#australia would be in shambles

[steakout-05]

in love with this new official multiplayer art someone posted as a screenshot in the jj discord

two of them!!! two barrys!!!! i LOVE how grumpy the right one is, lookat him he's so angy, grumpy little guy <3

[dudadragneel]

Hey guys it's me!

How are you?

I'm back with another original of mine!

I hope you'll enjoy!

And stay tuned! There's a really long fic coming up soon 👀

Spending the night in the bathroom because he got food poisoning

KEEPING HIM COMPANY

Goddamn these hectic schedules and how they affected the members' health.

They were on vacation, finally, and Chan, like always, would spend time with you and then would take you to Australia to stay with his family.

So far the perfect planning for a much-awaited vacation. But things went wrong on day one.

You decided to spend part of the day out and eat lunch at a newly-opened restaurant.

Good decision?

It would later be proved to not have been.

The food tasted delicious and it was quite the generous serving and you both knew the boys would love it if they were there.

You two talked about what you'd like to do while he was in vacation, like dates, romantic nights, trips etc.

Everything was going well, until it wasn't.

By the time you got back to your apartment, Chan was feeling under the weather, which was weird because he was feeling perfectly fine a few hours before.

He had cold sweats and his stomach was churning and gurgling loudly. It was burning and it felt heavy. Yes, he did eat a lot, but it was a different kind of heavy, he felt bloated. Not only felt, it was quite visible.

You were lying down on the bed, watching some series and you noticed Chan was restless, he kept moving and even hissing from time to time.

- Love? Are you okay?

- Yeah...it's just my stomach...it feels weird.

- Weird how?

- I don't know, maybe indigestion? It's kind of burning.

- Well, you ate a lot so it could be. I can make you some tea or do you want some medicine?

- I'm not sure medication is a good idea right now. I'll take the tea.

- Okay.

You left the bedroom to get him some tea to help with the burning sensation in his stomach and hopefully help it digest the food.

When you got back, Chan was curled up, looking like a baby kangaroo.

- Hey~ here's the tea. I didn't add any sugar so it might be a little bitter.

- Thanks... ugh- yeah, that's definitely bitter.

He added, making a disgusted face, earning a laugh from you and then smiling at you fondly.

The tea helped a little, at least in the beginning.

But what was going on inside his body was worse than just indigestion and he'd find that out pretty soon.

⏳

Despite being on vacation you still had one more thing to work on before you were 100% free, so you took you computer to bed and lay down next to Chan with him curling up one more time. Something was making him feel uncomfortable and you knew it wasn't just a simple case of indigestion.

As he was leaning on your shoulder, you started to rub his arm and then stroke his curly hair while he tried his best to focus on you working and ignore the increasing discomfort in his stomach.

He loved to see you so passionate abou your work, just like you did with him, with the countless times you stayed with him in his studio.

But no matter how much he tried, his stomach was in absolute shambles and burning. The awful sensation was growing stronger by the minute and he gave up on trying to deal with it on his own.

- Babe...

- Hmm? What is it?

- Can you rub my stomach? It's hurting really bad...

- Of course, honey. But don't you wanna go to the bathroom?

- No, at least not now.

- Okay, then. Come here.

You put you computer to the side and put another series on TV again while he lay down on your lap.

You started to rub his stomach up and down, and you could feel it rumbling under your touch, as well as how bloated it was.

Chan's expression would turn into one of pain and discomfort every now and then, but he was enjoying the feeling of your hand.

He had one of his hands buried under your thighs because that brought some sort of comfort for him.

But as you kept rubbing his stomach, it let out a loud gurgling noise and Chan unconsciously gripped your thighs and clenched his other hand.

Something was starting to move up inside of him and he could already feel the foul taste in his mouth.

- Honey, can you stop for a while? I'm gonna throw up-

He said covering his mouth to suppress a gag, quickly getting up from the bed and dashing to the bathroom with you following close behind.

He almost didn't make it to the toilet before vomit escaped through his fingers, the lunch he had coming back in disgusting undigested chunks.

- Oh god.

You stood next to him and started rubbing his back which was heaving under your hand, and for some reason felt a little hot.

He kept on retching until more vomit came out, a little thicker this time hurting his throat on the process.

- Oh baby. You're doing good.

You reassured patting his back and kissing the top of his head.

- It feels horrible....

- Do you think it was the food?

- Maybe...we had different dishes-

The sheer mention of food triggered his stomach again, sending more content up.

- There we go, just let it out.

After a few minutes he was left dry heaving and coughing.

- Do you feel any better?

- Not much. It still feels heavy.

- And the nausea?

- It's still here but less annoying.

- That's good enough. Why don't you take a shower? Maybe you'll feel a little better.

- Okay.

- I'll bring you some clothes.

- Thank you.

The shower although good, didn't really help with his situation. The cramps continued, the nausea kept coming and going, exactly like waves. He actually had to bend over the drain a few times but nothing really came up.

He thought that after throwing up he'd feel better but he kept on gagging, so he knew by now this could pretty much be a case of food poisoning.

And he'd soon find out he was right, unfortunately.

Finishing his bath, he was feeling more tired than before and hot, even if he'd just taken a cold shower.

You had gotten the bed ready while he was showering and was waiting for him to join you.

- Did the shower help?

- Not that much... I kept gagging all the time.

- Did you throw up again?

- No, but I'm still nauseous.

- Wanna try some medicine now?

- Yeah.

You gave him a gel capsule of an antiemetic and he gagged when it went down but thankfully it didn't come back up.

He cuddled on you, blanket covering his slightly shivering body and you proceeded to stroke his hair again, playing with it's curls and tracing patterns on his face, noticing it felt a bit hot to the touch.

- Honey, you're a little hot.

- Yeah, I noticed that when I walked out of the shower and I do feel a bit cold, actually.

- Lemme check it. 37.5°C. That's a low grade fever but I don't think it's anything to worry about now. But if it gets higher then you probably got food poisoning.

- I hope not.

- Want something to eat? Soup? Anything?

- I don't know if I can keep anything down but I'm also a bit hungry...

- I'll make something really quick. You don't need to eat everything just a bit okay?

- Okay.

You prepared him some light snacks, which he managed to eat a good amount and it did sit well with his stomach. And then he lay down on your chest again.

You went back to stroking his hair while he gently caressed your thigh and within a few minutes you were both fast asleep.

But the peace didn't last long.

⏳

About 1h30 into the night, Chan broke in cold sweats, his stomach was gurgling again and doing flips, he could feel the contents sloshing around. He tried to change his position but it didn't work.

The nausea he was feeling earlier had gotten really worse and his mouth started salivating. He was shivering which indicated the fever probably got higher.

Something started to creep up his chest and it felt like a burp but when he tried to let it out, he was betrayed by his body as it brought up a little amount of acid liquid. He knew he was gonna throw up sooner rather than later and he didn't want to bother you, so he quietly got out of the bed, suppressing a gag triggered by the sudden movement and locked himself in the bathroom.

⏳

He bent over the toilet but still tried his best to hold it because he knew that the sound would wake you up, and that's the last thing he wanted to do.

Leaving his mouth open, he started off only gagging unproductively and making as little noise as possible.

His body kept rocking back and forth and he was swallowing hard everytime, still trying to prevent himself from throwing up.

But his body really needed to get that out and it didn't matter what he wanted.

His stomach contracted making him gag one more time but he insisted on not vomiting and swallowed it back, but that proved to be a wrong move.

He ended up choking and that triggered a coughing fit which brought out his dinner, splattering in the toilet.

At the moment, he heard you calling out his name.

Shit!

He thought to himself, he knew you were tired and really didn't want to bother you in the middle of the night.

- Babe?

You called sitting up on the bed, taking a few seconds to properly wake up and then you heard a retch and the sound of liquid hitting liquid.

- babe? Are you okay?

You asked with a worried voice getting up from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

When you opened the door, Chan was throwing up one more time and you rushed to his side, sitting on the bathtub and started rubbing his back.

- Oh honey...why didn't you call me?

- I didn't want to wake you up.

- Please don't worry about me...

You said, voice sounding concerned with a tiny tone of annoyance.

He coughed up another thick bout that came out of his nose making him choke and gag productively again.

- Oh my dear. That's it, just let it out. You're doing good.

When the next wave came out he ended up swaying forward and you quickly reached out to hold his forehead and noticed it was burning, compared to before.

- Babe, you're running a fever. This is looking like food poisoning.

You said with a worried and sad expression on your face, knowing how the next few hours and days would go by.

- Lemme check it.

You placed the thermometer under his armpit and helped him hold it there.

The numbers were almost alarmingly high, 38.9°C.

- Babe, what else are you feeling?

Chan rested his head on his arm, not really trusting himself to get his face away from the toilet.

- Dizzy, cold, sweating and nauseous.

- From the looks of it, it's definitely food poisoning...

