#but i doubt as many people have seen my country a new age

[madtomedgar]

Actually that's not true I would also vote for nam seon-ho.

[kix-mm]

The gift, gt short story

Today was Daisy’s coming of age ceremony. The most important day of her life. This was the moment she would have to pick her future husband to rule alongside her. As queen and king. Of course, every potential suitor had to bring a gift of great value, some would say only the most priceless gifts were good enough for her hand, she was a favorite among many, including the people.

Daisy, on the other hand, wasn't the biggest fan of all this attention. Not only were the gifts often something of over-extraordinary value, some even going so far as to give away one or more of their countries most priceless relics, which put a tremendous amount of pressure on her shoulders. But the princes, princesses, and noble were rather stuck up.

The ceremony came to an abrupt halt when the gates swung wide open. Large fortified towers came in with chains pulling something with them. The very sight of this being caused a mass panic amongst the crowd and had many fleeing the scene. Including the same nobles who claimed that they never would back down a fight and would stand by Daisy's.

Daisy found herself frozen in place, unable to get her legs to move she felt the warm sun get eclipsed by a looming shadow. She felt an unpleasant chill despite it being the middle of summer. She looked up to where her eyes met another's. A giant.

Who would bring something so dangerous here? Who in their right minds would bring such a threat to the kingdom? Was this a threat? A sign of war?

Eventually, a squire approached, taking a deep bow. "Your majesty, may I have a word with you?" They spoke with upmost respect. But they had a shiver in their voice.

"You... may." she answered carefully, unable to break eye contact with the giant. "You have some explaining to do, actually... what is this?" She spoke in almost a whisper once the squire got close enough.

"My apologies, your majesty, there's no ill will here. This is a proposal to you, or rather, it was... you see, our lord wanted to go above and beyond. He wanted to prove his might and devotion to you..." they whisper in return.

"Was..? What happened to your lord? Where is he?" Daisy began to feel sweat run down her skin, the squires' uneasy posture and shaky voice, along with the absence of his lord, was very unsettling.

"Deceased your majesty... his dying wish was to have the gift delivered to you." The squire briefly looked up at the giant before focusing on the princess. Her rosy cheeks had turned pale along with the rest of her face. She looked like she could pass out at any moment.

"I see... thank you." she turned to her guards. "Take him to our dungeon. And have the ceremony end." And just like that. It did. Daisy was beyond consoling. All this pressure and planning had been cut short, a lot of effort had gone into this big day, and all her maids and servants had worked tirelessly to make everything as grand as possible. That wasn't even considering all her guests who came all this way to see her and intended to stay for several days. Unfortunately, Daisy just couldn't bring herself the ceremony with such a big issue underneath her feet.

She made her way down to the darkest dungeons, where they'd usually have all kinds of unforgivable criminals and monsters, that's the only place this new gift of hers would both fit and cause the least amount of problems.

She still had a hard time believing that this thing was right under her castle. And yet here it sat before her, she remembered it's eyes, those tired eyes... there was no doubt that had seen some unspeakable acts of man and more. The fighting arena was a place for those who had no care for blood on their money. The princess had mistakenly once accepted an invite to the horrid place. It's the very reason why they were banned from her small kingdom despite the huge amounts of money it received.

[rjzimmerman]

Anthony Fauci: A Mosquito in My Backyard Made Me the Sickest I’ve Ever Been. (New York Times)

Excerpt from this New York Times Op-Ed by Anthony Fauci:

There is no treatment for West Nile virus disease, and I was left to deal with its toll on my body. It was terrifying. I could not swing my legs over the side of the bed to sit up without help from my wife and three daughters. I could not stand up without assistance and certainly could not walk. A very scary part of the ordeal was the effect on my cognition. I was disoriented, unable to remember certain words, asking questions of my family that I should have known the answers to. I was afraid that I would never recover and return to normal.

Fortunately, over a period of a few weeks slow improvement began. I was able to walk with a walker and then without any assistance. Now I can walk a few miles per day with only minimal fatigue, and my cognitive issues have completely resolved. I am on my way to a total recovery, but it has been a harrowing experience.

I tell my story because West Nile virus is a disease that, for many people, can have devastating and permanent consequences. At my age of 83, I was at risk of permanent neurological impairment and even death. Yet the public may be unaware of the danger of this disease and that it continues to spread across the United States; it has been identified in 46 states this year. Unfortunately, very little is being done about it from scientific and public awareness perspectives.

West Nile virus belongs to the family of flaviviruses that also includes yellow fever and dengue viruses. It was first detected in the United States in the New York City area in 1999, most likely introduced from the Middle East or parts of Africa where it is prevalent. Mosquitoes get the virus from infected birds, and then pass the virus on to humans by a bite. West Nile virus infection is by far the most common mosquito-borne disease in the United States: Since 1999, about 60,000 cases have been reported. The actual number of infections is surely higher, no doubt in the millions, since many cases are not reported because infections are often asymptomatic or are confused with other common maladies such as flu. Among the reported cases in the United States, more than 30,000 have had neurological symptoms like mine, resulting in about 23,000 hospitalizations and close to 3,000 deaths.

As climate change makes it easier for mosquitoes to proliferate in many places, West Nile virus disease as well as other mosquito-borne illnesses are emerging as greater threats in this country and elsewhere. Yet, efforts to develop a vaccine or treatment for this illness are modest compared with those for other diseases of public health importance.

So, how do we address this emerging public health threat? Vaccine development must go forward; however, to be successful, clinical trials must be international and include countries with a consistent and large number of cases each year. The pathway to a vaccine cannot be in the United States alone. Global public-private partnerships between the N.I.H. and the drug industry have historically proved successful in the development of a number of important vaccines such as those against hepatitis B and Covid. There is no reason this shouldn’t also be the case for a West Nile virus vaccine.

The same holds true for the development of antiviral drugs. There is no insurmountable scientific obstacle to developing safe and effective antiviral drugs for West Nile virus infection. The pharmaceutical industry in collaboration with the N.I.H. and other partners had remarkable success in developing effective drugs for other emerging viral infections. Examples include lifesaving drugs for H.I.V. infection, therapies for hepatitis C infection and useful drugs for Covid-19 and influenza. With international research partnerships and political will spurred by an engaged activist community such as we have seen with H.I.V. and now long Covid, West Nile virus treatments and prevention tools should be within our grasp.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

LOTR Newsletter – September 17

Today’s entry covers everything from the end of Bilbo’s 111th birthday party (after he leaves), which is also Frodo’s 33rd birthday party, to many years later, when Frodo is 49 years old, in April.

So, what’s been going on (outside the Shire, in particular)?

First: Bilbo’s behaviour before leaving makes Gandalf strongly suspects that his Ring is the One Ring (before that, he had been sometims worried, but unsure). In “The Shadow of the Past,” Gandalf says to Frodo, “He [Bilbo] said and did things then that filled me with a feat that no words of Saruman could allay. I knew at last that something dark and deadly was at work.” At the Council of Elrond, Gandalf says, “Time passed with many cares, until my doubts were awakened again to sudden fear…That was seventeen years ago. Soon I became aware that spies of many sorts, even birds and beasts, were gathered round the Shire, and my fear grew. I called for the help of the Dúnedain, and their watch was doubled; and I opened my heart to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur.”

I find it quite sweet that, while Gandalf acknowledges to Frodo that Bilbo’s behaviour around the Ring on the night of the Party was startling, at the Council of Elrond he obscures the reason (‘my doubts were awakened again’) to avoid alluding to things that could be embarassing to Bilbo in front of a large group of prominent people.

Appendix B confirms that Gandalf’s conversation with Aragorn, and the doubling of the Rangers’ guard on the Shire, happened in the same year as the Party.

Bilbo travels to the Lonely Mountain for a visit, and then settles in Rivendell, as he later tells Frodo: “I got here without much adventure, and after a rest I went on with the Dwarves to Dale: my last journey. I shan’t travel again. Old Balin has gone away. Then I came back here, and here I have been.”

Gandalf and Aragorn look for Gollum over many years without succeess, and Gandalf checks in on Frodo itermittently:

For three years after the Party he [Gandalf] had been away. Then he paid Frodo a brief visit, and after taking a good look at him he went off again. During the next year or two he had turned up fairly often, coming unexpectedly after dusk, and going off without warning before sunrise. He would not discuss his own business and journeys, and seemed chiefly interested in small news about Frodo’s health and doings. Then suddenly his visits had ceased. It was [at the end of today’s reading] over nine years since Frodo had seen or heard of him.

From Gandalf only entering or leaving Bag End after dark, he evidently still fears the Shire is being watched, and does not wat to draw attention to Frodo.

About six years after the Party (about a year before the nine-year-break in Gandalf’s visits to Frodo), Aragorn’s mother Gilraen dies. She has been living among the Dúnedain in Eriador (she left Rivendell a few years after Aragorn fell for Arwen and Elrond told him that she could not marry him until/unless he becomes King of both Gondor and Arnor – in effect, until there was peace and Aragorn had played a substantial role in bringing it about; this suggests to me that things may have been at least a bit uncomfortable between Gilraen and Elrond after that). By the time of Gilraen’s death Aragorn and Arwen’s first meeting is 56 years ago, and they have already been engaged for 27 years

She [Gilraen] seldom saw her son again, for he spent many years in far countries. But on a time, when Aragorn had returned to the North, he came to her, and she said to him before he went:

“This is our last parting, Estel, my son. I am aged by care, even as one of lesser Men; and now that it draws near I cannot face the darkness of our time that gathers upon Middle-earth. I shall leave it soon.”

Aragorn tried to comfort her, saying: “Yet there may be a loght beyond the darkness; and if so, I would have you see it, and be glad.”

But she answered only with this linnod: ‘Onen i-Estel Edain, û-chebin estel anim [I gave Hope to the Dúnediain, I have kept no hope for myself]’

and Aragorn went away heavy of heart. Gilraen died before the next spring.

