#because if these are all made in factories with foods he cant eat i worry about like cross contaminants too like. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chyna-hd03 · 2 years ago

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Fieldwork #1 Making Cup Noodle Unfamiliar

9/10 you’re well aware of the existence of the “Struggle Food” that goes by many names whether it be instant ramen, cup noodle, bowl of noodles, or even oodles & noodles. Now to me, it's more of an “I’m too lazy to make anything else” food rather than a “struggle” food but to each their own. Momofuku Ando was the founder of my personal favorite brand of noodles cup noodle and the inventor of instant ramen, created instant ramen to feed the mouths of his ruptured country after WWll. Ando was motivated to create instant ramen after seeing lines that would stretch forever for black market ramen, though instant ramen was not released to the public until after japan’s postwar miracle in 1958. Chikin ramen was the name of the world's first instant noodle, a goal that came to fruition from a man tinkering and conducting trials and error in his shed with second-hand equipment. Chikin ramen did not fly off the shelves because though it was made to be inexpensive at the time it was more expensive than fresh ramen from a vendor. This did not stop it from becoming desired worldwide, and by 1963 Ando would sell over 200 million yearly. As time moved forward westerners ( us or the U.S) weren't like japan who always had chopsticks and an abundance of bowls, which led Nissin (Ando’s Manufacturer) to inquire how this problem would be resolved. When Ando was visiting America he saw a supermarket manager crush his noodles up in a mug, shortly after Nissin developed and patented cup noodle in 1971. Due to its packaging in its own serving container cup noodle, it was more expensive realizing this Ando used a Mcdonald's strategy of marketing to the youth and put his store in the midst of the Ginza district which was known for its young shoppers. Statistics now say over 290 million servings are consumed daily.

The cup noodle museum says that all their products are made in japan but its manufacturer Nissin says that they are manufactured in the U.S. either in Lancaster, PA or Gardena, CA. After scanning my packaging of my noodles I can sadly confirm that they didnt come from japan but from Nissin’s Gardena factory in California. What a shame that my noodles lack the flavouring of authenticity.

As a broke college student I say whole heartedly that cup noodles have a significant impact on my life neither completely positive nor negative. Cup noodles are not expensive at all so buying them in bulk doesnt set me back to much and can last me a while (if i consume them rationally), thats saving money i mightve used to door dash, uber eats or even keeping my time and money instead of waiting an hour for chick-fil-a. Its also a relief to have something to always fall back on that i know i wont get tired of so i never have no options. Financially wise cup noodles are my savior but health wise not so much. For a food to have a shelf life like cup noodles it has to contain some serious amounts of sodium and other unmentioned characteristics, when something is of high sodium as cup noodles it makes the me and other consumers more susceptible to hundreds of diseases and conditions that we mightve not had to previously worry about. For it to come at the price it comes at i cant expect it to not harm me in anyway.

The people who are face to face with the product in factories in either Lancaster or Gardena are all the civilians who applied for jobs that involved hand-to-hand contact with the product, to put it simply the laborers are the ones who are directly in the manufacturing of instant ramen. People who work the jobs of Production staff/associates, Food handlers, and Quality staff. There is no factory in the world that doesn't affect its workers which does not exclude Instant ramen factories. In instant ramen factories, machines do a large some of the work so the workers are not heavily involved in production. When working in a factory you have to protect yourself and also the product so neither becomes contaminated, prior to putting on the safety suits they have to be sanitized inside and outside the suit which sucks away what moisture is presently leaving the skin possibly damaged. The eyewear used to protect your eyes in these factories leave rings and bruises on the upper half of the face of the worker, causing discomfort during the long shifts with not too many breaks to count.

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thinkingheron · 6 years ago

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SW Fic - Observe, Analyze, Adapt

Six snapshots from Artoo Detoo's memory files tagged Skywalker.

[AN] For @strrne (I know this is your art blog but tumblr won’t let me tag your main) from this post. I dug this up from one of the abandoned concepts which started from @celebrate-the-clone-wars prompt Evolve and Adapt. It's too late to submit but I thought I'd credit the prompt anyway.

Read it on AO3 or FFNET.

*****

Artoo Deetoo was a proud astromech droid, manufactured by the best to serve the Royal House of Naboo. He might be relatively fresh out of the factory, but he had more experience than most droids with similar activation time. He had fixed the Naboo Royal Starship mid-flight several times now, once even in the middle of a firefight. And this was not the first time aiding star pilots either, though actual battles had been rare, and an over-enthusiastic nine-year-old pilot was rarer.

He had not worried at the beginning. Partly this was because astromech droids were not programmed to worry and partly because at the beginning it was well within his function to help Naboo army in destroying those battle droids. It was also within his function to help a pilot—a small one, but still a pilot—in the battle for Naboo. And when the ship's programmed autopilot became too cumbersome, it was protocol to turn it off and give the pilot full control.

That was when Artoo learned that some pilots were... more different than others.

This little human flew the fighter like a pod. It was erratic enough to introduce multiple glitches in Artoo's clean system. They resulted in a series of queries that Artoo had never needed to ask before, such as whether this experience could be classified as 'flying', or since when 'babysitting' had become part of his programmed functions, or if there would be anything left of him to salvage after this.

The tiny pilot was just ecstatic, blithely unaware of how many common rules of space combat and laws of physics they were breaking.

"I'll try spinning, that's a good trick!"

It was all Artoo could do to keep the star fighter stabilized and cling on with dear life—metaphorically speaking.

By the end of the day, Artoo had a new entry for the word 'spin' in his database with a footnote, discovered the emotion 'panic', and an appropriate sound file to express it.

*****

"Alright, Artoo, we can do this. Just stay with me."

This was not a Nubian Fighter, and that little human had somehow become a Jedi, and his flight pattern had not changed at all in ten years.

