – so loud, it startled me out of a half doze. Then came an announcement that the fire department was its way to check out the problem. This lasted for almost 25 minutes with the alarm shrieking constantly, only halted temporarily when an updated announcement was made by hotel staff. Finally it was determined to be a false alarm and things seemed to return to normal – yeah right. By this time, I had made the decision to eat in so made my way to the elevators. Turns out when the alarm was triggered the elevators automatically stopped, and until a serviceman arrived to release them, they were not moving. I had a choice: either go hungry or hike down 24 flights of back service stairs……no contest, I’m headed for the lobby on the ankle express (aka hiking). If I hadn’t been hungry earlier, I had definitely worked up an appetite when I reached the ground floor. See how much fun can be had while traveling the globe…. certainly boggles the mind at times.
Hemispheres Restaurant and Bistro is the inhouse eatery on the lobby floor. Having opted to eat here this evening, I was pleasantly surprised at the menu options. I selected the pea soup puree with wasabi cream which, in spite of its name, tasted way better than it sounds. My entrée was a fantastic Bistro burger with smoked gouda cheese accompanied by sweet potato fries – a really fantastic dinner. Considering I was dining in a hotel restaurant the resulting $27 USD bill was reasonable, and the food was excellent. Thank all the gods on high the elevators had been released for service by this time, and I didn’t have to hike UP 24 flights – that was NOT on my list of things to do this evening!
In spite of my clothing preparations, my sightseeing plans went to hell in a hand basket when I opened the drapes the next morning to see light snow falling. That wouldn’t normally have stopped me, but what I heard on the local weather newscast did. The City had issued a severe cold temperature warning, along with a major storm announcement moving into the area tomorrow morning, along with a prediction for heavy snowfall, ice pellets, freezing rain and mercury readings I don’t even want to think about. Sand trucks are being readied for the upcoming blizzard, so being outside and exploring is out of the question for a day or so…. I’ll use this time to finalize upcoming trips and watch the snow drifts get higher and higher outside my windows.
I’m looking at the blizzard right now – make that a “whiteout” – swirling outside my windows….I awoke a couple of hours ago to relative calm and low temps. Promptly at 7:30am the predicted winter storm rolled into Toronto and it has been hell on wheels ever since. The order to close all city schools went out very early; except for the subway, city transportation is at a standstill; the airport has cancelled multiple flights, government employees are working from home, and yet there are people on the street walking their dogs! The winds are howling, blowing the snow in all directions building drifts against every available wall, and I have a front-row seat for all this excitement – how cool is that?
Unfortunately I missed one of the city’s most popular events by just one day…..Winterlicious, created by the city and held from January 25 to February 4. It featured delectable three-course prix fixe menus at nearly 200 participating restaurants and an eclectic culinary event series city-wide. Bad logistical planning on my part.
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However I am in time and in town for another spectacular event: the Toronto Light Festival, now in its third year. Approximately 750,000 lights are used to create a magical experience that sees the area’s 50+ Victorian-era buildings surrounded by light sculptures and dazzling canopies. Here I’m on a new visual journey and imaginative cerebral adventure, designed to entertain and inspire. The Festival transforms this neighborhood into one of the largest open-air galleries in the world, lighting up the long winter nights with distinctive works from both local and international light artists. Formerly the home of Gooderham and Worts, which was once the largest distiller in the world, it is now a designed National Historic Site. A free event which runs thru March 2nd is located in the Distillery Historic District. This entire complex is a romantic, creative and pedestrian-only village, lined with cobblestone streets and endless galleries, restaurants, cafes and shopping boutiques.
Winter here offers something else for free, ice skating at the Evergreen Brick Works. The Don Valley Brick Works (aka the Evergreen Brick Works) is a former quarry and industrial site which operated for nearly 100 years, providing bricks used to construct many well-known Toronto landmarks. Since the closure of the original factory, the quarry has been converted into a city park which includes a series of naturalized ponds, while the buildings have been restored and opened as an environmentally-focused community and cultural center by Evergreen, a national charity dedicated to restoring nature in urban environments. The outdoor rink weaves thru snow-covered gardens under exposed beams of the old brick factory roof and is considered one of the most picturesque skating rinks in Toronto. Bring your own skates or rent a pair for $5 (USD $3.74). Open 10am-5pm Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays from December to March, with Winter Wednesdays from 5:30 to 9:30pm thru February 20th. These hours are always weather-dependent. My days on ice are long gone – I’m thankful to stand upright and walk without assistance these days - but it will be a great photo op and an interesting evening while I’m here, not to mention a chance to hoist a couple of hot buttered-rum toddies!
The most iconic (and definitely most visible) landmark in Toronto as to be the CN Tower measuring some 1,815’ high, making it the tallest structure in the western hemisphere. Located at 290 Bremner Boulevard, it provides numerous options for scoping out city views from three observation decks, with my favorite being the glass floor elevator watching the street get further and further away as you ride higher – certainly not for the faint hearted! The Skyped Observation Platform is the place to see Niagara and New York state on a clear day and for a really special meal, book a table at 360 Restaurant. This revolving eatery dishes up signature Canadian cuisine with a seasonally changing menu. Don’t even think of coming here without your camera – it’s the ultimate photo opportunity.
Known as the Castle on the Hill, Casa Loma took three years and $3.5M ($2.6M USD) to build. It’s owner, Sir Henry Pellatt, filled Casa Loma with priceless artwork from Canada and around the world. It stood as a monument to its creator – it surpassed any private home in North America and was once the largest private residence in Canada. With soaring battlements and secret passageways, it paid homage to the castles and knights of days gone by, and to this day it remains one of the only true castles on the North American continent. This grand estate features secret tunnels and doors, as well as colorfully lush gardens and very ornate details, like the family coat of arms on the library ceiling. Case Loma is also home to a historic-themed series of theatrical escape rooms, where guests can choose from 4 different games. Located at 1 Austin Terrace, you can find times, tickets and more information at escapecasealoma.com.
For the foodies in the crowd, St. Lawrence Market should be on your “must see” list when in town. Named by National Geographic Magazine as one of the world’s top food markets, it dates back to 1845 and features more than 120 vendors selling all manner of fresh fruit, vegetables, meat, fish, cheese and baked goods. No, you don’t have to be shopping for a rack of lamb to justify a visit: the market is also home to a variety of takeout food stalls. It is made up of three major markets: Farmer’s Market only open on Saturdays 5am to 3pm; Antiques Market only open on Sundays 5am to 5pm; and the main South Market open Tuesdays-Thursdays 8am to 6pm, Fridays 8am to 7pm, Saturdays 5am to 5pm and closed on Sundays. A big plus is the Market Gallery located on the second floor of the South Market. It’s home to rotating exhibits that chronicle Toronto’s unique history via photographs, maps, paintings and more. Located at 92-95 Front Street East, just a couple of blocks from the Distillery.
And of course you can’t visit Canada and not visit the Hockey Hall of Fame (Canadians LIVE for this game). Located at Brookfield Place, 30 Yonge Street in downtown, it’s Toronto’s tribute to the national obsession featuring memorabilia, displays and interactive games. Fans are invited to do their own play-by-play commentary on classic games in the TSN/RDS broadcast zone, tour a replica of the Canadiens dressing room, or test their skill and block shots from some of the game’s greatest shooters. Visitors can also have a photo op with the game’s ultimate hardware: the Stanley Cup. There’s a new permanent exhibit here - The Mask - which chronicles the evolution of goalie masks as a means of protection and self-expression. Currently there are 90 masks on display.
Toronto boasts some of the best museums, including The Royal Ontario, Museum of Illusions, Gardiner Museum, Gibson House, Aga Khan, Museum of Contemporary Art and others. It also has numerous shopping centers and malls, the best known being the CF Toronto Easton Centre located downtown at 20 Yonge Street. One of the busiest malls in North America, it offers more than 250 shops, services and restaurants under its roof. An elevated pedestrian bridge over Queen Street connects to the flagship Hudson’s Bay department store and Saks Fifth Avenue across the street. Not being a shopaholic in even the vaguest sense of the word, you won’t find me anywhere near a mall 99% of the time, but this place is worth a visit if only to gawp with stunned reactions, at the price tags on the haute couture at design houses such as Balmain, Dior, Givenchy, Rodarte and Jason Wu (a favorite of Michelle Obama). Do people really buy stuff with that many numbers after the dollar sign? Evidently they do – enough to give both me and my credit card heart attacks.
Just 90 miles south of Toronto across Lake Ontario is a natural wonder of the world - Niagara Falls. I have visited it previously in summer and winter seasons many years ago – I think the most dramatic of all is right now, slap in the middle of February and during one of the coldest winters we have experienced in decades. During my sightseeing planning session on day one, I found a fantastic combo deal online via City Sightseeing Tours which, for a grand total of just under $80 USD, gets me not only my favorite HOHO 2-day unlimited-use bus ticket to explore Toronto, but also a full day tour to the Falls. I’m booked for Valentine’s Day and expecting it to be a frozen winter wonderland from start to finish.
The tour coach arrived some 20 minutes late, due to rush hour traffic and the ever-present construction sites, but finally around 10am all 35 tourists were onboard, and we made our way out of the city. It’s about an hour and a half drive to reach the Falls, paralleling Lake Ontario and passing thru the towns of Mississauga and Hamilton. The weather was holding well, and the sun actually made an appearance just before we reached Niagara. Yes, it was a winter wonderland with the thundering Falls throwing mist hundreds of feet into the air, much of which falls as frozen rain on surrounding rocks and embankments. This frozen mist builds up layer upon layer on virtually any available surface, until the entire area becomes a surreal landscape of sparkling snow, blue/white ice, and when accompanied by the most brilliant turquoise green water of the rushing Niagara River…..well, this place is simply stunning. The verdant green color of the water is a byproduct of the estimated 60 tons every minute of dissolved salts and "rock flour" (very finely ground rock) generated by the erosive force of the river itself. It’s something to see in summer time, but nothing compares with being here in the dead of winter. Niagara Falls is the collective name for three waterfalls (Horseshoe Falls, American Falls, and Bridal Veil Falls) that straddle the international border between the Canadian province of Ontario and the US state of New York, forming the southern end of the Niagara Gorge. The American Falls usually appear to be more “frozen” than the Horseshoe Falls because they only receive about 7% of the Niagara River flow. With less water cascading over these Falls, there is a greater opportunity for ice buildup. Superlatives are not in short supply here: the cumulative output of the falls is the highest of any falls in the world, with Horseshoe Falls being the most powerful on the North American continent. In the dawn of the automotive age, Niagara Falls was the top honeymoon and summer vacation destination and even though it no longer has that claim to fame, it still attracts millions of tourists every year.