Over the nine years that Gandalf does not visit Frodo, he and Aragorn continue interrmeittently to search for Gollum. For many years they do not find him, and at some time in these years Gollum enters Mordor and is captured by Sauron. These years are also when even hobbits in The Shire begin to heard dark rmours of outside events.

At some point in the year 3017 (the year before the main events of The Lord of the Rings begin), Gollum is released from Mordor. “The Hunt for the Ring” in Unfinished Tales gives us some dates for the events that follow.

At some point in late 3017 or early 3018, Gandalf departs from his and Aragon’s search for Gollum on the borders of Mordor, and goes to Minas Tirth. As he tells at the Council of Elrond:

“There [on the edges of Mordor] we had rumour of him [Gollum], and we guess that he dwelt there long in the dark hills; but we never found him, and at last I despaired. And in my despair I thought of a test that might make the finding of Gollum unneeded. The ring itself might tell if it were the One.”

He remember’s some if Saurman’s lore about hidden markings on the Ring, and goes to Minas Turith and finds Isildur’s scroll about it, and about the fire-letters.

Not long after Gandalf leaves for Minas Tirith, on February 1st, 3018, Aragorn captures Gollum in the Dead Marshes. Aragorn has an unpleasant journey to Mirkwood with Gollum as captive, lasting fifty days (and covering nearly 900 miles; that’s 18 miles/day, with a hostile captive), and reaches Thranduil on March 21st. Fron Unfinished Tales:

Hoping to escape detection by any of Sauron’s spies he drove Gollum through the north end of the Emyn Muil, and crossed Anduin just above Sarn Gebir. Drifwood was often cast up there on the shoals by the east shore, and binding Gollum to a log he swam across with him, and continued his journey north by tracks as westerly as he could find, through the skirts of Fangorn, and so over Limlight, then over Nimrodel and Silverlode through the eaves of Lórien, and then on. avoiding Moria and Dimrill Dale, over Gladden until he came near the Carrock.

As Gandalf rides north, messengers from Lothlórien tell him that Aragorn has captured Gollum and is bringing him to Thranduil. Gandalf arrives in Mirkwood on March 23rd, and questions him for several days, then leaves in the morning of March 29th, travelling to the Shire as fast as he can. He reaches the Shire the evening of April 12th, right after Sam’s argument with Ted Sandyman at The Green Dragon.

(One other thing I wanted to mention that amused me: apparently in medieval writings the village miller is almost always disliked and antagonistic. Medieval farmers were reliant on the miller to grind their grain to flour, and this left the miller with ample opportunities for overcharging, or for skimming off some of the flour. The Canterbury Tales is one example of a disliked miller character. I found it entertaining that Tolkien carried over this trope in first the Gaffer Gamgee arguing with the elder Sandyman, and then Sam arguing with his son.)

[hassedah]

I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk about this, but what last name do you think the boys+neil would have? Have a nice day<3

What are the boys' last names? :

Hi! How are you? I hope you are well! ^^

Here's the headcanons you requested! I hope you enjoy it! ^^

It was a bit complicated because family names didn't always exist. But I did what I could to try and remain consistent.

Take care of yourself and have a nice day! ^^

Vladimir :

I assume that Vladimir has an English last name and not one of the upper classes of the time, given that his mother is one of the new rich.

I think he didn't get his father's last name because I imagine that Vladimir's father's relationship with his family must really not have been good, by which I mean that his mother's family is not the only rich family in Europe at the time and yet that's who he chose for an arranged marriage, when it would have been much simpler to take a Hungarian family and not move so far away from the land he was supposed to inherit (I mean, it's shooting yourself in the foot to move so far away). Secondly, Vladimir doesn't seem to know exactly where his father's family lives, which seems a bit strange because : You don't travel much in those days, but you exchange letters with your family and friends and, above all, there are maps, boats and the train which is developing. What's more, Vladimir's mother's family is rich, so they can pay for the journey without any problems.

Vladimir is still very attached to his last name, which is a bit unusual for a vampire of his age. He continues to use it frequently, whether to sign letters or other documents, or even to introduce himself to other vampires.

Béliath :

I don't think there are any family names for incubi and succubi, there probably aren't very many of them and they are all easily recognisable by a particular feature, such as "Asmodeus the powerful", without doubt Beliath is known as Beliath son of Asmodeus.

He really doesn't understand the purpose of last names among humans, or how they're supposed to be passed on, let alone why some people are so attached to them - after all, he doesn't have one and he doesn't mind. He wouldn't mind taking his partner's last name if his partner wanted it.

He sometimes uses last name when he wants to pass himself off a bit more as a human, but they're always the most basic last names possible. He used to have fun using more original ones, but Aaron pointed out to him that it was stupidly dangerous to make himself stand out even more than he already was by his behaviour, so since then he's been much more careful.

Ivan :

I can imagine him having a compound last name, perhaps a French last name and a Slavic last name. My idea is that at least one of his parents comes from a Slavic country or has parents from a Slavic country (which would explain his first name other than the idea that his parents were fans of a film character called Ivan).

Ivan, like the vast majority of young vampires, finds it hard to shake off his family name. He uses it often, much too often in the eyes of Aaron, who finds it dangerous, after all, the town is small and there shouldn't be any namesakes. Ivan tries hard to break the habit, but he can't help it, he's still too attached to his last name to forget it.

Sometimes he tries to use a different one, but they're often last names taken from films or characters he really likes. It's no more discreet than his real last name, but Aaron thinks it's better than nothing.

Aaron :

It's more complicated for Aaron because I have no idea how last name evolved in Spain during the century in which he was born. But I suppose if he has a last name it's probably his mother's, as he was born out of wedlock and his mother doesn't seem to have lived with his father. Perhaps something to do with sewing, as his mother was a seamstress for the village, so he would probably have been known as the seamstress's son.

Aaron has almost forgotten his last name anyway. He never uses it and isn't even sure how it's supposed to be spelt. It doesn't really matter to him though, it's just a last name and he doesn't feel particularly attached to it, preferring to be known as his mother's son as he was brought up entirely by her.

Most of the time, when he has to use a last name, he uses very common last name depending on the country he lives in: Smith when he lives in England, for example, or Martin when he lives in France. Its aim is to go as unnoticed as possible.

Raphaël :

There's not much difference in age between Raphael and Aaron, and I don't know how the family name evolved in Italy at that time either. But, I suppose it would be an Italian last name, probably related to art or painting, especially if his family had been painters for several generations. If his father was famous, there's a good chance that he would also have called himself Raphael, son of "his father's name". On the other hand, if it was his family in general that was famous, he would probably have defined himself by a last name.

He likes his last name, even though he doesn't use it any more, it's still part of his life in one way or another. He wouldn't introduce himself with it though.

Raphaël doesn't care about discretion, if he has to use a last name he'll always choose something nice to the ear, even if it's completely out of tune with the time or place he lives in. This really annoys Aaron, because yes, Raphaël will use the last name Rossignol without hesitation, a nightingale is pretty, so why shouldn't he use it, and yes, he'll also use the last name Citron, he likes lemons and yellow is a very pretty colour, so why shouldn't he be called Raphaël Citron?

Ethan :

A Finnish last name, I imagine a fairly common one. There's a good chance it's his father's last name.

He remains quite attached to it, even though he hasn't used his last name for years. After all, it's the last thing he has left of his parents that still ties him to his family. However, nobody at the manor knows him, he really prefers to keep it to himself like a secret; he doesn't think he'd like to hear one of his housemates call him by his last name.

Like Raphaël, he uses last names that he likes rather than discreet ones, and he uses a lot of last names from films or video games that he likes, so he's already introduced himself as Skywalker or Wayne, much to Aaron's dismay.

Neil :

There isn't really a last name at the time, I think the way he defines himself changes between before he takes hostages and after, before I'd see him introducing himself more as Neil son of "his father's name" (and even then given that the relationship with his father was pretty bad I doubt he really wanted to define himself that way) then if you follow the canon of the game and the history he'd introduce himself as Neil Noígíallach after taking the 9 hostages. But as with many people at the time, it's more a name to show off his exploits than a real last name.

I don't think he uses his last name much. He uses it to impress people and to remind them that he's old and powerful. But he doesn't attach too much importance to it.

He is one of the only vampires who can present himself under his family name. So he doesn't try to invent one when he wants to introduce himself. Vampires who know a bit about Irish history immediately understand who he is, and apart from humans who know a bit about Irish history, most don't really react.

Léandra :

As with Beliath, Leandra is better known as Leandra daughter of Asmodeus. She has not yet achieved anything significant enough to be known for it, but she's trying to achieve something big enough among the succubi to be known for it.

She doesn't understand at all the attraction humans have for family names, or why they always seem to be passed down through the father. As far as she's concerned, if they were to be passed down at all, it would only be through the most powerful parent or the one who has achieved the greatest feat.

When she has to introduce herself under a last name among humans, she always looks for something amusing and sensual. Yes, she has no problem calling herself Léandra Blackwidow, she even finds it very amusing. In fact, she makes a lot of puns with her first name.

Farah :

She's older than Aaron and I have the same problem as him. What's more, given that she left her family with her brother after a row with their father, I'd imagine there's little chance of her introducing herself as Farah, daughter of "her father's name". Perhaps she'd introduce herself as Farah, Ernesto's sister for a while and then probably as Farah, "the pack leader's name".

She understands the usefulness of last name but has never actually used one. It's not something that's really common among werewolves, as most of them define themselves by the pack to which they belong. In most cases, a last name is completely useless.

If she really has to use a last name, she'll look for something common to the time and country she's in, to try and go as unnoticed as possible.

[fractiflos]

Please, 5 heacanons for an Anastasia AU where Emperor All for One has been looking for his long-missing little brother. Second and Third are a pair of poor conmen who find an amnesiac orphan named Yoichi and decide to turn him into a fake prince. Except when they actually meet All for One they start to have serious doubts about letting Yoichi go.

Sorry, this took so long, it's been so long since I've seen this, I had to rewatch it. But it was fun! Sorry it got so long though.

