#civil war agere

[littlestsheriff]

cg joel (civil war) headcannons

• totally a cool dad type

• loves listening old musics (especially rock) with jessie

• can't say no for puppy eyes (jessie has him on her hand)

• can be pretty strict too, but in a lovely way

• super silly !! loves making fun

• loves to explore outside with jessie, like an adventurer

• just like jessie, he loves animals and the nature

• spoils his little one too much (sometimes to annoy lee)

• avoid smoking when Jessie is regressed

• has the best arsenal of cartoon dvds

• always tuck jessie in bed when she's regressed

• gives a lot of sweets to jessie (especially chocolate)

• super sweet and comprehensive with his girl

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Joel from Civil War

Is a caregiver!

[unicornsaures]

Intro!!

my strawpage

Sfw agere/petre blog

SAW blog

Amrev oc rp blog

Hyperfixation-specific blog

🤍Im Doli![She/He]

🤍Im a minor

🤍This is my main/AmRev blog ^_^

🤍^Dont let that fool you, i post about my current hyperfixations(MCR & House MD) a LOT

history interests!:

🤍The american revolution

🤍John Laurens, DuPonceau, Francis Kinloch, Richard Kidder Meade

🤍18th century correspondence

🤍Washingtons aide de camps

🤍American civil war

other interests!:

⭐️💗House MD

⭐️💗MCR

⭐️Psychology behind disturbing actions(cannibalism, murder, etc.)

⭐️My OCs

🤍Saw

🤍Art and writing

🤍The Outsiders

🤍Star v. the forces of evil, trolls, mlp, south park, etc

🤍Creepypasta

🤍Music

🤍Rocky horror picture show

🤍Breaking Bad

❤️No DNI, just have common human decency and dont be a creep

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Wanna see my insanity on other platforms?:

AO3

Instagram

Spotify

Twitter

general tags v

[cozzzynook]

I just learned there’s zero agere (age regression/non-sexual age play) fics in this fandom (on AO3 at least) and I am devastated

No pressure on writing it since I don’t know how familiar you are with it but please allow me to rant a bit

Non-sexual age play as a coping mechanism for a fandom where mechs are constantly built for/into war??? Now that the war is over, what better way to deal with the trauma than living the sparkling hood you never got/was forced to grow out of too quickly.

MTOs in IDW literally mentioned how as the war escalated it became a 3 step process from thawed to field-ready, they deserve to slow down and process and learn with child like curiosity and learn something insignificant like rocks and not the fastest way to assemble a blaster and aim.

Cybertronians are a race known for slow building relationships and trust, any kind of relationship is rare. IDW mentioned that you have to eliminate someone as a Conjunx before becoming Amica, so any and all relationship has a sort of expectation/testing to it. So to trust someone enough to regress? To trust your environment enough to regress? To have a relationship where there’s no expectations for something more?

Please!

Anyways sorry for the lengthy rant, I hope you have a nice day!

I love this idea and feel free to ask me to this for a certain pair if you’d like. If I can i’ll try my best to and if not i’ll let you know.

I see Tarn needing this the most and i love the idea of him getting this care from Rodimus who knows he can’t beat the mech in a fight but he can best him.

And he bests Tarn by holding the mech in his arms and cooing at him, rocking him in his lap despite the large size difference and lets the mech hug him and cry.

Tarn comes back often.

It terrifies the pit out of the crew but he doesn’t kill them and he only glares pointing his gun in Drifts face until Rodimus tells him no, bad mech and Tarn glares at Drift lowering the gun and follows Rodimus out to his hab.

They know the two aren’t sleeping together but they have no idea what Rodimus does to get the mech stable and more…civil?

Rodimus finally admits he babies Tarn and treats him like a sparkling but only to a select few who try it out on other members of the crew without leading it to Rodimus and Tarn and suddenly the lost light has a crew thats more relaxed and emotionally stable.

[hoperays-song]

Revamped Plot of Out of This World

This is a version of the musical that I think would fit the qualifications for an original Broadway style musical. There are 17 original songs.

Here's the base plot of the revamped version of Out of This World in my fic (might change a bit but the main ideas should stay the same). It's focused on duality in the stories and the planets themselves (war=love, joy=war, love=despair, despair=joy):

In order to stop the new idealist Captain Lucia from sniffing around their organization, higher ups at Central Union Space Exploration and Research Center send her and her second in command Sten on a suicide mission: to recover a long thought dead explorer from a solar system that is being pulled into a black hole. Since the exact coordinates were scrambled, the two set out to search every planet for the Surveyor. However, they stumble across people who need their help escaping certain death. 

On the planet of Ager, two kingdoms are locked in a fierce struggle to insure that only their people survive after centuries of civil war. The two princes of the kingdoms have other plans however, as they have started to fall in love with the other from afar after all these years of fighting. When they are promoted to king with the deaths of the current rulers, Fallon and Achlys declare the war over and promise to unite their kingdoms in peace, finally allowing Lucia and Sten to help their people to safety. Fallon and Achlys join Lucia and Sten on their mission for the good of their people and to repay the duo for their kindness.

On the planet of Hyapp, the only surviving member of a single species remains behind, terrified and depressed at being the last one standing after the deaths of their people. The survivor, Nova, blames herself for her peoples death and has set to living in misery, running from their enemies for the rest of their life. It takes Lucia and Sten talking with her as Fallon and Achlys protect them to convince her to live her life for herself and that it’s okay to be happy again. Nova decides to go with the group on their mission.

On the planet Levo, the people have all escaped already except for one. The young lover Thana mourns the death of her partner Duane and refuses to leave the planet in fear of leaving them. The spirit of Duane however is begging their love to leave so that one of them can live to see the next day. Eventually, Duane manages to get through to Thana enough for the group to convince her to leave, with the lovers sharing one final goodbye. Thana decides to stick close to the group out of missing her partner.

The final planet Ispedar is a cold and desolate wasteland when the group arrives. However, finally the sprite Lux (who’s been appearing in the background for quite a while, almost seeming to lead Lucia and Sten to the others) makes herself known to the group and leads them to where the Surveyor Akuji is hiding out. To the group’s surprise however, Akuji doesn’t want to be saved and says he’ll be killed if he goes back to the center. When Lucia potests this however, Akuji askes her why she was sent on a obvious suicide mission if she was right about the center caring about them. He then casts them out into the wasteland, stopping Lux from helping them. 