There has only been one occurrence where the flow of Niagara Falls has been stopped due to a freeze-up which actually happened on March 29, 1848. After an extremely cold winter, the thick ice of Lake Erie began to break up during a duration of warm weather. Followed by a strong eastward wind, this caused the ice to form in the mouth of the Niagara River which then caused a blockage of water from flowing down towards the Horseshoe Falls. When water comes crashing down over the Falls into the rocks below, it causes it to turn solid and form what is known as “The Ice Bridge” connecting the American side to the Canadian Side. Many years ago, the Ice Bridge was a popular tourist attraction as visitors would gather on the bridge and admire the beauty that the cold winter weather had created. Both Canadian and American visitors would gather to walk on the bridge, where they could enjoy fresh food and beverages as some entrepreneurs set up concession stands during these cold times. That was all until an unfortunate disaster occurred on February 4, 1912 when the bridge broke off and caused three people to drift down the river to their death. Ever since this incident occurred, walking on the Ice Bridge is forbidden. For the majority of winters the Falls are known to partially freeze, although the Falls never entirely freeze-up on the waterfall or in the Niagara River. Notable years for the Falls displaying this icing up are 1885, 1902, 1906, 1911, 1932, 1936, 2014, and 2017. The illusion of the falls freezing completely is due to the outer part of the falls creating a buildup of ice, but underneath that outer shell, the water is continuously flowing down the Falls at a constant rate.
I had a couple of hours to explore, take photographs and grab a bowl of hot spicy chili for lunch at a nearby restaurant. It was too cold to spend a lot of time out of doors, but I had a great viewing spot from the second floor of the restaurant building and was able to take some stunning pictures. From here it’s a short drive to our next stop, Niagara-on-the-Lake, and there’s something about this town that makes you want to linger. The heritage district here is made for walking, with its boutique shops, cast-iron planters and horse-drawn carriages transporting riders to another time and place. It’s Victorian-era 19th century is charm personified, and you could easily transplant the entire town and set it down anywhere in New England, where it would blend in perfectly. Located at the point where the Niagara River flows into Lake Ontario, it is the only town in Canada with a Lord Mayor. The permanent population is about 18,000 residents.
Besides the obvious attraction of Niagara Falls, there are many other distinct historic sites in the area that educate tourists about the significance that the region served in shaping Canada to what it is today. The War of 1812 was a turning point in Niagara Falls history, when the fledgling United States army fought British Loyalists for the new lands that would become Canada. From Fort Erie to Niagara-on-the-Lake, it’s possible to visit the past, carefully restored and recreated. At Old Fort Erie, authentically dressed guides in 1812 period costume, recreate life in this former British garrison, including daily musket demonstrations and the annual Siege of Old Fort Erie Re-enactment. Fort Erie was also an entry point for freedom-seeking black slaves escaping persecution in the U.S. The point of entry into Canada from Buffalo, was known as “The Crossing” and is the start of the Freedom Trail - part of the Underground Railroad. There are innumerable stops for those interested in the history of the area, including Brock’s Monument, a tribute to the British General who lost his life at the Battle of Queenston in 1812.The Daredevil Exhibit at the IMAX theatre showcases real artifacts from daredevils that survived the plunge, and along with the all the stories to go with how each daredevil attempted the treacherous stunt of plummeting down the Falls. The Museum is where visitors can explore the history that changed a nation with real artifacts, images, videos and interactive experiences designed to deliver full exposure to historic events in the region. The Niagara Falls Gallery provides visitors with an opportunity to experience the history of the iconic Falls from the geological creation of the Falls to the daredevils that tested the ferocious capability of nature.
Our final stop before heading back to Toronto, was at the Niagara College Teaching Distillery located in the heart of Niagara’s wine country - its claim to fame is producing ice wine. It takes 4 times as many frozen grapes to produce it compared to regular wines and is sweet enough to make you gag…..not my idea of wine drinking at all, but it is an acquired taste. 40 students each year are selected for the college course and are taught everything from A to Z about making wine. Graduation from this college gives students multiple employment opportunities, especially in the hospitality industries.
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During my stay in Toronto, the weather pendulum has swung from one extreme to the other. I have seen sunlight, snow blizzards, ice storms and ferocious winds, sometimes all in one day! Temperatures have rarely risen above freezing and are usually well below that but surprisingly, I have enjoyed the craziness of it all. This is a great town to explore, even if I’ve had to negotiate snow drifts on the sidewalks, handle ice pellets bouncing off my umbrella, and figure out where I am when caught in a “whiteout” …..such is life for a road warrior.
The post “ Toronto - A Multicultural Treasure - Canada, February 2019 “ was originally seen on Travel Blog
Intravenous Hydration Clinic Toronto Ontario - Dr. Amauri Wellness Centre - Dr. Amauri Caversan
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rogha · 8 years
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Cryptid
Whose ready for resbang 2016? Not this chick really, but I mostly did it. Thanks to Caitlin for assuring me it mostly made sense, the mods for everything they do to make this event possible, Amanda and sigsegv for art that is far better than I deserve! Onwards to the fic.
No thanks to my device for making posting this fic on any platform I could get my hands on a Herculean task like fight me FanFiction.net and fight me tumblr mobile for not letting me italicise or bold anything your killing my aesthetic I’m too tired for this I need a mug of hot chocolate. This is neither the first nor the last time I will cry over resbang and it going a little pear shaped on me but it’s here so please do forgive me for the disappointing aesthetic.
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“If you aren’t going to make any friends, you’d better get a dog.”
Wes was the entire continental US away, but Soul could feel the brotherly concern radiating from the phone. They’ve had this conversation every day for the past six months, and it’s gotten more and more depressing each day. It wasn’t like Soul was actively avoiding the pursuit of happiness, but every other friend he’d had in his life he either made when he was five or drunk, and he’s pretty sure you couldn’t just ask someone if they wanted to be friends outside of those situations.
And all of those friends live on the same side of the US as Wes – the far one. None of them moved to the Seattle area for work to work for a up-and-coming record company. Admittedly, it’s an oddly specific situation, but Soul wouldn’t lie about the fact none of them did it.
“Fine,” Soul sighed loudly over the phone, enough that his brother could definitely hear it. “I’ll get a dog, if I find one I like.”
“That’s what you said about making friends, little brother.”
-
And that was the story of how Soul ended up at the front desk of the local (relatively speaking) no kill animal shelter, trying to get a tiny blonde worker to look up from her huge textbook. He’d already dinged the bell like four times, with measured thirty second intervals. What’s the next step? He was wracking his brains over here – did he yank out one her dubstep blasting earphones? Reach over a tap her gently on the shoulder? Wave a hand in front of her face? He didn’t know, but he’s already been standing here like a dumbass for two minutes and it was only getting worse the more time passes.
He tried coughing a couple of times. Loud, hacking coughs.
It did nothing.
He steeled himself, down to his gut, reached over and tapped her shoulder. She started and jumped back, falling into a self-defence pose. Her expression betrayed no fear, no mercy, only cold hard determination to whup him. This girl could kick his ass. He raised his hands in surrender, one day he would get beaten up by a tiny girl, but today was not that day.
“Oh, sorry!” She cringed, and put her tiny, dangerous fists away. “You scared me.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Oh, all the time,” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “How can I help you?”
“My brother thinks I should get a dog.”
“Do you want a dog?” she asked, squinting suspiciously. He supposed that was fair. You couldn’t just go about giving away dogs to people who didn’t really want dogs.
Soul didn’t answer that for a second.
“He knows me better than I know myself.”
Way to start and finish a DMC with the cute girl manning the animal shelter. Way too make it way too personal and weird in a single sentence. Great job, Soul. That was really endearing.
He stopped freaking out about it when he saw the dogs, and starts freaking out about something else entirely. Namely, the dogs. There’s so many of them and he wants them all. They’re all the right dog.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?” The cute girl asked, and Soul made a go of reading her name tag, but it might as well be a twisted strand of spaghetti for all he could read it. She reached through the bars to scratch the ears of the biggest dog Soul had ever seen. Despite his huge size, he’s also the droopiest dog Soul has ever seen. It’s almost like looking at a liquid puddle of dog.
“Not sure,” Soul squatted down for a closer look at Big AF Dog, who growled low in his throat at the proximity.
With Soul’s luck, the poor sap would’ve melted within an hour of bringing him home. And judging by the way he was licking that girl’s fingers and thumping his tail in a steady rhythm against the gate, he was perfectly happy. Also, he had growled when Soul tried to go in for a closer look.
Okay. Not that one.
One dog down, about a hundred to go.
-
Puppies.
So many puppies.
And he was just. On the ground. In a happy pile of puppies, squirming around, walking like lizards, bouncing off each other. There were so many of them, wriggling into and over his lap.
“How do you not spend your whole time in here?” Soul lifted a puppy to inspect its little fat puppy belly. “Look at this. He’s so small.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you understand. There has never been a puppy this small in the entire world,” Soul insisted, offering the girl the puppy. “He is the smallest.”
“There’s literally six puppies in here that are smaller than him.”
“Impossible,” Soul was overcome with disbelief. He shook his head. There was no way. The girl laughed at him, gently lifting an even smaller puppy than the one Soul was holding as evidence.
“Oh.”
She nodded, smiling softly as the puppy wriggled free and waddled away.
Soul’s eyes caught on a puppy, which while not the smallest, was still pretty small. She was stumbling around, nosing her way slowly around the room, without interacting with any of the other puppies. A puppy without any friends? Soul could relate. He reached over and grabbed her, adjusting his grip to lift her over to his lap.
“Poor baby,” the girl said. “She’s blind.”
“What type of dog is she?” The puppy started snuffling at his fingers, licking them and trying to bat at them when he wriggled them.
“In here? She could be anything,” she gestured, and he reluctantly handed the puppy over for inspection. “Probably a husky mix? I have no idea.”
“I think that’s my puppy.”
The girl smiled at him, and it almost hid the dark circles under her eyes.
-
Of course, you couldn’t just bring home a puppy. It had to be weaned first, and Soul marked off on his calendar the day he would be able to bring his puppy home, and waited.
Impatiently, while making a list of possible puppy names. It was a tough choice, and there were a lot of iconic ladies he could name his puppy after.
And it wasn’t even his home, really. It was his great aunt’s. He just lived there.
His great aunt wasn’t dead, and even she hadn’t even stepped inside the house in five years, but Soul would be in big trouble if she found out that he moved her extensive collection of smiling ceramic children. He wasn’t even allowed to take out the stair-lift. Soul didn’t want to blame anyone for his relative solitude, but how was anyone supposed to have a few friends over to their great-aunt’s museum home?