Note: I made up a fake country for the emperor to rule. I find this fitting as we all know AFO only becomes an emperor in his imagination.

The Shigaraki family rules the country of Ronea, when their exiled advisor, Garaki, comes and tries to take over, cursing them. Then a revolution happens and they're overthrown. Every one of them is killed except for two. Hisashi (who's 18), who stays behind to fight off the revolutionaries with his own magic, and Yoichi (8) who escaped with the help of two servant boys (Second and Third). He meant to come back, but was knocked down and hit his head. He would end up at an orphanage with no memory of his previous life. Oh, and Hisashi killed Garaki and took all the magic for himself, managing to uncurse them.

10 years later and AFO, after fighting off the revolutionaries and taking his place as emperor, has placed a high bounty for the safe return of his brother, who everyone assumes is dead, but no one's going to tell the emperor he's delusional. Meanwhile, Second and his best friend Third, have become conmen after being unable to continue work as servants in the palace, as they got really tired of being forced to care for the emperor's Demon King dolls action figures. They decide to try and turn in a fake prince. Sure, others have tried it, but they have insider knowledge, so obviously they would succeed.

Meanwhile, Yoichi has been tossed from home to home, finally escaping the system at age 18. He has only one relic from his previous life, a silver bracelet with "My Little Brother" inscribed. Not super helpful, but whatever, he's given up any hope of family and is off to Paris to pursue his dream of becoming an author, with the corgi he finds on the way there, which he names Tomura. Sadly, AFO isn't letting anyone leave the country, just in case they happen to be his brother. The only way out is to be smuggled out, and so, he's directed to find The Number Duo.

Shocked by his resemblance to the prince and his coincidental matching name, they convince him to pretend to be Prince Yoichi. After all, surely the prince will have the time to write a book and the money to move to Paris. He agrees; Cue the prince training montage with all the kind of flirting and stuff.

Of course, they don't have to go on a big journey here, as they're all in the same country, they just have to say they found the prince and they'll be let in. AFO never gave up on seeing his brother again, no matter how many fakes he had to go through. (He kills them, but not many people know that little detail)

Yoichi starts to remember more and more of his old life as they walk through the palace, and is able to ace the test AFO gives him, including details he was never even taught. Like how he managed to escape...

In order to celebrate, AFO invites them all to a party he's throwing in honor of his brother's return, but the number duo can't help but feel that something's not right with the man. Something about the look in his eye doesn't seem quite right. Their suspicions are confirmed when AFO's new advisor, Toshinori Yagi tells them about how AFO has used the souls of the fakes he killed to power up a new spell. One that will keep Yoichi from ever having to leave him again.

Meanwhile, Yoichi can't help the uneasiness he feels around his brother, but ignores it. They're family after all. (The bracelet feels heavy around his wrist.) Tomura the corgi runs off just as the party starts and ends up in the gardens, right into AFO's arms. There, Yoichi finds out just what he's planning through AFO's monologue, which triggers a few more flashbacks.

You see, AFO and Garaki had been best friends, and learned dark magic together, eventually selling their souls for the opportunity to carry out their plans. AFO becoming emperor and the rest of his family (sans Yoichi) getting killed was planned, but Garaki trying to take the throne for himself, was not, so he got killed. Yoichi was the only family AFO had loved as the rest all made fun of him, so he wanted to keep him around forever. He gave Yoichi the bracelet (which he had sold his soul for) saying to always wear it, as it would protect him in times of need. That was a lie, the bracelet was enchanted, but it needed to be activated first. The enchantment made it so that Yoichi's soul would leave his body and be forever bound to his brother, unable to leave him again.

Second & Third arrive on the scene and it turns into a battle, where Tomura manages to bite the bracelet off, but that only buys him time. Then there's a game of keep-away with the bracelet, and eventually Yoichi manages to break the bracelet, causing AFO to turn into dust.

AFO dies, and Yoichi becomes king of Ronea, marrying Second & Third. Tomura gets to live a spoiled life with some corgi friends he made, Mon-chan and Hana. Nana Shimura is the royal dogsitter. The Trioholders had their honeymoon in Paris and Yoichi got to write several books. The end.

This was a lot more than what I was expecting to write, but I really love this movie.

In my original version (what I came up with before I rewatched the movie), AFO was the evil advisor and brainwashed everyone into thinking Yoichi was his little brother who went tragically missing when some evil revolutionaries (AKA Yoichi's real family) stormed the palace. Those revolutionaries were the Aoyama family. He was Yoichi Aoyama. That one was so different I thought I'd mention it here.

Anyway, I hope you liked this :)

[hel-phoenyx]

15) The Bitch is Dead

Kaizarz and Matilda are @corneille-but-not-the-author's characters

The streets of Alfsjland are completely covered in black, today. I spot in some corners a little pit of purple, but it's the only color visible to my eyes, except for my own clothes, or my sons.

Junior is starting to walk, so today I was trustful enough to bring him in the city. I had groceries to buy anyway, and maybe I could try to find a job. Mom and Dad's fortune is waning by the day and I can't count on Tyrfing anymore.

The thought alone is enough to make me shiver in rage.

But Tyrfing is not important today. He didn't show his face since two years, anyway, it's like he's dead for everyone. He is, to me. But I hardly doubt such grief is for a fallen prince, even if people, from what I know, are unaware of what really happened on that boat.

Everyone walks with their heads low, and some of the bourgeoisie are even crying. Fake tears, no doubt, but they're people that could be executed if we didn't see the cry.

All of that is enough of a hint, but just to be sure, I hail a woman passing next to me. She has a child, too, so I can always call for her motherly pity if I am recognised.

"Excuse me ? I haven't been in the city for long, why is there so many grieving manifestations ?"

The woman pinches her lips.

"Ah, you must be from the contryside, if you haven't heard ! Her Majesty Matilda IIIrd died yesterday after a long agony, so we're grieving like we should for a sovereign !"

Her tone of voice is telling enough. She is absolutely not affected by her death, and if she wasn't in the open, with a woman she doesn't know, she would have told me the news with a smile.

But what she thinks is not important.

So the bitch is dead.

Ha.

Mom would have been so happy.

I nod, and take junior in my arms. If really Matilda is dead, we're even more in danger to be recognised. I may be dirty, considerably thinner that before and my hair only is starting to grow back from the grief haircut, but the second I'm spotted and it's all over.

Junior is technically an heir to the crown, after all. And if Tyrfing doesn't reappear, he may be the next in line.

"Thanks, ma'am. I take it the coronation is soon ?"

"Tomorrow, in fact. Those old crows at the council are in a rush to put his Highness on the throne, we've got the shortest grief period for a king I've ever seen. And I've seen Hrogni die, my good lady."

I try to keep a composed face hearing the name of my grandfather. Please, gods, whatever is hearing me, make so that she doesn't notice she's talking to his granddaughter.

Junior is squirming in my arms, but I keep him close. Anxiety will get the better of me if I don't let go. He's the only one I have left. I can't let people take him from me.

"This is not surprising, even where I'm from I heard his Highness is one of the most popular heirs to the throne in a long time."

Even though it hurts so much to say it. I hope no one can taste the acid in my mouth. Not even junior.

It's not good to show hatred to the king in those times and ages.

And of course, the woman nods and smiles.

"For sure. So young, and he managed to at least halt so many of the crises this country is going through. With him on the throne, we're sure to prosper, and who knows, maybe we'll stop this war !"

I don't believe it one second. He wasn't even able to stop a tragedy.

But I can't say that to that lady. She would treat me with far less kindness. And maybe the smile she is giving me would falter even more surely than my husband's life.

"I've heard the entire city is invited to the coronation, that the palace is gonna be open to everyone! Maybe I'll go, if I can afford a day of. Will you, my good lass ?"

I smile.

It is far too forced.

"Maybe."

But I already know the answer.

Seeing him with the crown on his head would be far too painful.

****

I was fishing on the shore, to redo my food stock, and maybe earn a coin or two. It's easy for me to fish, after all. I call upon me the sea creatures, and a spell leaves them helpless in my hand. It's one of the only reasons I didn't die yet, even if I so badly wanted to.

Anyway, I was fishing on the shore. Hidden from most, like usual; far away from my home, just in case. That's probably why I hear footsteps on the sand, on the other side of the cliff.

Besides some people from my past, I haven't heard humans for so long. It may be why I stopped what I was doing to get closer and eavesdrop. I won't get better ways to learn about news from the kingdom, after all.

They're two. Two children, teenagers maybe ; not older than I was when I last sailed. They're wearing ragged clothes, their faces are covered on dirt and under the clothing I can feel their thinness, but they're smiling like War herself gave them the wooden weapons they're holding.

"Haven't you heard ?" says one of them to his friend. "The Mad Queen is dead !"

"No way. How did you know that ?"

"I went to steal some bread in the market today and heard some people talking about it ! And then I asked Lucja and she said that they were right, that we're burying her today !"

They're still chirping, with the enthousiasm I would expect from kids, but I can't hear their words anymore.

So the Mad Queen is finally dead. She was, from what I can remember, in agony even two years ago. Constantly confined in her room, not talking to anyone ; at that point, she was queen only by name. Her son took over the regency something like three years ago.

That's what caused the biggest unrest.

I haven't heard anything else since then. Maybe because I, myself, became a shut-in. But if the queen is dead, and the children are talking about it with so much enthousiasm... I guess there is still an heir left.

Again, I pricked up my ear. The teens are still talking, with even more enthousiasm.

"The coronation is tomorrow," says one of them, the one that warned his comrade of the death of the Mad Queen. "And the people are invited ! I wanna go so badly..."

"You can't, your mom's going to kill you if you don't work a day ! We still need to eat, remember ?"

"Yeah, but that suuuucks ! I wanted to see the king ! Is he as tall as the legends say ?"

I sigh.

Knowing him, probably even taller.

So the day has come. Kaizarz is finally getting crowned. This was bound to happen, after all, but I can't help my heart to sink in my chest. The future really is unmovable, isn't it ?