The group fights about whether or not they should try to rescue Akuji and Lux if they seemed to not want to and whether or not the center was actually evil, leading to internal conflict between the survivors. It’s only when the group faces essentially certain death does Akuji turn up to save them, having been convinced by Lux to help them and to be the kind of mentor he wished he had. Finally, the group, now accompanied by Akuji and Lux, leave, headed towards somewhere where the refugees will be safe.

List of Characters + Actors

Captain Lucia - Rosita Perez-Harrison

Second-In-Command Sten - Gunter Hoffman

Prince Fallon of Cahir - Ryan Willis

Prince Achlys of Deianira - Johnny Taylor

Nova of Sol 2 - Porsha Crystal

Ghost of Duane - Finnley Marks (OC)

Thana the Mourner - Meena Amari

Surveyor Akuji - Clay Calloway

Lux the Spirit - Ash Batalla

Narrator - Buster Moon

[fruityyamenrunner]

Jimmy Savile is an anachronistic example of the product of the pre-war Youth Culture. His dates being 1926 to 2011, he was too young to be a pioneering character in the full paramilitary Baden-Powell, Kibbo-Kift shit, but also too old to be suitably bewitched into being a Teen-Ager. This liminal position in the chronology put him in the position of being a freak mutant of the previous Youth Culture dispensation, having no place in the world, but with sufficient grooming to render him ready to seed the next one

The "take up marathon running to turn your thoughts away from filth" is very First Youth Culture, as is wanting more than anything medals and lunch with the Queen. Trying to overcome his sickly childhood constitution with wrestling, likewise, as are his tragic origin story of being smothered by his mother and his other tragic origin story of being crippled by a mining accident during his conscription (note: not military, but civil conscription, a dislocation from the Youth Culture ideal). His Christianity had a very Muscular quality to it, too.

This partly accounts for one of the mysteries of his career to anyone thoroughly steeped in post-War ideas of Youth Culture -- what the fuck was his Youth Appeal supposed to be?

People of his cohort and older recognised him as a Youth Culture leader, but one who was involved in something New, and therefore esteemed and promoted him. The members of Teen-Age Youth Culture knew he was a dirty old man, but one who they were nevertheless obliged to be programmed by.

The people who had any fond attachment to the Youth Culture died shortly before Savile himself did, and those people who were enchanted in the Teen-Age Youth Culture he was a constitutive element of were reaching retirement.

This left him secure almost to the end. Once he died, his whole life was amenable to a less enchanted analysis, because the authorities were all, or increasingly, persons who came of age in the 80s (Mikkagroyper's "Britpoppers") with no attachments to either the original or the Teen-Age Youth Culture.

[lexluvswriting]

MIFFY'S ADVENTURES: BIG & SMALL... 🌫

Rules regarding my writing! 🩶

↳ These will mainly regard requests, kinks for NSFW themes + general information.

☆ my asks are always open for requests, but pls feel free to message me!! will negotiate certain kinks (dub-con, cnc).

☆ i’ll only interact with people who have their age in their bio.

☆ If i am not able, i will not write certain requests. i will block users for my mental health. This is supposed to be a safe space.

☆ will write: male/female/gender neutral characters. fem!/gender neutral! readers. dark content/smut/mature/angst/fluff/no comfort. will write certain dark kinks (dubcon, somno, primal, consensual noncon)!

↳ dark NSFW fics will be marked! dni if you are not interested in them <3

☆ won’t write: extreme gore. no bodily fluid that isn’t spit or cum. suicide. agere, incest, stepcest, noncon.

General blog rules & disclaimers! 🩶

↳ i don't mind a bit of constructive advice and helpful criticism, but blatant mockery/bullying/harrassment is never okay!

☆ dni: blank blogs, ageless blogs, homo/trans/xeno/fat-phobes, harassers, pro shippers, anti shippers, people that send anon hate.

↳ if ur gonna degrade me like that, take me out first & do it w CHEST /j.

☆ please be civil: my blog is a safe space for art to be shared and published legitimately, but i will not tolerate ship wars, fandom politics, discrimination or hate-speech of any kind, as well as slander of myself or others on this site.

☆ i'd also like to acknowledge that there are authors who have proved to be quite problematic, as well as other content creators of various popular shows/movies. I do not agree with, nor stand by their harmful and problematic values. I'd like to think that when I write my fanfics using these borrowed characters, I write without the negative, harmful baggage from their creators.

If these terms feel too difficult to go by, please feel free to D.N.I my blog.

I only want to have fun enjoying the art of others, and enjoy creating my own.

Thank you for reading this far, enjoy my blog! 🩶

MIFFY'S ADVENTURES: BIG & SMALL... 🌫

[denimbex1986]

'...All of Us Strangers

26 January

Britain's great cinematic translator of the modern queer experience, Andrew Haigh (Weekend, 45 Years, the TV show Longing) returns with a Rizla-paper-delicate rumination on gay loneliness, love, and how grief lingers like a spectre in the corner of the room.

It's part ghost story, part nocturnal romance, part late-stage coming-of-ager. Andrew Scott stars as Adam, a depressed screenwriter working on a new script inspired by the death of his parents. For research, he visits his childhood home on the outskirts of London, only to find his mum and dad — Claire Foy and Jamie Bell, respectively — are seemingly alive and well, looking exactly as they did thirty years ago. Meanwhile, a steamy tryst blossoms with a stranger (Paul Mescal) in Adam's empty apartment complex.

It's stirring, and achingly felt. One of those movies to not see with your dad (or anyone else who you're embarrassed to watch unflinching gay sex scenes with, or endlessly cry in front of). And it's sure to stand as one of the best of the year. You can watch All of Us Strangers on Disney+ from 20 March...'

[world-love-government]

*****

The whole idea that the Earth is about to enter its "next evolutionary level" is rooted in Victorian-age eugenics.

All the more reason to redefine it if this is what you believe. In my view you serve to take away power in discourse and politics to any and all identities by entirely negating a concept of entering a "next evolutionary level". Is there something about this thats not the inherent nature of politics and society to begin with? These are ideas and concepts that naturally occur in society with, or without your help; thus it's better to recognize them and claim authority or control over them instead of leaving them to hegemonic power interests such as white supremacy.