Like you weren’t supposed to hope your relatives died but Great Auntie Meredith was a hundred and three and she had lived in a nursing home for the last decade.
Admittedly, the stair lift was pretty good at carrying heavy baskets of laundry up the stairs.
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LIST OF NAMES FOR BLIND PUPPY:
Stevie (Wonder. Self Explanatory.(they’re both blind.))
Arya (She’s badass. (also, was blind for a while there.))
Beyoncé (Insult? Compliment? How does Beyoncé feel about being my dog’s namesake.)
Shakira (She was a giraffe in that one film. She’s probably okay with this.)
Leslie (Knope AND Jones)
Lin (It may have swept the Tonies? Tonys? but Hamilton could always use more accolades.)
Rock Lee?
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“Alright Soul,” It was the same girl, hair slung in low pigtails this time, but the same dead dark bags under her bright green eyes. “Here she is!”
She was bigger than Soul remembered, but then he realised she was bigger. She was a puppy. She had growing to do. She was going to be big and strong.
“What’s her name?”
“I’m not sure yet – but I think I might call her Shakira.”
“Like the-“
“Oh, you know I am on tonight, my hips don’t lie and I am starting to feel it’s right-“ Soul cleared his throat and blushed, looking away. “Yeah. That Shakira.”
“You have such a wonderful voice!” the girl leaned right over the counter, to hear him better, “If I could sing like that do you think I’d be studying Veterinary?”
“I’m not studying Veterinary,” Soul cringed.
“Oh. I kind of forgot that there are people in this world who don’t go to veterinary college,” she shook her head to clear it. “I live in a world where everyone is studying to be a vet. Can you tell me what it’s like outside? Do they still have pumpkin spice lattes?”
“It’s January.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You missed pumpkin spice season.”
Soul put Shakira (the name was already sticking dammit) into the cat carrier he’d found under his great- aunt’s stairs. She’d outgrow it eventually, but hopefully not before he got her home.
“Okay, she has all her shots, and you already paid the adoption fee and brought the license,” the girl behind the desk check these off on her fingers. “And she got chipped earlier today – don’t worry, it’s covered in the adoption fee – so I’m just going to log on and register you as her owner on the microchip server.”
“You hear that Shakira, I’m going to be able to find you wherever you go? There’s no escape,” Soul poked his fingers through the bars and Shakira started gnawing on them. Affectionately, but those teeth were sharp.
“That’s not how a microchip works,” the girl squinted at him. “You know that, right?”
“Yes, but why don’t you tell me, just so I know that you know,” Soul grinned toothily, which was something he normally avoided and scratched the back of his neck ruefully.
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“Oh, and If you have any more questions my number is on the bottom there – don’t hesitate to call me okay!”
-
Shakira was doing fine, she was packing away the puppy chow, and doing her best not to leave little gifts everywhere. As dogs went, she was great. A perfect puppy.
He couldn’t ask for a better dog, really.
And all that meant that there was no reason to call the number scrawled on the bottom of the comprehensive list of ‘How To Keep A Puppy Alive And Well’. She probably gave that number to everyone who needed help, printing ‘Maka (from the animal shelter)’ in her neat ‘I take notes that other people can actually read’ handwriting. It didn’t mean anything.
But at least that solved the whole problem with the name, which was a definite plus.
Yeah, okay, having a cumulative couple of hours of conversation with a girl and neglecting to find out her name was Not Cool, but like. Too much time had passed. How was he supposed to have brought it up?
Thankfully, she solved the whole problem before Soul even thought about freaking out about it.
Like, he was sure it was a little early to project an idealized version of humanity on her but damn she wasn’t making it easy. One more small act of kindness and she was definitely going up on that pedestal he had around here somewhere.
Just sayin’.
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“Hey Maka? It’s, uh, Soul?” He cringed, and was tempted to hang up and ignore the inevitable ‘oh I think we got disconnected’ call.
“Oh, I remember you! You adopted that adorable little blind puppy!”
Shakira was adorable. And blind. Even if she wasn’t so little anymore.
“Yeah, uh, Shakira. Anyway…”
“Yes?” Maka prompted. “Is she okay?”
“She’s great- do you, uh, know how to train a dog to get into a chair?”
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Maka Albarn:
Where do you live, by the way?
Soul Evans:
do u have a car ill draw you a map
but basically
get real lost
then get more lost
then even loster than that
and then
my house will emerge from the fog like a bad idea in a fairytale
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According to everything Soul knew about dogs, and the literary masterpiece, Holes, carrying Shakira upstairs everyday so that she could sleep on the foot of his bed like a hairy hot-water bottle, was supposed to be something he could do indefinitely, as long as he did it every day. And he had done it every day. But today was the day, and it was a day that had come much sooner than he expected, that he could not carry Shakira up the stairs.
Maybe dogs grow faster than pigs, who knew?
Not Soul for damn sure. Maybe the veterinary student. Please god the veterinary student.
Soul had grown remarkable dependant on his dog shaped hot-water bottle. Shakira needed to be able to get up the stairs and she couldn’t walk up them. She just couldn’t do it. She could barely manage the single step up into the house from the garden and he had to gently encourage her for at least five minutes before she endeavoured upon the step.
The actual stairs had like. Twenty times as many steps.
The doorbell rang, and Shakira sprinted for cover.
She was not a great guard dog.
She had other talents.
The doorbell rang again, and Soul could hear Shakira digging herself further into the gap between the sofa and the wall. He should go answer that.
“Soul?” Maka said. “Oh hi! I thought for a minute I had the wrong house.”
“Nope. This is me,” Soul stepped back to let her in. “Make yourself at home.”
Soul was used to the elderly woman nature of his home. In fact, it had really grown on him as an aesthetic. But from an outside perspective, he could see why it might cause someone’s eyes to widen and for them to stutter a little bit before saying: “You have a lovely home!”
“I’m housesitting?” Soul tried, awkwardly, trying to block as many smiling ceramic children from view as possible with his body. “Sort of.”
“Sort of? How are you sort of house sitting?” She looked incredulous, like she couldn’t believe someone might only be ‘sort of house sitting’. “Where’s the puppy?”
Soul decided to answer the easier question, because he was afraid that his grand-aunt might bust through the door any minute and demand her vacate the premises so that she can die at home in peace and comfort.
“Hiding – can I get you a drink? Water? Yellow pack Cola? Water?” Soul said. He didn’t have a lot of options, but at least he was trying to be a good host. That had to count for something.
Right?
“No, I’m alright… seriously though, where’s the puppy?”
-
“So you want me to train-“
“To help me train.”
“To help you train this dog to get into this stairlift, because you can’t carry her up the stairs anymore?” Maka said. “Soul. She’s not even that big.”
“She’s really wriggly,” Soul sighed. “And she tries to lick my face and… it’s just a… I just can’t do it anymore. I’m afraid I’m going to drop her.”
Maka nodded, but didn’t look up from the dog she was petting.
“Why don’t you just lift her into the chair?”
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Walking a blind dog was a slow process. According to Maka – who had not-so subtly googled it before answering firmly-because Shakira didn’t get any visual stimulation it was important to let her sniff anything she wanted to sniff. Within reason. Exceptions include; stranger’s crotches, other people’s food, trash that she might eat.
And people kept doing this thing where they brought their dogs up to like… interact with Shakira, which would probably be fine if she didn’t freak every time someone did it and try sprinting to hide behind his legs and stayed there, shaking. She just… she was shy. Really fucking shy.
It took ten minutes to calm her down enough to go again, normally.
She didn’t like other dogs, and that was just fine with Soul.
He didn’t like other people, he was in no position to judge anyone for their inability to socialize like a normal member of their respective species.
So he needed to walk her when no one else would be walking their dogs.
What was chronic insomnia for, if not for walking your dog at three in the A.M?
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Very strange people come out at three A.M.
Do not, repeat, do not make eye contact.
Just walk your dog and listen to your demos.
Seriously, do not engage with anyone who is out in the woods at three A.M. on a regular basis.
Especially do not interact with anyone out for a walk in the cemetery at three in morning.
Your dog will not protect you from the edgy teenagers.
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Shakira spent a lot of the day sleeping – not that he blamed her. She was only a baby, and she had lots of growing still to do. Probably.
He wasn’t sure how big she was supposed to get, that was the trouble with dogs that ‘probably have some husky in them’. But she was packing away the puppy food, and growing like there was no tomorrow.
Soul would love her no matter how big she grew, but this little old lady house was not built for Clifford the big red dog. There were just too many breakables.
-
“Oh, hi Soul!” Maka always sounded so chipper, even though she had literally fallen asleep on the desk in the pound when Soul went by to buy dog food. More than once.
“Hey, it’s um… nevermind- shit-“ Soul fumbled to catch a falling ceramic, barely saving it with the tips of his fingers.
“Are you having trouble with Shakira?”
“No she’s perfect… I was wondering if you wanted to come over and help me pack up all my great aunt’s ceramics’n’stuff, this weekend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss!”
“She’s not dead yet.”
“Oh, sorry, I mean, ah – Sure thing!”
Soul hung up before he could say anything else stupid or vaguely incriminating.
-
Soul had a stack of newspapers, a couple of large plastic boxes from Walmart and Shakira was settled comfortable on the fancy green velvet couch he wasn’t supposed to put his feet up on in the parlour he was supposed to receive guests in probably.
You win some, you lose some.
The doorbell rang, and Shakira, as had become customary, bounded off the couch and sprinted to hide in the backroom until Soul gave the all clear.
Soul didn’t know why she bothered – the only people who came to the door were either Maka, or delivery people. No one coming to the door was out for his dog. Yet there she was, hiding in the utility room, under as much of Soul’s laundry as possible.
When Soul opened the door, he was greeted by a sackful of packing peanuts – and Maka’s muffled voice.
“Hey Soul!”
“Hey Packing Peanut Fairy,” Soul nodded, “Want me to take those?”
Maka heaved the sack into his arms in lieu of a response and jogged back out to her car to grab something else – Soul dumped the packing peanuts beside his stack of Walmart containers, and Maka met him at the door with another sackful.
“Where did you even get all of these?”
“I have my sources – but you didn’t get them from me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, no, seriously I was not supposed to take these.”
-
“She really likes you, you know.”
Maka looked down at the Shakira, who was resting her head on her head, tongue lolling and leaving a damp patch in Maka’s jeans.
“I figured – you said she’s pretty shy around other people?”
“Yeah,” Soul nodded a little too quickly, “and other dogs too.”