- That's just great...

He said with a sarcastic tone and burying his face in his arm.

- I'll get you some water okay?

He just nodded, gulping down the awful taste in his mouth.

You came back with a bottle of cold water and handed it to him, while sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.

He took a few sips and rested his head on his arm again. You kept rubbing his back and stroking his hair, trying to comfort him.

But his stomach protested against those small sips of water and within a few seconds, it came right back up not giving him time to even change his position.

- Oh honey...

You cooed still rubbing his back again and yawning a bit. But oh boy was that a mistake. He loathed the idea that he cut your sleep short and your yawn just added to that.

- Honey, you can go back to bed, I'll be fine.

- No, Babe, I'm okay, don't worry about me.

- But you're tired, please. I want you to rest.

- Chan, I won't be able to rest knowing that you're sick and puking your guts out.

He chuckled at the last sentence but he was still sad that you were denying good hours of sleep to stay with him.

And again, his stomach was just determined to make him suffer and contracted strongly sending up a thick stream of vomit that soiled the entire inner part of the toilet. Neither the sound nor the sight were exactly pleasant.

After he threw up one more time, you knew for sure it would be a long night and Chan wouldn't be out of the bathroom anytime soon. And you wouldn't leave his side, because although he always wanted to deal with things on his own, deep down inside he subconsciously wanted comfort and he always found that when he was with you.

So you considered all the options and decided to camp out in the bathroom.

- Honey, wait here just a moment.

You went back into the bedroom and got a few blankets and pillows and came back, then organized them on the floor so you could make the spot as comfy as possible.

- What are you doing?

He asked with a raspy voice and a tiny smile.

- Well...you've got food poisoning and I don't think you're leaving this bathroom anytime soon and I won't leave you in here alone so..... we'll "sleep" here.

You answered him with a smile and laughing a little bit, trying to lift the mood.

- I'm sorry for making you do this....but thanks.

Chan said leaning on you and closing his eyes, trying to enjoy the moment of peace his stomach allowed him.

- You're welcome, honey.

⏳

The night was indeed long like you predicted with Chan vomiting more times than you could count and only getting enough sleep. His fever kept oscillating and in-between rounds of vomiting you managed to help him take at least two baths.

When morning rose, both of you were completely exhausted and if any of the boys were to show up at your house, they'd probably be scared because you had a complexion just like Samara's.

But by that time, Chan was feeling a little better or at least well enough to stay in the bedroom with a bucket instead of the cold floor of the bathroom.

You made him breakfast, which he managed to keep down until lunch but then it started again, after all it was food poisoning, just one night of continuous vomiting wouldn't do the trick.

After about 4 days, Chan felt like all the life had been sucked out of him but you made sure he ate every single meal that you made him to regain what he'd lost.

And he made sure you were pampered like you deserved after going through so many sleepless nights with him.

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

Do you have any ideas on how to world build a massive overpopulated city but it isn't dirty or in shambles. Basically, everything is neat, clean and works well. Just a massive population density. I'm thinking 30k people per km2 with a total area of 1200km2. When I find images or descriptions of such high density populations I often see buildings that kind of look all rundown and slummy (not to mention high crime rates and poor if not in poverty) Or is that like.. impossible if you have such a massive crowd in one spot?

Tex: “Overpopulated” implies “more residents than the infrastructure can accommodate”. What’s considered dirty or in shambles is the result of a garbage disposal system that isn’t structured to the amount of residents + guests (tourists, relatives, holiday-goers, etc). To have a city or other area properly equipped with the amount of employees to maintain sanitation and employees to repair buildings degrading over time, it must have properly-allocated funds, and enough of it. This is at its core a governance and taxation issue, not a morality issue of “just don’t make it dirty”. Crime and poverty are the natural result of neglect by one’s government, both at a local and larger level, which requires a lot of forethought in the amount of space an individual needs to live in private and public spaces.

Utuabzu: I’m going to assume you want a prosperous city with very high density. Happily for you, there are many examples of this in the real world. Density occurs when the demand for living/working space in an area is greater than the physical space available, meaning it is worthwhile to create more space by building upwards. This naturally occurs in the centres of all cities, because proximity to one another is a big draw for both people and organisations. In the absence of any limiting factors, this is usually counterbalanced by cost making it cheaper to build outwards and simply accept longer travel times, resulting in a relatively gradual gradient of density from rural periphery to urban core.

You get greater density when there are limiting factors on outward expansion. These can be geographic, like in the case of Singapore, Hong Kong and Manhattan (all islands), legal, like in the case of Vancouver, London and many other cities (laws and policies preserving green belts or valuable farmland), or political, such as was the case for Hong Kong and still is for Singapore (an international border acting as a constraint). Often it’s more than one of these. While places like Kowloon Walled City can exist - and it in particular is a very interesting case study in urban form - for the most part very high density occurs when people want to live and work somewhere, which usually means it’s a pretty nice place to be (at least in comparison to the other options anyway). Tokyō is the world’s largest city, with 36 million people (11 million more than the entire continent of Australia), but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone accuse it of being dirty or in a shambles.

It is also worth noting that density doesn’t necessarily look like skyscrapers towering overhead. Paris has a population density of almost 25k/km² when one excludes the outlying woodland park areas, and is predominantly mid-rise buildings. The 11th Arrondissement of Paris outdoes what you ask for, with a population density just under 40k/km², and is mostly historic midrise buildings. Other European cities like Barcelona, Naples and Thessaloniki have a similar development pattern, largely due to having been built mostly before elevators existed or were commonplace, which naturally limited building heights to around 5 to 6 floors (any higher becoming increasingly impractical for the sheer number of stairs).

Feral: The International Residential Code has the minimum size required for a house to be 120 sq ft/11.1 sq m. That’s a pretty standard secondary bedroom size in suburban USA. Your population density would have one person per 33.3 sq meters, which sounds great except that doesn’t account for any non-residential use space. Given your desire for the entire city to be exceptionally well-maintained, free of crime, and presumably a wonderful place to live, that means you need great air quality, multiple green spaces, art, food, entertainment. And your city’s overall size is massive. It’s 20.5 times the size of Manhattan, 11.3x the size of Paris, and 1.6x the size of Singapore - to name a few of the cities brought up in previous answers. This kind of sprawl does not make for good urbanization - just ask the city of Los Angeles, which is almost exactly the same overall size as what you’re aiming for but has a tenth of the density.

A few articles to get you started on density, urbanization, and sprawl:

Cities Really Can Be Both Denser and Greener by Emma Marris

Is There a Perfect Density? By Michael Lewyn

When is density good, and when is it harmful to cities? By Philip Langdon

Making cities more dense always sparks resistance. Here’s how to overcome it. By David Roberts

[chromatic-lamina]

Oda packing the punches: Chapter 1086 spoilers

Okay, I'm not doing a long one like last week, but heaps to take in, and I adore the idea of all of the notorious, prestigious and sought after stowaways on the ships leaving the Marie Geoise shores.

The ones from the new world must do so with World Government (Marine) assistances, right?

And Tajine Kingdom (Bonney stowed away on their ship) and St. Aegis kingdom (Walpol and Vivi stowed away on theirs) were World Government member nations, and both rebelled. I wonder why.

My main reason for being here, though is:

this!!!!!! 👆

Look at our bow-legged bird, even in seraphim form. Crocodile's beauty is as glassy-eyed (sad-eyed, dead-eyed?) as Boa Hancock's and Mihawk's, and Moria's looking pretty good too.

So, the seraphim are being employed to basically destroy their makers (the original Hancock, Mihawk, etc.—not that we've seen a Mihawk/S-Mihawk fight yet). There has to be a Trafalgar Law one. Oda wouldn't pass up the opportunity, I think. Although, if it will convolute the story, that one might be left to us fan-fiction writers.

Lots of other stuff. Massive catch up, lore drops. The destruction of Lulusia seems to parallel Marshall Island Atoll nuclear tests or Maralinga in the centre of Australia, or so many others, and more linearly (time-wise) the U.S. government's nuclear testing in New Mexico before the ultimate bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Robin has apparently told the revs:

that the ancient weapons exist (as Ivankov lets us know above).

And more parallels here with the Einstein / Vegapunk thing, and what their research can be harnessed for, or what they might directly contribute to without and possibly with knowing the consequences.

Iva suspects that the attack has nothing to do with Vegapunk (although maybe I misread the panel—it seemed that Imu thought it was Vegapunk's work, but Imu might've been referring to the seraphim).

Iva suspects that Imu is

Imu of House Nerona (one of the original founders of the Celestial Dragons / Word Government / Mary Geoise), so, from the void century and granted eternal youth through the ope ope no mi, although the fruit is not mentioned by name. Whether the revs' don't know it's granted from a fruit, or whether they're playing coy, is not apparent. It seems the former.

