#culver is just like 'dove'

[dimensionalspades]

. Healing here was unnatural. You became wounded, and then with the barest of medical assistance, you were healed. The Entity wanted you in tip top condition so it could further break you, of course.

He hated that energy flowed, renewed by Faye's seemingly eternal kindness towards him. He appreciated it. In every case where one may wish to give up, she was there.

He didn't quite understand it, but he would accept it- even when he ached and wanted to sleep it all away.

"You have my thanks, however begrudging, culver." He slowly pushed himself up. "We make it out of here, mm? The Entity will not have us today." Unfortunately. He peered out the window, frowning, then turning back to her. Howling carried across the oddly still place, signaling that it was time to escape this particular hell.

"Let's go."

If she didn't need both hands to drag him she would have used one to clamp over his mouth and prevent him from drawing any more attention to them. It seemed unfair to have just enough strength to lift a larger survivor off the meat hook but not any other time. But the Entity was a cruel bitch and loved its little games.

"Love hurts and I'd like to believe you'd drag me to safety," she replied, choosing not to look up from the medkit, afraid of what his expression and eyes may reveal. Upon arrival into the fog, she had attached herself to him but that didn't mean he reciprocated the friendship.

Her hands remained steady as she cleaned and disinfected the wound before binding it with gauze. With it in place, relief should be washing over the older man. One saving grace of the Entity's ignorance of the real world was how long a wound would take to heal. Or maybe it was aware and ensured a quick recovery to instill another grain of hope in them.

[the-apocrypha]

DVD Bonus Features: Fanfic Edition!

I have like 6k of cut scenes from my last fic (the fourth dimension) and many of them were not cut because they were bad, but because they weren't working with the overall story. Seems a shame to let them languish on Google docs. So, for anyone who might be interested - here's two scenes that didn't make the final cut!

<<<>>>

The hourglass is broken. 

The glass is intact, of course, as is the intricate brass housing Dream had spent so many hours bending and curving into symmetrical spirals. It is the spring plate that forms one of the bases—designed to depress slowly as the weight of sand gathers, thereby stretching a miniature steel coil beneath such that it begins to draw back a tiny gilt hammer. When the full weight of sand is upon it, the catch releases, and the hammer strikes the chime. 

Dream had left the mechanism skeletonized, proud of both the ingenuity and the beauty of the gears he had crafted. This is what allows him to see, today, that even though the sand piles upon the spring plate, the hammer remains stationary. The plate is not depressing.

He has migrated to the window for better light and turned the hourglass every which way. The symmetry of the hourglass means that an identical mechanism exists on the other side, for convenient comparison, and it is from this that Dream is hypothesizing that the issue is perhaps with the pinion gear. 

He will not know for certain until he attempts correction. 

And herein lies the problem, for in a masterful stroke of arrogance on his own part: 

The glass is intact. 

His only options now to access the mechanism are to melt the glass, or strategically break it apart, and in either case hope for both minimal damage to the contents and an aesthetically pleasing repair following the—

“What’s wrong, dove?” 

Or rather, what Hob actually says is hǒu is th' problem, culver?, because Dream is standing in the kitchen next to an abandoned bowl of muesli, because it is breakfast, because during breakfast they speak Middle English. Hob is before him, coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. 

“It’s broken,” Dream replies. Is brokæ.

“It’s nearly eight,” Hob replies, eyebrows up. 

Dream abruptly sets the hourglass down. 

“So you noticed the Astrid Alarm was broken,” Hob says, as Dream swings the freezer door open and starts shifting ice packs and frozen pizzas about. “And then you didn’t set a different alarm. You didn’t eat your breakfast. You didn’t pack your bag.” 

“This is unhelpful.”

Hob goes quiet as Dream frantically stuffs notebooks into his backpack, then a water bottle (too light, probably empty), the peas, headphones, and a sweater from the back of a chair that is likely not his own. Three binder clips go into his pocket. All he needs is—

He turns to find Hob waiting, Dream’s wallet in one hand, sandwich in the other, meat now removed. 

Dream accepts both, and heads for the windowsill. 

“No kiss?” Hob complains.

The broken hourglass, too, goes into his bag. 

Dream doubles back, cups the side of Hob’s face more for the sake of injury prevention than tenderness, and presses a quick kiss of gratitude where it belongs. 

The hand on his wrist stays him. 

Hob’s fingers fall comfortably between the three watch bands that lie there, his thumb over Dream’s pulse point. 

“Tonight, five o’clock,” Hob reminds him. 

Dream holds up his other arm in reply, where a fourth watch glints golden. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hob says, beaming. “Hob Fob to the rescue.” 

It is one of the many great failures of Dream’s life, that this nickname has persisted. 

“Five,” Dream agrees, and pulls his hand free. “You will be wonderful.” 

“Best in my age group,” Hob agrees proudly, and raises his coffee mug just as Dream turns around to make for the door. The mug is a custom job from the internet a few years ago, chipped in both paint and porcelain, but the original black with white lettering can still be read: 

It does not belong to Hob. 