A long time ago, I would have been delighted. Today it's just making me... I don't know. Sad. Woeful. I don't know. It doesn't feel as bad as it could, tho.

His coronation is tomorrow.

I promised him I'll be there when I was eight.

Today I'm almost eighteen, and that promise doesn't hold much weight anymore.

But

Maybe I can still keep it.

Maybe I'll see you tomorrow

my friend.

[mxdnxghtraven]

Take Back What's Yours

When the rich wage war it's the poor who die

I've thought about this line a lot recently. I've had the song and story it tells stuck in my head from having it on loop. I listened to the album its from since I was a kid and I never stopped to think about and analyze it until it came on during a shower.

It stopped me in my tracks. Not just how accurate it is historically, but also how disturbingly accurate it is in today's society. Risk something, take back what's yours / Say something that you know they might attack you for

I doubt it what was intended when it was written/released (2007, so not that old, but definitely not released within the last couple years), but this feels like this generation's mantra. There are several human rights issues in front of us, many of which aren't even covered by the media and news. More often than not, we're censored. Take the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade for example. There was a Palestine demonstration that was never seen on TV, as they'd cut away from the parade for the express purpose of hiding its existence. Our president is openly pro-Israel, so of course it's not on TV. Genocides are happening in front of us and the only way many of us find out is TikTok and searching on our own because it means something to us. It's dystopian to sit there and use a filter or sound to raise funds for aid for affected countries but what else are we to do when voices are being censored for speaking out?

I dug into the meaning of the song further, and it's a large fuck you to the US government under the Bush administration, the Iraq war, the disparity between rich and poor, and is essentially a call to action for citizens. This song has aged well, considering the events and issues we are facing today with the Biden administration. This isn’t appeasing to any agenda. It's a song that explains that it’s bullshit that we were part of the war and we’re losing service members. Innocent people are dying, serving or not.

Raise your voice. Raise other people's voices. Hold that little red book with pride. I wanna see some fists pumping.

[flyin-shark]

hi, about antitheism. (i am not going to be able to put that much effort into proofreading, i have an assignment due tonight and i have dyslexia.)i grew up in an antitheist cult, so i know what i'm talking about (yes antitheist cults are a thing and antitheism/atheism can be missionary, controlling, fundamentalist, etc, just like any religion, no i am no longer in the cult, no i am not an antitheist any more nor am i an atheist). first off, there is no ethical way to control people's belief systems. this goes just as much for antitheism as for religion. forcing people to believe in "truth" is impossible, because "truth" is almost impossible to achieve. the scientific method never reaches a point of truth. is the Newtonian model of physics truth or is Einstein's theory of relativity true instead? is Bohr's atom model truth, or do we need everyone to know about and always use the model believed to be most accurate at any time, even when it's less convenient for the calculations made? are we ever going to reach the full truth, or are we constantly going to discover new scientific theories? where should we stop looking? and any system for determining this truth would be corruptable, and whoopsie-daisy, now we've got fascists again. there's no system for deciding objective truth that cannot be corrupted (even science, take racial biology for example). and how would things like ideology work if everyone follows one truth, without resorting to fascism? also, the question of "is there a God" is beyond the scope of science. it's equally impossible to prove that there is no God, as it is to prove the existence of one. as such, the scientific model cannot determine either of them, and as such there is no way to say either is true (assuming we're attempting to use science as our model for truth here). belief in God should be a personal choice, not forced upon you, but neither should atheism. i also appreciate the disclaimer that you were speaking from a Christian perspective, although i wouldn't have needed it, because your ignorance of other religions was very clear. Disclaimer, I am not Jewish, but I have done a lot of research on the topic. Judaism is not missionary, and converting to Judaism is actively discouraged and takes over a year at minimum, doesn't force non-Jewish people to follow more than 7 basic rules (things like don't murder people), says that Jewish people may not obey the rules if doing so would endanger a life (theirs or another's), barely believes in an afterlife, and there's no unified picture of the afterlife but the consensus is that all good people go to Heaven, and either bad people don't get an afterlife, or their stay in Hell is temporary. doubting God and having a personal interpretation/opinion of the scriptures are seen as good things. Judaism is also used to abuse people, of course, but many of your specific complaints are extremely Christian-centric and it shows. antitheism scares me more than religion does though, because it presents itself as scientific and reasonable. religion presents itself as faith, and can be used to lure in vulnerable people that way, but something that presents itself as being based on truth, difficult to achieve at best and actively harmful at worst, based on (a misunderstanding of) science, that's scary, and can be used to fool people into a fascist mindset whilst presenting itself as otherwise. people should ALWAYS be allowed to believe whatever they want, and the trick to not end up with flat-earthers and conspiracy theorists is to have source criticism and thinking for yourself taught in good schools from a young age. with good education, people can think freely and still follow science. compassion and human rights can also be taught in schools. in my country, all these things are taught at schools, the curriculum is good, but the education system is bad, so it doesn't sink in properly. also, are you by any chance from the usa?

I went through this in detail so hopefully I answered all of your questions and concerns.

tldr: I don't think it's ok to force anyone to believe or not believe anything. Fascists can get fucked.

"i grew up in an antitheist cult, so i know what i'm talking about (yes antitheist cults are a thing and antitheism/atheism can be missionary, controlling, fundamentalist, etc, just like any religion"

"there is no ethical way to control people's belief systems"

I’m against cults and forcing people to do or believe anything. I’m sorry you were in a cult and I don’t support them. I never said that anyone should be controlling anyone else’s belief systems. Antitheism and atheism aren't religions but sure people can value them and be assholes.

"forcing people to believe in "truth" is impossible, because "truth" is almost impossible to achieve"

I agree that you can’t force anyone to believe in truth nor should you force them. I am explicitly antifascist and I do not support anyone trying to force beliefs onto others. I don't think anyone can reach absolute truth about anything since we all perceive reality through our subjective experiences. However, we appear to share the same reality and so if you care about believing in true things then we should find the best way to figure out what's true.

"the scientific method never reaches a point of truth"

I’m not a scientist but my understanding is that the scientific method isn’t a way of finding out what’s true. Science develops reliable models that are most consistent with reality. Science never proves anything to be true. The process starts with an observation about reality, forming a testable hypothesis to explain a phenomenon, testing the hypothesis, running more experiments and peer review, trying to disprove the hypothesis, and after failing to reject the hypothesis we go with that tentatively until we find something better. This is the best method we currently have of finding out what things are consistent with reality.

So when you ask if Newton’s model or Einstein’s model is “true” you’re missing the point of those models. They’re just trying to put facts in order and explain the phenomena we see as accurately as possible. They aren't making truth claims. For example, a map from the 1600s is wrong but more useful than having no map at all. A modern day map is more accurate but still doesn't show all of the details of the real locations. Maps using data from satellites and other advanced technology is even more accurate but still don't show the world exactly how it is. Each model is more accurate than the last but they're all wrong because they're just maps and not the actual place.

"Do we need everyone to know about and always use the model believed to be most accurate at any time, even when it's less convenient?"

No. Take gravity for example. If someone's idea of gravity is "when you drop something, it falls" that's perfectly fine for the average person just living their life. It's not perfectly accurate but it's enough for the average person. Anyone dealing with planes or spacecraft or physics will probably want a more advanced understanding of gravity.

"are we ever going to reach the full truth, or are we constantly going to discover new scientific theories? where should we stop looking?"

I don't think we will ever reach absolute truth or absolute certainty about anything. Still, we should continue to study and learn more about reality. I'm curious why you ask where we should stop looking as opposed to when. Are there certain subjects that we shouldn't try to learn more about?

"any system for determining this truth would be corruptable, and whoopsie-daisy, now we've got fascists again. there's no system for deciding objective truth that cannot be corrupted (even science, take racial biology for example)"

The thing I like about science is that it checks itself. We found out racial biology was bullshit by using science. We found out you can't measure someone's skull and determine their intelligence by using science. We found out that there's no causal link between vaccines and autism by using science. If we're wrong about something the way we figure that out is almost always if not always through science.

"how would things like ideology work if everyone follows one truth, without resorting to fascism?"

I don't know how people believing the same things about reality would result in fascism but also I'm not saying that everyone should believe the same things or have the same ideology. Truth is that which aligns with reality. I think everyone should believe in true things and not believe untrue things. But I'm not forcing anyone to believe or not believe in anything. It's just my opinion.

"the question of "is there a God" is beyond the scope of science. it's equally impossible to prove that there is no God, as it is to prove the existence of one. as such, the scientific model cannot determine either of them, and as such there is no way to say either is true (assuming we're attempting to use science as our model for truth here)."

It depends on which god you're talking about. If someone believes in a god that doesn't interact with reality, just started the universe and left, then yes that god is outside the scope of science because we have no way of investigating outside of reality. However most theists believe in a god or gods that interact with reality in some detectable way. Those gods do fall within the scope of science.

"belief in God should be a personal choice, not forced upon you, but neither should atheism."

I agree but I'm going to be a bit pedantic here. I don't think people choose their beliefs. People are either convinced or unconvinced of something based on some evidence or reasoning. Regardless of whether it's good evidence or not they are either convinced or unconvinced by it. Anyway it shouldn't be forced on anyone.

"i also appreciate the disclaimer that you were speaking from a Christian perspective, although i wouldn't have needed it, because your ignorance of other religions was very clear."

I made that disclaimer specifically because I don't know almost anything about other religions and wasn't talking about them. I specified that I'm an antitheist broadly because there isn't enough evidence to believe in a god. And then I went into the specifics of the religion I'm most familiar with and the harm it can cause.

On your points about Judaism. Ok? They can believe in whatever. I'm saying that you shouldn't believe in things without good evidence. They can listen to my opinion or not care about it. I don't really care either way. I have no problem with them practicing their traditions and maintaining their heritage.

"many of your specific complaints are extremely Christian-centric and it shows"

Yes because I was specifically talking about Christianity as that's the only religion I have some familiarity with. I wasn't talking about all religions broadly. If anyone from another religion wants to talk to me about what they believe and why then I would love to have that conversation. Maybe they'd even convert me.