As a founder, they (Imu) could possibly have knowledge of the ancient weapons.

So, as an aside, considering the original granter of the eternal fruit would have died as per their fruit's power (Lili?) then there must be more people around with eternal youth too, right?, because others would have consumed the fruit, and 800 years is a long time.

Anyway, briefly onto Lili; if she had the ope ope no mi, she could've shambled the poneglyphs the world over as a very awakened form of the fruit, and maybe granting Imu eternal youth is what caused her death. I don't think that's my idea. I probably read it somewhere, but I can't recall where.

For the above, I love that Robin's dropping massive intel into the Revolutionary Army's lap.

Seems that Sabo will be a D. too, from this statement below 👇 . I'd prefer he wasn't, but, whatever!

Sabo is definitely surrounded by them! And that 'checkered fate' line is used a lot. I know there are a few translations on it.

Lastly, and it's not only the last (like, for instance, Walpol won't tell Vivi about her Father, CPO are running around with pictures of Vivi and Sabo to folks in Mary Geoise, Sterry (Sabo's brother) doing a Sanji when sighting Vivi's picture, and Big News Morgans filling the reader in on how he managed to pick up Walpol and Vivi (we suppose)): BUT possibly one of the biggest pieces of news is:

that Saint Donquixote Mosgard will be executed due to protecting Shirahoshi 👆 , thereby running parallels with Homing, except that Mosgard was effective with his compassion, but will also pay with his life, as did Donquixote Rosinante (and his father). And

The person tasked with the execution is the former king of God Valley, and I know there's a lot of Rocks D. Xebec info about God Valley that's basically all over my head at present (will read up on it later, or read someone else's meta).

But as importantly, or maybe more importantly, is this guy's name: Saint Figarland Garling. Shanks, was stated by the Gorosei in Film Red (although I missed this section, or forgot it) as coming from the Figarland family (he was discovered in a box that the Roger Pirates stole during the God Valley Incident).

Ahahahah. I love all the influences though: Good Donquixotes, and then Donquixote Doflamingo. Entitled Figarlands, and then good Shanks, or maybe not... (I believe he's good, but Oda always turns the tables on me, and everything's grey, even when characters have positive aspects).

So, yeah—there's a ton of stuff. Go have a read or wait for the official, but the scans gave the elders their names, so I'll just drop that too, and a translators' note that was interesting:

Read below for their processes in naming:

Okay as said, I didn't cover everything, but ALSO, look at this gorgeous cover (Oda can't be ignorant that it's pride month)

I love the little frog. It's a reader's request: Chopper and a kitty crossing the reflection of a rainbow they see in a puddle. Cute! The reflections look great too.

Also, don't forget this guy:

[existencebringsonlypain]

hey I lost motivation. can you praise my writing so I'll keep doing it

the ringing reverberates in their head.

they keep walking.

they don't have a choice in any of this.

they keep walking.

his voice echoes in their head. those horrid metal screeching noises accompanying it, too. they must've gotten really loud, because they couldn't make out the puppet's parting words through the ringing.

then again, that might just be the lack of oxygen.

they keep walking.

their autonomy is little to none, but there are a few things they control. or, don't control, they're all involuntary reactions. shivering, flinching, expression, tears. hyperventilating, as it turns out. not even a demon possessing their soul can stop the panic attacks.

anxiety attacks? they needlessly ponder the distinction in their head. they want to search it up, but their phone doesn't work in the dark worlds. also they don't have control of their arms, and if they did, they'd probably end up dropping their phone.

they keep- ....... it keeps walking.

not their choice, not their legs, not their lungs. they only hope the sheer panic coursing through their veins is felt by it, so it gets some punishment for its wrongdoings. and maybe because they don't want to be suffering alone.

it keeps moving their legs, putting one metal-clad foot in front of the other.

they can't breathe.

weird.

they always do this, it's like their brain and soul are seperate. brain and SOUL. whatever. but whichever part of them is paralyzed with terror isn't what's thinking these thoughts, because otherwise they're pretty sure said thoughts would be more akin to incoherent screaming.

they want to scream, it would probably be cathartic.

they don't get a choice in the matter.

left leg hits the floor. right leg hits the floor. the impact rattles their spine. it doesn't normally do that, they think. their ears don't normally ring like that either, and their vision isn't supposed to be this spotty and dark, right?

oh, they're slouching a lot. that makes sense, their steps would be more impactful then. but then why would that thing be making them slouch?

they stop walking. probably because they are now on their knees, that computes.

they should get up now, they think idly. just like they should take a breath out, jeez, what are they doing? their lungs are full, but they keep trying to take in more air without letting any out. that's really dumb and obvious, why are they doing that.

oh. susie's shaking them by the pauldron on their shoulder. they really should acknowledge her in any way, they think pointedly at the being holding the strings. alas, they are in no control of what's going on here.

their head thumps onto the concrete in front of them as the lack of oxygen finally catches up to their brain.

"What the fuck is going on?"

She presses the left arrow key a handful of times. Something fucked up, maybe some error in the cutscene sprites? They started doing the weird zombie-Kris shamble they do when they take out her SOUL, and now they're just doing the collapsed position and none of her inputs do anything. That's probably not how cutscenes work, but she doesn't code, she wouldn't know.

She reattempts the menu and sighs as it does nothing. Stopping to deliberate what to search up to adequately describe this bug, she gets out her phone, only to put it down again when Susie moves.

* What the fuck?!

Yeah, good question, Susie. Where was that in the script??? This was supposed to be a swear-free game. It has been up to this point.

* What the fuck?! Kris! Get up! What the hell!

Oh. This was... Intentional? Huh?? Is this what got the game rated in Australia, instead of piss?

Susie looks to be shaking Kris on the shoulder like at the start of chapter 2, but it looks a bit wonky due to the different in height they're at now.

Suddenly, the GOOD animation gets brought out? But only to have them thump their head on the floor, dealing a hefty 122 damage. What?

* KRIS?! SHIT. FUCK. RALSEI, HEALING SPELL.

What the fuck is going on? Ralsei shakes his head- guess the budget went to him to- and... flaps his hands? Paws? Oh, alright, autistic character headcanon time. She doesn't even like Ralsei!

* This isn't- This isn't in the script, what's going on?

HAH. Ralsei agrees. Love the fourth wall break. She notes that Ralsei's the one who brought it up, he knows about the script. She KNEW something was up with him! And he's STILL treating Kris like they're less important than keeping the game on track and entertaining her!

aaaand that's where I ran out of steam

[qnewsau]

Joaquin Phoenix quits racy gay flick just days before filming

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/joaquin-phoenix-quits-racy-gay-flick-just-days-before-filming/

Joaquin Phoenix quits racy gay flick just days before filming

Sad news for queer film fans: Joaquin Phoenix has abruptly dropped out of a new gay drama film directed by Todd Haynes just days before filming was set to start, throwing the production into chaos.

Indiewire, Variety and Deadline claimed the actor got “cold feet��� and confirmed the project is shut down altogether with no plans to recast the role.

Todd Haynes, the out filmmaker who made the controversial and camp May/December last year, was set to direct the 1930s-set love story.

Last year the director said the film “challenges you with the sexual relationship” between the two men.

“What was so remarkable is that it all started with Joaquin having some ideas and some thoughts and just questions and images,” Haynes told Variety last year.

“And he came to me and said, “Does this connect to you at all?’ And I was like, ‘Yeah, this is really interesting.’”

He said the film would have “explicit sexual content” and it was reportedly so explicit the film would carry the NC-17 rating in the US.

Todd Haynes said that Joaquin Phoenix was the one “pushing it further into more dangerous territory, sexually”.

Joaquin Phoenix departure kills entire film

Joaquin Phoenix was set to star opposite the Top Gun: Maverick actor Danny Ramirez, who only joined the film last month.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Danny Ramirez (@dannyramirez)

But Joaquin dipped, leaving the production in shambles and effectively cancelling the whole thing, the publications reported.

“Multiple stakeholders on the Haynes project — from financiers to crew — still need to be compensated,” Indiewire reported.

Queer film fans had a lot of thoughts about the bizarre development.