Of course, this time Artoo also had ten years worth of experience serving Padme Amidala right next to her. Padme Amidala did not believe in memory wiping droids, so Artoo had been able to retain nearly everything he had learned, one of which was something that could be described as a certain appreciation for excitement. He had gotten through that battle that started this war, weaving through the chaos to keep two humans and one golden protocol droid in one piece without ever needing to use his 'scream' file.

"Redirect all power for shields to the engines," Anakin said, canting a look behind them where two vulture droids were trailing. The sight seemed to cheer him up. "Let's see what they've got."

Artoo had predicted that order. Only the most reckless of pilots sacrificed shields for other functions, and Anakin Skywalker was certainly one of those.

And for good reason. Within the next ten seconds, both droids were little more than smoking scrap metal.

"Anakin, will you stop showing off and help me out here!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice crackled through the comms.

Anakin rolled his eyes, steadying the ship from its 1980-degree spinning. Everything was upside down. "Alright, old man, where are you?"

"I'm near the—"

The comm cut off from interference and Anakin's expression turned serious at once. Artoo performed a quick scan and marked Obi-Wan's direction on the screen.

"I see you." Anakin muttered in a voice that promised pain and suffering as he pulled the fighter around.

Obi-Wan's ship, which could now easily be identified by the vulture droids swarming around it, took a dive and vanished from their view behind one of the Separatist dreadnoughts. As they flew towards it however, another one of Separatist ships loomed overhead, having taken heavy damage from the Resolute and now careening down.

Artoo calculated, and presented an alternative course that would take 1.27 seconds longer but did not involve going between two heavy metal bulks that were about to collide.

Unsurprisingly, Anakin ignored it and fired the engines to max instead.

Artoo did not scream when they zipped through the narrow gap and Anakin started to defy physics again.

Artoo did not scream when the two dreadnoughts crashed and one exploded just behind them.

Artoo did not scream when they shot out the other side and flew straight into the swarm of vulture droids, sending them all scattering to different directions like bowling pins.

Then a debris from the explosion slammed into their left wing and they spun out of control.

And Artoo screamed.

*****

Organic living beings all had to meet certain requirements to function, and Artoo had been active long enough to learn that their needs varied. Padme Amidala, for example, often needed to be watched over in case of intruders or alerted to some important appointment.

Anakin Skywalker, as Artoo found out quickly, required a slightly different type of care, and the trickiest part was he never asked for it.

"Bearings. Magnetic ones."

Artoo dropped the component into Anakin's outstretched hand, and followed it with a query, this time waving a ration bar. The bar was, in his opinion, a much more efficient form of food and made it easier to convince humans who were not hardcoded to eat when they needed.

Anakin glanced at the bar and shook his head, returning to his work. "Not now, I'm good."

Anakin's stomach however, chose that exact moment to disagree loudly. He scowled down, as if ready to have an argument with his own body parts.

Artoo bumped against him, waving the bar again and adding an appropriately sad bleep that had proven effective in manipulating human emotions.

It worked. Anakin sighed and tore off his dirty gloves. "Fine."

As Anakin wolfed down the ration, Artoo made adjustments to his algorithm for predicting Anakin Skywalker's biological clock.

And added 'babysitting' into his list of official duties.

*****

The last thing Artoo learned from Anakin Skywalker was that humans, apparently, were susceptible to reprogramming as well.

As a droid, Artoo did not understand plenty of organic concepts, but he could damn well analyze patterns. And the human who returned after leaving with the command, 'stay with the ship', did not match the behavioral patterns of Anakin Skywalker.

Anakin Skywalker would never hurt Padme Amidala.

Anakin Skywalker would never fight Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anakin Skywalker would never leave Artoo behind.

Artoo analyzed, and filed the results. They were later archived into the deepest part of his database along with all the flight and mission data from the Clone Wars.

*****

Artoo did not access that data for a long time after. He was usually stationed on Tantive IV or Alderaan Royal Palace, which required different skills. Occasionally he would be ordered to assist a star pilot on a fighter, but working with people who acted more like droids to him was not quite the same.

Until...

"This R2 unit of yours seems a little beat up. You want a new one?"

Luke Skywalker laughed and shook his head. "Not on your life! That little droid and I have been through a lot together. You okay, Artoo?"

Artoo confirmed. The old memory files returned easily.

It was their first time flying a star fighter together, and this was a different era, a different type of fighter. Still, as soon as he was plugged into the X-Wing, Artoo dug back up the flight pattern analysis from the oldest, most secured part of his database.

Because when it came to living beings, some things just did not change.

#R2-D2 #Anakin Skywalker #Luke Skywalker #sw prequels #The Clone Wars #sw fanfic #droids matter #I swear to force i intended this to be pure fluff and no sadness attached #why yes i deliberately held off posting #to post around christmas and not procrastinate for a week #heron writes

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a-toon-out-of-toontown · 7 years ago

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Chapter five

Again this is may 11th, so i have no idea if this is it or not, i would have probably made an update to say whether or not this is it so fdashasdkjsdklshkj maybe last chapter for now? Maybe not, i cant see the future

That was one of the worst decisions of my life. I ended up staying up staying up past midnight watching those stupid movies. Which meant I didn't get much sleep. So it took a lot of energy to drag me out of bed.

I got dressed, putting on that stupid resistance ranger outfit. Ever since storm sellbot, it's been mandatory for all resistance rangers to wear them while on duty, and my mom thinks it looks cute when we all match as a family. I thought it was stupid, but my mom forces me to wear it anyways.

I went to the kitchen, glancing at the clock on the stove as I went. All I saw was the hour, 12. I stopped, it's noon?! I looked back at the clock, and it read 12:30. Nonononono… I can't be late! I ran out of the kitchen as fast as I could, knocking over a flowerpot as I went. I grabbed my keys and portable hole and ran out the door.