WORLD’S 

LEAST 

PUNCTUAL 

WATCHMAKER 

<<<>>>

(Originally there was an OC named Astrid that Dream would birdwatch with every morning, and Hob had a piano recital in the evening. Obviously these plot points went, and so the breakfast scene had to be rewritten.)

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. 

It cannot feel the sun moving across the sky. It does not know the axis of the Earth, nor the ellipsis of its orbit. It does not reach into the fabric of the universe and pluck divine truth from the red-shift coefficient of the galaxies that hurtle through space as afterthought projectiles of the origin of existence. 

A watch begins with a mainspring—or perhaps a quartz crystal, or microscopic solar panels—but traditionally, a mainspring. This is where the potential energy is stored, to be released as the kinetic energy that will drive the gears to turn the escapement, which is what moves the hands of the watch forward, and would do so without rhythm or reason were it not for the staying hands of the balance wheel. 

The balance wheel is the best part of a watch. The most precise. The most expensive, for the precious gems encrusted upon it that almost entirely eliminate the enemy of constancy: friction. It is what decides the length of a second, for it is what checks the urgency of the marching army of gears that say go go go go go and instead says no. It says, stop. For one thousand milliseconds or one million microseconds or one trillion picoseconds, it holds the entire watch in perfect stillness. 

Then the second hand ticks over. The next interval begins. 

On, and on, and on, and on, it goes. 

<<<>>>

A watch does not know the time it tells. It is a mindless contraption, a work of metal and stone and glass, and it grinds inexorably forward with a steady tick, tick, tick, tick, tick that may at first listen sound like the drumbeats of progress. But listen closer. Listen carefully. 

It is not a ticking that you hear. It is one small gear, striking back against the machine, protesting, crying out again and again: wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

(I liked this little meditation on the nature of watches, but it's a few shades off from my central thesis, and in the end was not needed.)

And that's it! Alas, sometimes good pieces must be sacrificed in the name of a greater project.

[zombieplaguedoc]

Hey, so back in September I went to the anime convention for four days, and the reason I didn't say anything right away is because I was waiting on two other commissions. Well, they both came, and now I can share it.

So, back in September, I went to an anime convention with Canada and Sasha, since last year I went with America and Estonia. We ended up staying for the whole event, which we usually don't do but since Canada had something to do in the same town the day after the convention officially ended, we did it this time. The first day we got there, we got some Culver's before going to our hotel room and unpacking, which was a lot harder to do than it looked. Since we arrived on the first day of the con, the hotel had a lot of people checking in so we had to wait a while to check in, but once we did it was pretty smooth sailing from there. We relaxed for a bit and then checked out the vendor hall before it closed. Saw some cool stuff, got some stuff. We got some dinner at a new Ramen place across the street, a d the Ramen they make is so good, way better than what you'd find at the store. Like so much better. So anyway, after that we went down to a panel at 10 pm where everyone discussed their fictional character crushes (one of the panelists had Rattlesnake Jake as a crush, and I was just so excited to see someone giving my dad some love, it just feels like nobody else loves him but me!). I got to admit a few of my fictional crushes (not saying who they are yet 🤫🤭), and I really felt among my people. The next panel was a Hetalia truth or dare panel that was at 11:30, and since I was going as Sealand from Hetalia, I fit right in; I got a few cosplayera who recognized me. I got to ask a few questions, even got asked to feel Germany's muscles (😳), got a dare or two in, I even got to sit up on the panel when three Nordic cosplayers got dared to switch out with three audience members of their choice for three rounds (I was chosen by Denmark), so yay my first panel experience! 🙌 So that went on until midnight.

The next day there was another Hetalia panel at 11:30, so I had to get up early for that, which I didn't mind at all; believe or not, an England cosplayer actually asked me to film it, which I accepted. I still got to participate- got to ask some questions and whatnot, seeing as how it was called 'A Scandal In Hetalia' where we basically had to solve who kidnapped Pierre, France's dove (it was Prussia). Also, I have a new ship thanks to that panel. That went on until 12:30. After that we checked out the rest of the vendor hall, bought some more stuff, and went to a small BJD panel that was at 1 called 'Anime doll meetup.' Not a whole lot happened during that panel, it was mainly people bringing in anime-style ball jointed dollars for you to look at and ask questions about, and there I learned that a Hetalia America doll I bought I believe two years ago actually counts as a ball-jointed doll, since somebody brought one on just like mine which I did not know, so I'll have to bring him next year. After that we bought some more stuff in the vendor hall, headed back up to the hotel room to get some lunch and watch an Indiana Jones movie to pass the time until the next panel at 4, which was a workshop where you got to make little miniature bento boxes for your ball-jointed dolls. We had a little bit of trouble assembling the boxes but I'm still proud of mine. It was a two-part workshop, over the span of two days and we went to the first part, which was making the boxes themselves. After that we went back up to the hotel room, ordered us some dinner, watched some TV, and went down at 10 for a panel called 'Art Attack', where we all played a game where we collaborated with an artist to come up with a new character based on a theme. Basically, after selecting a base for the body, we would all submit our ideas on this website for a specific part and each idea was put on a wheel that was spun, and whatever idea it landed on would go on the character. Unfortunately, I don't have a copy of the end result so I can't show you guys, but I don't mind; I had fun regardless.