‘Get your ass back on set, Joaquin!’ pic.twitter.com/gb7x3vWw6W

— Reel and Roll Films (@reelandroll) August 9, 2024

Joaquin Phoenix quitting the gay movie he wrote for himself: pic.twitter.com/SsADtAoKRL

— Tom Zohar (@TomZohar) August 9, 2024

Joaquin Phoenix leaving this project days before filming starts despite being the one to pitch it in the first place pic.twitter.com/Bip4HK2xts https://t.co/FOnPeUFJH8

— depressed sinn stan (@sameolegal) August 9, 2024

Obviously I don't know all the details about the Joaquin Phoenix/Todd Haynes situation but imagine wasting the time of one of the greatest living filmmakers but following through on a Joker sequel

— Drew Burnett Gregory (@draw_gregory) August 9, 2024

one movie with lady gaga and Joaquin said okay no more gay shit

— soapy hadid (@soapyhadid) August 9, 2024

joaquin phoenix put the Q in LGBTQ today (he thought it meant being a quitter)

— JP (check again) (@2Ply_Bi_Guy) August 9, 2024

joaquin phoenix youll neva be them https://t.co/krMCS5CHIa

— robbie (@Robertvrse) August 9, 2024

You know how you avoid this? Hire a LGBT+ actor to play a gay character instead of Joaquin Phoenix! https://t.co/zcEP5HqYA6 pic.twitter.com/e5O9AmekDl

— A. Asher (@Grammaticator) August 9, 2024

Joaquin Phoenix will share the screen with Lady Gaga in his next movie Joker: Folie a Deux, which premieres on October 4.

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[jvmvricodasteppa]

➝ J₳ĐɆĐ, ₱₳Ɽ₮ Ø₦Ɇ.

𝚃𝚘 𝙼𝚢 𝙻𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚜𝚝 - 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐𝙱𝚘𝚢 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

JAMARICO stood before the mirror, his bruised and battered face reflecting the pain and sadness that consumed him. As he stared at his reflection, a flood of memories overwhelmed him, transporting him back to the moment everything changed.

Ocean Farm Villa, the Group Australia trip. Soleia, the woman he once loved, suddenly fell ill upon their arrival. Uncertainty filled his mind as he wondered if she was pregnant. Seeking confirmation, she turned to her friends, Apple and Kartier, to take a test. When she returned to the room, she delivered the news. The baby. He felt a surge of excitement, even shedding a tear. But doubts crept into his heart when he observed how she interacted with other men. The way she moved, the whispers behind his back. They led him to question her faithfulness, and in a moment of impulse, he made a statement that shattered their relationship. He doubted the baby was his, igniting a fierce fight with Reggie, an altercation he could have walked away from. That was the turning point. Jamarico knew he was no longer the same. His once passive, nonchalant self gave way to aggression and unrecognizable behavior. He found solace in the arms of a friend, even though he knew deep down that she deserved better than his self-destructive tendencies.

And then, New York happened. He was at their house, trying to give Soleia space, when he received a text from his best friend, Kartier. A urgent request to meet at a hotel. Confused yet intrigued, he left Soleia behind and rushed to meet Kartier. Little did he know that this decision would be yet another mistake. At the hotel, he discovered the truth that shattered his world. Soleia had cheated on him with Kartier's man. All the dreams they had built, the baby they were expecting, crumbled to dust. She wore a mask of deceit, smiling and grinning in their faces during their double dates, while carrying this secret affair. Despite the betrayal, Jamarico tried to salvage their relationship, even as his mind was clouded with her lies. He played the role of a devoted lover, pleasing her in moments of intimacy, only for her to finally confess amidst their connection. His mind was in shambles, his heart shattered into irreparable fragments. In the midst of this chaos, he found solace in Kartier. Their enmity had transformed into an unbreakable bond of friendship, and that night, it evolved into something more. Jamarico found himself torn between three women, all intertwined in his life, but he knew deep within that one of them was truly his home.

[todaypress]

Seaside Shambles

Law suits, money shortages and strong-arm tactics have dogged the sea baths development in Melbourne on the evening of April 21 this year, after nearly a decade of controversy and bitter legal battles, there was a mood of celebration at the sea baths on the St Kilda foreshore in Melbourne.

The owner of the project, Singaporean businesswoman Jannie Tay, basked in the television lights. Spanish arches, white domes and bikini-clad models provided an exotic backdrop to the opening of the baths.

The project manager and a minor equity holder in the sea baths, Bruno Gatzka, says: "It was a night of such positive energy." Gatzka, the founder of Strarch International, a steel construction company, and an investor in the plastics industry, had been working on the project for four years. Seven tenants had signed and Gatzka estimated the site would be ready in three or four weeks for the other 14 retail tenancies to be fitted out. Then, he says, he would have enjoyed his share of rental income from the car park and tenancies.

Two days later, about 15 men in suits swarmed on to the baths site and Gatzka

was told to leave. He was replaced by a new project manager. Gatzka says his cell phone was ringing continually, with hysterical staff at his office in nearby East St Kilda saying that men were drilling out the locks and trying to force their way in.

Gatzka says that during the next two days, police were called twice to his office, as security guards tried to remove documents. At times, the guards prevented staff from leaving and police had to intervene. Gatzka says: "They were Tay representatives. It was like a military coup except this was Australia, not Asia." Michael Theo, owner of the property agent Collins Commercial and Industrial, which was handling the leasing of tenancies at the baths, saw the drama unfold. He says: "I have never witnessed such behavior. It was frightening."

Gatzka says the Tay representatives wanted documents on projects that he and Jannie Tay had been involved with during the past four years. Some of the documents show that Tay, who has been hailed by the media for rescuing the sea baths from receivership, actually caused the receivership in 1998. And the year before, Tay was instrumental in the collapse of the purchase of the sea baths by another consortium of investors.

Gatzka also believes that the Tay representatives were trying to find evidence of wrongdoing when he was project manager of the sea baths, in order to avoid paying him a debt of $8.7 million. He says the money comes from his 6.6% equity in the project, given to him by the former owners, Hannah and Alexander Friedman, instead of settling a debt. It also includes his unpaid fees over four years of running the project, and money owed for bills he paid on the project. Gatzka says: "I am taking action to recover that money."

Tay denies she owes Gatzka $8.7 million. "Why would I owe him $8.7 million? Let him go to court to get the money." Her sister, Be Be Choy, who is now running the project, says: "We put so much money into the building. What will it cost if we pay that [Gatzka's] bill?"

But the $8.7-million claim by Gatzka has been supported by the former managing director of the sea baths project, Nigel Hutchinson-Brooks. A town planner and valuer who has been a senior executive at Hudson Conway, Mayne Nickless and other public companies, Hutchinson-Brooks was asked by Tay representatives to resign a month before Gatzka was evicted.

Hutchinson-Brooks says: "I found out recently that the Tays began planning to throw Bruno off the site last November, when I was still managing director. I think they got rid of Bruno in order to try and find evidence of wrongdoing so they could avoid paying him. I find their behavior appalling and I feel used and violated by them."

Hutchinson-Brooks says the Tays and their representatives ran a smear campaign against Gatzka, telling tenants and others that Gatzka had stolen money from the project. Be Be Choy told BRW that Gatzka had eight criminal charges against him and she feared for her life. (In 1992, Gatzka was charged with five minor breaches of the Companies Code and fined $20,000.)

Tay's legal representatives hired a detective agency to gather evidence and on August 22 this year made a formal allegation of theft against Gatzka to the Major Fraud Squad.

Hutchinson-Brooks, anticipating such a move, had told a team of corporate investigators to conduct a review of the sea baths project that was passed to the fraud squad. Inspector David Steele of the squad says his inquiries are finished. "There is no evidence to take the matter further," he says.

Now Hutchinson-Brooks and Gatzka claim that Jannie Tay has harmed the sea baths project through a lack of funding. Hutchinson-Brooks says: "We went to extraordinary lengths to protect the Tays' reputation and the project by blaming the council for many delays, when in fact it was due to lack of funds."

Tay has been described as Singapore's richest woman and one of the world's best female entrepreneurs. She started working as a saleswoman in her husband's family business, a watch retailing chain, and by 1975 she was running her own shop in Singapore. Business boomed, and in 1988, Tay listed her company, The Hour Glass, on the Singapore Stock Exchange. By 1993, there were five watch boutiques in Australia. But the 1997-98 Asian financial crisis affected the company. In the 12 months to March 31, 2000, The Hour Glass group lost $8 million. The Tays own 60% of The Hour Glass. There are now three stores in Australia.

During the Asian crisis, Jannie Tay became involved in the sea baths. The freehold of

the baths is owned by the Government of Victoria. In 1992 the lease was bought by the Melbourne socialite Hannah Friedman and her cardiologist husband Alexander Friedman, who were rebuilding the baths. By mid-1996, the initial $6.8-million cost of the project had blown out to $10 million, and work on site had stopped because the Friedmans would not allocate more money.

In September 1997, the Friedmans sold the lease to a joint venture of Castlepines Holdings (trustee for Castlepines Unit Trust) and East West Trinity Unit Trust, associated with Jannie Tay, for about $12 million.

By October 1997, a deposit of $1.2 million was paid to the Friedmans. The man who was leading the Castlepines bid, the property developer David Grose, alleges in an affidavit that in November 1997, Tay rang him to say she wanted to withdraw from the project. Grose says: "She told me ... she had just lost $84 million of her net worth, and her considerable gold holdings had also suffered a huge fall in value." When Tay withdrew, the joint venture collapsed. Asked by BRW why she pulled out of the joint venture,

Tay says: "He [David Grose] wanted to do it with a different architect. I said I wasn't comfortable and why don't I step out."