The idea that people who accept New Age beliefs are having their DNA "upgraded" is fundamentally eugenicist.

On the flip side this logic serves to attack development of the human race in areas like genetic therapy that could help you in areas like medicine and health. But I suppose under your logic, all "DNA upgrades", have the aims of eugenics. Is curing cancer eugenics?

The idea that starseeds are traveling to Earth to spread spiritual truth is a narrative inspired by the idea of white man's burden and the belief that sending missionaries to convert Indigenous people to Christianity is a good thing. (It's not; it's racist and genocidal.)

You know what I think, as a plain truth, most races and people want to explore the universe and have a spaceship. I think most people would enjoy being in a "star wars universe". Once again, you are the one ascribing these concepts like "the white mans burden" to the concept of "saving/ascending the human race/earth", something thats meant to be a discourse for the entire human race, not the responsibility of any one race. If you don't want it to be that way, don't just complain about it, that does nothing if you really care. Why not, or don't you think it does more to instead interact with it, "own it", so you can change it? Doesn't this do more in the fight against white supremacy? I choose to hedge my bets on that people enjoy the idea of exploring the universe, alien planets, and spaceships, in all diversity of it. You on the other hand must *insist* that any discourse or narrative about such a thing is white supremacy, hate, and not good for society. Arnt you supposed to be fighting against white supremacy and hate?

The idea that those who reject New Age beliefs will be "purged" is fundamentally a belief that genocide is a good thing.

Where are you getting this concept from, there's inherently a purging or genocide that must occur in New Age beliefs? I've investigated a number of New Age groups/movements. None of them indicate a plan/agenda to "purge" or "genocide" populations. This sounds like conspiracy theories I've read about (NWO/FEMA Concentration Camps, etc.) that tend to be espoused by right wing sources, ones that you're coincidentally citing.

New Agers are either ignorant or dishonest when they claim that ancient religions and holy texts support their beliefs. The information they cite is either fabricated, distorted, or taken out of context.

Sure, this is sort of a general thing that can happen for any arguement. This is really more of a technical point instead of proving to me that starseeds is white supremacy.

The ancient astronaut hypothesis is inherently racist, because its purpose is denying that ancient POC could have built anything on their own.

That doesn't make sense the whole idea of ancient astronauts affects the entire human race, it doesn't matter what your race/ethnicity is. Ancient aliens visited everyone. Ancient aliens tends towards these theories that aliens or extraterrestrials gave human beings instructions/guidance on how to develop civilization of society, whether youre white, brown, yellow, or black.

The New Age/starseed narrative is inherently antisemitic and has a large overlap with conspiracy theories QAnon believes in, including adrenochrome harvesting (a modern form of blood libel).

This is also poor logic. This is to say that because the starseed narrative has similarities/overlaps to another meme/concept outside of it opens up an entire window of potential interpretations. In the very same laws of logic, because starseeds resembles star wars, Jedi's and Sith Lords must exist. Just like the attempt to claim starseeds is a new version of "the white man's burden", this is another logic faulty arguement to associate starseeds with QAnon; therefore allowing claims of antisemitism. In observing the claims of QAnon I have never seen mention of starseeds. The entire validity and discourse of QAnon is worthy of its own criticism relative to technology and modern day society. This eagerness to label anything "antisemitic" at the cost of errors in logic must be given significant attention, as this indicates desperation of the enemy or opponent. Not only does it do harm to authentic claims of antisemitism, representing a perspective of covert white supremacy - it also once again inists and reinforces that starseeds *must be* antisemitic, this does nothing to negate antisemitism or subvert the discourse to remove it. Their perspective is to *just insist* its antisemetic and do nothing about it. What does that tell you? It certainly harms the laws of logic in arguementation, that is also something we should call attention to in recognizing and shutting down harmful antisemitic claims against the human race.

Hey folks, friendly reminder that:

The whole idea that the Earth is about to enter its "next evolutionary level" is rooted in Victorian-age eugenics.

The idea that people who accept New Age beliefs are having their DNA "upgraded" is fundamentally eugenicist.

The idea that starseeds are traveling to Earth to spread spiritual truth is a narrative inspired by the idea of white man's burden and the belief that sending missionaries to convert Indigenous people to Christianity is a good thing. (It's not; it's racist and genocidal.)

The idea that those who reject New Age beliefs will be "purged" is fundamentally a belief that genocide is a good thing.

New Agers are either ignorant or dishonest when they claim that ancient religions and holy texts support their beliefs. The information they cite is either fabricated, distorted, or taken out of context.

The ancient astronaut hypothesis is inherently racist, because its purpose is denying that ancient POC could have built anything on their own.

The New Age/starseed narrative is inherently antisemitic and has a large overlap with conspiracy theories QAnon believes in, including adrenochrome harvesting (a modern form of blood libel).

Please see my pinned post for more details.

[littlestsheriff]

joel (civil war) agere moodboard

[ur-fav-is-agere]

Jessie from Civil War

Is an age regressor!

[casbooks]