I teleported to toontown central and I arrived outside of toon hall. I opened the door, walked down the hall to the right and entered the break room located at the end of the hallway. Instead of finding a room full of people, I only saw the toon hall cook, an elderly bear by the name of Madam Daphne.

"Hey Daphne, I said looking around, where is everyone?"

She looked up from her cooking. "Oh hello, Miss Bubbles it so nice to see you! You must be wondering where everyone is, the meeting still hasn't ended yet. Flippy had mentioned that it should take longer before it started." She paused, "whatever is going on I know it's serious business, even Lord Lowden showed up"

"really? I asked surprised, he only comes to meetings when he absolutely has too"

"Yeah, she replied, I wonder what could have happened"

She glanced towards the door to the meeting room,

"not that they tell me anything, I'm just the cook."

I walked over to the trays of food, lunch wasn't put out yet so it was just filled with dainties, and 4 pitchers of iced tea were at the end of the table. I took one of the cups beside it and poured myself some. When I took a sip I was overwhelmed by how sweet it was. I had to put it down.

"What's wrong bubbles? Daphne asked, is there something wrong with the drink?"

"no, I said as I picked up the glass, it tastes really good." I smiled as I took another sip, "it's as good as it always is!"

"oh that's good, I was worried for a second."

I looked into the cup, I guess the coffee had affected my taste for sweet things.

Just then the meeting room opened to reveal the toon council had finally finished their meeting. First walked out Flippy and my father, who were in the middle of a very serious sounding conversation.

Julia and Charlotte followed close behind laughing about something they were talking about.

Then the rest of the council filed out with Lowden and Ace holding up the rear.

"Hey Miss Bubbles, called Daphne as she was holding a tray of pizza, could you help me put these out on the table?"

"sure," I replied as I went around the counter and into the kitchen area.

I grabbed two of the pizzas, one in each arm, and followed Daphne out of the kitchen. Once we had placed them on the table I was pulled aside by my mother.

"Hey Bubbles, said, nice to see you! How are you?"

"I'm fine, I replied, how was the meeting?"

"It was good, she replied, we were mostly discussing the attack we did on the sellbot factory."

Just then my dad walked over "which I had a major role in, if it wasn't for me we probably would have failed"

My mother rolled her eyes, "Nick come on that's not true, it was mostly planned by Ace and his son, and we led the team together."

He was silent for a moment as if he was not sure what his response should be, then he said, "boy am I hungry, whats for lunch?"

Julia sighed, "it's pizza," she said as she pointed to the table.

Before he could leave Lord Lowden approached my parents.

"Nick, Julia, I just wanted to congratulate you on the attack on the factories. Without you those new cog goons would have been produced and taking back toontown would have become so much harder."

"well, my mom replied, that's what we're here for. Will you be staying for lunch?"

"No, I won't, he replied, I have things to attend to, which is unfortunate because it smells lovely. Bye Nick, Julia and Bubbles."

"Bye Lowden, my mother replied, don't work too hard."

He smiled and then turned around and headed towards the door.

Once he was gone, my mother spoke, "he works too hard, he practically never leaves his office."

My father nodded, then he turned towards the food. Toons had already begun to line up and some had already begun eating.

Seeing my mother's unamused expression return, he walked towards the line "Woah hold up there, make sure there's enough left for me."

My mother rolled her eyes and turned to me, "we should probably get some food, Daphne is a great cook and I really don't want to miss this pizza."

Once lunch was done, it was time for the public half of the meeting. This gives toons the opportunity to voice their opinions and concerns. It was brought into effect a couple years after Flippy with overwhelming support. I walked into the room and sat by the back of the room. One one side was a row of chairs where the council would sit, and about four or five where the toon population would sit.

There also was a roped off section where the media would sit. I sat at the far back and watched as the room filled up with toons.

I mostly kept to myself, and only a couple of toons looked in my general direction. A couple of the regular toons that came frequently waved in my direction and I waved back, but I did it very subtly.

It took about 10 minutes, but finally, the council entered the room. The chatter in the room subsided as they took their seats. Once Flippy had gotten to his chair everyone was silent.

"Now, before we begin today I would like to remind everyone that gags are not to be used in this building under any circumstance unless, by some very slim chance a cog is to find its way here, we don't want a repeat of 2012."

A roar of laughter came from the toons and rolled my eyes. Every time we start a toon council meeting they announce this and every time toons find it funny.

After the laughter subsided, Flippy continued. "Now, first things first, we as the toon council would like to thank both Ace and the Wildspeed duo for their bravery in sabotaging the creation of these new cog goons"

A round of applause came from the crowd and both my parents and Ace stood up. My father was about to say something when my mother interrupted him.

"It is a great honour to be able to help the citizens of toontown, we do this not for ourselves but for you and for the freedom of our home."

The crowd applauded again as they sat down and Flippy waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing.

"Now, we will move on to the question period, we will start with the media, he turned and faced the roped off section, now who wants to go first?"

An aqua rabbit stood up. "You there, said Flippy, what is your question?"

"Hello Flippy, toon council, she began, My name is April and I'm from Toontown news for the amused. I have been doing a lot of research lately and what I've found is quite startling. I've noticed that cogs are having a better success rate with taking over task buildings, and when the building is taken back, another cog is there to take it back. It started first with the sellbots but now it seems that all the branches have gotten the information. The new anti stun cog goons, something the cogs themselves were not able to develop for years, but suddenly out of nowhere there able to come up with this? The answer is simple, we've been betrayed by one of our own, maybe not just one."

The crowd gasped and Flippy's face went from a look of happiness to a look of worry.

April continued "My question is this, has the toon council done any research on this topic? I feel like this is a very important issue."