Grose, fellow investors and contractors who had begun to work on the baths lost more than $1 million. Glen Harrington of Project, Planning & Management was owed $80,000, which has not been paid. He says: "I was told she [Tay] didn't pay him [Grose] so he couldn't pay me." KPMG Solicitors also lost money. Partner Jim Murray says the firm did not try to recover it. He says: "They are hard business people."

Tay's withdrawal from the joint venture with Castlepines set in train several legal battles. The Friedmans took action against Castlepines for non-settlement, and Tay sued Castlepines to retrieve her deposit.

Early in 1998, Jannie Tay did a deal directly with the Friedmans to buy the baths for $12 million, but on more favorable terms, including a deposit of $300,000 and a settlement period of six months instead of two. Settlement was scheduled for early September 1998. Hutchinson-Brooks says that in the middle of 1998 he was working to get the lease extended from 50 to 75 years and to get proper town planning approvals.

But Tay could not make settlement in September, and receivers for National Australia Bank took possession. (The bank was owed $5.5 million.) Hutchinson-Brooks says: "The receivership proved to be very financially damaging to the project. Negotiations for the lease extensions were abandoned and the value of the asset was diminished by additional planning requirements. Costs blew out enormously."

Asked why she allowed the baths to go into receivership, Tay says: "Ask Bruno why he advises me to go into receivership." Gatzka denies it was his idea. Michael Theo, who was organising tenancies for the sea baths, says Gatzka, Hutchinson-Brooks and others fought desperately to avoid a receivership. Theo says: "Jannie Tay, through her arrogant treatment of the bank, caused them to prematurely appoint a receiver. I believe she thought she could get it cheaper from the receiver, not realising the costs."

In September 1998, the Friedmans took action against Tay for non-settlement. Tay agreed to settle after receiving a letter from her then lawyer, Nathan Kuperholz, advising her she was likely to lose.

Tay's husband, Henry, bailed her out. Henry Tay, a doctor, is executive chairman of The Hour Glass and also owns the Burberrys retail franchise in Australia, Singapore

and Hong Kong. The litigation with the Friedmans and the bank was settled by Christmas 1998, with the Tays paying about $10 million to get control of the baths lease. Henry Tay became a majority shareholder of the development, along with Jannie, leaving Gatzka with 6.6%. Tay was presented by the media as the savior of the sea baths, with no mention of her involvement in the Castlepines debacle or the receivership.

Gatzka and Hutchinson-Brooks say they welcomed Henry Tay's involvement and felt that the project would be secure. In February 1999, a new budget estimated that about $350,000 a week would finish the baths, excluding a car park, before the planning permit expired on February 28, 2000.

But Hutchinson-Brooks says he and Gatzka received, on average, $35,000 a week and that the alarming shortage of funds continued during 1999 and 2000. "We had to make excuses to the tenants and the media that planning issues were causing the delay."

The lack of funding had a serious effect, Hutchinson-Brooks says. Resident groups and the local council had time to demand more concessions on planning issues, which added substantially to the cost of the project. He says the project also suffered. "We would have used better materials, done a lot of things differently and come up with a much better result if the funds were there."

Theo says tenants were reluctant to commit themselves because of the recent receivership and because there was almost no sign of activity on the site.

Lack of funds caused a huge blow-out in holding costs. On November 5, 1999, Hutchinson-Brooks advised shutting the site to avoid further costs before "proper funding" was in place. Creditors were owed $500,000. Hutchinson-Brooks says he was comforted by Gatzka continually making payments on behalf of the Tays and the project.

Tay denies there was any problem with funding. "Financing was always there. Ask my lawyers. Whenever money was asked for, it was there. Trust me. I am a businesswoman." In the same conversation with BRW, Tay says it was Gatzka's responsibility to organise funding. "Why did he not tell me he could not arrange bank finance?"

A letter to Tay, from Henry Tay, sent on July 20, 2000, indicates that Tay felt that his wife was responsible for arranging finance. In very angry tones, Henry Tay pointed out to his wife that the total cost of the project to January 31, 2001, was $42 million. The cost to completion was $19 million and bank funding was in place for only $9 million. That meant an extra $10 million was urgently needed to complete the project. Henry wrote: "I would like you to present a plan to me urgently. A month's delay is equivalent to $350,000 interest and holding costs. Neither you nor I can afford to carry this burden."

He went on: "This project is affecting me extremely adversely in every aspect! It is not just a question of money: it is about your total disregard of logic, common sense, financial and business sense, trust of solid advice and concern, and continuously creating additional burdens [of] emotional, mental and financial stresses on all those who really and sincerely care about you ...

I will not continue to clean your projects any more. Also you ignore the enormous problems on your other projects."

Jannie Tay faxed the letter to Gatzka several days later. She told BRW she sent it to Gatzka to show that he was causing her problems with her husband. Tay says: "Why did he [Gatzka] promise the project would only be $20 million? Now it cost $60 million. That is a pure cash loan through my husband and that's why I feel bad. Having paid so much for a project, how come someone says there is no money? It hurt me to see the cheques."

But Gatzka says it was not until March 2001 that Henry Tay could organise another loan from Overseas United Bank. This was on top of another loan from the bank for the project, made in December 1999 for $12.5 million, with the baths used as security.

During the drama of the sea baths, Tay was involved in two other deals. In 1997,

she paid $1.5 million for a stake in the listed plantation timber company Forestech and became a director. The company posted losses for at least three years to 1997. Gatzka says that on June 17, 1998, he received a note from an accountant at Forestech claiming the company was "insolvent". On June 29, 1998, a voluntary administrator was appointed and the company was delisted, leaving creditors out of pocket. Tay, who is still a director of Forestech, says: "It is under administration for reconstruction so we can get it re-listed.

It is another bad investment of mine."

Jannie Tay's other Australian project, the Oyster Cove development near Sanctuary Cove in Queensland, had also been dogged by controversy. Tay first saw Oyster Cove in 1988, when she planned to establish an 18-hole golf course and 680 residential lots. Thirteen years later, after battling environmentalists, and planning and funding problems, only 250 lots have been sold but they are selling faster now, and there is no golf course. Meanwhile, Vanwell, the company that runs the Oyster Cove project (Tay is a director), has been charged over an alleged $60,000 bribe to a Queensland Government officer.

The St Kilda sea baths project is only now nearing completion. Hutchinson-Brooks says: "Bruno offered to help, to protect his own equity, but [his offer] was declined. Trades people were forbidden to talk to him and he is being blamed for problems, real or perceived, in order to discredit him. Because of a change of project manager, there have been added costs and a further delay in the completion date." The new project manager, Stephen Case, principal of Case Meallin & Associates, says he has had to rectify work and do work that was outstanding to meet regulations. He says there were no problems with funds.

Tay asked BRW to see her lawyer, Zyg Zayler, about work on the baths - "He is a top criminal lawyer who will answer everything." Zayler refused to answer any questions but said he was pursuing matters.

Meanwhile, Tay's home in Toorak was passed in at auction on November 22, after Gatzka obtained a caveat on it. It is for private sale at $3.75 million. Tay says: "Do not mention about my home." Later she adds: "Please tell a positive story."

[unsolicited-opinions]

Unfortunately, such failures are not limited to Canada.

In the US, we arguably don't have a healthcare system. Instead, we have a profit-driven "wealthcare" system which fails people even more consistently.

Canadians, as a result, have longer life expectancy and lower infant mortality than USAmericans. Health equity is far better in Canada than in the US. I'm not saying Canada's system is anywhere near what it *should* be - only that it is several steps ahead of its neighbor to the south and several steps behind Australia, the Netherlands, and the UK.

Sexism, though? That's a problem in medicine which knows no national borders. That's in Australia, the Netherlands, and the UK, too.

The data is pretty clear that women and men presenting with the same symptoms are not consistently given the same evidence based care at the same rates. Much of our evidence base did/does not control for sex/gender in clinical trials, and that has real consequences for health outcomes in women.

What's most distressing to me is the way pain is regarded differently in female patients. Compared to men, women are not as consistently held as credible reporters of their own symptoms, including pain. If they report pain, they're less likely to receive analgesics/anesthetics than men reporting the same symptoms.

I've worked in healthcare for 20 years, so when my 14yo said she'd like to wait longer to see a female doctor, I agreed immediately. I would not fault any afab person for preferring to be treated by afab providers.

I don't think most providers are knowingly sexist. I don't think they're malicious, and I don't think they are consciously, deliberately dismissing pain in women. I think their sexism is implicit, deeply embedded, and mostly unexamined.

I don't think regulatory mechanisms can address this, but education, perhaps, could.

Healthcare in the US is in shambles. It is a direct result of bad policy. It is infuriating.