“Huh.”
Maka looked thoughtfully down at the dog in her lap and scratched behind her ears.
-
Soul held the ladder while Maka carried the Walmart containers- filled with ceramic knickknacks, newspaper and packing peanuts – up into the attic for storage, where they would gather dust until his great aunt either died or moved back in.
Eh, whatever would be, would be, but for the minute Soul was faced with an awful lot of empty display cabinets.
“You don’t collect like, anime figurines or something?”
“Nope,” Soul popped the ‘p’. “Any other ideas?”
“Start collecting anime figurines or something?” Maka shrugged, helping him fold the ladder back up into the attic. “Or those bobbly head things that are, like. Terrifying.”
“Why do you know so much about- you’re a nerd,” Soul gasped. “Do you collect anime figurines?”
“Pfft, no,” Maka blushed, talking fast. “They’re too expensive and I don’t have enough space.”
“You nerd!”
“What kind of people did you think become veterinarians?”
-
There was a sign posted on the corkboard in the library for ‘Doggy Obedience School’, the kind of sign someone made in Word with bad clipart and the text poorly aligned, but Soul took a number anyway.
Shakira (and Soul) could probably use a professional’s help when it came to obedience and training. He wasn’t sure how to train a regular dog, never mind a blind one, but hopefully whoever was running the course was better at training dogs than they were at making posters on Word.
‘Cause they were like, really bad at that.
-
DOGGY OBEDIENCE SCHOOL
Can’t deal with a badly behaved dog?
Whether you’re a first time dog owner or you’ve had more dogs than you can count, we could all use a little help from time to time!
Contact 555-555-555 for our professional help.
Places are limited, so make sure you book now to secure a spot on our next 5 week course.
-
Everyone else at the school was staring at Soul and Shakira, who was hiding behind his legs from all the other dogs. Maka waved from the park bench she had stationed herself at. Apparently, this was too good of an opportunity to miss out on.
“We’ll show her, right? Won’t we Shakira?”
Shakira shoved her nose into the bend of Soul’s knee, causing him to stumble slightly, before reaching around to scratch behind her ears comfortingly.
“Okay – I think – first of all, why don’t we all –“
The small pink haired person, was drowned out by the voice of the much larger, and far more intimidating man with the X-shaped scar across his face. He leaned heavily on them, addressing the amassed crowd.
Seven people, and an equal amount of dogs, by Soul’s count.
“I’m Rac, and this little wimp is Chrona,” Rac said. “Now why don’t ya step up an’ tell us about yer mutt?”
Two people turned and left, delicate sensibilities offended.
Five people, five dogs.
“Pussies,” Rac probably intended to mutter that, but it sounded an awful lot like he was yelling after them.
“Rac, you can’t, it’s rude to-“
“Shut yerself. You,” Rac pointed at an elderly man with an terrier, who jumped at the address. “Tell us about yer dog.”
-
“A husky-shepherd? An’ yer sure that’s what they said at the pound?”
“Yep,” Soul looked down at Shakira.
“An’ she’s blind?” Rac squinted at Soul like he couldn’t believe anyone would be dumb enough to adopt a completely blind dog.
“Rac, Rac-“ Chrona started tugging on Rac’s shirt, vying desperately for his attention.
“Chrona, wouldya shut yer-“ Rac groaned, rolling his eyes. “What?”
“Rac, that looks like a wolf – I don’t know how to deal with that.”
“Shut yer gob – what kind of nonsense? If that’s a wolf, then I’m the Queen of Sheba.”
-
To: ‘Professor Stein: ’
From: ‘Maka Albarn: ’
Subject: Animal Identification
Hi Professor!
Maka Albarn here – I take your Rare Species class – and I have a request, if it’s not too much trouble.
I was hoping you could spare a minute to tell me whether or not the animal in the attached photo is a wolfdog hybrid? It came into the pound I work at and we’re just not sure what it is. I said she might be a one, but that seems so unlikely.
Any information you can offer would be really helpful!
Regards,
Maka Albarn.
ATTACHED (1): shakira.jpg
-
To: ‘Maka Albarn: ’
From: ‘Professor Stein: ’
Subject: Re: Animal Identification.
yup thats a wolf
-
“Do you think we could y’know – release her back into the wild?” Soul didn’t want to bring that up, but he also felt as a responsible pet owner, he had to consider the realities of this fairly absurd situation.
“That’s how you make man eating animals,” Maka said, without looking up from the stack of books she’d taken from the college library.
“Okay. Definitely don’t do that then,” Soul was trawling the internet for resources on raising his pet wolf. “Wait. Can I even keep her as a pet? Legally? What’s going to happen to her if it’s against the law?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Google it?“
“Maka if I go to jail because you couldn’t recognise a wolf cub when you saw one-“
-
The wolf, Canis lupus, has been classified as an endangered species by the Fish and Wildlife Commission. Private ownership of a wolf requires proof of legal acquisition, health certificate, proper holding facilities. Wolf Hybrids are not classified as wildlife and therefore do not fall within the regulatory authority of the Department of Fish and Wildlife. This does not mean that local jurisdictions may not regulate or prohibit the possession of these animals. Additionally, other state or local agencies may have regulations that apply to the importation or possession of wolves or wolf hybrids.
-
“When we started hanging out I thought I would get all sorts of ‘my friend is a veterinary student’ perks,” Soul grumbled, hunched over his desktop.
“I have plenty of perks,” Maka muttered, before jabbing her finger at the screen. “That’s the one! It’s for people who buy wolf hybrids.”
“Hey, hey, be careful!” Soul swatted her hand away, “Holy shit Maka, you didn’t tell me it’d cost a hundred dollars!” Soul said, the mouse hovering over the ‘add to cart’ button amazon.com.
“I didn’t know!” Maka cringed. “It’s alright, I’m sure there’s another way to find out-“
“Don’t worry about it – and while I’m here…”
-
Mars Veterinary Wisdom Panel 4.0 Breed Identification DNA Test Kit was added to cart!
Wolfdogs A-Z: Behavior, Training & More (Wolf Hybrids) by Nicole Wilde was added to cart!
All the Loving Wolves: Living and Learning With Wolf Hybrids by Jody King and Michael Belshaw was added to cart!
Living with Wolfdogs: An Everyday Guide to a Lifetime Companionship, Second Edition (Wolf Hybrid Education) by Nicole Wilde was added to cart!
Above Reproach: A Guide for Wolf Hybrid Owners by Dorothy Prendergast was added to cart!
Dino Wolf was added to cart!
-
That was a lot of chain link fence. Really, more than Soul ever thought he’d need in his life. Of course, Soul had never really thought about needing chain link fence before in his life. Like, ever. He could honestly say that the thought had never occurred to him.
Yet here they were, trying to install eight foot chain link fence all around the property line – which wasn’t all that small and there was a wooded area.
“Alright – that’s everything we need to make sure she doesn’t escape,” Maka nodded, checking off her list. Shakira didn’t stop licking at the allegedly indestructible chew toy, trying to get the peanut butter out of the hollow core Soul had spooned it into.
“Yeah, she’s a real flight risk,” Soul said. “She can’t even climb the stairs.”
“I know that, but we still have to make sure we have this up. It’s the law – but even still, what if she gets out? She could be shot or hit by a car or-“ Maka looked around at the open edges of the property. “There’s literally nothing keeping her in here. Why hasn’t she-?” Maka gestured helplessly.
“Best guess?” Soul offered, glancing down at Shakira. “There’s no peanut butter in the wilderness.”
-
Maka wasn’t answering. His hands were shaking.
No. That was just his phone vibrating. It was a text.
Maka Albarn:
I can’t answer right now
I’m in class.
Soul Evans:
duck maka theres an envelope from the thing
Maka Albarn:
WAIT what open it open it now
Soul Evans:
i cant im too nervous
Maka Albarn:
I NEED TO KNOW.
Soul Evans:
fine
im opening it now
im doing it real ducking slow to ramp up the tension
reaaaallll slow
Maka Albarn:
I swear to god I’m going to fuck you up if you don’t text me the results immediately.
Soul Evans:
0
shakira is 0 percent a dog
u ducked that one up really badly
i cant believe they let u into vet school
Maka Albarn:
Shut up.
-
Soul should probably tell his brother the truth about Shakira, but like it was one thing to be the family fuck-up by just because generally unimpressive and failing to meet a series of impossible standards, and it was another thing to be the member of the family that managed to fuck up adopting a pet dog this badly.
This never would have happened if he’d bought a dog from a reputable breeder, but no. He had to be all conscientious in his choices and adopt a dog that might’ve otherwise spent her whole life in an animal shelter.
Still, there was nothing like a lovingly handwritten letter to break shocking news gently to your family – especially when it might get lost or take a while to arrive. It would be like telling him, but also, it wouldn’t be his fault if he didn’t actually end up telling him.
So he raided Edie’s fanciest stationary set and wrote a letter on a charmingly old fashioned floral set.
Or maybe just old. It smelt a little mouldy.
-
Wes,
Do you remember when we were kids, and you were obsessed with horses? You’re still obsessed with horses because you’re like, the highest of brows or whatever. So Mom was like ‘I’ll get you a horse Wes’ and she got you Marble, the fanciest motherfucker that ever trotted.
He was a jerk, I don’t care what you say.
Anyway, I complained to Mom, because if you’ll recall I was going through a phase of my own. Remember? I was obsessed with wolves? And I was pissed because Mom wouldn’t get me a pet wolf?
Yeah, well, nine year old Soul would think that today Soul is living the dream.
Soul.
P.S. if that was like, super vague, I got a pet wolf. She’s blind and she’s called Shakira and she’s perfect.
-
Soul’s phone was ringing, and he struggled to extract it from his pocket in time to answer it. It was Maka, and he took a few deep breathe in order to calm himself.
“Soul do you know anyone with a pickup truck?”
“What? Maka – you know I don’t? I don’t know anyone in Seattle,” Soul was baffled. “I’m not even sure what my work colleagues’ names are.”
“You have a job?”
“What-? Yes. Of course I have a job,” Soul held the phone away from his face for a second to squint at it sceptically. Not that Maka could see, but it was the thought that counted. “What did you think I did all day?”
“Listen to music? Sleep? Hang out with your wolf?”
“Nevermind – why do you want a pickup truck?”
“I found a free bathtub. I’m standing in it right now,” Maka said. “So no one else takes it, but I need a pickup truck on the scene stat.”
“Why? What is happening-? Maka, why do you even need a bathtub?”
“Sorry - I need to try calling someone else. I’ll talk to you later though?”
She hung up before he could answer. Soul accidentally googled pick-up truck prices before he could stop himself.