The next day we didn’t have to wake up as early since the panels we wanted to go to weren't until late at night, so we got to mostly relax until 1 pm when there was a maid Cafe that was old anime-themed- the dance they did was the Haruhi Suzumiya ending dance That was fun, except the other sweets I ordered never came :/ Oh well. I still got to take a photo with two of my favorite maids and I got to have it personalized, so that was fun. After that I visited the vendor hall to order some commissions until the next panel at 4 pm, which was the second part of the miniature bento box workshop the day before. This part focused more in creating the miniature food that went inside the boxes and finishing off the boxes. Of course, I spent more time making sure my boxes looked good, but they gave us extra clay to take home and make food with, so that was nice. If I'm being honest, that panel was a lot of fun, I'm hoping the woman in charge comes back next year. After that we went up and ordered us some dinner from Five Guys since the next panel wasn't until 8:30, so we had some time to kill. At 8:30, we went down to the panel which was another Hetalia panel that was mostly centered around APH America and so had a bunch of America cosplayers- regular, nyo, 2p nyo, emo, America as Captain America, and Canada was involved too. Oh, and there was a toddler as part of the panel that was passed off as Chibi America; England even asked me to film this panel too. It was fun too, got a few American-themed goodies, got to ask some questions like what was their favorite Golden Girl, made a Victoria's Secret (the song) reference by telling England that Victoria was made up by a dude. Overall, very funny, would go again. Also, emo America was cute. After that we waited in line for the next panel which was a silent library panel. Unfortunately, this one wasn't as fun as the last one. For starters, there were a lot more people than at the last one, and they were all loud and wild as fuck, like seriously; the panel started at ten and went on til midnight and we only got three challenges done because most of it was spent the host trying to quiet everybody down because they all kept yelling when someone got punished for failing a challenge, or just for no reason. Then, people kept going in and out to use the bathroom so someone would yell 'door' whenever someone walked in, which wouldn't have been bad if it weren’t for the fact that it kept happening every time someone was up on stage to get punished for failing a challenge. On top of that, people got way too into the punishment, like they actually started taking off their pants before getting spanked, which was not something they did at the last silent library I went to. Now, I have no problem with nudity or sex when it comes to fictional characters, but that's it, that is my personal limit. I don't like real life human nudity, I hate humans, I'm not attracted to them at all, and yeah you get the point. Not only that, but since this was an 18+ panel, there was a strict 'No phones allowed' rule, and I swear, people do not know how to follow the rules, because the host caught someone with their phone out three times and all three times the person on their phone was escorted out or asked to leave. I swear, it's like being courteous to everyone participating in the panel was a foreign concept to them. On top of that, my wig kept giving me trouble, so we ended up leaving a half hour in. So yeah, not as fun as the last silent library panel I went to.

The last day of the con wasn't very exciting, which meant we were able to pack up everything with no trouble so we could leave the next day with ease since we had to check out the next day. There was a 'Test your rizz' panel that I wanted to go to since I thought it was like a panel I went to at a different con several years ago where you defended your fictional character and convinced the audience why they were superior waifu or husbando, but it wasn't anything like that, and the characters being cosplayed that were part of the panel weren't ones I'm into, so I quickly got bored and left and we just relaxed in the craft room. Overall, we took it easy the rest of the day, checked out the next day (we usually leave the con on the last day of the con while people are still there, so leaving it while it was completely empty save for the general public felt so fucking weird) stayed at another hotel since cousin Canada (standing in for a real life family member) had an appointment with a specialist, and the following day we went home. Overall, this con was a lot of fun, and I hope next year's con will be just as fun.

So I got a lot of stuff at this year's con, but before I show it, I absolutely have to show you all these cute little bento boxes I made at one of the panels.

Unfortunately, I started them at the con and didn't finish them until recently, and by then the clay they had allowed some of us to take home- which we used to make the miniature food- had dried up, so I ended up half-assing the food. They're not perfect but I still like them.

Okay, so, onto the stuff.

Sadly, there's a photo limit so I'll have to put what I got in a different post since it's quite a bit when combined with the bento box images.

Antis dni, this post is not for you

[maranull]

wait hol' up.

Rennala knows that Ranni's alive.

"Oh little Ranni, my dear daughter. Weave thy night into being." (x)

This wiki says that she's trying to resurrect Ranni, but she knows not only that Ranni is alive, but at least some of her plans as well. So that doesn't make sense.

Rennala is trying to resurrect something, that's for sure:

"Hush, little culver. I'll soon birth thee anew, a sweeting fresh and pure..." (x)

then:

"Ahh, my beloved... Have no fear, I will hold thee. Patience. Ye will be countless born, forever and ever." (x)

But nothing indicates that she's talking about Ranni or even any other named character. In Ranni's case is the contrary as she clearly talks to her and is aware of her daughter's final goal, The Age of Stars.