"antitheism scares me more than religion does though, because it presents itself as scientific and reasonable. religion presents itself as faith, and can be used to lure in vulnerable people that way, but something that presents itself as being based on truth, difficult to achieve at best and actively harmful at worst, based on (a misunderstanding of) science, that's scary, and can be used to fool people into a fascist mindset whilst presenting itself as otherwise."

Antitheism is just an opposition to theism. It doesn't say that we should force theists to convert to atheists. I'm an antitheist because I don't think people should be theists. The main reason is the lack of sufficient evidence. The other reason is the harm that believing in a god can cause. But also this is just my opinion. I am in no way forcing others to change their beliefs. Fascists can come from any religious or nonreligious background. So can antifascists. Here in the US we're dealing with Christian fascists at the moment but I don't doubt that there are fascists that don't believe in god.

Religion does not present itself as faith. Faith is the method through which people believe in the religion. Religions claim certain things to be true. Again using Christianity as an example, it claims that it is true that there is a god and that Jesus died for our sins. People believe that on faith but they also claim it to be true.

"people should ALWAYS be allowed to believe whatever they want, and the trick to not end up with flat-earthers and conspiracy theorists is to have source criticism and thinking for yourself taught in good schools from a young age. with good education, people can think freely and still follow science. compassion and human rights can also be taught in schools."

I agree with all of this. I object to the wording of "follow science" since it makes science sound like a religion rather than a methodology. But besides that I agree with all of this. Unfortunately whether any of this is taught in school varies depending on where you live. In many places in the southern US especially, there's still a fight to separate religion and government. I think Texas passed a law requiring schools to have "In God we Trust" posters up on the walls.

"in my country, all these things are taught at schools, the curriculum is good, but the education system is bad, so it doesn't sink in properly. also, are you by any chance from the usa?"

Source criticism, thinking for yourself, thinking freely, compassion, and human rights are taught in your schools? That's great! Yes I am in the US. I thought that would be obvious from the Christian-centric antitheist perspective lol.

Anyway I hope I answered all of your questions and concerns. If you have anymore feel free to send another ask or dm me.

[thestalwartheart]

garden

Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Warnings: None Relationships: James Bond/Q, James Bond/Madeleine Swann Word Count: 1,270 Summary:

A wedding and a present. Features unrequited James/Q and James/Madeleine.

Read below or on AO3.

---

It’s a perfect summer afternoon when James Bond marries Madeleine Swann in an English country garden. It’s a small wedding because neither of them have many friends in the living world, and trustworthy espionage circles are always small. Throughout the ceremony, Q can feel the sun burning the back of his neck. The heavy scent of jasmine tickles his nose.

“Do you, James—”

“I do.”

The celebrant sighs with faux irritation. “You might let me finish, Mr Bond.”

Bond winks at Madeleine, and the other guests laugh good-naturedly. Q manages a thin smile. He wouldn’t bother at all, but he seems to have ended up sitting in the front row in prime position to be photographed behind the happy couple.

And, Christ, they are happy. Q doesn’t think he’s seen two people happier or more beautiful. Admittedly, he doesn’t get out to many weddings, but no one at this one can stop talking about how lovely Bond and Dr Swann look together. Even during the ceremony, the praise moves around the crowd in a hush. Everything is gorgeous, they whisper. So pretty. Charmant. Magnifique. A perfect day for two perfect-looking people.

Q should not be here. The only reason he’s here is because he’d been reliably informed (or sternly warned, depending on who one asked) that he would break Bond’s heart if he missed it.

The intel seems decidedly dodgy. As Q watches Bond sweep Madeleine into a kiss for the ages, he knows the man’s heart is impervious to any fractures today.

That belief only strengthens when he catches Bond and Dr Swann making the rounds during the cocktail hour. Q watches them move amongst the crowd in a united front, accepting drinks and charming the metaphorical pants off everyone. There’s one particular couple they very nearly charm the literal pants off of if Q can draw any conclusions from all the touching, smiling, and slightly too-loud laughter.

As for himself, he loiters at the edges of the party. That means he’s the last in a line of people, but both Bond and Dr Swann look delighted to see him. Bond even goes so far as to say it.

“Q. They always do say to leave the best for last.”

“Congratulations, 007. Dr Swann,” he says with a smile, sidestepping Bond’s compliment. “It was a beautiful ceremony. Just lovely.”

He directs the latter to the new bride since he very much doubts that James Bond has been knee-deep in floral arrangements and seating charts in the last few months. Though, who knows, really? Bond might have replaced his hours at the gun range for examining fabric samples. One had to have a hobby after all, and when killing and resurrection were out, well…

“Q, please,” Dr Swann demurs.

“Right, yes. Madeleine. My apologies.” He raises his glass to her. “You look utterly enchanting. Your dress…I mean, my goodness. You’ve rendered us all speechless.”

He’s surprised to find there isn’t a hint of bitterness in that compliment. In her understated, figure-hugging silk gown, she looks exquisite and radiant in the way all happy brides are.

Bond hums. “How come she gets to first name basis within a year, and I’m still 007?”

Ah, and there’s the bitterness. You weren’t always, comes the ill-advised thought. You know it and I know it.

Q clears his throat.

“I’m afraid it’s only people who don’t make a point of destroying my equipment who get to first name basis.” Q turns to Dr Swann. “Has he been treating the car well?”

“Perfectly.” She aims a smile at him that travels and ends in a soft look at Bond. Q isn’t sure how much more he can take of this. “He’s been ever so responsible.”

“You’re sure you’ve married the right man? That seems completely incongruous with his personality.”

She laughs. “It does, doesn’t it? And yet, he’s been very good.”

They’ve become momentarily distracted, as is the custom of newlyweds everywhere. Q looks away while they kiss, twisting his fingers around his glass of bubbly. He’s never quite gotten the hang of delicate champagne flutes like this. They always seem far too breakable, the stems especially. All afternoon he’s been expecting his to snap.

It is a very long kiss.

From the other side of the garden, over Bond’s shoulder, Moneypenny sends him a sympathetic look and makes a show of pouring him a shot of one lethal spirit or another. Tequila, most likely. Never in his life has Q longed quite so much for the taste of strong alcohol followed by a blackout.

He returns to earth when he hears Dr Swann address him again. “I’ll give you two a moment. I need to talk to the photographer.”

“Ah, of course. I’ll let you—”

But Madeleine has swanned off (Q pardons himself for the pun), and Bond suddenly has a hand on his arm. It feels as warm as the sunburn on the back of his neck. Warmer, even. And terribly familiar.

“Thank you for coming,” says Bond with quiet solemnity. “I know it’s hard for you to get away these days.”

“Oh, nonsense. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Fortunately, just as Q is on the edge of saying anything more sentimental, he remembers why he’d waited to catch up with Bond in the first place. He reaches into his pocket. “Here. Thought I’d best not leave this with the other gifts.”

He holds out a little black box, and Bond takes it, his lips already curling in a smile. Somewhere in a tree nearby, a pair of robins sing.

“Is this what I think it is?” Bond doesn’t wait for an answer. With barely-suppressed excitement, he opens the lid to reveal a fountain pen — an engraved dark blue and silver Montegrappa.

Q tries not to grimace as Bond reads the description. In hindsight, Yours, Q, may have been a little on the nose.

If Bond thinks so, he doesn’t show it. When he looks up, those bright blue eyes are filled with cheeky wonder, the sort he used to aim at Q over blink-and-you’ll-miss-it weaponry and hacking jobs that shredded the software systems of rogue governments.

“Does it do anything?” Bond asks.

“It writes a lovely letter. If that doesn’t attract enough attention, try twisting the nib ninety degrees and clicking down twice.” More seriously, Q continues. “I do hope you won’t need it for a purpose beyond letter writing, but on the off-chance you do…if there’s anything you need, anything at all...”

He trails off. No ending to that sentence seems quite right. Call me seems too trite, and he doesn’t actually want Bond calling for the odd favour, not when the mere thought of the man has Q feeling like glass about to shatter. I’ll be here really is far too on the nose. Of course he will. Q will forever be in England, in London, at MI6. Bond will not. I’ll provide it is shockingly redundant. Bond has always known Q would give him whatever he asked.

After a moment, Bond looks over at Madeleine. His thumb repeatedly strokes over the pen's engraving. Q suspects he's completely unaware he's even doing it.

“I think I have everything I need.”

All of a sudden, Q can taste salt and phlegm. He swallows it, hoping his useless, mundane, selfish heartache isn’t audible.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose you do. Excuse me.”

On the way to the bar, Q downs his glass of champagne in one gulp and looks directly into the sun. When Moneypenny asks if he’s all right, he pretends that’s why his eyes are watering.

[escorpionesblog]

BLINDING LIGHTS- THE WEEKEND

"Blinding Lights" is a song by the famous Canadian singer-songwriter The Weeknd, released in November 2019. Since its debut, the song has captured the attention of millions of listeners around the world, becoming one of The Weeknd's greatest hits to date. In this blog, we will explore the highlights of "Blinding Lights" and analyze why it has resonated so much with the public.

The retro style:

One of the key reasons for the success of "Blinding Lights" is its captivating retro style. The song incorporates elements of the music of the 80s, with catchy synthesizers and energetic rhythms that evoke the nostalgia of that time. This combination of the old and the new has generated an irresistible appeal for listeners of all ages.

Addictive lyrics and melody:

It causes me a bit of melancholy in its first part and then it is a song that has a good rhythm and makes me sing it because it has energy in its music. The lyrics speak of a passionate and addictive love, while the catchy melody quickly adheres to the mind of the listener. In the song's lyrics, metaphor is used to compare love or emotional connection to a dazzling light. For example, in the phrase "I'm blinded by lights," the metaphor of being blinded by lights is used to convey the intensity of the emotional connection.