-
When Soul said he worked for a record label, and given his background and family legacy in music, most people assumed he worked as a musician, a producer, a low level grunt trying to work his way through the rank, something intrinsically linked with the music industry.
Soul was an inhouse graphic designer.
And if sometimes, during lunch, he went into the empty recording studio and played a song or two on the very inviting piano that lived there, who was to know any better? It’s not like he was using his job as in to make music.
His fingers just got a little itchy from time to time.
-
Soul had forgotten about the bath tub as much as any human could forget that they had failed in a cute girl’s hour of need. That was until his phone buzzed and flashed, disrupting his flow.
Maka Albarn:
Let us in.
Soul had a vague sense of foreboding, like he was about to be filled with regret. He ignored it, and hit the wall mounted gate opener anyway. His feelings had by and large proven themselves to be treacherous things.
He leaned casually against the door-frame and watched a blue pickup truck roll up his driveway. He could hear the late nineties rap blasting through the rolled down windows. Louder still, he could hear Maka and another male voice yelling the lyrics. They’d better be gifted in other areas, that was all he was saying.
Maka vaulted out the window before the truck stopped moving, in too much of a hurry to think about things like her personal safety and Soul’s nerves. She skidded to a stop in front of him.
“I got the bathtub!” She said, bouncing up on her toes. “It’s in the truck.”
“I can see that,” Soul said, too baffled to maintain his ‘casually cool’ pose in the doorway. “Why is it here though? I already have a bathtub.”
“It’s not for you - it’s for Shakira.”
“Maks, stop flirting an’ get yo’ skinny ass over here and lift!”
“One second Black Star!” She yelled back over her shoulder. “Where do you want us to put it?”
“Put what?” Soul said.
She was already helping a short blue haired man lift an ugly mint green bath off the back of the pick up. At this point, Soul decided that he’d better just roll with the whole bath situation and figure out a place to put it.
-
In the end, Soul’s opinion on the bath didn’t count for anything, because it need to be connected to his water supply. Maka smacked him when he admitted that he had no idea where his water even was and Black Star dug a metal detector out of his truck.
By the time the bath was finally set down, Shakira had mustered up enough courage to try and fit in Soul’s lap while Black Star was fitting with the bath a something he called a ball cock and float valve. Soul recognised the device from inside his toilet cistern, but still had no idea what was happening. When he asked, it turned out Black Star had stolen it from the toilet that was being discarded alongside the bath.
To top it all off, Black Star kept squinting at Soul suspiciously, which was not doing wonders for Soul’s nerves.
“Alright,” Maka said, dusting off her hands and looking at the pair of them. “I’m going to buy a few beers - Soul, gimme your wallet.”
“It’s on the kitchen counter-” Soul replied automatically. “Wait, why am I paying for the beer?”
“You haven’t contributed anything else,” she pointed out, and Black Star snorted from inside the bath. “Besides, we had to turn off the water and you don’t have anything in your fridge.”
Soul couldn’t really argue with that, and she grabbed Black Star’s keys from the jacket he’d abandoned beside the bath. Shakira’s ears perked at the sound of Maka crossing the wooden porch to go through the house, but she calmed down when Soul scratched behind her ears absently.
“Not one scratch Albarn!” He yelled after her, not looking away from his work.
“Oh, like you’d be able to tell!”
On the other side of the house, Soul could hear the truck rumbling to life. Shakira pawed at his hand where he had stopped petting her for like, a second.
Once the coast was clear and the truck had driven off, Black Star sat up quickly, and pointed his wrench at Soul seriously.
“Listen dude, if you hurt her-,” he burst out laughing, and it took a minute before he was able to speak again. “Who am I kidding? She’s going to stomp all over your heart. Commiserations bro, commiserations.”
-
“I got the beer - and pizza!” Maka called, arriving out to the back porch laden down with goodies for everyone. From the sounds that had come from the kitchen and the time she had been gone, Soul could hazard a guess that she’d also done a full grocery shop. America needed to get with chip and pin, pronto.
She had the pizzas carefully balanced with the beer, and she offers Shakira her as of yet indestructible chew toy, packed with enough peanut butter to keep her away from the tempting smell of pepperoni. Shakira got off Soul’s lap in order to gnaw at it away from any possible threats to the peanut butter.
Maka folded her legs down to sit on the ground and trust one of the pizzas in Black Star’s direction like it offended her. Soul flipped open the pizza box and turned to grab a beer but-
“Do you have a bottle opener?”
“Oh, I got it,” Maka took the bottle and… Opened the cap off with her hand?
Soul grabbed the bottle to check that it wasn’t a twist off before asking the only question that came to mind: “What the fuck?”
“Huh?” Maka glanced back over. “I used my Mama’s wedding ring - all it’s good for these days.”
She flashed the ring at him, from where she wore it on her right hand. Black Star made frantic gestures to cease the line of inquiry behind Maka. Soul ignored him and asked her to show him how it was done, handing her another bottle.
“Alright, you just bend your finger over the cap, hook the ring under the lip and…” The lid came off into her hand. “Pop!”
“How did you learn how-”
“My Papa showed me, he said no one should go to college without knowing how to open a bottle without an opener, so he dug the ring out for me.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but Soul doubted his parents even knew how to open a bottle of beer. His mom was pretty quick with a corkscrew though.
Maka admired the ring from where it sat on her finger.
“Oh, and one more thing, it has to be a hard metal, like steel or platinum.” She tapped the ring with her thumbnail. “It won’t work otherwise.”
“Bro, cause I’m sensing you to be about fifteen steps behind, I’m going to hit you with some serious exposition,” Black Star said, nodding at Maka to crack him open a bottle. “Maks carries a platinum bottle opener on her person at all times ’cause her dad wanted her to make friends. An’cause he wanted them frat bros to think she was hella off the market.”
Maka punched Black Star, not all that lightly, and opened a beer from him anyway.
“Cheers.”
-
When Soul woke up the next morning - somewhere closer to afternoon, actually - he was just a touch hungover, and he had about fifty missed calls from Wes.
He sniffed cautiously at the glass of water he’d left on his bedside table last night. Drunk Soul had a strange habit of leaving a glass of vodka for next day Soul, but Tipsy Soul could be relied upon not to do that, apparently. He could’ve left some aspirins, but hey, baby steps.
Shakira sat up, her tail thumping against Soul’s legs - she’d been up just as late as he had. She plodded across the treacherous landscape of Souls bed to nose at his face, scraping her tongue across his face a handful of times and demanding attention.
When faced with a wolf and a very full container of liquid, there is one incredibly likely outcome.
It was going to spill, and spill it did. All over Soul’s bedsheets. He sagged a little, and reached up to scratch Shakira behind her ears fondly, while he tried to maneuver away from the rapidly spreading puddle in the middle of his bed. She was a good pup really. She just didn’t know her own strength sometimes.
He edged out of the bed, and turned on his phone to listen to his voicemails while he stripped the bed.
-
You have 13 new messages.
Beep.
“Soul, it’s Wes. Tell me the letter is a joke. Tell me it’s a joke. Please. It’s a joke right?”
Beep.
“Soul, mom is gonna freak. Soul. I’m gonna freak.”
Beep.
“SOUL I AM FREAKING OUT. HOW COULD YOU ACCIDENTLY ADOPT A WOLF. Fuck. Answer your goddamn phone, Soul.”
Beep.
“-pickuppickuppickuppickupp… Soul you mothertrucker god fucking dammit- Soul that was not the kind of news you deliver via letter.”
Beep.
“That should not be the kind of news you deliver ever.”
Beep.
“I can’t believe we’re related sometimes.”
Beep.
“Soul, is this for real? Like, seriously? This isn’t a joke right? This shit is for real?”
Beep.
“Shouldn’t you give her to like a professional to rehabilitate? So she can be like, released back into the wild?”
Beep.
“Is this even legal?”
Beep.
“Did you tell Aunt Edie about this, how does she feel about a wolf living in her house? Well, actually she’s fine with you living there, so I guess a wolf can’t actually be that much worse.”
Beep.
“I can’t believe you named her Shakira. There were at least- If you ever have children, someone else should be in charge of naming them. Shakira. God.”
Beep.
“A wolf is for life, not just for Christmas Soul. You know that right?”
Beep.
“Pics or it didn’t happen, little brother.”
Beep.
You have no new messages
-
Soul took a picture of Shakira tangled in the sheets he’d just piled on the floor. She was chewing a hole in his pillowcase, but it wasn’t one of the fancy ones for the top layer of bed, so he’d just patch it later. Or, more likely, toss it and replace it with a similar cream coloured pillowcase
He liked taking photos of her, but he’d been avoiding posting them on his social media ever since the whole “that’s a wolf” debacle first came to fruition. He’d ever gone as far as deleting the photos of her that were up there already.
They were still on his phone.
He wasn’t ashamed or anything, but he was afraid of PETA, and getting a bucket of red paint poured over him. Or whatever it was PETA did to exotic animal owners. Probably burned down their house and set the animals free to like, starve in the wild and kill people.
He sent it to Wes, then went about trying to stretch the slightly too small fitted sheet over his mattress.
-
Soul smiled at the clerk uncomfortably, trying to look like a respectable and responsible wolf owner. She mostly looked tired, and like everything she was dealing with was above her pay-grade. Still, he had his plastic folder of everything the website said he needed to get a license to keep Shakira.
Well, evidence of everything the website said he needed.
The clerk blinked at the stack of photocopied documents that Soul - alright, Maka - had organized into a colour coded system.
The clerk flicked through the sheaf quickly, then scooted down on her wheelie chair to wedge it in an overflowing pigeon hole marked ‘Someone Else’s Problem’. Upon returning, she slid a document receipt to his side of the plexiglass and waved him away.
“That’s it?”
“Have a nice day.”
-
Unknown Number:
wolfwalker
bro is this u bro
please say it aint so bro
ur crushing my dreams
-
Wolfwalker
The Wolfwalker is a demon accompanied by a hellhound that has been spotted walking in the Seattle area in the middle of the night.
This article is a stub. You can help Crytidz Wikia by expanding it.
-
Soul Evans:
did u give black star my number?
Maka Albarn:
No.
You did that all by yourself.
-
Unknown Number saved as Black Star.
Black Star:
Tell me the truth bro
r u the wolfwalker
Soul Evans:
probably
-
Visit Great Aunt Edie day was the weirdest day of Soul’s month, mostly because he wasn’t sure if she didn’t know who he was because of the dementia or because of the fact that he had no recollection of meeting her before he moved out here. He wasn’t even really sure she was his great aunt.