One more quote, cause I have an idea of who Rennala wants to resurrect:

"Be not afeard, little culver." (x)

This is her line when she kills the Tarnished in phase one. She could be using the word culver (pigeon/dove) for her followers.

Per the Juvenile Scholar Robe description:

"Robe worn by young academy scholars, the juveniles birthed anew by the amber egg of Queen Rennala, the head of Raya Lucaria Academy. Yet their rebirth is not without imperfections, and thus do they repeat the process, eventually becoming utterly dependent upon it. Rebirth is as sleep to them, and with each awakening, memory fades into oblivion."

"....They repeat the process..." and "Ye will be countless born, forever and ever." hints to the Scholars being the ones resurrected and no one else. The connection to doves is also there, as the Scholars are swarming around her like doves after bread.

So I think she's just talking directly to them, soothing and reassuring them as they try and fight the Tarnished.

~

All this to say that the idea that she's trying to resurrect Ranni is most likely wrong and probably shouldn't be in a wiki..? Or maybe with an asterisk? It's a theory with no real base, as far as I can tell.

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

Alr so a lil bit ago I wondered about Demigod/Shardbearer pet names, and now I will answer myself!

Morgott - Beloved, but not beloved in the traditional sense, pronounces it more like Be-Loved. Obvious because he wants you to know that he loves you, through and through, and no matter what you'll always be his beloved.

Mohg - Originally went for Dear or Dearest, but as soon as you introduced Love or Luv as a nickname, he was hooked. The situation is lovey-dovey? Calls you love. Situation is absolutely serious? Still calls you love. Basically replaces your name.

Malenia - there is some cut content where she calls the PC "Sweet Tarnished" and "Dearest Companion" so she I can definitely see her calling someone "Sweetie" or "Sweatheart" as well as "Dearest."

Miquella - some cut content implies that he might have had a speaking role that had him call the Tarnished "Seedling" and given that so many dearests are used to refer to him, if wager a guess that he might use "Darling" as a mix between the two.

Rennala - Pretty obvious it could be Sweeting, Culver, or perhaps Beloved. Another option is Little "name" due to the Ranni dialogue. Given her dialogues.

Radagon - fitting with Rennala, probably uses birdy names like Culver, probably uses Beloved too. Also may use Dear or Dearest due to so many of his children using it.

Ranni - is the type to use an insult as a pet name. Uses some old-fashioned insult for her Consort, other than just Dear or Dearest. My favorite after looking it up is Mooncalf or dullard.

Radahn - Absolutely could see him using some type of pet name but starting with "Little" like Little Duck or Little Dove, given that Caelid was once presumably a less rotted region, and that anyone is smaller than Radahn. Another thought is something like "Honey" to really set in the Dad jokes.

Rykard - uses Dear and then your name. That's it, literally don't think there is anything else to use for him. He also says it in a condescending way that's like kinda really sexy. Also may use insults as pet names, but those ones will be personal attacks.

Godwyn - Absolutely uses something like "my love" or "my beloved" or "my dearest" something to let you know that you are number 1 in his eyes, and that you are his. Will always fix the "my" to it though.

Godrick - another to use insults as pet names. Probably defaults to something like Dumbarse, but when pushed will call you "my precious" 🤣

Godfrey - near everyone is also probably shorter than him, so he might call you "Little Warrior" or something to a similar effect. Definitely uses Dear and Beloved though, to widespread to not be utilized by him as well.

Marika - unique nicknames from her. Defaults to dear, Dearest, and beloved, but when she gets to know you better she's stepping up her game. Uses insults as nicknames, but only in private, what would the city think if she calls her Consort a "loathly vixen" in public. That being said, other such personal nicknames will be some form of charmer or tempter/temptress and other such names.

I think you did that ask a better service than I ever could. Me likes this very much, anon.

[cloudninetonine]

Doing more late night research and discovered medieval slang terms that are absolutely golden to think about in the context of the Chain. Here's some of my personal faves:

Skalemar, meaning someone parasitic, greedy or a scrounger. I imagine Legend has definitely called Ravio this.

Churl, which is someone who acts lower class than they were or some who was a peasant.

Puterelle was a name for a woman of ill repute, and a doxy was a spicy way of calling someone a whore. Obviously, the way to get to a medieval woman was to insult her public image.

A little man or someone child-like would be called a Mandrake Mymmerkin. I can't can't over the image of Player hearing someone tell Four he's a Mandrake Mymmerkin and him having to explain what in the fresh hell those fancy words mean.

If you want something more endearing, lambkins was used to call a loved one a little lamb, and culver was the equivalent of calling someone dove. Do with that info as you will.

Okay, but, someone calling Player like a "churl" or something of the other and they just lean into one of the boys like "The fuck this bitch say?"

[formeryelpers]

Museum of Jurassic Technology, 9341 Venice Blvd, Culver City, CA 90232

The Museum of Jurassic Technology will make you wonder what is a museum and what deserves to be displayed in a museum? Are the strange notions of other people who fancied themselves as scientists and visionaries worthy of being in a museum? It’s fitting that the introductory video to MJT talks about the development of the modern museum and the precursor, individuals who collected objects of curiosity.