My parents went to stand up, but Flippy gestured for them to sit down.

He cleared his throat "are you questioning my competence? Do you not think I've noticed this and have made sure there is no rat amongst us? I can't believe you would ask me something like this."

"well, asked April, is there a rat? I noticed you looked worried, is there something you're hiding?"

"HOW DARE YOU, Flippy yelled, THAT'S IT, IF ALL YOU'RE GOING TO DO IS ATTACK ME, MEETING ADJOURNED." and with that, he stormed out of the room.

Charlotte stood up from her chair and went over to where Flippy had just been "I'm sorry, but we're going to have to cut this meeting short. Now like always there will be refreshments and snacks-"

An ice blue mouse ran up and whispered something in her ear.

Charlotte nodded and resumed speaking "actually there will not be refreshments, so um, yeah. I hope everyone has a toontastic day!"

With that, the toon council awkwardly shuffled out, not sure what just happened. Slowly but surely, everyone else began to file towards the exit, confused chatter filled the hall. I saw the news reporter who asked the question still sitting in her chair.

A dark green dog walked up behind her and sat down beside her. I didn't stay to hear what they were saying, I turned around and left once the crowds were gone.

I found my parents standing outside, having a very serious sounding discussion. It took them a while to finish so I sat on the steps of toon hall and watched the clouds roll by.

After what felt like an hour my mother tapped me on the shoulder. "Come along Bubbles, she said, its time we go home."

After every toon council, we have a tradition where we have dinner together as a family. So together we went to my parent's estate. When we got there I was greeted by two very excited doodles, which knocked me over, covering me in slobber.

"Calm down Macbeth, Juliet, I pet them both on the head, it's nice to see you."

My parents who were walking in front of me turned and saw what had happened. They both burst out laughing. It took them a second to compose themselves, then my mother called both doodles over. I got up from the grass and brushed myself off. I walked into the house, my parents were already in the kitchen. I walked in, and they were in the midst of another serious discussion.

My mother turned to me, "Miss Bubbles, we're going to need you to leave us for a minute, we need to discuss something important."

"does this have something to do with flippy storming out today?"

"yes, she replied, I hope you don't mind."

"I don't, I replied, I can keep myself occupied. I can feed the doodles."

"perfect! We won't be long."

I contemplated eavesdropping, but if they found me they might become suspicious. I would get the notes from the meeting, so I could present that to the VP tomorrow.

I got the food out from the cupboard and walked outside. I poured the food into their bowls and called them over. I stepped out of the way before I got trampled again. I looked towards the door, nothing so I decided to sit in the shade of my old tree house. As the clouds rolled by, I thought of what I was going to give to the VP on Monday.

My parents always send me the notes from the meeting so I'll have that. They have literally no reason to give them to me, but they think it's good for me to stay in the know. Little do they know it's going to be used against them. I guess I could talk about Flippy storming out of the hall, cause that was interesting.

What if there was a way to, I don't know, take down the toon council from the inside? Flippy did seem worried about something, more than just the toons who broke the anti cogism act. Maybe Flippy isn't at all what he seems, what other secrets could he be hiding?

Before I could think about it further, Juliet came and sat beside me, halting my train of thought.

"Hey Juliet, I said as I scratched behind her ear, how's it going?"

She barked.

"Good? That's good to hear."

I looked up at the sky, and I noticed the sun had already begun to set. I got up from under the tree and stretched, sitting in one place for so long was not fun.

Just then my mother burst outside. "Miss Bubbles? Where are you?"

"I'm here mom, I said still standing beneath the tree, is everything ok?"

She sighed, "yes everything is fine, your father and I were just talking about things, more specifically the anti cogism act. We believe our stance has changed on the matter."

"how so?" I asked.

"We don't believe it should be kept from the public, the news reporter today told us this. The toons of toontown deserve to know the truth."

I nodded.

"I'm sorry Bubbles, she said, but we're going to have to postpone until next week, I hope that's ok."

"that's fine, I replied, I hope everything gets sorted out."

She sighed, "me too" She was silent for a moment, then she continued, "that reminds me, I have something for you."

She pulled out a brown paper bag and handed it to me.

"What is this?" I asked as I inspected the outside of the bag. "They're sugar cookies, she replied, I was hoping we would be able to decorate them today, but I guess we never got the chance. I'll make a new batch for next week, so you can have these."

"thanks, mom, but I should probably be getting home."

"I hope you have a wonderful evening and I'm sorry again about today."

"its fine, it's completely fine."

I was about to teleport to my estate when she stopped me.

"Wait I almost forgot, here are the notes from the meeting."

"thank you, I replied, see you next Sunday?"

She smiled "like always. Bye Bubbles."

"Bye mom," I replied as I jumped into my teleport hole.

When I got back to my estate, I put down the cookies at the door and managed to find a pencil and paper. I put the reports off to one side and put the paper in front of me. It was time to get this ready for the VP.