He had a lot of relatives that were very loosely monikered. She was someone’s great aunt, and that meant she was his great aunt.
But still, he figured it was better this way, you didn’t have to know someone to play go fish with them and a handful of other residents (and sometimes small stakes poker, if the nurses weren’t looking).
-
The wikia article- stub - weighed on his shoulders in a way he could never have imagined. There was no doubt that it was him, he could tell by the three hundred dollar headphones that his brother had hot glued some lovingly handcrafted devil horns onto.
Okay, it was only an artist’s impression, but still, he could see exactly what might cause the confusion. Strange looking man, with scary dog, seen walking around Seattle at night. May or may not have devil horns, depending on what headphones went go best with his outfit.
At least his halloween costume next year was checked off the list.
Soul did not consider himself an egotistical person, but he kind of thought that when he finally got a wiki page of his own, it would ya’know. Be about him. Have some stuff on it.
At least be more than a stub, for god’s sake.
He needed to amp up his night walking skills if he wanted to get a bigger article. He added the article to his google alerts and dug out his glasses - the ones without antiglare and the barely there wire rims. He got them free with his contact subscription, and they looked like it.
-
It occurred to Soul while he was walking his usual route(through the cemetery), that he could just edit the wikia article - stub - himself. It was the kind of defeatist idea that occurs to a person when they are walking their pet wolf at three in the A.M. and really wishing that they’d brought their ski jacket.
It was cold out here.
Anyway, how hard would it be to edit the wikia page himself? Not very hard at all, if he knew anything about wikia pages. Hell, Black Star would probably do it for him, seeing as it looked like he had some credibility in the world of cryptids.
But that would be cheating.
Alright, no editing the wikipedia.
And no telling Black Star to edit the wikipedia page.
But tomorrow he was bringing his jacket. It was fucking freezing out here.
-
Soul was the first person to admit to being generally inept when it came to small home repair, so when it came time to, he figured he’d better leave the installation of the dog door to the professionals.
Well, to Black Star, self proclaimed Handi-God.
Hence, Black Star and Maka were in his house again, at least they were here under the guise of work, as opposed to the last couple of times, when they just decided to show up and hang out. Mostly with his wolf, but a little bit with his aswell.
Although Black Star had fixed the Soul’s leaky tap the last time he was here. Unprompted, but appreciated. In fact, every time Black Star came over, he could count on some small repair being made - usually when they were a little drunk and now that he thought about maybe he should get someone to look at those sober.
When they broke.
Now though, he was going to hand Black Star whatever tools he asked for, like some kind of dog-door scrub nurse, while Maka heckled them from where she was supposed to be writing an essay for one of her classes.
-
“Can’t anyone in this fucking building play the fucking piano?”
For most people, this would be considered a Big Break. Soul didn’t want a big break, he just wanted to keep designing t-shirt logos and posters and stylizing typography for album sleeves. So he kept quiet.
“Soul can play.”
Kilik, you piece of shit.
“Can you?”
Soul shrugged, hoping they’d move on to greener, more enthusiastic pastures.
“Great! Robbie got drunk last night and put his fist through a window.”
And just like that, Soul found himself in a recording studio that wasn’t deserted for a change. He’d better get a bonus for this. He wasn’t paid enough to face his demons.
-
Soul had been lenient when it came to giving out or remembering the house phone number, but it did come in a bundle with the wifi, and it was cheaper to have it than not. However, at least when the number flashed across his phone screen, he vaguely recognised it.
Well.
It flashed under the headline Aunt Edie’s Landline.
It was pretty fucked up, if you asked Soul, to answer a phone call from a number that was supposed to be yours, and you weren’t the one doing the ringing.
“Soul Evans speaking,” Soul started, cautiously, “Who, may I ask, is call-”
“Bruh, your telephone voice is whack - do you always answer the phone like that?”
“What are you doing in my house Black Star?” Soul asked. “How did you even get in?”
“Dude, you gave Maka a thing to open the gate.”
“And you thought you would just take it?” Soul was baffled.
“You really think I would do that bro? You’ve wounded me bro. Real deep. I dunno if your friendship can recover-” He was cut of by the sound of a scuffle.
“He absolutely would do that,” Maka said, having evidently emerged victorious from the battle for the receiver. “He didn’t this time, but it is not outside the realms of possibility.”
“Oh,” Soul said. “Hey Maka.”
“Hi Soul!”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you and Black Star in my house?” Soul asked. “Like. If it’s not too much trouble?”
“Oh, right well we got you a dog, and I’m moving in,” Maka said. “Although if it makes you feel better, I got a dog and we’re moving in.”
Soul hung up.
-
Befriending, or rather, being befriended by Maka and Black Star was something akin to learning to roll with the punches, both literally and figuratively. They had very different ways of showing affection than he did.
He wasn’t sure his upper arm was every going to be the same again, to be honest.
Still, when he pulled in to park beside Black Star’s truck, it occurred to him that he should make sure that he wasn’t being indoctrinated to some kind of very inefficient, mid-nineties hip-hop worshipping cult. Especially since he could see Black Star on the roof, repairing the exact buckled shingle that had been leaking water into the upstairs bathroom.
That’s what cults did. They made you feel warm and welcome and they solved all your problems then they stole your money and your organs. Probably.
Maka climbed out the living room window to greet him, in too much of a hurry to walk the five or so yards to the front door and exit that way.
“Sorry about this, down Herc-” what must’ve been Maka’s dog, but looked an awful lot like a small horse whose skin hung in heavy folds, climbed through the window after her, and transitioned into a more liquid form of dog at her feet, growling at Soul- “Professor Stein held me back after class today, Shakira needs a friend, basically.”
“I’m her friend!” Soul said. “Am I not good enough or something?”
“No,” Maka said. “You’re not. So I adopted Herc, the biggest dog we have-”
“Who doesn’t like me?”
“He doesn’t like men in general, don’t take it personally,” She said, rubbing her toe over Herc’s spine to reassure him. Soul recognised him now, Herc was the first dog that Soul’d met in the shelter. “It happens when we get dogs from homes with… with domestic abuse histories.”
Soul squatted in front of ‘Herc’ who was still growling, and made soothing noises in the back of his throat. He held out his hand, palm out for Herc to sniff at cautiously. Both of them looked up at Maka, at least until Soul got bowled over by Shakira.
This was a common enough occurrence that it didn’t even phase their conversation, which continued with Shakira sitting on Soul’s chest and scraping her raspy tongue over Soul’s face. He was going to get beard burn if he wasn’t careful, and it wouldn’t even be the first time.
“Anyway, my lease is up and my roommate is moving in with his boyfriend, for whatever dumb reason,” she raised her voice, and Soul got the distinct impression that she was aiming this at a third party.
“We’re in love, Maks, and it’s a natural progression of the relationship, so you can suck it,” Black Star’s voice drifted from the roof. “‘Sides, you introduced us.”
Soul rolled out from under Shakira and went inside to google how much he should charge for rent and how to tell if he was in a cult. They’d be bickering until they got bored or hungry.
“I didn’t introduce you - you broke in and I wasn’t home!”
“Tomayto, tomato.”
-
It turned out that living with Maka wasn’t that much different from not living with her. Sure there was an extra dog, but she’d spent a lot of time hanging around anyway, with or without Black Star.
The only real difference was that more friends started drifting into his life - mostly they were visiting Maka, Shakira or Hercules, but he nodded at them when they came through. Sometimes he even offered them coffee.
His mom would find his hosting skills abysmal but it’s not like he can bring any more shame to the family name than he already has.
There was Kidd, Black Star’s boyfriend and Maka’s former roommate.
“What are you doing?”
“Clearing out your pantry - this tin of peaches went out of date five years ago!” He waved the offending tin in Soul’s direction.
“Where’s Black Star?”
“He noticed a window that was painted shut, you know how he gets.”
Oh yeah. Those two were perfect for each other.
“Alright, as long as you’re having fun.”
Two sisters who ran a social media make-up guru empire, with the occasional venture into their unnerving and incredible sharpshooting prowess. They had their own cosmetics line, Demon Pistol, and insisted on bringing it over to make-over Maka.
Liz and Patti, the Thompson sisters.
Maka normally didn’t fight them on the make-overs, seeming somewhat resigned to them as a consequence of acquaintance.
Although, they often fought over the best approach to style their guinea pig.
“Look up.”
“Look down.”
“No, I think the Immoral Coral lip could be fun!”
Soul didn’t have anything better to do, so he sat down next to them.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, cocking his head in Maka’s direction. The sister’s looked at each other, and something passed between them, before Liz descended on him. “Make me beautiful.”
“You’re already beautiful,” Liz said automatically, like it was a well rehearsed line. “But babe, you are gonna be a knockout.”
-
This look is modelled on the gorgeous @SoulEater who only had a mild allergic reaction to #maccomestics pro longwear fluidline! #oops #stilllookscutethough
-
“Hey, little brother.”
Facetimeing with his brother was an increasingly regular event, and one that was rife with danger. His mother could be hovering right over Wes’s shoulder, ready to demand to talk to Soul. Why hadn’t he called her and his father? Didn’t he know they worried? All the rain in Seattle was making him look washed out, didn’t he know?
But Wes mostly wanted to see Maka, Shakira, and Hercules.
And Soul too, sure. Don’t forget him.
“Hey, big brother,” Soul drawled. “The animals are asleep in the laundry room, and Maka’s got a shift at the pound.”
Wes didn’t try to conceal his disappointment or if he did, he did a terrible job in Soul’s humble opinion.
“Awh, you know I don’t only call you to see them, right?” Wes said. “Sometimes I want to see your ugly mug too.”
“Sorry if my face offends your delicate sensibilities, but it runs in the family.”
“Ouch,” Wes said, like the barb was objectively, if not personally, hurtful. “Whose been teaching you to stand your ground?”
“What?” Soul shook his head. “Is there a reason for the call? Other than to see the dogs and my housemate?”
“When do I get to meet them, anyway, Soul?”
“So, I’ll take that as ‘why would I ever call to speak to you, my only brother, whom I love’, then, hmm?”
Soul hung up.
-
“Soul! I’m home!” Maka dumped armfuls of brown paper bags onto the counter. “I brought Indian, and I’m really sorry-”
“YAHOO!”
“-But, I also brought Black Star.”
Black Star wasn’t the only friend she brought, but he was the loudest, and the most likely to commit guerilla home improvements, which Soul had mixed feelings about when he was trying to sleep. And Kid was eyeing up something that wasn’t organised to his liking already, even though Soul was sure that he hadn’t made drastic changes to anything in open view since he’d been here last.