MJT feels like a dark labyrinth of tiny rooms on two levels, filled with exhibits that are unique and fringe. There isn’t much room and some of the exhibits seemed to be out of order – e.g., one room was so dark (it didn’t have any lights), that you couldn’t see the exhibits or read the descriptions.

If you enjoy reading, the descriptions tend to be very long. Or you can pick up old-fashioned telephones and listen to information about the exhibits. The upstairs area has a tea room where you can enjoy complimentary hot tea and cookies, along with an enchanted garden area with doves. It’s very bright, in contrast to the interior.

Exhibits included miniature art on needles, objects from trailers and trailer dioramas, paintings of Russian space dogs (dogs that were actually sent into space), letters to Mt. Wilson observatory, carved pipes, a room of superstitious beliefs/folk remedies for ailments, a mini Noah’s Ark, butterfly specimens, cat’s cradles, a history of an organ manufacturer, a Russian scientist who wrote about how to travel to outer space, secrets of puppetry, etc.

Admission is $8 for adults and $5 for teachers and students. Parking is difficult in the area. Plan to spend about 2 hours here. Enter through the gift shop. The no-photo policy seems so antiquated, just like their website (which hasn’t been updated in 11 years).

3 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

[ladyofdragonflies]

Dear Ripper Fandom

I am really thinking about doing a part 2 of the Teen fancast...I already have some characters in mind but I want YOUR opinion too...so if you want to see a baby version of someone not on this list, just ask away

- Frank Thatcher

- Bella Culver/ Drake

- Donald Arthenton

- Raine Thornell

- Nathaniel Dove

- Emily Reid

....

OBS: I am not sura about adding Mathilda and Drumm since we already know what they looked like as teens

[yeswritingsandwritings]

A Good Drive To LA

Kendra was impressed when I told how much cocaine I’d taken en route to her apartment. Arcata, CA. Some bumfuck hippie town far too similar to where I’d come from. I was itching to get out. Still far too far from Los Angeles. I wanted the soullessness. Fuck if I ever took a hallucinogen again. Never thought too much about why I was going. Just wanted the high of leaving everything behind me. I’d stormed down the coast, gripping corners of the 101 so tightly I got hard. “Yes, the new life, yes!” I said to myself. And now here I was with these girls, ripping the bong getting a different type of faded, and the girls were laughing at everything I said. Good shit. Shit every man deserves. Don’t you think?

I had to think quick on my feet as the girls got tired and decided to go off to their rooms. Another bump in the bathroom and the impossible calculation: How to get in this girl’s room? How to get her to bring me along? I mean, it wasn’t too long of a shot; she’d already sucked my dick once, on one of those stupid trips I’d taken to LA with the Xanax and the rented Mercedes and the strip clubs and the tired thumbs from swiping right on Tinder. Say yes to life!

But Kendra had a boyfriend now. I said “I’m not tired, would you care to watch a movie?” Fuckin’ easy. Classic and easy. Another bump in the bathroom and stifled maniacal laughter. Of course! How could I ever have doubted myself?! I was in.

We moved into the bedroom like some stoned sex robots. Nervous little whispers falling from our mouths, vanishing into eternity before God got a chance to look at them. Neither of our memories would function. Too strung out from years of this weed and these goddamn little benzodiazepine tablets. I stuck it in her soft and holy. She whimpered like a beautiful dog, lost in the night. Our foreplay was all of our lives leading up to this point. And a single touch collapsed the entire foundation. So we fucked quick, and automatically it was morning and the sun spewed ugly light thru the blinds, and Kendra rose to go to class. Gnawing down a granola bar I packed up my bag and got back to the car, finally wiping the heaving sweat from my forehead. Below me lay Los Angeles, all glitter and glam from where I was standing. Behind me all green and brilliant, a life squandered. Too precious to look at, so I dove southward to the dry desert, where everything is simple and you can pretend your soul isn’t there at all. A dream come true.

The next night I spent with my cousin in La Honda, a quiet backwoods town in the dense forest beyond San Francisco. La Honda, California, where everyone stays high and crashes at each other’s houses. Coming into the place from the outside world is like entering Disneyland. A little independent state within America, with a language and a currency in common, but something far different afoot, which would take years to uncover, and which I had no interest in fully knowing. I guess you have to have a certain level of enlightenment to maintain composure in this place, because I got shaky eyed in a matter of minutes and trembled to my car to retrieve the etizolam solution. Ah sweet relief among the Redwoods.

And my cousin showed me Paradise PD as his roommates, the owners of the town’s only general store, went into Frisco to dig the weed convention, and came back holding huge bundles of paraphernalia. I slept on the couch, passionately sedated, and awoke to say goodbye as quickly as possible. Our grandmother had recently died. We were both hurting, but what could we say to each other? I myself had called my mother in the middle of the night, weeping, and then, in a moment of desperate clarity, had taken up stronghold with a local girl, ostensibly bent on building something meaningful. It fell through, and I had my savings and I kept going south.