"Joy Spence, 21, said she visited emergency departments at two hospitals in St. John's over the course of nearly two weeks this May.

What began as weakness and abdominal pain on her right side quickly deteriorated into blacking out from the agony in her torso.

But no matter how dire her symptoms got, doctors kept sending her home.

"They would just tell me, 'Your bloodwork's normal, there's nothing we can do.' They would send me home, then same thing again," she said. "I would go back again. They would get me to do the bloodwork, say everything's normal."

Ultrasound and CT scans apparently turned up nothing, but Spence, in such severe pain, says she had no option but to keep returning to the hospital, where she says she was eventually left screaming in a waiting room, ignored by hospital staff.

"If somebody doesn't help me, I'm going to die," she recalls wailing, watching doctors and nurses pass her by.

At one point, she was dismissed outright by a walk-in clinic nurse, she adds.

"Somebody said to me, 'I don't know what you expect me to do,'" she said. "'You're a healthy 21-year-old young female.'"

One night, she says, her boyfriend had to help her into an ambulance. Spence was in so much pain she couldn't stay conscious and stand on her own.

"I remember the man in the ambulance telling me … how often he sees other young women going into the hospital and seeing them be misdiagnosed and not taken seriously," she said, speaking through tears.

"He said that he would do his best to … get things going for me."

Spence says she went to an ER at the Health Sciences Centre or St. Clare's Mercy Hospital about 10 times over a 12-day period, beginning on May 21. She also visited her family doctor, who could do little except tell her to speak directly to the surgeon at Health Sciences Centre, she said.

Each time she saw a doctor, she says, she was sent home and told to dance around her living room or do yoga to cure what physicians believed was anxiety or sluggish bowels.

"I had so many laxatives," Spence recalls. "I would tell them … nothing's even coming out anymore. It's not just this, I don't think. But no, they were dead set on the constipation and only constipation. Like, it can only be that."

...

Spence says doctors only began to take her seriously once she began vomiting in a Health Sciences Centre hallway. The contents of her stomach were green and black.

An older doctor walking past her happened to notice, stopping in his tracks. Spence says he immediately identified the issue as appendicitis.

At that doctor's urging, Spence was finally wheeled into an operating room, where she says her burst appendix — now gangrenous — was removed.

"I think when I walked into the room and they seen a 21-year-old young girl, they immediately dismissed me and thought that there couldn't be anything wrong with me," Spence said.

"I was not on their minds and not on their radar. And if they didn't have that preconceived idea of me, those thoughts wouldn't have been formed and maybe I would have gotten the proper care that I should have."

...

Spence is still struggling to recover from her ordeal. Physically, she's now fine: her appendix was removed and her stitches have healed.

But she's lost an alarming amount of weight, she says, wakes up gasping in the middle of the night and can't stop herself from crying whenever she remembers the hospital.

"I've been losing a lot of hair," she said. "Mentally, it's just been a struggle."

Spence only received an apology from the health authority after CBC News requested comment and confirmed that Spence had done an interview — a move she says felt hollow and frustrating, since the manager who called her didn't give her an explanation about why she was repeatedly ignored while waiting to be admitted.

The ripple effect from her illness, and how she says she was treated when seeking care, has uprooted her life. She's taken a year off her studies in Memorial University's social work program and has lost her job. She's looking for trauma therapy, but now doesn't have the money to pay for it, she says.

"I think as young women we're always told what we're supposed to do, how we're supposed to think, and not to trust our instincts," she said.

"But most of the time … the gut instinct is right. I knew I was sick. I knew what was happening wasn't right, and I could have died if I didn't keep going back to the hospital.

"If I had listened to those doctors and went back home — what could have really happened?""

[freequizbank]

From football funding shambles to green and gold glory _ FreeQuizBank.com - Free Exam Practice Questions for LANTITE Numeracy, Mathematical Reasoning - OC, Selective and Scholarship Tests @acereduau #NSWeducation #AusEdu @AusGovEducation @ServiceNSW

[vprogresseducation]

From football funding shambles to green and gold glory _ FreeQuizBank.com - Free Exam Practice Questions for LANTITE Numeracy, Mathematical Reasoning - OC, Selective and Scholarship Tests @acereduau #NSWeducation #AusEdu @AusGovEducation @ServiceNSW

[catfern]

15 Questions and 15 Mutuals

thank you for tagging me darling @elliessknife <3

were you named after anyone?

like multiple famous singers that my parents like and also a flower

when was the last time you cried?

literally last night lol. had to give my foster cat to another foster recently and i've been in SHAMBLES

do you have any kids?

i have two boys with my gf :) a dachshund stuffed animal named jimmy and a big duck plushie that my gf crocheted for me named quackston. so proud of them.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

no not rlly. i used to and it just wasn't a good colour on me.

what's the first thing you notice about people?

their fashion sense i know its SHALLOW!! but listen if i could liquify some of my friends clothes and drink them as a nutritious smoothie i would.

what's your eye color?

im gonna say hazel bc im actually y/n from a 2012 wattpad bad boy novel.

scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings!!! scary movies give me BAD nightmares and make me paranoid SO

any special talents?

maybeee mario kart? if anyone wants to play w me lemme know

where were you born?

AUSTRALIA!!!! i got bullied for it so bad in high school too

what are your hobbies?

writing, playing video games, trying to get back into reading books. shopping is a hobby and an addiction

have any pets?

nope unfortunately

what sports do you play/have played?

i was a horse girl... THE ONLY SPORT I EVER DID AND WAS GOOD AT SO I HAD TO INCLUDE IT BUT IM ASHAMEDDDD.

how tall are you?

5'1 *crowd boos*

favorite subject in school?

i rlly liked history and some aspects of geography.

dream job?

social worker rn! it changes w the seasons tho so check back in

all my mutuals have already been tagged so whoever wants to participate, i tag u!!! i wanna know more abt everyone so dont be scared to tag me so i can see!

[whattheabcxyz]

2023-06-02

Singapore

Government considering building massive underground cavern facility near Mandai to store construction material

Vesak Day got changed to today instead of tomorrow - did the monks just want a long weekend? *chortle*

Gondola incident in Boon Lay blamed on damaged parapet wall - the entire building looks in shambles & should probably be demolished & rebuilt instead of just receiving a fresh coat of paint!

40-year-old man attacked by wild boar @ Zhenghua Park - he hoped the animal would not be captured & euthanised

Paramedic assaulted by male patient while attending to him - put these abusers to sleep... permanently

Health

Arthritis in your 40s: what to do

Internet

Online access to Asia Sentinel blocked for Singapore users after government says site failed to comply with POFMA order

Nature

^ Singapore: Mating ritual of whydahs @ Pasir Ris Farmway field attracts throngs of photographers

Politics

Biden takes a fall... again

...while DeSantis snaps at reporter, asking him, “Are you blind?” - thanks for showing us what kind of person you are!

Singapore: Former WP NCMP Daniel Goh expelled from party - over his calling out WP leaders for their (mis)handling of the Raeesah Khan incident ...I think he raised pertinent points & it was indeed the party leaders’ fault for allowing that b***hc**t to be a member of the party in the 1st place (given that they knew what kind of trouble she’d already been involved in before joining), let alone continue remaining in the party after what she did later on... it was terrible judgement on all counts & those responsible haven’t the balls to admit it!!!

New fund for SMEs to work on green projects among initiatives to boost Singapore-Australia ties

[norbertvettel]

i went out today and did the things i had to do. i returned my umbrella and got my 30 dollars back. then i went to the park to eat.

i dropped by my friend's workplace to see her. and so far i've studied 2 hours and 40 minutes which is not enough. the weather is unpleasantly cold. it's 5.30 pm and i've wasted most of the day scrolling

it made me realise a few things.

it's very difficult to get people to care about something unless it directly benefits them, which is fair. if something is not for your benefit and it was costly and time consuming why would you do it?

i'm trying to be less judgemental of people. i do not judge people for buying certain kinds of clothes or flying very frequently. i don't see a point in asking people to do sustainable things. everyone needs to consume in order to live and even beyond living, people want to do what they want to. i had a friend who used to care a lot about the environment but was flying a few times a month to go to ibiza or barcelona for a weekend. he could have taken a longer trip during his holidays to really explore barcelona rather than taking a weekend trip to barcelona five times. when i pointed this out he said he didn't want to.

it used to annoy me. now i just question the point of being annoyed. there's no point to me being annoyed.

i used to really care about sustainability, air travel impact on the environment, i was a vegan and use of slave labour around the world really bothered me. today i realised i don't care about any of those things. it was actually a very depressing realisation, to note that i don't care. i'm very tired. i hate hypocrisy, but the truth is i don't care about that anymore either. it's easy to say something, but hard to live in accordance to principles. so people choose to be hypocrites.

it used to bother me that people in warmongering countries shrug their shoulders regarding their governments' actions. quite simply the abortion ban in the us has revealed that if a government's action affected enough citizens enough they would do something about it.

but the point of this post is not about other people. it's about me.

the state of the indigenous rights movement is in shambles. they still make up a disproportionately high percentage of the incarcerated in australia. i've been reading lindy nolan's driving disunity and met some activists. the people who have been working on indigenous rights for years are indigenous. the movement had wide support in australia in the 1970s before corporations drowned it. today if you talk to white australians they don't even know what life in the northern territories is like for indigenous people (tl;dr it's terrible)

the 20th anniversary of the iraq war has come and gone. i've had ten years of people on the internet defend service members for simply being poor and desperate. imagine if there was an armed militia to hunt down abortion seekers across the us and people joined it in the hopes of obtaining a free college education or healthcare

but i'm starting anew today. the aim will be to have more compassion and withhold judgement, even towards really shitty people (soldiers, people who work in objectionable companies). i'm going to keep my identity small. i don't want to claim too many things because i don't know enough yet.