#toonblr #toontown #my writing #a-toon-out-of-toontown

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glopratchet · 4 years ago

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astryl-wondering

am that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, with his sword drawn and he says "I will not leave you again! and covered in blood and he has no idea what happened except that the angel was a demon as he says 'aargh me had the vilest and foulest cravings of alcohol a few minnites ago and just now meat these subconscious trigger nightmares it was attacked by a wild cat that got inside because of the ripped stitches a nivorite sword that glows with enchantment lays by the entrance and the succubus queen lays torn in half with her wings burned off, "You sure you don't want an explanation about what the hell just happened? in descant ; (we see them above in space, with hearts of flames and they sing in harmony, almost looking like sirens leading sailors to watery graves) for this game and it is important for knowing when to take a break "No thanks, that's quite alright He says as his skin turns an unhealthy green tinged white it is just desert and dying landscape, however a blue hex Designated as "The blackweb" Nearby attracts attention over the past few days for listening to his tulpas, he goes west towards it of not preparing better for fights " What mistakes have you made recently? Looking back on the situation Not being prepared for the demon, as he got lazy with his unity of thoughts and seeing them as beneath him Already regrets for what he said to Meliodas, and no doubt the demon is planning revenge Shutting up the demon, he notices an element of demotivation that has infultrated his followers and displays something reminescent of his old self Astryl tries to remind himself before it all fades away life to the fullest and that phrase inspires him Of course he does not have facial hair but something about these memories seems somewhat real Astryl keeps trying to remember why he decided to devolve himself into these poor acts of debauchery and displays something reminescent of his old self It is foggy but he remembers some fella with nice facial hair mentioning the words live life to the fullest and that phrase inspires him in his eyes and he sees that from the disaster of today, only the center of the storm is as hot as it should be A weather readout finally comes back up in his eyes and he sees that from the disaster of today, soon if he does not get out of here Getting out of here He will finds himself in some dust storm soon if he does not get out of here 's information section From what the readout says, it has been here longer than the storm! much longer! There seems to be some kind of corrupting computer virus that has been feasting on the bits of cludstrum's information section and they are known for hiding out in any dying storm, then expanding from it as it consumes more landscape and mutating with the new intruding elements The creautures feasting on the being of astryl are know as slender smooth hounds and they are known for hiding out in any dying storm, when you try to make an action Both he and the computer are beoging to connect when all this started! The appear out the corners of the screen and gobble up parts of the interface or make the symbols go wacky when you try to make an action Keeps fading in and out as you try to think You finally lose all focus and the two minds engaging one another shut down out of the dozens of a person called alice? A list of contacts comes back on but only one mention can be deciphered out of the dozens of a person called as forms blood red with strange slashes through them All the other contacts seem to squeeked out and are unintelligible as forms blood red with strange slashes through them gibberish really but the gray dots and lines below it remind you of Pre-fall language lessons and you get some meaning from it The name on the contact list is cylopiean anglyphs, right now! Who is this alice you think? But the conditions are not right to travel and see him right now! but all his memory units seems to be intact, you can visit his dreams but it will be senseless dream imagery most likely Cludstrum states that qefizat clencher is going to take a little while to get back online but all his memory units seems to be intact, and the sky is thick with clouds Only then will the qefizat clencher work when it is slightly raining outside and the sky is thick with clouds if you interact but you can ask cludstrum abou tmore regarding his situation The ui will break intermently if you interact but you can ask cludstrum abou tmore regarding his situation he is used to it and they can't be fixed Parts of the displays called mirrors will go on and off line for the duration of the expierence, --astryls system damage will grow and he will suffer from or enjoy fragmented dreams that cause reality lines to interfer A flickering light causes an illusion of flying Untill the code corruption is sealed off and deleted and all the slender smooth hound stds are destroyed --astryls system damage will grow and he will suffer from or enjoy fragmented dreams that cause reality lines to interfer for this text, think the table legs mixed with memories and a lot of confusion How this is achieved is a mystery for this text, the problem is consumable resources are very limited in the sandcity since their arrival Down at the airfield there should be some growing wild, only thus will Cludstrum states that he will need some cucumber to fix some of the issues, if he keep paralizing himself into dreaming impossible dreams he decide if the disturbances to his mind are worth the small chance of maybe finding something Astryl considers the fact that he might be thirsty and hungry if he keep paralizing himself into dreaming impossible dreams The plover on his earth simile seems to shake it's head, looking worried for astryl waaagh! nonsense But why would an immortal have need for water or food? or what it even means In order to this the currency exchange must be debugged or astryl does not now what this stuff does or what it even means at the idclip vending machine 's life as thing start to go wrong You hear him yelling but don't comprehend it at first that look like numbers in his sleep, large number of the same food will increase their effects But something is really happening to mentally unravel astryl net --------------- Connecting to mindworlds Connect http: ---- mindworlds net: connected since his cells will automatically regenerate Maybe the palm sized gray orb that fell out of the monster could be eaten, clud was already studying it for shattersouls research in his fists, seemingly random WATCH OUT PUNCHBUGGWOEF! clud studies the log beside clud's left monitor he watches the numbers pour past showing all the memory units that clud has hooked up for him slices that can give some scraps of him to increase system resource so he can graze there later with less penalty Perhaps there are ruins nearby to look for canned food or some such meal there is some sand too but it went down badly last time What should he eat then, scroll Clud seems to be cooing at his monitors as messages appear on them of cyerspace trying to find structure before his searches lead him to the reality of things the world Stupid Blablabla MIND, stupid stupid mind an unseen sinkhole, how deep will astryl plummet? Will the answer await at the bottom? the ruins of the darkwebsite, an offline webpage the astryl used to frequent Let us see if he can uncover some history a cafe that sells coffee and cake to astryl astryl can see an oasis nearby he finds a welcome mat and black slipwashes leading up a very creepy pathway to a doorbell which plays the weirdest thing he has ever heard when pressed there must be some sort of city around this thing chest smacks his jaw into the datatiles, a bunch of information about maintenance concerns that he already knew seems to content just before another file reaches the top rams its keyhole and rotates to the right Two cactii guard the door out inside is congested with a wall of safes The windows are very high, he will not be able to break and enter that way wildly with glee "I'm in a glee, GEEGE! " the tent exclaims in its deepest voice out of his way You swerve your poland launcher and puke some shrapnel into him "His eel is fierce, Garth" under the beige table from the shattered table The guy with scar over his eye crinkles his brow, "Who the sweet mountain are you? "Nobody of consequence" away in the glossy page The kids are swarming all over you now and you cant get out of this predicament the juggernaut's attention You will find a secluded spot called "BLamber" Now you are saved; let us sleep together his juju and laying down some fix There's mass hysteria here as people celebrate chasing back the wasteland through the septic tank It's raining men! No y what? a doppelganger to kill claudius "Over the lab table, dear" himself to calm the nerves The sewers drain into an old abandoned factory with wilders bonkers for population programming a doppelganger to kill claudius behind a broken ferris wheel Kludstrm postponed using doppelganger assassins on claudius the needle into his neck It's very crowded down here, and you couldn't care less about these stuff anyway intelligent life signs in sewer tunnels You shove a pole through his stomach Kludstrm alternating removing your heat signatures from the facility map Hiding is not a fun game when the other person enjoys it more than you do an itch on his shoulder nearby your biological stats to ferric He begins slicing at your nerves and internal organs Why is everyone so obsessed with killing? an argument on izon and closing his eyes The juggernaut is oblivious of the scheme transpiring there his blind eyes with your blood His high priests' reptilian eyes scan you up and down They start buzzing in Church Latin about tangerines Kludstrm zany ripping it apart with glee Glistening, woven metal, plastic and insulation access to the trash compactor room "The plans don't specify traps, right? after ages of freefall The whirring eventually ends with a slight tremor out of the corner of his mouth Kludstrm ghastly winking at you dismissively into the sunlight Are you out of your mind? He's two feet away from us! with sonnenbrand afterglow A knife needs "Let us abandon these clumsy disguises" he whispers slash oxygen using a simple PLANT Kludstrm dull striking with his wrench A vivid image of children drowning in space out hostile forces nearby Silvery beads of sweat plummet down your neck You need a hug, Grandma Company about the potential hostile He punches you, the slug grazing your skull Kludstrm grateful wordprocessing teaching metalworkers to build robots for batteries Kludstrm reasonable storing children's brain waves patterns Can't talk now, you'll die! We're being shot at! the schemata of certain personnel It seems like Klud is trying to tell you something on some cardboard with rainwater Kludstrm indecipherable cleaning the drainage channel of plogiston on doritos Kludstrm silly combating the hostile with what you got Some excessive body heat and an empty flask of fire cusvith with pheromones You're burnt horribly horribly enough to see your skin melt away! You can finally see inside the building, all thanks to izon security Everywhere you look are bunks and machinery your wages on a cryogenesis pill But there are guards every five feet? You hear izonian screams of terror! for her servant? Kludstrm traditional popping a pill and hibernating till the good ol'days beyond the horizon monsters and plants from other dimensions Kludstrm aventine doing Klud's yearly job of hunting roo from you mind A toothless housewife asks people to leave herself and her husband alone You see bootprints going inside like a fairy tale city Their armor may be polished using any available reflecting material, under a full moon The city of beetriot distaff wantonly displaying your tragic DNA matches A riot? for shady murderers The city of beetriot bent looking like a cascading waterfall covered in homes and leave the bootprints untended? and end up making many different footprints even if you stick to unguarded exits? The city of beetriot competent being a haven for the criminal underworld or just an ex-convict trying to stay on the right side of the law? You can't breathe! You're being smothered or drowned You gasp for air, those years of prison definitely caused your diving abilities to lessen they might be gone all together, actually