That evening I arrived in Los Angeles. The road rage sunset had left a flurry of red and yellow pastels on my face. My cousin Megan saw my road-weariness and guided me to the shower. “Fuck a shower!” I protested. “I’m in Los Angeles!”

And I was. My new home, I suppose, if I wanted it to be. I had enough money that if I were bored in a month I could dip off to some other American city, chugging my Svedka and imagining peace. It helped that I knew someone living in this city though, so I crashed on Megan’s floor with the rats. And in the daytime I went out with the pickup artists, until I was entwined enough in their group that I sought housing with two of its junior members. Josh, a portly Philipino from the Valley, and Aaron… a portly Philipino from the Valley.

We took up lodgings in a three bedroom apartment in Culver City, a stone’s throw from Santa Monica or Koreatown, or Hollywood if we wanted to go. Fuckin’ A, I’d tricked the landlord into thinking I was a big business entrepreneur, but now I needed a real source of income. Falling back on music, which was ostensibly what I’d come here to do, I took work as the head music director for the Boys and Girls Club of Greater Conejo Valley. But the goddamn band only rehearsed once a week, for a fabled performance months and months in the future. “I need more work,” I said to the upper management. So they put me with Henry at a school in Calabasas, where the tap water runs gold and Drake and Kanye plot their next revolution.

“Calabasas is the new Abu Dhabi.” The neon words illuminated Kanye at his show.

I’ll tell you the truth. The tap water in Calabasas was far from gold, but it was useful in swallowed the massive amounts of Clonazolam and DXM I had decided was needed to get through the day. An ordinary day as an ordinary Boys and Girls Club worker, watching the kids play Super Smash Bros, stacking the chairs up and down and dissociating. In the bathroom I would snort cocaine straight from the bag and watch myself in the mirror. That crazy motherfucker with all the talent in the world, come to rot in Los Angeles. Yeah, yeah, a classic story.

At this time I was still going out like mad, approaching and wooing girls with a surgical ambivalence best witnessed, but still a thrill to be told about. On this particular night we were in Hollywood, wandering around Davey Wayne’s after spending the day tripping acid at the Getty Museum, then weaving eternal circles on the freezing Santa Monica beach. I saw a blond girl, approached her like a brilliant robot, smiling dazzling euphorias through my teeth. The blond girl’s name was Ezmerelda. Of fucking course it was. A creature so exotic she couldn’t exist as a Sarah or a fuckin’ Emma. She was active in the conversation, and she spun me to a fuckin’ thread when she stared in my pupils. She was the embers of the ghost of some girl I once knew, who I thought I knew well, but who was now a shadow presence to me, vaguely haunting my every decision and filling the background of life with nonsense. The crew went to Denny’s and we spoke of universes unseen and unfathomed. Pure life poured forth from her eyes, but when I went to lap it up the devil clamoured and hollered. “Fall back,” he said. “You’re not worthy.”

And maybe he was right. I awoke the next morning dazed as ever, alone, having nothing to do but take a walk and think of the night before. Gently ripping my blunt I sauntered off to Vons, down the street, and I gazed into the eyes of the checkout clerk, who was very tied up in the hustle and bustle of it all as she scanned my wine. Outside, the February sunshine penetrated all, and I thought of past wonders. The glories and the humiliating defeats. And I thought of what was to come. And a strange smile cracked over my face. It would be a long life, labyrinthine and impossible, but I wanted all of it. “Thank you,” I said to the clerk, clear as I’ve ever said anything. And, in the intangible euphoria of day, headed southward, to the apartment, out of which branched irreconcilable potential. And I lay and slept.

[hollywithaneye]

Sticks and Stones - Chapter 1

Anonymous said: this would go so perfect with lokane - “Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?” 

For you, anonymous, I present the first part of the abomination you have birthed - a Frankenstein’s monster of human AU and university AU with a heavy nod to The Hating Game.

Enjoy reaping what you have sown. Look forward to the next chapter soon.

Click click. Clack.

The soundtrack of hell was not the screams of the damned, Jane Foster suspected. It was the clattering staccato of a keyboard being tortured.

Clack clack. Click.

Lips thinning with annoyance, she dared a glance across the table over the top of her monitor and met frosty green eyes that held a glint of sordid amusement, the typing only growing louder as she drew in a long breath through her nose.

Fantastic. Today was a Staring Day. Which meant it was also an Irritate Jane (More Than Usual) Day, which meant she didn’t even dare ask Loki Laufeyson to restrain his troglodyte smashing of the hapless computer. The last time she had, she’d come in the next day to find he’d swapped all of the existing keyboards in the lab with some antiquated, horrifically loud mechanical ones he’d dug out from somewhere.

A time machine, perhaps. He’d literally gone back to 1997 just to aggravate her with noisy plastic rectangles of discord. She wouldn’t put it past him.

“Is something the matter, Ms. Foster?”

She could feel the weight of his stare still on her, and realized too late that her face must have given away her black thoughts. Damn it. She hated when he realized he’d gotten under her skin. Schooling her expression smooth again with another long exhale, she plastered a smile on that felt as paper thin as it probably looked. “Absolutely nothing, Loki.”