Books of 2023

Book 31 of 2023

Title: A Ranger Born: A Memoir of Combat and Valor From Korea to Vietnam Authors: Robert W. Black ISBN: 9780307414434 Tags: AC-47 Spooky, AH-1 Cobra, Airborne, B-52 Stratofortress, C-119 Flying Box Car, C-82 Packet, CHN China, CHN Mao Tse Tung, CHN PLA People's Liberation Army, CHN PLAGF People's Liberation Army Ground Force, CHN PVA People's Volunteer Army, CHN Yalu River, Cold War (1946-1991), French and Indian Wars, From LAPL, GBR BA British Army, GBR BA King's Shropshire Light Infantry, GBR Capt. John Smith (Explorer), GBR LCol Robert Rogers (Ranger), GBR United Kingdom, GER Berlin, GER Brandenburg Gate, GER East Berlin, GER Germany, GER West Berlin, Gliders, KOR Battle of Hill 299 Turkey Shoot (Korean War), KOR Battle of Hill 628 (Korean War), KOR Battle of Inchon (Korean War), KOR Battle of the Ch'ongch'on River (1950) (Korean War), KOR Chinese Spring Offensive / 5th Phase (1951) (Korean War), KOR DMZ Demilitarized Zone - 38th Parallel (Korean War), KOR GBR BA British Brigade (Korean War), KOR Hill 1010 (Korean War), KOR Hill 299 (Korean War), KOR Hill 628 (Korean War), KOR Korea, KOR Korean War (1950-1953), KOR Kunu-ri-Sunchon Road, KOR Line Idaho (Korean War), KOR Line Kansas (Korean War), KOR Line No Name (Korean War), KOR Operation Ripper (1951) (Korean War), KOR Pusan, KOR Pusan Perimeter (Korean War), KOR ROK 6th ID, KOR ROK Republic of Korea Army, KOR Sangczon, KOR Seoul, Kuomintang, O-1 Bird Dog, Office of Strategic Services (OSS), PRK North Korea, PRK Yalu River, Rangers, SGP Singapore, SGP Singapore - Newton Towers Hotel, SpecOps, Stalin, UN United Nations, US CIA Central Intelligence Agency, US FL Florida, US FL Florida - Miami, US FL University of Miami, US FL University of Miami - ROTC, US FL University of Miami - ROTC Princess Corps, US MSTS Military Sea Transportation Service, US MSTS USNS General W. F. Hase (T-AP-146), US President Harry S. Truman, US SDS Students for a Democratic Society, US Secretary of State Dean Acheson, US USA 10th Mountain Division, US USA 187th Airborne Regimental Combat Team, US USA 19th Infantry Regiment, US USA 19th Infantry Regiment - I&R Platoon, US USA 21st Infantry Regiment, US USA 24th ID, US USA 2nd ID, US USA 2nd Ranger Infantry Co (Airborne) - Buffalo Rangers (Segregated), US USA 313th Infantry Regiment, US USA 325th Airborne Infantry Regiment, US USA 35th Quartermaster (Pack) Co, US USA 39th Infantry Regiment, US USA 39th Infantry Regiment - G Co, US USA 39th Infantry Regiment (Mechanized), US USA 39th Infantry Regiment (Mechanized) - 1/39, US USA 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, US USA 50th Infantry Regiment, US USA 50th Infantry Regiment - E Co (LRP), US USA 5th Regimental Combat Team, US USA 6th Medium Tank Bn, US USA 6th Medium Tank Bn - C Co, US USA 79th ID, US USA 7th Army, US USA 7th ID, US USA 82nd Airborne Division - All American, US USA 8th Army Ranger Company (Airborne) / 8213th Army Unit, US USA 8th ID, US USA 8th ID - 3rd Brigade, US USA 8th Ranger Infantry Co (Airborne), US USA 9th ID, US USA 9th ID - 2nd Brigade, US USA 9th ID - 3rd Brigade, US USA Camp Carson CO, US USA Camp Hale CO, US USA Col Arthur "Bull" Simons, US USA Fort Benning GA, US USA Fort Benning GA - Harmony Church, US USA Fort Benning GA - Ranger Training Center, US USA Fort Dix NJ, US USA Fort Gordon GA, US USA Fort Gordon GA - Civil Affairs School, US USA Forth Benning GA - Victory Pond, US USA Forth Bragg NC, US USA General Douglas MacArthur, US USA General J. Lawton Collins, US USA General James Van Fleet, US USA General John K. Singlaub, US USA General Matthew Ridgway, US USA General Walton Walker, US USA LRRP Team (Vietnam War), US USA United States Army, US USMC 1st MarDiv, US USMC United States Marine Corps, US USN SEALS, US USN United States Navy, US USN USS General W. F. Hase (AP-146), US USN USS Pueblo (AGER 2), USAID, USAID John Paul Vann, VNM 1968 Tet Offensive (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM Battle of Dien Bien Phu (1954) (French Indochina War), VNM Ben Luc, VNM Can Duoc, VNM Can Giouc, VNM Cao Dai Religion, VNM CIA Air America (1950-1976) (Vietnam War), VNM Dien Bien Phu, VNM DRV Ho Chi Minh, VNM DRV NVA General Vo Nguyen Giap, VNM DRV NVA North Vietnamese Army, VNM DRV VC 265th Bn, VNM DRV VC 2nd Independent Bn, VNM DRV VC 506th Bn, VNM DRV VC COSVN Central Office for South Vietnam, VNM DRV VC K-3 Bn, VNM DRV VC Phu Loi Bn, VNM DRV VC Viet Cong, VNM DRV VM Viet Minh, VNM French Indochina War (1946-1954), VNM Gia Dinh, VNM Highway 4, VNM Ho Chi Minh Trail (Vietnam War), VNM Hoa Hao Religion, VNM IV Corps (Vietnam War), VNM Long An Province, VNM Me Ly, VNM Mekong Delta, VNM Operation Arc Light (1965-1973) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Ranch Hand (1962-1971) (Vietnam War), VNM Rach Kien, VNM RVN ARVN 25th ID, VNM RVN ARVN 47th Infantry Regiment, VNM RVN ARVN 7th ID, VNM RVN ARVN Army of the Republic of Vietnam, VNM RVN ARVN RF/PF 627 RF Co (Vietnam War), VNM RVN ARVN RF/PF Regional Forces/Popular Forces (Vietnam War), VNM RVN ARVN Vietnamese Rangers - Biet Dong Quan, VNM RVN Chieu Hoi Program/Force 66 - Luc Luong 66 (Vietnam War), VNM RVN Kit Carson Scouts (Vietnam War), VNM RVN RVNP Can Sat National Police, VNM RVN RVNP CSDB PRU Provincial Reconnaissance Units (Vietnam War), VNM RVN USA CRIP Combined Reconnaissance and Intelligence Platoon (Vietnam War), VNM RVN USA CRIP Long An Province (Vietnam War), VNM RVNP CSDB Can Sat Dac Biet Special Branch Police, VNM Saigon, VNM Song Vam Co Dong, VNM Tam An, VNM Tan Tru, VNM Trach An, VNM US Agent Orange (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV Advisory Teams (Vietnam War), VNM US MACV Military Assistance Command Vietnam (Vietnam War), VNM USA MRF Mobile Riverine Force (Vietnam War), VNM USN MRF Mobile Riverine Force (Vietnam War), VNM Vietnam, VNM Vietnam War (1955-1975), Waco Glider, WW2 1st Special Service Force (1942-1944) Rating: ★★★★ (4 Stars) Subject: Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Korean War.US.Rangers, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.ARVN, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.US Army.Advisor, Books.Military.20th-21st Century.SpecOps.US.Rangers