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viralhottopics · 8 years ago

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On the brink of Brexit, voters reflect: I feel more strongly now. Let’s get out

As article 50 is about to be triggered, how do people feel in Smethwick, a Midlands town that voted to leave?

I moved to Bearwood in Smethwick in the hot summer of 1976. We were moving up, leaving behind the sixth floor of a block on the sprawling Lee Bank council estate for a house and garden in a safer area with large parks and better schools, a few miles from Birmingham.

I grew up there in the 70s and 80s, when there was optimism about our future. The colour bar experienced by a first generation of immigrants in the 60s, in some shops and the bingo hall, had been replaced by our own Why would I want to go there anyway? self-induced bar. The days when a Conservative party candidate could run, and win (in 1964), on the slogan If you want a nigger for a neighbour, vote Liberal or Labour seemed distant.

My mother is Jamaican and, like many of my generation, I failed the Norman Tebbit test completely. I didnt support any England team. I would rehearse long debates about how I might reject a call-up for the England rugby team, even if my ability meant that call would never come. Jamaica was great for holidays, but didnt feel like home: everyone there called me English.

So while I was always a Smethwick boy, I can still pinpoint the moment I first felt British: in 1992, when Linford Christie won the 100m at the Barcelona Olympics, this most Jamaican of men running around the track with the British flag. We had grown up hearing songs like There aint no black in the Union Jack; what Christies gesture said was, Im British: deal with it.

A mistrust of foreigners has been singled out as the driving force behind last years vote to leave Europe. But why did places where more than 50% of the population have recent origins outside the UK vote for a policy of exclusion? Smethwick is in many ways typical of the radical changes to Britains racial demographic since the second world war: in the 50s and 60s, Commonwealth citizens from the Indian subcontinent and the Caribbean emigrated here to alleviate job shortages, particularly in the NHS and transport. A large number of Sikhs moved from the Punjab to work in Smethwicks foundries. Later waves of immigration brought asylum seekers, students and workers from around the world.

When I was growing up, my white British friends liked the same music, played the same games and ate the same food as we did. We knew people who joined far-right groups; but the various gangs were largely multiracial, affiliated to the area more than anything else a loose Smethwick posse. There would be running battles with skinheads from Quinton and beyond; I cant remember a Saturday night that was not punctuated by someone being glassed or having a pool cue wrapped around their head.

Today Smethwick is home to a more diverse range of communities. It is still a relatively cheap place to live, so new arrivals often start off here. You will see Eritrean church services in Victoria Park, eastern European supermarkets on Cape Hill, a Ghanaian wedding at the community centre, alongside the more established Sikh temples and African Caribbean churches.