[ankulometes]

Willow Lodge

Most of the McCarthy family left 6 Victoria Avenue in West Didsbury on the morning of Sunday the 10th of March 1985. They piled into the green Volvo 260 estate along with their assorted luggage and drove down to Herefordshire. Ellen drove and Marie, their current au pair, sat in the front while Martin, Miles, and Emily squeezed into the back. That evening they stayed at the Butcher’s Arms in Woolhope. Michael remained behind among the boxes to deal with the removal men. He came down in his red Opel Monza GSE with the family’s two cats and met up with the others, along with the removal lorries, on the Monday morning to move in at Willow Lodge.

No sooner had Michael locked up at 6 Victoria Avenue and driven off for the last time, than a man who looked very much like one of the estate agents responsible for the sale of the property walked around the corner. He unlocked the door, went inside, and proceeded to begin inspecting various nooks and crannies. The following day, a woman who bore the exact appearance of Miles’ form teacher would turn up at an empty Moor Allerton school during the half-term holiday. If anyone had challenged her, which they didn’t, she had supposedly come to collect some things she had left in the classroom, but then proceeded to wander around the school, examining a host of areas, including the bathrooms.

Of course, both people had been David. He had gone to do the clean-up operation, removing all the tiny surveillance devices he had previously installed. Then, returning to Lapwing Lane, he packed up his things and destroyed all the clothes and other belongings Miles had been using while they waited for their substitution window. David had already closed on his new home on Hampton Park Road. Not having much in the way of stuff to move, he had mostly been able to conduct the operation at a distance over the phone. He paid up the rent on the flat at Brankgate Court until the end of April and gave notice to the landlord of his intention not to renew the lease. Having already jumped the time chests to their new storage location in Hereford, he threw his rucksack and messenger bag onto the back seat of the Saab and headed south.

About the same time David drove off, Miles and Martin were searching for the football among the family’s packed belongings in order to go and play in their massive new back garden. Willow Lodge was a wonderful house. Miles had come to feel truly privileged to have been able to grow up in such a place. However, in March 1985, it had seen better days.

The McCarthy’s had purchased the property from the children of the last long-term owner-occupant. She had been a widow who had lived in the property since marrying in the early 1920s. Her husband had died during the Second World War, and she had lived as a widow until her death in 1971. All she had had to live on was her war widow’s pension, and Willow Lodge had gradually fallen to wreck and ruin. Her three children had all moved overseas to Australia in the 1950s and early 1960s. After their mother had died, they had tried to sell Willow Lodge to pay the tax bill the inheritance of the property entailed. However, they had failed to secure a buyer at anything approaching an acceptable price. They had subsequently separated the house crudely into three apartments and rented it out. Willow Lodge continued to degrade as the absentee landlords sought ever more dubious tenants who were prepared to live among the shambles of the once-proud home. By the early 1980s, when they had visited the UK again, it had become inescapably evident that they needed to get rid of the property, no matter the price. And that was when Michael had made them an offer of £185K, which was £15K less than their asking price. Despite its condition, Willow Lodge wasn’t a cheap property by the standards of Herefordshire at that time. But it was still a bargain for a superb regional example of a Regency villa-style farmhouse with 12 acres of land.

Like many houses in Hampton Bishop, Willow Lodge was set back behind a flood ditch from the small country lane next to which it sat. The property boundary backed right onto the embankment, known locally as The Stank, which protected the low-lying village from total inundation by the Lugg and Wye rivers every time the waters rose. Nevertheless, the fact that the lanes filled with water on an almost annual basis was simply a part of life in Hampton Bishop, despite the defences. Willow Lodge was right on the frontline whenever the waters did spill around or – God forbid – over The Stank. The ditches were lined by mature trees, including the eponymous willows that were to be found on either side of a wall, about 5 foot tall and made from a patchwork of old brick and local stone, that delimited much of the roadside boundary of the property.

The McCarthy’s had swept in through the gateway – which no longer had any gates – and into the gravel driveway on the northwest side. It swept up toward the service wing on the north side of the house and around to what was once the main formal entrance to the property on the west front. This was behind a front lawn that, despite being the smallest of the gardens at Willow Lodge, was still larger than the backyard the McCarthy’s had enjoyed at 6 Victoria Avenue. Beyond the lawn were the tumble-down ruins of an old stone wall that would, once upon a time, have been a small walled kitchen garden. It was all now rather unkempt. The lawn was patchy and ill-maintained, the shrubs had all been allowed to grow wild, and whatever flower beds there once were had been all but absorbed by the combination of weeds, shrubs, and grass.

Ellen fumbled through all the various sets of keys the agent had given her, searching for the right one as she tried them out in the door, and eventually they entered by the rear porch. This led into the former service wing that had been one of the three apartments into which Willow Lodge had been divided in the 1970s. From the porch, one door led into the back hall of the main block of the house, via which the upstairs rooms of the north wing apartment could be reached. Another door led through into a dank corridor that provided access to the old kitchen, pantry, butlery, laundry, scullery, and boot room. The kitchen still had an oil-fired Aga that had been fitted in the 1930s but, as Miles could recall from his first childhood, it never got up to heat and was utterly useless for anything but drying boots. The rest of the room had been refitted in the 1970s with a load of cheap plywood cabinets and a tile-imitation vinyl floor that now rippled and curled over the damp, mouldy concrete beneath. The old butler’s room had been used in recent times as a pokey little sitting room while the scullery had been turned into a WC that was as rank as the other rooms. Ellen went around excitedly, explaining what everything was going to look like eventually while Michael asked questions about how much it was going to cost.

Fortunately, the former owners had taken such a cheap approach to the division of the property that it was still possible to traverse it as an uninterrupted whole. Their tactic had simply been to lock the doors at key points and cover them in cheap plywood panels that had recently been removed as the tenants had left in order to facilitate showing the property to prospective buyers. Thus, from the maze-like corridor in the north wing, one could still walk through into the old library. Like many of the rooms in the main part of the house, it was about 5 by 5 metres – they were dimensions that were largely dictated by the grid upon which the classical proportions of the floorplan were based. The original unit would almost certainly have been 1 rod. The room was dominated by a glorious Venetian window-cum-garden-door that led out onto the expansive lawn on the more sheltered and private east side of the property. The library had been used as the “kitchen” in recent times for the apartment formed from the downstairs rooms in the main house. And, by kitchen, the owners had meant that a 4-ring electric hob and oven had been fitted in one corner along with a sink and sideboard. The previous tenants had used the old Victorian bookcases to store food and equipment. Sadly, these were now falling to pieces, along with most of the paint, wallpaper, and plasterwork.

A door on the opposite side of the library led into another small back corridor that provided access to what Ellen referred to as “the music room”. It was a circular room, again just under 5 metres in diameter, that must have been utterly delightful when it was first built. The arc of the circle formed part of a bow front on the east garden façade of the house and was dominated by another wonderful, curved Venetian window and garden door. The walls of the room were decorated with wooden panels that had once been beautifully painted with intricate floral motifs. Sadly, over a century of sunlight had combined with some brutal treatment in recent times to render them a pale, flaking, battered shadow of their former glory.

At the end of the corridor was another room the same size as the study, which Ellen introduced as “the morning room”. In addition to having another glorious Venetian-style French window leading out onto the east lawn, it had yet another identical window on the south facade that led into a smaller patio-garden that provided another sizable lawn dotted with mature fruit trees. Its aspect meant that it was fabulously bright and well-lit, which at present meant that the extent of the wear and tear was very visible. Exposed to the beams of sunlight that battered their way through the expanse of dusty glazing, the walls, floors, ceilings, paintwork, woodwork, and plasterwork all cried out for love and attention. Incongruously, there was a sink fitted in one corner of the room. It had amounted to a luxury feature in the 70s when the tenants had used the room as a bedroom and the presence of a sink was like having an ensuite by the standards of British properties. The sink did look like it might have doubled up as a toilet on occasions, since it was stained with streaks of yellow.