Description: Even as a boy growing up amid the green hills of rural Pennsylvania, Robert W. Black knew he was destined to become a Ranger. With their three-hundred-year history of peerless courage and independence of spirit, Rangers are a uniquely American brand of soldier, one foot in the military, one in the wilderness—and that is what fired Black’s imagination. In this searing, inspiring memoir, Black recounts how he devoted himself, body and soul, to his proud service as an elite U. S. Army Ranger in Korea and Vietnam—and what those years have taught him about himself, his country, and our future.Born at the start of the Great Depression, Black grew up on a farm at a time of great hardship but also tremendous national determination. He was a kid who toughened up fast, who learned the hard way to rely on his strength and his wits, who saw the country go to war with Germany and Japan and wept because he was too young to serve. As soon as the army would take him, Black enlisted. And as soon as he could muscle his way in, he became a Ranger.As a private first class in the 82d Airborne Division headquarters, Black withstood the humiliations of enlisted service in the peacetime brown-shoe army. When the Korean War began, he volunteered and trained to be an Airborne Ranger. In Korea, this young warrior, his mind and body bursting with the lusts of adolescence, grew up fast, literally in the line of fire. In clean, vivid prose, Black describes the hell of giving his all for a country that lacked the political resolve to give its all to a war against the North Koreans and the Chinese.If Korea was frustrating, Vietnam was maddening. The heart of this book is devoted to the years of action that Black saw in Long An Province starting in 1967. Black writes of the perplexity of collaborating with South Vietnamese officers whose culture and motives he never fully understood; he conjures up the sudden shock of the Tet Offensive and the daily horror of seeing fellow soldiers and innocent civilians slaughtered—sometimes by stray bullets, often by carelessness or treachery. Vietnam challenged everything Black had come to believe in and left him totally unprepared for the hostility he would face when he returned to a war-weary America. Written with extraordinary candor and passion, A Ranger Born is the memoir of a man who dedicated the best of his life to everything that is great and enduring about America. At once intimate in its revelations and universal in its themes, it is a book with profound relevance to our own troubled time in history. From the Hardcover edition

[anonil88]

This is a joke don't no stans come for me.

Team green:

Almond joy

Thin Crisps

Otto the homophobic sideline coach

Alikaren the repressed lesbian who should have just made out with her bestfriend

F 'n' F (Feet and Fire)

Allegations Aegon

Helaena the angel sadly stuck on team green and not in Pentos living in peace

Daeron "I'll be in season 2" Targaryen

Team Black:

Rhae Rhae the hot head cool mom ("not the favorite child" and the bestfriend)

Daemon the aggressive dad-ager to his neice/wife, stepson son-nephews, and daughter-cousins

Rhaenyra Jr aka Jacerys and his troupe of small untrained infant brothers -1

Corlys "Saturdays are for the boys" Sea Snake

Rhaenys the goat, who honestly would have done a way better job as Queen in making her sons "kids" legitimate

Angels in silence Baela (daemon jr.) And Rhaena (diet daemon)

Laenor "I went to get some milk" Velaryon

We got some kids, a couple dragons, and their chaperones going to a full blown Civil War. What a mess.

[kiridune]

On Hallowed Ground

Sat, Sep. 07, 2002 Miami Herald

By DAVE BARRY (http://davebarry.com/misccol/hallowedground.htm)

On a humid July day in Pennsylvania, hundreds of tourists, as millions have before them, are drifting among the simple gravestones and timeworn monuments of the national cemetery at Gettysburg.

Several thousand soldiers are buried here. A few graves are decorated with flowers, suggesting some of the dead have relatives who still come here. There's a sign at the entrance, reminding people that this is a cemetery. It says: "SILENCE AND RESPECT."

Most of the tourists are being reasonably respectful, for tourists, although many, apparently without noticing, walk on the graves, stand on the bones of the soldiers. Hardly anybody is silent. Perky tour guides are telling well-practiced stories and jokes; parents are yelling at children; children are yelling at each other. A tour group of maybe two dozen teen-agers are paying zero attention to anything but each other, flirting, laughing, wrapped in the happy self-absorbed obliviousness of Teen-agerLand.

A few yards away, gazing somberly toward the teen-agers, is a bust of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln gave his Gettysburg Address here 139 years ago, when the gentle rolling landscape, now green and manicured, was still raw and battle-scarred, the earth recently soaked with the blood of the 8,000 who died, and the tens of thousands more who were wounded, when two armies, 160,000 men, fought a terrible battle on July 1, 2 and 3 that determined the outcome of the Civil War.

Nobody planned for the battle to happen here. Neither army set out for Gettysburg. But this is where it happened. This is where, out of randomness, out of chance, a thousand variables conspired to bring the two mighty armies together. And so this quiet little town, because it happened to be here, became historic, significant, a symbol, its identity indelibly defined by this one overwhelming event. This is where these soldiers - soldiers from Minnesota, soldiers from Kentucky, soldiers who had never heard of Gettysburg before they came here to die - will lie forever.

This is hallowed ground.

On the same July day, a few hours' drive to the west, near the small Pennsylvania town of Shanksville, Wally Miller, coroner of Somerset County, Pa., walks slowly through the tall grass covering a quiet field, to a place near the edge, just before some woods.

This is the place where, on Sept. 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 93, scene of a desperate airborne battle pitting passengers and crew against terrorist hijackers, came hurtling out of the sky, turning upside down and slamming into the earth at more than 500 mph.

That horrendous event transformed this quiet field into a smoking, reeking hell, a nightmare landscape of jet fuel, burning plane debris, scattered human remains.

Now, 10 months later, the field is green again. Peaceful and green.

Except where Flight 93 plunged into the ground. That one place is still barren dirt. That one place has not healed.

"Interesting that the grass won't grow right here," says Miller.

Nobody on Flight 93 was heading for Somerset County that day. The 33 passengers and seven crew were heading from Newark, N.J., to San Francisco. The four hijackers had a different destination in mind, probably Washington, D.C., possibly the White House.

Nobody on the plane meant to come here.

"I doubt that any one of them would ever set foot in Somerset County, except maybe to stop at Howard Johnson's on the turnpike," Miller says. "They have no roots here."

But this is where they are. And this is where they will stay.

No bodies were recovered here, at least not as we normally think of bodies. In the cataclysmic violence of the crash, the people on Flight 93 literally disintegrated. Searchers found fragments of bones, small pieces of flesh, a hand. But no bodies.