Save for having to share a universe with him. Of all the solar systems in all of the galaxies...

Save for his insistence on calling her ‘Ms. Foster’, as if she was some dowdy old matron straight out of an episode of Downton Abbey. Made all the worse by his posh, British accent.

Save for the fact that he wore button-ups and slacks every damned day of the week, every damned week of the year, regardless of the weather. As if t-shirts and jeans were simply beneath him, as if he wasn’t just another graduate grunt like she was, slaving away at their research.

Save for the small matter of being her ex’s brother.

And the cold, cutting way his gaze had swept over her the very first time they’d met - Jane so eager and euphoric and desperate to make a good impression on Thor’s well-heeled family. That flinty stare had dissected her, taken in her department store dress and costume jewelry that screamed ‘I paid for these with student loan money’ and then simply...flickered away, wordlessly. Judgment passed. Message clear, no words needed.

She didn’t belong.

That had been over two years ago, and the memory still made her want to grind her teeth. She and Thor had broken up shortly after that, and she could never quite get past the niggle of doubt that Loki had had something to do with that. A well-placed word in Thor’s mother’s ear, perhaps. Or Thor himself, even.

Regardless, she’d lost a boyfriend and gained a most unwanted associate when Loki had transferred to her university the very next semester. And of course, he was an astrophysics major as well. Whatever had possessed him to leave the Ivy league school he'd probably been attending and come to Virginia, Jane didn’t have the faintest idea, even if the program here at Culver was well regarded. She more than half suspected it was just to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t get any more ideas where his brother was concerned.

The creak of a door opening drew her attention, and the rumpled head of their adviser Dr. Erik Selvig poked out of his office. “Jane, Loki...may I see you both a moment please?”

She shot out of her chair and scurried across the lab, working twice as hard to cover the space as Loki did with his absurdly long strides. At the doorway she barely nudged ahead of him with a well-placed elbow, and tried not to look smug as she claimed the only spare chair in Eric’s office.

Childish? Absolutely. Petty? Indeed.

Satisfying?

Oh, yes.

Her triumphant grin faded somewhat as Loki simply perched on the arm of the chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, the lean line of his back turning half of her field of view to dove-gray silk. His impeccable posture managed to make the shabby IKEA abomination look like a throne.

It was the Personal Bubble Game, and she ground her teeth against the urge to shrink away and let him win.

God, she hated him.

Erik’s tired gaze, the worn gray of old denim, bounced between the two of them and he sighed almost inaudibly as he settled behind his desk. “Have you ever considered how much further you could both advance your studies if you simply worked together?”

A sharp-edged smile slashed across Loki’s face. “And where would science be without a good rivalry or two? What was Edison without Tesla? Koch versus Pasteur? Cope and Marsh and the Great Bone Wars?”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” Erik fixed him with a flat, unamused look that said volumes before continuing. “But in that case, you'll be very interested in what I have to say. I have an associate, Dr. Holger Sørensen, at the University of Oslo in Norway. Fascinating man, with some fascinating work on the cutting edge of astronomy and astrophysics...and it just so happens that he's interested in taking on a handful of select students for a research experience this winter at the Cerro Tololo observatory in Chile.”

Jane lurched forward in her chair, mouth hanging agape at Erik’s words. If he was saying what she thought he was saying...this was the sort of opportunity that most people in their field would cheerfully murder for. She was too engrossed to even notice that her shoulder was pressed up against Loki’s side, until he shifted and shot her an inscrutable Look.

Ha! A reaction, even if she hadn’t intended to get one. One point to her.

Steepling his fingers, Erik continued blithely on. “I don’t need to reiterate what sort of opportunity this is, one that both of you more than deserve. Having the chance to study under another preeminent member of our field and draw your own comparisons against the southern hemisphere. However…” he trailed off before drawing a sigh, and Jane felt the air in the room deflate. “As criminal as it is, with university funding being what it is these days, I’m afraid we only have grant money enough to send one of you.”

Long, slim fingers suddenly clasped hers and shook her hand with surprising strength. “My condolences, Ms. Foster. It was lovely knowing you, try not to think of me too much when I’m gone.”

She blinked up at Loki, too startled by the sudden contact even react to his audacious comment. Only when the warmth of his grip began to seep into hers did she snatch her hand back and fix a glare on her face, the furrow of her brows deepening at his low chuckle. “You...arrogant…”

Brilliant. She couldn’t even come up with a good opening salvo for the Insult Game.

“That’s enough, Loki,” Dr. Selvig chided, and Jane’s glower turned on him as she caught the twitch of a smile at the corner of Erik’s lips. “I haven’t made any sort of final decision as to whom the university will send. Provided you’re both interested, that is.”

“I am,” they both chimed in at the same time, exchanging narrowed glances.

“Of course.” Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Erik folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Then I see no way to pick between you other than to base my decision off of the progress of your upcoming thesis projects at the end of this term. And to be impartial, I’ll turn the final say over to a committee of myself, Dr. Yu, and Dr. Hynek. Is that acceptable?”