From the morning room, Ellen led them all back out through the corridor to the main hallway. This was a double-height square space, dominated by an elegant, sweeping, semi-circular staircase. It was lit from above by a skylight and from the west through half-glazed doors to a porch flanked by a little used cloakroom and WC. The hall itself had seen service as a lounge in recent times while the old cloakroom had been converted into a small bathroom. Mercifully, it was one of the better-preserved spaces in Willow Lodge. The upstairs landing had been crudely boarded out to block off the upstairs apartment but it was clearly so flimsy that you could probably kick it down in less than an hour and have the old hall more or less fully restored.

Off the hall to the north was the old dining room. It had evidently been just as fabulous as the music room once upon a time, but was now equally run down. The space had been formed into an octagon through the use of floor-to-ceiling wooden panels that had been painted in a Japonisme style in imitation of lacquerware in blacks, reds, and golds, presumably at some point in the 1890s. Concealed draws and cupboards for crockery and cutlery were built into the corners where the panels cut off the edge of the room. Originally, you would even have entered the room through such a concealed door, but that little flourish had evidently been lost at some point. Everything that remained was faded, scratched, cracked, and broken.

On the other side of the hall, was “the living room”. That name, as both Miles and Martin would have already been expected to know, meant that no one was allowed to live in it and it would not be permitted to contain a television. It would be used only for special occasions and important visitors. At about 5 x 7 metres, it was the largest room in the house. Like its neighbour, the morning room, it had a large Venetian-style French window leading out onto the south garden. It was also a similar condition, right down to the eccentric sink in one corner.

The upstairs rooms in the main part of the house had generally fared a little better. Evidently, the apartment that had occupied the first floor here had been the most desirable one, or it had been fortunate to gain the most considerate tenants. Arranged as a flat, it consisted of six rooms and a bathroom, with most of them being more or less aligned with the rooms on the ground floor. They all looked in need of new wallpaper or a lick of paint and some fresh carpets and curtains, but other than that they only required a few minor repairs here and there. Emily was assigned one of the two bedrooms above the living room for now and Marie took the one above the library which Miles aimed to claim for himself in years to come. The

Ellen bagsied the one over the morning room. She had great plans to turn that and the room above the music room into her own little kingdom with a dressing room and luxurious ensuite bathroom. As Miles knew, it would be a wonderful little suite eventually, with gorgeous views south and east over the meadows and the rolling Herefordshire countryside beyond. It would become one of the things that always made her very reluctant to move house again. In his previous timeline, he had begged her to sell up after Michael died in 2029. The ever increasing frequency and severity of floods afflicting Hampton Bishop had combined with a succession of property price crashes to render Willow Lodge practically worthless by then. Ellen had a live-in nurse during the 2030s, and Emily was living nearby, but other than that she was just banging around in the big house by herself. Miles had flown over from New Zealand to visit her when the village had flooded again in November 2039. His last memory of his mother was her as a frail 91-year-old woman, sitting staring out of the window of her lovely bedroom, gazing at the flooded landscape through watery eyes. She contracted pneumonia and died the following February, a month shy of her 92nd birthday party which Miles had been due to attend.

The remaining two bedrooms in the main part of the house were set aside as guest rooms. As agreed prior to their departure from Manchester, Martin and Miles were to have the rooms in the north wing that would originally have provided accommodation for the servants. This part of the house was quite remote and separate from the rest, which was why Martin and the original Miles had wanted it. They would be able to make plenty of noise and mess without disturbing everyone else. Moreover, since Ellen was eventually planning to renovate the whole of the north wing, they had carte blanche to do whatever they liked with the decor before the work commenced.

A corridor ran along the west side of the north wing. To the right at its start was a grotty 1960s bathroom with an underpowered electric shower over an old enamel bath, a filthy old sink and toilet, a mouldy carpet, and plumbing that was heavily plagued with limescale. The room was lit by a single wooden casement window that had replaced the original sash at some unspecified point in the past, probably the 1950s. Either way, the wood was already rotting and the frame was falling apart. Being east facing, the bathroom really didn’t get much light once the sun passed the yardarm each day, which was a significant contributory factor to the generally dark and dank nature of the room.

The room that Martin had claimed lay at the far end of the corridor and spanned the full-width of the wing from east to west. The one that Miles was to have sat in between it and the bathroom. At four metres deep and a little under three metres in width, it wasn’t pokey but could hardly be described as large. Although mercifully somewhat drier than the bathroom, it had many similar qualities of lighting and general state of repair as its neighbour. It was lit by a single bulb that descended on a wire from a yellowing 1960s plastic light fitting in the middle of the ceiling. As with all the upstairs rooms in the north wing, the sash had been replaced by a poor quality wooden casement window, although at least the one in Miles’ bedroom closed properly. As he recalled though, it got terrible condensation in winter that would freeze on the inside of the window when it was cold. Any ornate cornicing or similar that there might once have been had long since been stripped. It was currently a plain, bare cell with a threadbare beige carpet that smelled of tobacco and white-painted walls stained with nicotine. Miles was tempted to change his mind and ask his mother if he could have the room next to Emily, but that would have been out of character. The young Miles would have wanted to be next to his big brother.

The gardens and fields surrounding Willow Lodge were far more bare and open than Miles remembered them being without all the trees that would grow to maturity during his life. On the other hand, there were a few old specimens that wouldn’t survive all that much longer, such as the big Scots Pine in the middle of the east lawn. Of the surrounding outbuildings that came with Willow Lodge, the old carriage house between the south and east gardens was currently a total ruin, its roof full of holes, the timbers beginning to collapse, and the walls starting to crumble. It would need drastic intervention soon if it was to survive, and it would get it. The old timber-framed barn beyond the north wing between the east garden and the orchard was faring slightly better but had obviously lacked any real purpose for many decades now. The previous owners had cleared it of most of the rubbish before handing over the property, but whomever they had paid to do that job had left quite a bit of rusty old pre-war agricultural equipment that had presumably just been too heavy or awkward to move.

Miles’ image of the gardens came from what his parents made of them after planting loads of trees and shrubs and generally lavishing a lifetime of well-funded love on their home. Currently, all the fields were rented out as pasture to one of the local farmers. They would gradually be reclaimed by the McCarthy’s as they found other uses for them over the coming decade. First the small paddock at the end of the east lawn and old barn would be used as the site for a tennis court, cricket net, and football pitch. The barn itself would be converted into an indoor-outdoor swimming pool and garden room. Then, about 1990, Emily would finally manage to persuade their parents to get her a horse. Consequently, after a brief stint as a games room, the carriage house would then become stables. The middle paddock would become her jumping arena and the two paddocks beyond that would mainly be used to provide grazing for the horse. Then half of the south garden and the orchard behind the old barn would be sold off as building plots and Michael would turn the hay field that ran behind The Stank into woodland and “wild garden”. But that was all some way off. Right now, it looked exactly like what it was: an old smallholding that had suffered from a lack of maintenance for too long.

For now though, after a game of football with Martin and Emily and some time spent exploring the grounds, it was time to unpack. Michael and the removal men had placed most of the tea chests and major items of furniture in the required rooms, as instructed first by their labels and then by Ellen again after she decided she had changed her mind. In Miles’ room, there was now a single bed with an oiled pine frame and an overly-soft mattress located in the far corner from the door. Underneath were two, large, matching roll-out drawers. Along the wall opposite the bed was a table and chair, also both in oiled pine. In between them, underneath the window, was a low, wooden bookshelf painted in a shade of pea-green. On top of the table, leaning against the wall, was a large cork board with an oiled pine frame. Positioned against the wall behind the door was a somewhat flimsy wardrobe with mirror doors that was from the same range as the bed.

In the middle of the floor were two tea chests containing the worldly possessions of the original Miles. There was quite a bit of Lego, mainly from the space range, a good collection of Star Wars figures with a Slave I toy (Boba-Fett’s ship) and an Imperial Scout Walker, a load of Scalextric track with a good selection of cars of various kinds, a small collection of children’s books by authors including Roald Dahl, A.A. Milne, J.R.R. Tolkein, and John Christopher, and a 48K ZX Spectrum. A lot of it was stuff he shared with Martin, who had boxes containing many similar items in his room. Then there were things like clothes, shoes, and bedding along with more personal items, such as posters. The walls of the original Miles’ bedroom had been decorated with a selection of anti-nuclear protest works from CND. This was the 1980s after all. Miles sat cross-legged on the floor and inspected each item fondly before arranging everything neatly into place and making himself at home. That much was entirely in character. Miles had always been a neat and slightly fastidious child who couldn’t bear things being in the wrong position.

[f1]

Alpine boss Rossi proud of team's recovery from shambles pre-season to P4 in the standings

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