Worldwide reception:

"Blinding Lights" has been an international success, reaching the top of the charts in many countries. The song is very well received due to its good production. In addition, it has been used in several commercials and television programs, which has further contributed to its popularity. I remember listening to it many times when I was about to finish my college stage, it was very popular. in Facebook story

Impact:

The popularity of "Blinding Lights" has also spilled over into popular culture as it features disco musical snippets. The song has been extensively covered and remixed by other artists, and its distinctive sound has influenced many up-and-coming musicians. The impact has been such that I have seen how people of all ages like their rhythm

Conclusion:

"Blinding Lights" by The Weeknd is a song that has been very successful since its slightly old mix with electronic sounds have captivated today's society. Its retro style, addictive lyrics, . Without a doubt, this song will continue to be remembered as one of The Weeknd's greatest achievements.

[arainmorn-art]

A path of self-destruction

So I’ve seen that 14th March is Write Your Story day. Sounds neat, though I have no ideas for fiction to write about right now. But I have a personal story. I wanted to write about it for quite some time, because for some weird reason I feel more comfortable writing about some psychological stuff in English. It seems easier - and safer. Here might be no people that know me personally. And with a small audience it also feels... like I am in a small circle of silent respectful strangers, telling my story without a chilling fear of being interrupted or shunned. Or being avoided. 

People don’t like sad body horror stories. 

It’s an act of self-preservation for sure, our mind tries to protect us from horrible things, as it tries to be a protective parent guarding its kid. I understand it. It’s not like I tell the whole story to everyone, firstly it would take a long time, secondly - I don’t like making people upset. If people around me, who like me, are getting upset only by mentioning a miniscule part of stuff, why should I force them to listen the rest?

But sometimes... I need to tell it. 

Heh. And how should I begin?

“There once was a girl with a loving family. She had both parents, a mother and a father. But strangely the girl was growing up strongly relating to fatherless kids her age. She was growing up waiting for her father’s death”

An intriguing kind of start, I hope. 

The thing is it’s quite hard for me to tell you about only this part of my forming years, because right after high school there were also several traumatic circumstances I lived with, and stories about my dad and the coup, and the civil war, and severe trust issues, and loosing a feel of basic safety, and a crushing feeling of being a hated outsider in my own country are heavily intertwined. But... I doubt my writing abilities to tell you everything in one post. Maybe next time. I’ll mention those situations briefly, just keep in mind that... well, it was all happening at the same time.

So.

“She was a shy girl, whimsy and timid, a kind that usually becomes some sort of an artist. Five years might be not the best age to learn about death, but this realization came to her quite early. We all gonna die, she realizied, and nothing will stop it. She cried and ran to the kitchen to her mom, looking for comfort, but mom couldn’t say anything to console her. “It happens in many years!”, she tried to tell her crying daughter. She wasn’t expecting this conversation so soon”

I don’t know how others get this awarness of their own mortality. I simply haven’t asked, actually. I got mine after watching Conan the Barbarian and The Fifth Element movies. Oh, and add Princess Mononoke to this soup. And many 80s and 90s scince fiction and action movies, that were by far not kid-friendly! Yeah... my mom admits she and my dad were stupid to show me these movies before elementary school, but now I can tell young gen-Ziers that in my time we were much tougher kids!.. Well, come on, don’t give away all the credits to Don Bluth, a Grand Child Traumatizer, an old Total Recall was a blast! :D 

My mom also thinks that there were too many familiar people who died through my forming years, both relatives and friends. I don’t know, maybe she is right. My grandpa was buried at the day of my 14th birthday, a year before two family friends died, a year after there were grand-grandma and three family friends, and many more...

14 years old. Yeah. I remember, it was a first time when I thought: “My dad will probably die because of a stroke. His face gets so red when he is screaming in anger”. 2008 year, hello, House M.D., teaching me new words.    

“A girl was told by her dad that she had a happy childhood, a roof above her head, a food on her table and some money. Often told. Constantly told. It was true, but was there a need to repeat it? He needed to. He also told her he can clearly see she doesn’t value anything he gave her. That she doesn’t respect him. He demanded love. He believed there were all the ingredients for happiness. He was telling it but he rarely talked to her. They lived in one appartment yet she felt they were a little closer than strangers”

My dad was a complicated man to say the least. He was a large man with a strong physique, a wide chest yet narrow shoulders. His features were rounded: a round face, a big nose, plump lips, bushy eyebrows, even his black beard was making him feel rounder. My whole childhood I was told I was a female copy of him. He was a man leaving a grand impression about him, a succesful man, loved by his friends, relatives and wife... and strangely enough he was also an absent father.

 For some reason I still can vividly remember his dark yellow teeth, black on the edges, and a brown tongue behind them. He drank a very strong black tea, 2 to 4 teabags at the same time in a large cup. The stains after such tea was impossible to wash away. Oh, and I just have to mention the amount of smoking he had. Pack after pack. Some fathers quit smoking when they get kids. My father was smoking even when I, being an infant, was sleeping near him in my mom’s embrace. I never smoked myself. Never ever. 

The smell of cigarettes was everywhere. It was on the furniture, on my clothing, on my hair. The smell was so strong sometimes my teachers in school were asking if somebody recently smoked, although I was a whole day away from home. The smoke turned wallpapers in my dad’s room yellow; a lamp, a table, a computer and bookshelves had a very distinct greasy feel about them because of resin and dust. Maybe only whiskey and vodka bottles were cleaner. They were changing often.

My mom was worried about him. She called it “a path of self-destruction”.

And he still had a leg in those years.

It was 2011, I was still 16, soon turning 17, when I heard about the second type diabetes. I didn’t understand how it workes, but the most shocking news were: “They are going to amputate your father’s big toe”. Oh man, it’s so silly now how scared I was. 

It’s just a toe. 

What’s weird to me to remember that from this and several years later I was fixated on the topic of amputation. It was a repeating theme in my sketches... though it weren’t legs. It were hands. A crying mermaid with amputated hands. A cheerful alien with stumps instead of her arms, with clunky prosthesises made of thin metal tubes. A monster bleeding out with a chopped arm. Zombies falling apart. Decaying robots. A blood. A torn skin. Scars. Bare bones. And crying. Lots of crying characters. It was my weird way of coping. 

So the doctors kept slicing his foot until there were no toes on it.

I thought he was powerful. I thought he could hurt me, though not physically. He never beated me, no. Though I was so stressed I believed my scared mom, that he could kicked us out of the house. 

Bones in my dad’s foot were destructing, because he was refusing to change his lifestyle, even at cost of his own health.

I was 19. It still is a gentle age for a girl. I needed a feeling of safety... and yes, I had it at home. While also being afraid of my dad’s rage, if he knew about my sexuality.

Even if he was already in a wheelchair without a leg. 

And then the coup in 2014 happened. I lived several districts away from it. For me it was one of the most traumatising events. It was brutal. I was afraid I could be killed just while walking with my dog. The world I’ve lived before was burning alive in front of my eyes. People were drunk of inpunishability. A feeling of safety was lost for many years. 

The only thing in her terrified words might be true that he could turn our lives into emotional torture. Oh, he was very good at making you feel like a trash. Like the lowest of the low. Like a pathetic piece of a garbage.

 My father was afraid of death and uncertainty. Numbing himself with alcohol he was able to push through those fears and take care of me and my mom. The truth is... he was a weak man, too. Instead of trying to discipline himself so diabetes would stop devouring his body, the bloodvessels in his brain, his eyes, his legs, his kidneys, my father just... stayed on the path of self-destruction.

No cries would convince him to change so he could stay longer with his loving family.

No foul wound would stop him.

I was 21. I remember that night, when he returned from the hospital. He seriously was at the death’s door. Before his return I’ve cried for several hours feeling guilt that I was angry at him, being horrified that I might loose him. When he returned, I thought about all the inspirational movies I’ve watched, you know, that kind: “After near death experience our protagonist will find a will power to change his life!”. I loved such kind of movies. 

I wanted them to be truth.

I’ve heard my mom starting to weep when she walked out of my dad’s room, yellow of nicotine. I walked into his room and saw him... smoking and pouring a glass. He wanted to relax. As if nothing has happened. As if me and my mom hadn’t cried our eyes out for him.

It was the first time I’ve screamed at him in rage. I was afraid of my dad for those last years, I was always meek and passive around him because he would easily suppres me. But I was enraged at that moment. How dare he smoke after everything. How dare he drink after what doctors told us: “You can start mourning”, because his kidneys were clearly failing. And he was surprised, of course. He started laughing at me. “Look at you! You can be like that?”. I remember his dark yellow teeth glistening in the light of a table lamp. He was laughing in self-defense.

“Hey, look at her!” - he called my mom, rolling his wheelchair to the bathroom door. He kept laughing, almost hysterically, as we both could clearly hear my mom hopelessly crying in the shower.

I felt so much disdain, and anger, and sadness, but most of all - the horror of understanding. Dad was still laughing. My outburst had no other way to leave my chest but to shout at the top of my lungs right in my father’s face: “I wish you would die already!”

He stopped laughing.

I ran to the kitchen and burst into tears sitting on the floor, as that new realization weakened my knees.

There was no hope.

It was not an inspirational movie. It was not a fairytale. It was not a story about taking control over your life and trying to save it. 

It was a story about unstoppable relentless self-destruction. No matter how many bones would crumble, how much flesh would be cut away, how further blind he would become.

It was despair. Soul-crushing despair. In the chaotic world after the coup, during the civil war, where it still felt safer beside my half-blind father with no leg on the wheelchair, than far from him... there were no hope that he would live long enough to even see me graduating from university.

About two more times he was also near death. Diabetes killed his kidneys.

“There once was a boy in a body of a big grown man. Both of his parents died of cancer. His lighthearted yet timid father faded away, turned into a skeleton covered with skin. His narcissistic mother, who looked like a giant jellyfish on her deathbed, died right after her son scolded her for tormenting a nurse. The boy was so lonely and sad no one around him could bring him comfort. Even the sight of sauce that his mother cooked him in the past could brought him into tears. It reminded him how harsh he was with her right before she died. He didn’t say goodbye. Or that he loved her”

I haven’t told my father a proper goodbye either.