“Okay, who else needs a beer?” Soul offered. “Liz? Patti?”
“Sure,” Liz said absently, scrolling through something on her phone. “I could use a drink or fifteen.”
“I’ll get plates!” Patti said, springing forward.
“Do you know where they are?” Soul said, but the only answer he got was the clatter of dishware. “Of course you do.”
He popped the cap off a beer for himself and Liz, offering her one of the craft beers from his secret stash that everyone knew about. Apparently him and Liz were the only ones with any kind of refined palette, since he was pretty sure that Black Star’s drink of choice was turpentine, or something equally hard.
Patti started setting the enormous dining table that Edie insisted was for family gatherings, even though Soul could not recall any of his family ever gathering here.
Soul started unpacking the food, reading out the orders from the box lids and handing them around to anyone who made grabby motions in response.
-
Before dinner started, Soul had hoped that he might be able salvage some leftover Indian for his lunch tomorrow, but by the time the dust had cleared the plates were so clean it was like there’d never been any food there in the first place.
Soul felt heavy, and and not just because Shakira was resting her head on his thigh, drooling a considerable damp circle into his jeans. He was full and a little bit sleepy, and looking around, he could tell he wasn’t the only one.
Patti was sleepily tracing shapes onto the tablecloth, her eyes glazed over as she dreamed distant dreams. Liz was squinting at the empty bottles lined up in front of her, struggling to read the labels. Black Star and Kidd were huddled over one or other of their phones, snorting intermittently and Maka was lying on the floor, cooing gently at Hercules.
Black Star’s phone buzzed loudly, the beep from Kim Possible ringing loudly in the still, sleepy air.
“Soul!” Black Star flung the phone at him, and Soul scrambled to catch it. “Read!”
-
Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:
Cryptid Catalogue is coming to see Seattle if you wanna fight Noah
He’s coming to disprove the wolf walker
Like we all don’t know that’s just a guy who likes to walk his dog
He only ever goes after the easy debunks the prick
-
“Soul, bro, you made it, bro!”
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The rich infected the poor as COVID-19 spread around the world
SINGAPORE — When it arrived in the unforgiving industrial towns of central Mexico, the sand-swept sprawl of northern Nigeria and the mazes of metal shanties in India’s commercial capital, Mumbai, COVID-19 went by another name.
People called it a “rich man’s disease.”
Pandemics throughout history have been associated with the underprivileged, but in many developing countries the coronavirus was a high-class import — carried in by travelers returning from business trips in China, studies in Europe, ski vacations in the Rockies.
As infections initially concentrated in better neighborhoods, many poor and working-class people believed the disease wouldn’t touch them, as if something terrible but rarefied. The misperception was fed by elites, including the governor of Mexico’s Puebla state, Luis Miguel Barbosa, who said in March: “If you’re rich, you’re at risk, but if you’re poor, you’re not. The poor, we’re immune.”
By now it is clear that COVID-19 spares no one and disproportionately harms the hungry, the forgotten, those with preexisting illnesses and substandard health care.
But historians say it may be remembered as the first pandemic that spread, to a significant extent, from the affluent to the lowly — agitating class grievances in some of the world’s most unequal societies and adding a dark twist to a pandemic that has killed more than 270,000 people.
“At the very, very early stages it could be considered a rich man’s disease,” said Joshua Loomis, an assistant professor of biology at East Stroudsburg University in Pennsylvania and author of a history of epidemics. “But as we know, it didn’t take long to become entrenched among the poor, and that is where most pandemics gravitate.”
The rich have long erected barriers to insulate themselves — whether walls to hide slums in India or the gated communities and private jets favored among the wealthy in the United States. The well-off have been refining social distancing for years, and when contagion appears, societies’ first instinct has often been to target and sequester the poor.
During the cholera epidemic of the early 19th century, harsh quarantines of lower-class neighborhoods sparked riots in the Russian city of St. Petersburg that were suppressed only when Tsar Nicholas I sent in the army. In the 1930s, the Nazis used typhus prevention as a pretext to confine Jews to ghettos that accelerated the disease’s spread, ensuring it killed as many as possible.
But when a pandemic begins with the rich, the poor have nowhere to hide.
“Throughout history, the rich would wall in the poor to let disease wipe them out,” Loomis said. “There are not many examples of the poor having the power or the means to do that.”
The 1918 influenza outbreak was also propelled by transcontinental travel, but it is widely believed that American soldiers — not leisure travelers — brought the disease to Europe when they fought the closing battles of World War I. Tuberculosis, for a time in the 19th century, was associated with the elite because it killed a series of Romantic writers and artists. But it has always spread most ferociously among slum-dwellers and factory workers.
Since the first infections were reported in Wuhan, China, late last year, COVID-19 has been different.
The disease hopscotched around the world aboard commercial jets, quickly appearing in Japan, South Korea, Thailand and the U.S. The first case in India was detected in late January in a middle-class medical student who had flown home from studying in Wuhan.
Only Indians with travel histories were tested in the early weeks. Most of daily life ground on as normal; the maids and drivers who are the backbone of India’s cities left their crowded neighborhoods every morning to come to work in middle- and upper-class households, returning home after dark on train cars jammed with commuters.
In mid-March the first case was found in a poor person: a 68-year-old housekeeper in Mumbai. Doctors said she was likely infected by her employer, who had tested positive after returning from the U.S.
The government soon imposed a nationwide lockdown. But as infections continue to soar, Harjit Singh Bhatti, a physician and activist, said the government should have closed the international airports in New Delhi and Mumbai in early March and isolated arriving passengers more strictly.
“Those returning from abroad are obviously not poor,” Bhatti said. “If we had quarantined them in the beginning, India would be in a better position today.”
In Mexico, some of the earliest cases were detected in prominent business leaders who had traveled in private jets to Vail, Colo., for a ski vacation. They included a top banking official, the chief executive of the company that makes Jose Cuervo tequila and the chairman of Mexico’s stock exchange, Jaime Ruiz Sacristan, who died from the virus in mid-April.
In recent weeks, the virus has taken hold in some of the country’s poorest communities, including in the working-class slums that ring Mexico City and in northern border cities such as Juarez, where an outbreak at a U.S.-owned auto-parts plant has killed at least 14 workers, authorities say.
The virus has so far spared Mexico’s rural poor, in part because people in those regions have gone to extremes to bar outsiders from bringing it in. Many remote towns across Mexico have erected roadblocks manned by self-styled health vigilantes. In beach resorts up and down the Pacific Coast, some towns have expressly sought to keep out foreign tourists.
Abel Barrera Hernández, a human rights activist in the mountains of Guerrero state, said rural Mexicans simply can’t afford to get sick.
“The grave problem here is that there isn’t the infrastructure needed if people fall ill,” Barrera said. “There aren’t ventilators here. These are communities that sometimes don’t even have water.”
Stories of callous behavior by elites have spread along with the virus. A Bollywood singer refused to self-isolate upon returning from London, then attended three parties where she came into contact with hundreds of families who had to go into quarantine. The daughter of a prominent politician in Malaysia flouted a nationwide lockdown to meet with a public official but got off with a relatively minor $184 fine.
In March and April, South Korea saw a new wave of infections among privileged offspring returning home, many from universities in the U.S. and Europe that had closed their campuses. Some of the students appeared as aloof as they were careless.
One student who had a fever reportedly swallowed 20 acetaminophen pills to evade detection by airport temperature scans; another broke quarantine multiple times to go to Starbucks in Seoul.
Anger exploded when a 19-year-old from Seoul’s wealthy Gangnam district tested positive for the coronavirus after returning from college in Boston. It was reported that she and her mother had vacationed on the southern island of Jeju for five days before her test, visiting resorts, restaurants and cafes without wearing masks even though she had begun to feel ill. One of their stops was a pharmacy.
Officials in Jeju said they would sue the pair for about $100,000 in damages. A petition to the South Korean president asking that they be jailed or fined gathered nearly 200,000 signatures.
Kim Jungyoung, a sociology professor at South Korea’s Kyung Hee University, said public anxiety found a target in the students, who are seen as having been quick to leave Korea but are flocking back now that the situation looks better at home, taking advantage of the country’s free or low-cost healthcare.
“The wealthy class has the transnational advantage of being able choose to study abroad,” he said. “Now that they’re in a tough spot and coming back, to some people they seem like selfish opportunists.”
In Nigeria — Africa’s largest economy but also one of its most unequal, where two in five people survive on $1 a day or less — some of the first COVID-19 patients were political figures, including the president’s chief of staff, Abba Kyari. Some were believed to have been infected while traveling in Europe or Egypt, drawing snickers from working-class Nigerians fed up with official corruption and the perks enjoyed by a moneyed class famous for its passports and plane tickets.
“A lot of Nigerians were very happy, saying, ‘Maybe all of our leaders will get sick and we’ll get a new government,’” said Kingsley Ndoh, an assistant professor of global health at the University of Washington.
“It was seen as a ‘big man’s disease,’ so there was this low risk perception. And then community spread started taking root.”
Last month, after Kyari died of the illness, Nigeria’s health minister said the virus was no longer just “something for big men and women who came from abroad.” But the message was undermined when hundreds violated the country’s social distancing policies to attend Kyari’s funeral — many not wearing masks.
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AK Monthly Recap: February 2017
After a quiet January, I got back to the road in February with two trips that were out of the norm for me. A trip to Florida and a cruise — two very typical American vacations, but not the usual kind of trip I take. Even so, I had a blast on both trips!
Best of all, these were trips with friends — a road trip through Florida with Cailin and a cruise through the Caribbean with Jeremy.
Punctuated with some fun times at home in New York, it made for a very satisfying month. Here’s everything I got up to in February!
Destinations Visited
New York, New York
Orlando, Islamorada, Key Largo, Tavernier, Marathon, Key West, and Miami, Florida
Grand Turk, Turks and Caicos
San Juan, Puerto Rico
Favorite Destinations
Key West is one of my new favorite places in the United States!
San Juan is a fabulous city and I was happy to return.
And I’m just discovering how awesome Miami Beach can be.
Highlights
Having fun at Universal Orlando. Universal Studios was the main reason for our Florida trip. Cailin is an ambassador for the park, and part of her partnership is that she gets to bring friends with her to experience the park for themselves. She kindly invited me and I was happy to join her. We had a great time!