In the grisly accounting of a jetliner crash, it comes down to pounds: The people on Flight 93 weighed a total of about 7,500 pounds. Miller supervised an intensive effort to gather their remains, some flung hundreds of yards. In the end, just 600 pounds of remains were collected; of these, 250 pounds could be identified by DNA testing and returned to the families of the passengers and crew.

Forty families, wanting to bury their loved ones. Two hundred fifty pounds of identifiable remains.

"There were people who were getting a skull cap and a tooth in the casket," Miller says. "That was their loved ones."

The rest of the remains, the vast majority, will stay here forever, in this ground.

"For all intents and purposes, they're buried here," Miller says. "This is a cemetery."

This is also hallowed ground.

In the Gettysburg Address, Lincoln was essentially trying to answer a question. The question was: How do you honor your heroes? Lincoln's answer was: You can't. No speech you give, no monument you erect, will be worthy of them, of their sacrifice. The best you can do is remember the cause they died for, finish the job they started.

Of course the passengers and crew on Flight 93, when they set out from Newark that morning, had no cause in common. They were people on a plane bound from Newark to San Francisco. Some were going home, some traveling on business, some on vacation.

People on a plane.

Which makes it all the more astonishing, what they did.

You've been on planes. Think how it feels, especially on a morning cross-country flight. You got up early; you're tired; you've been buckled in your seat for a couple of hours, with hours more to go. You're reading, or maybe dozing. You're essentially cargo: There's nowhere you can go, nothing you can do, no role you could possibly play in flying this huge, complex machine. You retreat into your passenger cocoon, passive, trusting your fate to the hands of others, confident that they'll get you down safe, because they always do.

Now imagine what that awful morning was like for the people on Flight 93. Imagine being ripped from your safe little cocoon, discovering that the plane was now controlled by killers, that your life was in their bloody hands. Imagine knowing that there was nobody to help you, except you, and the people, mostly strangers, around you.

Imagine that, and ask yourself: What would you do? Could you do anything? Could you overcome the fear clenching your stomach, the cold, paralyzing terror?

The people on Flight 93 did. With hijackers in control of the plane, with the captain and first officer most likely dead, the people on this plane got on their cell phones, and the plane's Airfones. They reached people on the ground, explained what was happening to them. They expressed their love. They said goodbye.

But they did not give up. As they were saying goodbye, they were gathering information. They learned about the World Trade Center towers. They understood that Flight 93 was on a suicide mission. They figured out what their options were.

Then they organized.

Then they fought back.

In "Among the Heroes," a riveting book about Flight 93, New York Times reporter Jere Longman reports many of the last words spoken to loved ones on the ground by people on the plane. They're not the words of people in shock, people resigned to whatever fate awaits them. They're the words of people planning an attack. Fighters.

Here, for example, are the last words of passenger Honor Elizabeth Wainio to her stepmother: "They're getting ready to break into the cockpit. I have to go. I love you. Goodbye."

Here are flight attendant Sandy Bradshaw's last words to her husband: "We're going to throw water on them and try to take the airplane back over. Phil, everyone's running to first class. I've got to go. Bye."

And of course there are the now-famous words of Todd Beamer, who, after explaining the situation on the plane to an Airfone supervisor in Illinois, turned to somebody near him and said: "You ready? OK, let's roll."

They're getting ready to break into the cockpit.

I've got to go.

Let's roll.

We'll never know exactly what happened next. Some believe that the fighters managed to get into the cockpit, and that, in the ensuing struggle for control, the plane went down. Others believe that the hijackers, trying to knock the fighters off their feet, flew the plane erratically, and in doing so lost control. Inevitably, there is Internet-fueled speculation that the plane was secretly shot down by the U.S. government. (The government denies this.)

But whatever happened, we know two things for sure:

We know that the plane went down before it reached its target - that the hijackers failed to strike a national symbol, a populated area. They failed.

And we know that the people on the plane fought back. On a random day, on a random flight, they found themselves - unwarned, unprepared, unarmed - on the front lines of a vicious new kind of war. And somehow, in the few confusing and terrifying minutes they had, they transformed themselves from people on a plane into soldiers, and they fought back. And that made them heroes, immediately and forever, to a wounded, angry nation, a nation that desperately wanted to fight back.

And now these heroes lie here, in this field where their battle ended. This cemetery. This battlefield. This hallowed ground.

Wally Miller, coroner, has walked this ground hundreds of times. He spent endless hours among those collecting human remains and picking up plane parts. Even now, he walks with his eyes down, looking, looking. Every now and then he reaches down and picks up a tiny piece of plane - a thimble-sized piece of twisted gray metal, a bit of charred plastic, a shard of circuit board, a wire. This is what Flight 93 became: millions of tiny pieces, a vast puzzle that can never be reassembled. Despite the cleanup effort, there are still thousands of plane parts scattered for acres around the crash site, just under the new plant growth, reminders of what happened here.

The site is peaceful; no sound but birds. Miller walks from the bright field into the hemlock woods just beyond the barren spot where Flight 93 slammed into the earth. It's mid-afternoon, but the woods are in permanent dusk, the tall trees allowing only a dim, gloomy light to filter down to the lush green ferns that blanket the ground. The woods look undisturbed, except for bright "X"s painted on the trunks of dozens of hemlocks. The "X"s mark the trees that were scaled by climbers retrieving human remains, flung high and deep into woods by the force of the crash.

Some of the hemlocks, damaged by debris and fire and jet fuel, had to be cut down. These trees were supposed to be trucked away, but Miller, who, as coroner, still controls the crash site, would not allow it. Some of the trees have been ground into mulch; some lie in piles of logs and branches. But they're all still here. Miller won't let them be removed.

"This is a cemetery," he says, again. And he is determined that it will be respected as a cemetery. All of it. Even the trees.

Almost immediately after the battle of Gettysburg, people started coming to see the place where history happened. More than a century later, they're coming still.

Some are pilgrims: For them, Gettysburg is a solemn place, where the suffering and sacrifice of the soldiers still hangs heavy in the air. Some are purely tourists: For them, Gettysburg is another attraction to visit, like the Grand Canyon, or Graceland - famous, but not particularly relevant to their everyday lives. You park, you look, you take a picture, you leave.