I was abroad trying to date a girl that was clearly not a good match for me. I was looking for comfort and haven’t find any. My mother hasn’t told me anything before I returned home. She thought I was happy and didn’t wanted to ruin that trip for me. For several days she was forcing a smile for me during videocalls.

It was cerebral edema. He died at night, delirious and screaming, shouting us to run away, so the infamous nazi gang from my country wouldn’t catch us. She told me when I’ve returned home and at first I haven’t any words to say or any tears to cry.

The 6th January of 2017 was the date of his death.

He kept slowly dying over the next couple of years.

People were confused how I could be so stoic at the funeral. I don’t know myself. I just felt hollow. My mom though was falling apart, overventilating as she tried not to cry while seeing her husband in the coffin. She asked my cousin to slap her across the face so she would no lose consciousness - and yeap, it was me who slaped her, as my cousin was too shocked by such request. I felt that me being calm and stable helped my mom more than anything. I supported her. I gave her comfort. The world was crushing for her without him.

While I was thinking... that, strangely enough, my world continued to exist.

I’ve cried for my father’s death several times, but the death itself wasn’t happening. And when it finally happened, there were not many tears left. Though I still feel the ache in my heart for him. He was so lonely. He had such a big responsibility on his shoulders, he continued to work even in the hospital bed so he could provide us. He tried to protect us from the evil of the world around us even at his last moments.

I respect it tremendously, dad.

I’ve looked into my old drawings I have on my PC. My gosh. So many crying people. I haven’t realized before, how many tears were shed without actual tears, but through my artwork.

It’s such a pity we couldn’t became closer.

Eh.

It’s been six years.

I suppose I can say I’m no longer a person I used to be. I hope so. I was such a coward. 

It’s 3 am on my clock, I’ve been writing for five hours in one sit, gosh darn it. Perhaps I really needed it.    

And I feel better.

Despite everything happened between us, I still love you.

[jdgo51]

September 20, 2024

God’s Got This!

Heidi Efta (Florida, USA)

"Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."" - Hebrews 11:1 (NRSVUE)

"Five years ago, my husband of 26 years unexpectedly passed away. He was also the father of our three daughters and the primary wage-earner. Now when I think back on those dark days, I can see how I have been in God’s hands all along.

I prayed for my broken heart, and God gave me comfort. I prayed for guidance, and God led me to a job that would sustain me and give me purpose. I prayed for my girls, and God has led them along their own journeys. I prayed for help with having two mortgages on our family home, and God showed me how to eventually sell that house and move somewhere much more manageable. I continued to pray for direction, and God introduced me to the man who would later become my fiancé.

I do not need to doubt or fear any new hurdle. I’ve seen time and time again that God is in control. It’s easy to go back to worry when the path is unclear. But I know the Lord is with me every step I take. When I start to fret, I remind myself of what I’ve been through and take a deep breath. God’s got this!" Never have fear and never feel totally alone, God has this, whatever the upcoming situation may be. Trust His judgement and His unending care for you.

Today's Prayer

"Dear Heavenly Father, even if we don’t see the answers we are looking for, help us remember your promise never to leave or forsake us." Amen.

Hebrews 11:1-16

"1 Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. 2 The elders in the past were approved because they showed faith. 3 By faith we understand that the universe has been created by a word from God so that the visible came into existence from the invisible. 4 By faith Abel offered a better sacrifice to God than Cain, which showed that he was righteous, since God gave approval to him for his gift. Though he died, he’s still speaking through faith. 5 By faith Enoch was taken up so that he didn’t see death, and he wasn’t found because God took him up. He was given approval for having pleased God before he was taken up. 6 It’s impossible to please God without faith because the one who draws near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards people who try to find him. 7 By faith Noah responded with godly fear when he was warned about events he hadn’t seen yet. He built an ark to deliver his household. With his faith, he criticized the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes from faith. 8 By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was going to receive as an inheritance. He went out without knowing where he was going. 9 By faith he lived in the land he had been promised as a stranger. He lived in tents along with Isaac and Jacob, who were coheirs of the same promise. 10 He was looking forward to a city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God. 11 By faith even Sarah received the ability to have a child, though she herself was barren and past the age for having children, because she believed that the one who promised was faithful. 12 So descendants were born from one man (and he was as good as dead). They were as many as the number of the stars in the sky and as countless as the grains of sand on the seashore. 13 All of these people died in faith without receiving the promises, but they saw the promises from a distance and welcomed them. They confessed that they were strangers and immigrants on earth. 14 People who say this kind of thing make it clear that they are looking for a homeland. 15 If they had been thinking about the country that they had left, they would have had the opportunity to return to it. 16 But at this point in time, they are longing for a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God isn’t ashamed to be called their God—he has prepared a city for them." All things regarding God, require faith. Unwavering faith that carries you into and through all situations. God gives you strength, power and resolve to make things happen correctly. Bless you everyone! Joe

[the-almighty-gob-john-langley]

The Enemy Within.

The Enemy Within.

Be honest, the world is screwed, isn't it? Fings ain't what they used to be, and all that. If you've lived for any length of time and have witnessed how much the world has changed for the worse over the past twenty-four years, you'll catch my drift, as they say. As you will have no doubt noted from my previous blog post - 'Pussies Galore'- and those before it, I'm not over enamored with the millennials, and their progeny.

I guess, today I want to talk about the growing face of Islam on this planet as a first point, and then segue back into this new age of the millennial and offspring. As with most of my posts, I start off with the outline of an idea and then commence a journey of mystery, whereby, I haven't the faintest idea as to what the outcome will be. I just hit the keys and autopilot provides the context in whatever form it takes. Another way of putting it would be that a variety of news sources and public opinion provide each piece of a jigsaw puzzle I fit together in such a way that the finished item provides me with a satellite view of the world below.

Right now I see a planet in an equal amount of pieces as the puzzle before me that matches the picture on the surface, and it isn't in any way good for humanity. It reminds me of many years back when I was trying my hand at being a bus conductor in Aldershot for a few weeks. I say few weeks because 05.30 starts and me simply didn't get on during that part of my life. Anyway, they still don't, and what's more to the point is that my trainer was a guy named Keith; and this is something that's stuck with me like glue ever since, he said, because he was rather biblical at times, that there was a paragraph, I believe, within the Bible stating that an army would eventually rise powerful from the East and, I'm paraphrasing, seek to conquer the world.

Anyone who knows their Bible back to front may have far more knowledge than this particular lapsed Catholic tapping away here and now. However, being as far distanced from Catholicism as Bristol is from Bejing I'm more inclined to believe that in this instance, my own personal biblical scepticism is slowly igniting from its back burner position, and the global fan has started to spin, with particles of Islamic State shit flying around the world and landing in too many countries for me to be in any way comfortable with. Admittedly, in some minds I could have phrased that better, and am I therefore apologetic in any way? Absolutely bloody not!

To be absolutely clear, I have nothing against the Islamic religion per se. As with most world religions their believers are by nature good, decent people who work hard, are family-orientated, and believe in goodness and kindness to all in the name of their prophet, Allah. But, like fundamental Christians, some take their beliefs to the extreme. You see, religion in this century is like a bad photocopy. The further it is away from the original the harder it becomes to read, and is therefore open to some very distorted misinterpretations, of which, I suggest, the fast-growing Islamic faith has become far more radical than any other, in most certainly my time.

Like myself, you've more than likely noticed how the term 'invasion' has become increasingly frequent in our terminology when referring to migrants entering British shores. The 'illegals' who skirt normal border controls as seen at airports and ferry terminals and become unaccounted for - nearly all males with no documentation that would prove age or identity, and it doesn't take too much of a stretch to open our eyes further than England to see that the same is happening in most other countries of Europe, and beyond. Look, you know as well as I do that migration from one country to another is nothing new where humans are concerned, it's been going on since time immemorial. However what's happening currently could be described as wholly disproportionate, and with good reason. So, I get it when people use the word 'invasion'. I can understand when people become angry and frustrated because of the additional pressures put upon our infrastructures to a point that we can least afford, and this is where I believe the millennials and their progeny have a lot to answer for that the Blair government opened Pandora's Box to find.

It was under that governance Britain flung open its arms to all and sundry. "Britain is open" it was said, and that was it. Like January sale time they came in droves from abroad, and we welcomed those with skills and talents that would benefit our economy by settling here and raising families. Nothing wrong with that, you'd say, and I would agree. Well, to a point. Ask anyone who lived through the Second World War and survived, and you'd no doubt be told in no uncertain terms that Britain had a backbone then. It was a proud nation with people who fought for their country and won against the aggressor, and, as I've said in my book 'The Sexual Philanthropist' (published on Amazon, because there's nothing quite like a direct plug) people knew what hardship, and I mean 'real' hardship was. Ask those same people now, and you'll no doubt be told the same country that they were proud of has gone to the dogs, and from being a wealthy country that supported its people we have now become spineless; arguably one of the poorest, and no longer care.

We once had a military force made up of all the services. Admittedly previous wars have necessitated conscription, but look at us now, we could barely fight our way out of a paper bag if this country found itself at war with Russia, China, or the full force of the Islamic State that's more than likely our greatest threat and brings us slam, dunk, right back to illegal migration and the potential enemy within. Of course, it would be ludicrous to suggest that every illegal migrant that steps onto our beaches is an Islamic extremist, or has the potential to become one. Conversely, with no identification to show on their arrival, we have absolutely no idea as to who is entering this country, or what their real motivation is for doing so. Let's face it, any line can be spun when well rehearsed from where it originated, right? 

I'm sure we would all like to believe that even those who have entered legally, and settled with families, who drive taxis, work in our restaurants and takeaways, are university students, or lecturers, and engage in other lines of legitimate employment aren't sympathetic to the Islamic State? Don't believe me? Okay, look online for the propaganda videos where Islamic scholars speak between themselves and with other scholars in broadcast interviews as to how Islamic State infiltrates every aspect of both British and European nations alike.