Speaking to Smethwick friends from white British and second-generation immigrant backgrounds, you hear support for Brexit from a diverse range of perspectives: there is the Fortress Europe argument (people of Commonwealth origin not being able to move to the UK, because preference is given to EU citizens); British Asian shopkeepers who dont like the Polish shops stealing business; an objection to the Thatcherite capitalist structure enshrined in the EU. Underlying all these things is a powerful revolt against what is perceived to be a self-serving political elite.

None of the second- or third-generation immigrants I met on a recent visit to Smethwick thought Nigel Farage would deliver a harmonious society founded on principles of social justice. But the supposed social justice champions, Labour, today have far less connection to the people they seek to represent than they once did. Todays politicians speak relentlessly about engaging and understanding these alienated communities. But even their use of the word community is loaded often based on race or religion or class, as if there were no diversity of opinion among them.

What does the future hold for Smethwick in a post-Brexit Britain? My more pessimistic side worries that inequality will increase, as the fight for a share of an ever smaller pie is orchestrated by a privileged few who use alienation, fear and loathing to divide and rule. But a bigger part of me is optimistic: a younger generation has always found ways of creating new relationships with other like-minded people, be they Italian, Irish, Ghanaian, Nigerian or Indian. It might feel claustrophobic at this moment in time, and Smethwick will struggle with the macro issues. But there are enough people there with goodwill, who want to come together, who will want to get on with it. Hamish Crooks

Theresa Robinson, 51, volunteer

Theresa Robinson and her son, Jacob. Photograph: Diana Markosian

My little boy and I moved here from Birmingham in 2009. I had separated from his father, and when I got here we didnt know anybody.

Smethwick is an interesting area because the diversity works really well. Everyone seems to get on where we live. But there are some negative aspects of multiculturalism. For example, there is no non-halal butcher around here, and I dont want to eat halal meat because they dont always stun the animal before they kill it I feel its a bit cruel. Ive had a row a few times with shops advertising places to rent, with signs saying Indian family wanted. I said, You do know thats illegal, dont you? I remember when they used to have signs up saying No Irish, no blacks.

My little boy is the only white English kid in his class, and they dont celebrate any English things at all. They didnt do anything for the Queens jubilee or birthday. I dont mind him celebrating Jamaica Day or whatever; I just wish theyd also incorporate English things. On VE Day, I took him into Birmingham to see the celebrations, because he has to celebrate his history as well. But he is absolutely oblivious to the fact that other people are a different colour to him. I think children of his generation are integrating more.

A lot of immigrants here say they dont want any more immigrants, but I havent heard many white people say they voted Brexit because of immigration. I dont know whether its because theyre scared of being accused of being racist. I voted Brexit because of all the money thats wasted on the EU. I dont think it will stop free movement and I dont think it means we wont have any trade; I just think it means well have a bit more control.

A lot of people have had enough of MEPs making so much money and not doing anything. Who can name an MEP, really? We dont seem to be getting any more rights out of it. Why not trim off all that excess spending and use it on things we do need? Theres a crisis in social care, and health services are being cut; the schools are constantly fighting cuts.

When you read about Brexit in the paper, they say, The people who voted for Brexit didnt know what was going on. Its hugely insulting to assume that just because were poor, we dont read newspapers and were all thick. Theyve got no concept of what its like to be poor, and how miserable people really are. I think it was a good result, and I think it taught the government to be careful what they wish for, because they did all this with no plan whatsoever; they were so sure remain was going to win. It serves them right.

Daljeet Singh, 40, painter and decorator

Ive lived in Smethwick all my life. My parents came from north India so my dad could work in the foundry. They were invited over, just like the Europeans were. Ive never had an issue with anyone thinking Im less British than they are. But when Punjabi people came here, they couldnt speak English, so they were victimised. Once my dad took me for a drink in the local pub and this guy at the bar started talking to him inappropriately, saying, Butbut dingding. I asked my dad, Why does he do this? and he said, Hes been doing it for years, its not an issue. I took the guy aside and said, Have you been taking the piss out of my dad for 20 years? He said, What do you mean? He never said anything. To this day that guy still buys me a drink in the pub, because he remembers that chat. I changed the way he thought.

Everybody I know voted leave. I voted leave because of my daughters, who are 12 and 15. They go to a grammar school and they feel held back because the foreigners coming into the school dont speak English well; it makes the classes go slower. It was also because Polish people are cutting off my work. Im a painter and decorator, and Im not getting the rates I used to because the Polish people are undercutting us. Thats the case generally in the building trade.

But Im angry that my parents voted out. Im very bitter about that. Its the hypocrisy of it, because they came over from India and they had an opportunity to integrate and they havent: my mum still barely speaks English. Theyve made lives and families for people like me, they worked hard; everyone else is just trying to do the same as they did. I think the way the Sikh community voted was hypocritical.

Sometimes I regret voting Brexit. In hindsight, without a shadow of a doubt, we didnt have enough information; it was turned into an immigration issue, which it wasnt, and as a whole were going to lose out. Other times, I stick by my decision. I need to think about where my works coming from.

Derek Craft, 80, retired factory worker

Derek Craft. Photograph: Diana Markosian

I moved to Smethwick in 1976, looking for work. I also had a pen friend here. We belonged to different divorced and separated clubs; I was the vice-chairman of the one in Portsmouth where I lived, and they used to have a magazine and she advertised for a pen friend. We were writing for two years before I moved here. We married in 1977 and were together for 39 years. She ended up having two major strokes, one of which should have killed her, but the hospital brought her round; I got another nine months with her.