Some of the highlights: throwing out beads on a Mardi Gras float, going to the actual Moe’s Tavern from The Simpsons, wearing our hot pink BEST FRIENDS shirts, experiencing The Wizarding World of Harry Potter (and doing a hilarious Bertie Botts Roulette video on Facebook live!), having breakfast with the Minions, riding The Mummy over and over (flying around in the dark, fiery explosions, Brendan Fraser demanding a cup of coffee — what’s not to love?), and THE FOOD. Seriously. I did not have high expectations for the food at Universal but the restaurants at CityWalk were excellent, especially Antojitos. They made the best salmon over sweet potatoes…
Road tripping down the Keys. The Florida Keys were amazing and both fulfilled and defied my expectations. They were absolutely beautiful, gritty in all the right ways, and surprisingly a lot like New Hampshire…
Having a little too much fun in Key West. Let’s just say that at age 32, Key West is for me what San Juan del Sur was at 30, Vang Vieng was at 26, Las Vegas was at 23…it’s a fun place. And wild. And incredibly beautiful and historical as well, but still — this is a place where you come for fun. The highlight was our sunset cruise with a bunch of rowdy Boston sports fans and unlimited rosé…
Trying all the key lime pie. This was my major diet fail this month — but I did eat clean otherwise. Cailin and I decided to go on a quest to find the best key lime pie in the Florida Keys and we sampled eight different top recommended pies across the archipelago. Stay tuned for a post on the best slices!
Kicking back in South Beach. We had two nights in Miami at the end of our trip and decided to just chill out — we ate ceviche, relaxed on the beach, and vegged out at the W’s pool.
Enjoying my first cruise ever. Jeremy kindly invited me to join him on a weeklong cruise on the Carnival Vista. The cruise was split between February and March, so it seems a bit weird only writing about the first half of it here. I’m still on it as I write this, and I’m having a blast. It did take some getting used to (it was SO OVERWHELMING at first!) but once I found my zone (balcony, adults-only deck, fitness center, spa, and sushi bar), I was happy as a clam. And my favorite part was getting to know the staff. I’ll be writing more about my introduction to cruising in the future, so stay tuned.
An awesome catamaran ride in Grand Turk. We booked only one official shore excursion and it was a good one — a catamaran ride with snorkeling and a visit to a private beach. The water in Grand Turk is an UNREAL shade of blue and the beaches are fine white sand — Jeremy and I definitely chose the perfect excursion.
Revisiting Old San Juan. Jeremy and I had both been to San Juan previously, so this day was about wandering the town, revisiting some of our favorite places, and taking photos. Puerto Rico is a fantastic place and I’d love to return for a third time and see new spots (Culebrita, yo vengo!).
Meeting up with blogger buds for the first time. This month I met Hannah and Adam from Getting Stamped at Universal Orlando and Gloria from The Blog Abroad came to visit me in Harlem! It’s so nice to meet blogger friends in real life.
I also got some nice plane views over New York en route to Orlando. So pretty!
Challenges
As far as months go, there were no major personal challenges, and for that I am grateful.
From the “learn from my mistakes” files — Cailin and I decided to save money and have me be the sole driver on our Florida road trip, but we really should have paid more and shared the driving. Orlando to Islamorada took six hours and was a slog, especially through traffic around Miami!
Post of the Month
You may have noticed publishing was much lighter than usual this month. I only have one non-recap post, but it’s a good one: Where to Stay in Barcelona: Best Neighborhoods and Accommodation
Most Popular Instagram Photo
This is a bit of a misnomer — my actual most popular Instagram photo was the recipient of roughly 2,000 fake likes from a spammer that has started targeting me and a host of other travel bloggers. (Their method: give 2k bogus likes “as a gift” and then ask us to sign up for their paid service. No thanks. Plenty of travel bloggers use bots to artificially inflate their Instagram numbers, but I refuse to play that game.)
But this is the most popular photo minus the spamming — one of Key West’s legendary sunsets.
For real-time updates from my travels, follow me on Instagram and Snapchat at adventurouskate!
What I Read This Month
Whatever Happened to Interracial Love? by Kathleen Collins (2016). Kathleen Collins was one of the first prominent black female filmmakers, and she died in her 40s in the 1980s. This collection of short stories she wrote was only recently found among her belongings and published last year. Some stories read like poetry, some like prose, some like plays.
More than anything, this book is about how black women love and the sacrifices they make as a result. I loved these stories of women who fell in love, women who stayed by their cheating men, women who attempted to carve out a life of their own. You could call it a companion piece to Beyonce’s Lemonade. It’s a relatively quick read and one that I highly recommend. Category: A book by a person of color.
When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi (2016). I was afraid to read this book for a long time, despite its stellar reviews. I tend to avoid books about confronting death and grief (the same reason why I haven’t read Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking), and I didn’t know how I would handle reading about a brilliant young neurosurgeon diagnosed with terminal cancer. This book is about how he evaluates his life prior to diagnosis and his outlook afterward. I shouldn’t have avoided it.
This book is written so beautifully. The best memoirs are fascinating stories that are told well, and this absolutely fits the bill. Dr. Kalanithi wrestled with whether to become a doctor or a writer, and tentatively planned on leaving medicine to focus on writing later in life. But what a way to leave the world — this book is a treasure. I read it in one sitting. I’m grateful that I got to know Dr. Kalanithi, if only posthumously. Category: A book about a difficult topic.
What We Do Now: Standing Your Ground in Trump’s America by various authors (2017). This book, obviously published quickly following the 2016 election, is a collection of essays by liberal leaders talking about what needs to be done in the resistance against Donald Trump. Some of the authors include Elizabeth Warren, Paul Krugman, Bernie Sanders, and the first Somali-American legislator, Ilhan Omar.
I had read a handful of the essays before, including Warren’s and Krugman’s. Everything was organized by topic, from LGBT rights to the environment. And honestly, this is a very preaching-to-the-choir book, especially if you’re a liberal who follows the news, but I enjoyed reading it nonetheless and got some new insights. Category: A book with multiple authors.
Wendy Darling, Volume II: Seas by Colleen Oakes (2016). My cousin Colleen is an incredibly prolific author and the mind behind two young adult series of retold fairy tales. My favorite books of hers so far are the Wendy Darling books — a dark retelling of Peter Pan from Wendy’s point of view. These books are visually lush and much more mature.
In the first book, Wendy realizes that both Neverland and Peter Pan are far more sinister than they appear, and she escapes with her brother Michael. In the second, she joins Captain Hook and his crew as they sail Neverland, trying to stop Peter Pan with the help of bloodthirsty mermaids and deranged fairies. And if Peter Pan was sexy in the first book, CAPTAIN HOOK was sexy in the second! I love Colleen’s view of Neverland! Category: A book involving a mythical creature.
Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie (1934). I’ve actually never read a book by Agatha Christie in my life (!) but I needed a book that’s becoming a movie this year, and I got excited when I saw that not only is Murder on the Orient Express going to be a movie in December, but Leslie Odom Jr. (a.k.a. Aaron Burr from Hamilton) will be in it! It has an awesome cast: directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh with Odom, Johnny Depp, Penelope Cruz, Daisy Ridley, Michelle Pfeiffer, Josh Gad, Willem Dafoe, and DAME JUDI MOTHERFUCKING DENCH.
This iconic mystery takes place on the Orient Express from Istanbul to Calais in the 1930s. A passenger is murdered and the train gets stuck in a snowstorm, which means the murderer is one of the passengers in the car. Good thing detective Hercule Poirot is on board and is able to deduce who the killer is.
One thing I didn’t expect…the surprising amount of casual racism about Italians and Italian-Americans. According to one character, the Italian must be the murderer because Italians love to stab people…That said, it’s a reminder that Italians and Irish were once treated with the prejudice and scorn that Muslims, Latinos, and Africans receive in America today. I’m eager to see how they modernize the film. Category: A book that’s becoming a movie in 2017.
What I Listened To This Month
“Etunnel” by Primary feat. Gaeko. Another one of Spotify’s picks for me (seriously, Spotify knows my tastes inside and out), this is a lovely Korean electronic/hip-hop song with a touch of Burt Bacharach. Give it a listen; I bet you’ll love it!
Fun fact: I didn’t even know it was Korean until I looked it up just now…
What I Watched This Month
I’ve started watching Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix. This comedy stars Drew Barrymore and Timothy Olyphant as boring-yet-happy realtor couple living in the suburbs with a teenage daughter — until one day Barrymore’s character suddenly turns into a zombie and starts eating people.
It’s not the sharpest or most cutting-edge comedy of all time, but it’s wacky and I love it! The cast is great, and it has a very sweet message of doing everything you can to protect your family, even if that means killing people you can’t stand in order to eat them.
What I Cooked This Month
No pics, but I am cooking these turkey spinach burgers all the time. They’re super healthy and a good source of protein, and I love making four at once so I have a few ready to go in the fridge! Plus, they look like Oscar the Grouch.
Four pieces of advice: 1) This recipe calls for a truly insane amount of spinach — just go with it. 2) Be very gentle when mixing the turkey; if you mash it too hard it will be too dense. 3) They will fall apart if you grill them, so bake them in a glass dish. 4) Top them with avocado or guacamole — it’s the best! Avocado is my main substitute for cheese these days, and I find it just as satisfying.
Fitness Update
I’m still working hard on my fitness and I think I’ve been making progress at a much faster rate lately. Something has shifted — I work harder and better and am feeling great!
That said, this was also my first month traveling since starting my fitness regimen, and it was challenging to keep up workouts and eat well on the road. I could have done better with both, but I’m glad neither trip turned into a gluttonous free-for-all, as it would have in the past.
I tried two new classes this month — Pon de Flo with Oneika, and IMAXShift with Beth. Pon de Flo is a Caribbean dance class in SoHo that includes HIIT segments — think Zumba but with more push-ups. IMAXShift is a spin class in front of an IMAX screen located in DUMBO — you ride through space and lasers and the sky.
I only lost a few pounds in February, but I don’t mind — according to my body analysis I’m gaining a ton of muscle, which is heavier and cancels out a lot of fat loss. Weight isn’t as important as you think. More important is that I look and feel different — especially in my face, my upper arms and my thighs. And I’ve lost three inches off my waist since December.
Also a bonus: I went bathing suit shopping and found three suits that I loved and felt great in!
Coming Up in March 2017
I have a few more days on the cruise at the beginning of March, and beyond that, I have no travel plans scheduled in March. Which, once again, is great. I feel like I’m actually starting to live my goal of traveling 25% of the time or less.
I do have a lot I want to do in New York this month, including visiting the new Golden Girls cafe in Washington Heights, so stay tuned for more local coverage!
Plus, Cailin is coming to stay for a few days (amusingly, she’ll already be at my place when I get back from the cruise). I’m also looking forward to hosting my book group at my apartment, which is shockingly the first time I’ve invited more than two people into my apartment simultaneously!
What’s coming up for you in March? Share away!
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