I think that most of the visitors to Gettysburg, even today, are some mixture of pilgrim and tourist. But as the battle has receded in time, as the scars of the war have healed, tourism clearly has come to dominate the mixture. Despite the valiant efforts of many to preserve the soul of this place, to explain to the waist-pack hordes why this ground is hallowed, Gettysburg, surrounded by motels and gift shoppes, accessorized by a wax museum and a miniature-golf course, is now much more a tourist attraction than a shrine.

But soldiers are still buried here. And people still come to place flowers on graves. And the sign at the entrance to the cemetery still makes its plea: SILENCE AND RESPECT.

Immediately after Sept. 11, people started coming to see where Flight 93 went down. The site is a little tricky to find, but they found it, and they're coming still, every day, a steady stream of people who want to be near this place. They're not allowed on the site itself, which is fenced off and guarded, so they go to the temporary memorial that has been set up by the side of a two-lane rural road overlooking the crash site, a quarter-mile away.

The memorial - the word seems grandiose, when you see it - is a gravel parking area, two portable toilets, two flagpoles and a fence. The fence was erected to give people a place to hang things. Many visitors leave behind something - a cross, a hat, a medal, a patch, a T-shirt, an angel, a toy airplane, a plaque - symbols, tokens, gifts for the heroes in the ground. There are messages for the heroes, too, thousands of letters, notes, graffiti scrawls, expressing sorrow, and love, and anger, and, most often, gratitude, sometimes in yearbookish prose:

"Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!"

Visitors read the messages, look at the stuff on the fence, take pictures. But mostly they stare silently across the field, toward the place where Flight 93 went down. They look like people you see at Gettysburg, staring down the sloping field where Pickett's charge was stopped, and the tide of war changed, in a few minutes of unthinkable carnage. There is nothing, really, to see on either field now, but you find it hard to pull your eyes away, knowing, imagining, what happened there.

There will be a permanent memorial for Flight 93. The temporary one is touching in its way, a heartfelt and spontaneous tribute to the heroes. But it's also haphazard, verging on tacky. Everyone agrees that something more dignified is needed. The official wheels are already turning: Congress has begun considering a bill to place the site in federal custody. Eventually land will be acquired; a commission will be appointed; a design will be approved.

Wally Miller frets about the memorial. He worries that, in the push to commemorate this as The Defining Moment In The War Against Terrorism, people will forget that it was also - maybe primarily - a personal tragedy for 40 families. He believes that, whatever is done at the site, there should be a place set aide for the Flight 93 families to grieve in private, away from the public, the tourists, the sightseers, the voyeurs, and what Miller calls "the metal-detector assholes."

Tim Lambert, who owns the woods where many of the remains were found, agrees that the paramount concern has to be the families.

"They are forced to live with this tragedy every day," he says. "The site itself is, for the most part, the final resting place for their loved ones. People need to remember and respect that."

One of the most heartrending quotes in "Among the Heroes" is from Deena Burnett, the widow of Flight 93 passenger Tom Burnett, who is believed to have played an active role in the battle on the plane. Mrs. Burnett is describing what it's like to be the widow of a hero:

"In the beginning, everyone asked, 'Aren't you proud of him? Aren't you happy that he's a hero?' I thought, my goodness, the first thing you have to understand is, I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other. For my husband to be anyone's hero ... I'd much prefer him to be here with me."

So we need to remember this: The heroes of Flight 93 were people on a plane. Their glory is being paid for, day after day, by grief. Tom Burnett does not belong to the nation. He is, first and foremost, Deena Burnett's husband, and the father of their three daughters. Any effort we make to claim him as ours is an affront to those who loved him, those he loved.

He is not ours.

And yet ...

... and yet he is a hero to us, he and the other people on Flight 93. We want to honor them, just as we want to honor the firefighters, police officers and civilians at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon who risked, and sometimes gave, their lives to try to rescue others. We want to honor them for what they did, and for reminding us that this nation is nowhere near as soft and selfish as we had come to believe.

We want to honor them.

And so in a few years, when grass grows once again over the place where Flight 93 hit the ground, when the "X"s have faded from the hemlocks, there will be a memorial here, an official, permanent memorial to the heroes of Flight 93. It will be dedicated in a somber and dignified ceremony, and people will make speeches. Somebody - bet on it - will quote the Gettysburg Address, the part about giving the last full measure of devotion. The speeches will be moving, but they will also prove Lincoln's point, that the words of the living can add nothing to the deeds of the dead.

Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!

There will be expressions of condolence to the families, and these, too, will be heartfelt. But they will not take away the grief.

I'd much prefer him to be here with me.

And then the ceremony will end, and the people will go home. And the heroes, the people on the plane, will remain here in the ground of Somerset County.

And years will pass, and more people will come here, and more, people who were not yet born when Flight 93 went down, coming to see this famous place.

Let's hope, for their sake, that the world they live in is less troubled than it is today. Let's hope they've never had to feel anything like the pain of Sept. 11, 2001.

Let's also hope that, when they stand here, they know enough to be silent, to show respect.

Let's hope they understand why this is hallowed ground.

[absolxguardian]

King was turning his attention to troublesome questions. He still insisted on non-violence. Riots were self-defeating, he thought. But they did express a deep feeling that could not be ignored. And so, nonviolence, he said, “must be militant, massive non-violence.” He planned a “Poor People’s Encampment” in Washington, this time not with the paternal approval of the President [like he had with 1963′s March on Washington]. And he went to Memphis, Tennessee, to support a strike of garbage workers in that city. There, standing on a balcony outside his hotel room, he was shot to death by an unseen marksman. The Poor People’s Encampment went on, and then it was broken up by police action, just as the World War I veterans’ Bonus Army of 1932 was dispersed [a protest of unemployed WW1 veterans desiring that Congress cash their promised war bonuses early].

The killing of King brought new urban outbreaks all over the country, in which thirty-nine people were killed, thirty-five of them black. Evidence was piling up that even with all of the civil rights laws now on the books, the courts would not protect blacks against violence and injustice:

1. In the 1967 riots in Detroit, three black teen-agers were killed in the Algiers Motel. Three Detroit policemen and a black private guard were tried for this triple murder. The defense conceded, a UPI dispatch said, that the four men had shot two of the blacks. A jury exonerated them.