Be my guest, and Google search the problems our European counterparts are experiencing with migration - the fights, looting, riots, sexual offenses, and other criminal activities that are taking place because of migrants choosing to ironically leave the hell holes of their own countries to replicate the same in the European countries they have moved to.

Again, I'm making it very clear that not all migrants are of the Moslem faith, as many are not. However, take to Google once more and you will find videos of Moslem groups, in some cases numbering hundreds, taking their prayers on the streets. Peaceful, law-abiding, and wishing no harm to anyone Muslims abide by the teachings of their prophet Allah in everyday life. Yet, take a look at Birmingham recently, where shopkeepers are being intimidated by fellow Moslems into removing bottles of Coke from their shelves because of the Gaza conflict, and tell me the lava isn't beginning to trickle out from the mouth of the Islamic State volcano. Further abroad, read reports of Islamic intervention in other countries, such as drones being flown into parts of Pakistan, aside from what's happening in the Middle East right now, and terrorist activities stopping goods from reaching other parts of the world by sea.

Meanwhile, back in our country, we have Millennials and their Gen X and Z progeny assuming in complete naivety and misguided optimism that somehow it will all stop if they either march through our streets - that in their blind innocence somehow delusionally believe that Hamas aren't jumping for joy by all the publicity they're being given, or that conflict can be abated by talking to their leaders. Get fucking real! 

These people are the same Islamic terrorists who, in parts of Africa think nothing of burning down Christian churches, massacring villages, raping and murdering women, recruiting men and children by force to become their soldiers, or face immediate death. Of course, we don't have to think about such things while we live in comfortable abodes, with central heating; a cushy lifestyle by comparison; watch Love Island and the soaps; take summer holidays, or attend Glastonbury.

As long as it's not on the news we don't much care unless we have a particular interest. In pretty much the same way the millennials and Gen progeny don't really care about the defense of this country. Yet, if only in voice alone they'll happily, and without a second thought given, defend a Middle Eastern country run by a terrorist regime - oblivious to the fact that the overarching Islamic State, of which Hamas is part, is slowly building a global army all over Europe, including here in the UK.

Like it, or not, we are on the cusp of a war that will see the slow build-up of terrorist activity over here that will make the Ariana Grande atrocity look like a practice run, and apart from the limited military and police resources we have, do you, or have you any idea what will happen? Well, let me tell you. All your pacifist-type tree huggers, millennials, and their progeny will either be hiding in their wardrobes with a thirty-six pack of their favourite loo roll or running out on the streets waving any white piece of material they have to hand because they all have a mental health issue, while the law-abiding, peace-loving Moslems most of us know will be found dead. Never say never.

[westeroswisdom]

Bella Ramsey's portrayal of Lyanna Mormont, blunt in a refreshing way, is not far off from the actor's IRL persona.

Here's part of an article featuring them by The Independent's Louis Chilton. I thought the section on neurodivergence was especially interesting

"I want to play a villain. A real dark, evil, nasty human being. Someone like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs,” says Bella Ramsey in a voice as sweet as piped icing. The ambition may seem incongruous emerging from the mouth of the 20-year-old British actor, but they’ve got the range, I don’t doubt. [ ... ] Ramsey has a truly great face: moonish and dark-eyed, somehow both shrewd and unguarded at once, yet unmistakably young-seeming. They’ve already been knocking around the industry for more than six years, since first being cast in Game of Thrones as the spiky Lyanna Mormont. As a child on set, Ramsey was precocious. “Being a kid actor, I didn’t like the separation,” they say. “The thing I hated the most was being patronised. I didn’t like the fact that I could only be on set for a certain amount of time, and had to go and do tutoring. I get why the hours protections for child actors are phenomenally important – but I hated feeling like I was lesser or separate from the adult cast.” They explain that they always “got along better” with adults as a child. (They left school at 12, taking online classes and being tutored instead.) “I wasn’t intimidated by going onto a set with a load of people twice, three times my age,” Ramsey says. “As I’ve grown up, I’ve learnt that I have autonomy to stand up for myself and for other younger people that I work with now. I want to enable them to advocate for themselves in the way that people older than me taught me to advocate for myself!” A relevant factor in all this: Ramsey is neurodivergent. (It’s common for neurodivergent children to relate more to adults than their peers.) For Ramsey, it’s something of a two-way street. Firstly, they say, the rigour and structure of a film shoot is “incredibly beneficial for my brain”. This extends to the catering, to knowing they will have the same breakfast each day. “This is exactly what I need, to not really have to make many decisions,” Ramsey explains. “When I’m on set I really thrive. When I leave sets, especially when I’ve been in that bubble for so long… it’s quite an intense pressure, which can be scary.” But Ramsey says the way their mind works has proved just as advantageous for their acting craft. “I wouldn’t be an actor if it wasn’t for my neurodivergence,” they say. “It’s just a part of me and it’s incredibly helpful in terms of acting. One of my things is that I have insane levels of visual perception compared to all the other things. I’ve been watching people and absorbing everything since I was really young… all these characters that I play, there’s an element of them that’s already inside me because I’ve seen someone be that before.”

By coincidence, Bella Ramsey was one of eight people in the arts featured in a New York Times article by Maya Salam a few days ago called The Breakout Stars of 2023.

“The Last of Us,” HBO’s stunningly heartfelt zombie apocalypse thriller. Given that its source material was a beloved, acclaimed 2013 video game that has sold over 20 million copies, the bar was extraordinarily high. The show’s debut season delivered, in large part because of the synergy between the duo at its center: Pedro Pascal as Joel and Bella Ramsey as Ellie, two characters who find themselves on a cross-country quest, dodging reanimated corpses to (hopefully) save the world. Ramsey, 20, who was born and raised in central England, offered a layered, tenacious, haunting performance as a teenager who is coming-of-age while being humanity’s possible last hope. They have been a working actor since they signed on to “Game of Thrones” at age 11, as the scene-stealing giant slayer Lyanna Mormont, and went on to have celebrated turns in the BBC/HBO adaptation of “His Dark Materials” and Lena Dunham’s 2022 period comedy, “Catherine Called Birdy.” For “The Last of Us,” Ramsey nailed a specific combination of contradictions — funny and quirky, but violent and rough — that Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann, its creators, were looking for. “There are few people better between the words ‘action’ and ‘cut,’” Mazin told The New York Times. Ramsey’s performance earned them an Emmy nomination, for outstanding lead actress in a drama, joining the likes of established stars such as Keri Russell and Elisabeth Moss. “It’s only recently that I’ve accepted I am Ellie, and I can do it, and I am a good actor,” Ramsey told us.

[casbookproject]

Perspectives

provide three (3) quotes that provide you, the reader, an insight into the event itself.

"One thing is certain. The American progress which all good citizens seek, such as old-age security, houses for veterans, child assistance, and a host of others, is being deployed as window dressing by the Communists to conceal their true aims and entrap gullible followers.… The numerical strength of the party’s enrolled membership is insignificant… for every party member there are ten others ready, willing, and able to do the party’s work.… There is no doubt as to where a real Communist’s loyalty rests. Their allegiance is to Russia."(pg. 34)

This is a famous speech from 1947 by FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover that perfectly sums up the United States government's view of communism and the public reasons that they give for their attacks of foreign nations.

"How is it possible to be disinterested about colonialism? For us, colonialism is not something far and distant. We have known it in all its ruthlessness. We have seen the immense human wastage it causes, the poverty it causes, and the heritage it leaves behind when, eventually and reluctantly, it is driven out by the inevitable march of history. My people, and the peoples of many nations of Asia and Africa, know these things, for we have experienced them.… Yes, some parts of our nations are not yet free. That is why all of us cannot yet feel that journey’s end has been reached. No people can feel themselves free, so long as part of their motherland is unfree. Like peace, freedom is indivisible. There is no such thing as being half free, as there is no such thing as being half alive.…" "Almost everyone in the room knew exactly what he meant. The people in the room that day would spend the rest of their lives describing the energy he had summoned in the crowd. He went on:" "And, I beg of you, do not think of colonialism only in the classic form which we of Indonesia, and our brothers in different parts of Asia and Africa, knew. Colonialism has also its modern dress, in the form of economic control, intellectual control, actual physical control by a small but alien community within a nation. It is a skillful and determined enemy, and it appears in many guises. It does not give up its loot easily. Wherever, whenever, and however it appears, colonialism is an evil thing, and one which must be eradicated from the earth"(Sukarno pg. 78-79)

This was a speech(and small section from the author) given by the president of Indonesia, Sukarno, in 1955 at the first ever Konferensi Asia-Afrika. This was what solidified the third world as an independent group from the rest of the world dedicated to the destruction of colonialism in all its forms. It was the result of concerted efforts by a few of the world’s new leaders. In 1954, Indonesia got together with Burma (Myanmar), Ceylon (Sri Lanka), Pakistan, and India. They formed the Colombo Group, named after the Sri Lankan capital, where they met, and began planning a bigger meeting. The invitation list grew rapidly and china was invited (this necessarily excluded Taiwan), while apartheid South Africa and both Koreas (technically still at war) as well as Israel (whose presence might have upset Arab nations) weren’t invited. The people who came together at the Bandung AfroAsian Conference represented about half the United Nations, and 1.5 billion of the world’s 2.8 billion people. Despite it being the main purpose of the conference not every nation in attendance was free. This speech explains how despite being gone on paper colonialism was still very active(it still is today) in "free" nations. It says how important of an issue colonialism is and defines what all of the countries that the US overthrew wanted and what third world countries today are still trying to do.

"As far as we know, this was at least the third time in history that US officials had supplied lists of communists and alleged communists to allies, so that they could round them up and kill them. The first was in Guatemala in 1954, the second was in Iraq in 1963, and now, on a much larger scale, was Indonesia 1965". (pg. 185)

it was third the time by just the 1960's that the CIA gave a list to another nation of people it wanted to be slaughtered. I feel that this gives some level of context to the continued amorality of the CIA.