Smethwick has changed a lot much of the old industry has gone. There were dirty factories, steel works and car component workshops; now theyre all new factories or houses, so in that way its better. Weve got more immigrants than whites. The shops are virtually all Asian, and the well-known ones, like Woolworths and David Greigs, are gone.

Its less British, because Ive found, working with some of them, that half the Asians dont want to mix. A very nice lad used to sit with us during the tea break, and he came in one morning and told us that someone in the factory had told his dad he sat with us, and his father had said, You are not to sit with them, you are to sit with your own people. It makes you feel, whats wrong with us?

I voted for Brexit because I think the common market has got out of hand. I think they waste an awful lot of money moving their offices once a month from Brussels to Strasbourg and back again. What were paying them is unbelievable, billions a year, which would do our own health service and schools good. Id like to see free movement from Europe cancelled. This country cant keep on taking people; the services cant cope with the influx, and there are not enough houses. When we won, I thought, Great, lets get on with it. I feel more strongly now. Lets get out.

Mohammed Jalal Uddin, 40, manager at a local training centre

Mohammed Jalal Uddin and family. Photograph: Diana Markosian

Ive been living in Smethwick since 2002, when I migrated from Bangladesh to study for an MBA at Birmingham City University. After completing my MBA, I managed to secure a job. Now Im living here happily with my wife and two children; my son is nine and my daughter is seven.

Smethwick has become overpopulated and there are more new faces, with a slight increase in antisocial behaviour over the past few years; the demand for housing has increased.

I had heard about that campaign slogan [If you want a nigger for a neighbour, vote Liberal or Labour from the 1964 local election], and that Malcolm X came to visit the year after, which is amazing. But to be honest, I dont think racial tension is a big issue now. From my experience, people do understand others their religions, their values, their cultural dimensions and characteristics. It could be an isolated judgment, but I havent seen the nasty side of community cohesion. People get along quite well, basically.

I felt Brexit was a protest vote, to show a lost trust in politics; traditional politicians are failing to deliver. People feel European migrants are putting unnecessary, undue pressure on public services, the NHS, school places, housing, and that if we come out of Europe that will ease the pressure. These are the day-to-day issues that people are fed up with.

I voted and actively campaigned to remain. I was really, really shattered by the result, because in the age of globalisation and connectivity, and at such a crucial time, this isnt the right decision. It is going backwards, and it was not an informed decision. The message were sending to the rest of the world is that were not open or collaborative. We dont want to work with other people: we are detaching ourselves.

Nine months on, I dont feel any more positive. Ive given up on trying to give reasons to remain because Im in the minority. But I know people who regret voting Brexit; they justify it by saying the politicians misled them.

Pat Peacock, 77, retired wages clerk

Pat Peacock. Photograph: Diana Markosian

Ive lived here my whole life. I was born in Hamble near Southampton, but my mother died having me, so I was brought here to live with my grandparents.

Smethwick has changed enormously. My road used to be full of bank managers and teachers, and there were no foreign people of any description. I remember seeing men wearing turbans for the first time when I was 10 or 11 and had taken my two cousins out for a walk. One of them said hello, and I said to my cousins, Run! because I had no idea: Id never seen Sikh people before.

My father was very racist but Im definitely not. The priest at my church is Nigerian and we have 22 other nationalities, people of all colours, shapes and sizes, and we all get on. The first foreigners who came were West Indians, and the others have come gradually. I consider them all friends. A lady down the road, Surinder, and I were once opposite each other in the hospital and weve been firm friends ever since. She called me when I came out, asked how I was and said, If you need anything at all, let me know and my family will get it for you. There are lots of kind people about.

I voted Brexit. I didnt vote for us to go into Brussels; I voted for the common market and I think we were cheated in that respect. We havent only got to trade with Europe, theres a whole world we can deal with. Im looking forward to getting back to how we were: running our own farms, being able to look after ourselves. Perhaps Im wrong but this is how I feel, that we werent told the full story back in 1975. We were just told it was good to be part of a common market; we werent told they would be ruling us. Im not really into politics, but the vote happened and I get cross when they try to reverse it. Now I think: lets just get on with it.

Taurai Chamoko, 44, salesman

Taurai and Catherine Chamoko with their children. Photograph: Diana Markosian

I was born in London. My parents were from Zimbabwe, although it was called Rhodesia at the time. We left the UK in 1977 to go to Nigeria. My dad was a civil engineer and had a job with the Nigerian government, building several highways. Towards the end of 1982, we went to live in Zimbabwe. In 1995 I moved to Brighton, where I met my wife Catherine, and in 2008 we moved to Smethwick with our month-old daughter.

I wanted to study mental health nursing at Birmingham City University, but changed my mind after three weeks. I didnt think it was something I would cope with emotionally. In 2009 I started a course in International Business and Economics at Aston University instead. We had three other children (they are now eight, seven, four and two) and they all settled in school, so we stayed. Ive spent the majority of my life in this country, and I am British.

The main change Ive seen here is the people coming from Poland. I dont think theres a lot of tension between the different communities everybody just gets on. What I worry about is the self-imposed segregation, these monocultural ghettos that are springing up: Pakistanis in one area, Polish people in another, white working class in another. It seems everybody is more comfortable with people who look the same as them, which is quite sad. Whether thats a conscious thing or if it just happens naturally, I dont know.

I was shocked by Brexit. I voted to remain. At university I learned to critically analyse things, and I was always arguing against the leave campaigns points of view. Usually when theres an election, I stay up late to find out who my MP is going to be, but this time I was confident we would remain. It was a big surprise. When I spoke to some of the parents at my childrens school, most had voted to leave. I was surprised and upset.

My point of view hasnt changed. It doesnt make sense to me that people want to leave the biggest market, then try to negotiate a good deal within that market. But I have accepted it. Its democracy, right?

This project was created in partnership with Magnum Photos. For more pictures go to Magnum Photos