2. In Jackson, Mississippi, in the spring of 1970, on the campus of Jackson State College, a Negro college, police laid down a 28-second barrage of gunfire, using shotguns, rifles, and a submachine gun. Four hundred bullets or pieces of buckshot struck the girls’ dormitory and two black students were killed. A local grand jury found the attack “justified” and a U.S. District Court Judge Harold Cox (a Kennedy appointee) declared that students who engage in civil disorders “must expect to be injured or killed.”

3. In Boston in April 1970, a policeman shot and killed an unarmed black man, a patient in a ward in the Boston City Hospital, firing five shots after the black man snapped a towel at him. The chief judge of the municipal court of Boston exonerated the policemen.

4. In Augusta, Georgia, in May 1970, six Negroes were shot to death during looting and disorder in the city. The New York Times reported: “A confidential police report indicates that at least five of the victims were killed by the police...An eyewitness to one of the deaths said he had watched a Negro policeman and his white partner fire nine shots into the back of a man suspected of looting. They did not fire warning shots or ask him to stop running, said Charles A. Reid, a 38-year-old businessman...”

5. In April 1970, a federal jury in Boston found a policeman had used “excessive force” against two black soldiers from Fort Devens, and one of them required twelve stitches in his scalp; the judge awarded the servicemen $3 in damages. 

These were “normal” cases, endlessly repeated in the history of the country, coming randomly but persistently out of a racism deep in the institutions, the mind of the country.

A People’s History of the United States, Howard Zinn (1980); Bracketed text my own additions.

[klakokum]

TRIBUTE TO HANS

You are that old cop who feels all right

with Mercy all through every night

or day, when her quality unstrained

still means sister Justice is not pained

with that correctness members of the new school

of the unschooled learn from the cruel

left (where they pack their holster).

You are the Kind who remembers the spade

called the spade; today Robert Peels bolster

the transfer of all power to those paid

by Alien. Alienated from the symbiotic

understanding-belonging of town to man

and man to town which the right cop nurses,

the left cop nurtures only the chaotic

pride of rebellion which sent Satan

into his pitted hell of heated curses…

But you understood the spirit to the law

left behind by the left cop’s ascendancies

from his people, and, yes, he will draw

the gun to cuff and shackle as he fancies

while you’d rather charm those orang-utans back

to their cages, compassion your lure.

The left cop will gladly number the arm

of the innocent, but you refused to crack

the trigger even permanently to cure

Red Ryan from bringing further harm.

Your back against the law is love. [Copyright © 1974, 2004, 2009 K’lakokum]

     Kangaroo Poet Karol Hans Jewinski passed away early in 2007 near his home in Jerusalem, at the age of 100.  He was still full of vigour, and had the physical appearance of a normal man in his late fifties.  Indeed, Karol fully expected to live at least 120 years, and would have, had he not become the innocent victim of a suicide bomber while shopping near his home.  Hans, as he preferred to be called, was a follower of Gjrg who, eight centuries ago, lived to the astounding age of 145, repeatedly proclaiming that everybody should expect to live at least 120 years.  Gjrg’s Ten Rules for Living a Century have been handed down by word of mouth from generation to generation, and 52 of his descendants have been documented to have lived at least 100 years, with another 40 probably doing so as well, but without proper supporting documentation. 

     As a young boy in rural Poland, Hans was allowed to adopt an abandoned and sick wolf cub.  The Jewinski farm was in the neighbourhood of Yvan Pavlov’s laboratory, and when the young lad consulted Pavlov about care for the wolf, he obtained his first job – cleaning out Pavlov’s dog kennels.  Often he did not receive payment for this work, because Pavlov was chronically broke until two decades later when his “science” was adopted by official Communism, and the Reds financed a little empire for him.  Hans became a life-long dog lover, and was always accompanied by a German Shepherd.

     When Hans’ father died suddenly, the lad was given into custody of an orthodox uncle in St. Petersburg.  This uncle, a German Jew, was a rabbi who made Hans fully acquainted with the Jewish faith (not taught to him earlier by his non-practicing father).  Hans received his bar mitzvah in the same week as the February Revolution. 

      In the civil war which followed the second [October] revolution, the tween-ager became a combatant on the White Russian side.  Even though Hans had experienced tsarist and White Russian anti-Semitism first hand, he fought on the tsarist side because he believed that all lawful authority was established by God, and obedience to authority was obedience to God.  When the royalists lost the civil war due to American intervention on the Communist side (Henry Ford et al), Hans escaped through Afghanistan into India, where he added English to his language repertoire.  [Hans was fluent in Polish, German, English, French, Greek and Yiddish.]  After being homeless and unemployed for three years, the teen-ager took on a job as an able seaman.  But he soon discovered that life on the water was not for him, and he abandoned ship at the first opportunity when in port at Halifax, Nova Scotia.  Taking brief jobs as a farmhand, or whatever he could get, he worked his way westwards across Canada.  In 1924, at the age of 18, he took on a civilian job caring for dogs in training for police K-9 duty, and started night school in Kingston, Ontario in order to obtain his high school diploma.  Upon graduation, he joined the Belleville, Ontario police department and was a cop for 37 years [except for 4 years in the air force during WWII, 13 months of that in a German  concentration camp after being shot down], retiring in 1963 on full pension at the age of 57.  He moved to Toronto and began his second career as a full-time poet, later becoming a founding member of the Kangaroo City Poets’ Collective.    He was about three decades senior to the average age of the poets in the collective, and was frequently consulted by the younger poets for advice on all aspects of life, as well as on questions of poetry.

        The Kangaroo City Poets’ Collective is a permanent organization, and when one of the member-poets passes on, his/her place is taken by someone elected from the membership of an auxiliary organization:  Kangaroo Poets – The Next Generation.  In this particular case, the Karol Hans Jewinski Chair is now occupied by Felll Wood.  Felll lives in Kokomo, Indiana.  She was introduced to Kangaroo City by Kangaroo Poet Rabin Duff, her high school English teacher in Peru, Indiana.  Through him, she was first published in South of Tuk in 2003.  Since 2007, she is the official custodian of the Karol Hans Jewinski Collection of the Kangaroo City Archives, and makes the selections in Hans’ name in the Nebiru Crossing bookstore, in keeping with the spirit and interests of Hans.

See also http://kangaroopoets.blogspot.ca/2011/04/hans-biographical-excerpt-from-nebiru.html

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