“Absolutely.” Standing swiftly, Jane would have tried to beat Loki through the door once more if he hadn’t bowed mockingly and let her through first in a parody of chivalry.

“I’ll email you the rest of the details. Dismissed then. Good chat!” Erik’s voice chased after them, ending in a snort of exasperation.

Picking her way back through the bramblepatch of equipment and cables that seemed to perpetually sprout in Erik’s lab, Jane settled herself at the small table she shared with Loki that held her laptop and notebook, her fingers flying across the keys as fast as her thoughts tumbled with renewed fervor. She had this, she knew she did. Her calculations were so close to a breakthrough and there was no way that Loki would be able to come up with anything half as innovative as she, even if they were working on the same concept, studying dark matter and how it could possibly pertain to wormholes. And if she got this position, she could extrapolate so much from her observations of the southern hemisphere...

“Cuanto quieres esto?”

Jane blinked at the foreign phrase, and lifted her head to frown at Loki. “What?”

Loki’s lips curled in a Cheshire grin. “You know this is already decided. Do you even speak Spanish?”

“No. But I can learn.” It was childish, but she couldn’t help ducking her head back behind her monitor to silently parrot his question while safely hidden, her lips twisted in disdain. Of course he knew Spanish. He’d probably learned it from some private tutor at the age of twelve, crammed in between polo lessons and pulling the wings off of butterflies.

A beat of silence, and then he spoke again, sly humor warming his tone. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that your face will stay like that?”

“Like what? I wasn’t...” She trailed off, wrinkling her nose at being called out. There was no point in lying over something as childish as that, even if she was any good at deceit. She settled for glaring at the sliver of his forehead she could see over her monitor. How in the heck had he even known she was mocking him?

“I know you better than you think, Ms. Foster.” As if he could read her thoughts. He shifted in his seat, leaning back to catch her eye and stretching his long legs across the space beneath their table, crowding hers. It was obvious he had no interest in leaving her alone until he got the rise he wanted.

“Oh?” The thought of being so easy to read needled her. “Regale me with your insight then,” she challenged dryly, arms crossed, resigned to playing along for now. “I could use a good laugh.”

Her only answer for some moments was a brow winging upwards, until he seemed to have reached some silent consensus. “Jane Foster. Born and raised solidly lower middle class, in a small town in rural Iowa by a widowed father of meager means. Your best, and possibly only friend, is Darcy Lewis, an undergrad studying political science that you more than likely associate with simply because she handles social situations far better than you. Your taste in clothes is unimaginative and tends towards the...practical.” He somehow made the word seem like an insult.

“Your taste in music is probably equally pedestrian, if the occasional out of tune humming of Ed Sheeran is any indication. You have only a glancing association with anything resembling a balanced diet, your favorite color is midnight blue, you watch Dancing With the Stars religiously, and you desperately seek the approval of Dr. Selvig and his peers.” He paused again, and his lip curled slightly, as if scenting something unpleasant. “Oh, and your taste in men is...questionable, at best.”

The unspoken ‘Because you dated my brother’  hung in the air between them, garish like a neon sign. Blood rose in Jane’s cheeks, boiling beneath her skin, and the heat of her embarrassment stole her words from her. She wanted to stand up and argue, to tell him he was completely wrong about everything. To fight back against the way he flayed her with his bald statements and left her feeling naked and squirming and so very small...but what had she expected from Loki, really? Humor? The man had all of the warm fuzziness of a coral snake.

In fact, a snake was the perfect representation of Loki. Sleek and alluring in its own strange way, but cold and dangerous. Best kept at arm’s length, if not further.

To think that once, some silly part of her had thought they could perhaps be friends.

“You’re an ass.” She wasn’t proud of the slight warble in her voice. Half of her wanted to tear into him in return, to spell out just what sort of an arrogant jerk she thought he really was, and the other half was determined to be the bigger person at the moment. Eventually, it won out and she closed her mouth on the scathing response that bubbled up within her, settling instead for a scorching glare.

He scoffed slightly. “You insult me for being honest? Would you have preferred that I lie? Because I could have done that, and well enough that you’d have believed me. It’s hardly my fault that you got exactly what you asked for and then resented it.”

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a breath, counting slowly to five. “You know it’s not the things you say, right? It’s how you say them. That’s why you can’t seem to go one day without pissing me off somehow.”

“And I’m supposed to apologize for your hurt feelings? I refuse to change myself for anyone. Even you, Ms. Foster.” He eyed her with a cryptic frown. “Especially you, perhaps.”

“Of course not. If you did, we might actually get along, and then the universe would implode,” Jane snapped, and stood abruptly, holding onto the fraying threads of her temper through sheer willpower alone.

Why her? Why did he seem to delight in picking on her in particular? What ancient god had she pissed off in a past life to deserve being saddled with this cardboard cutout masquerading as human?

With a loud clack she slapped her laptop shut and tucked it under one arm along with her journal, bracing a hand on the edge of the table and leaning in until he was forced to meet her eyes. “You’re selfish, Loki. And cold, and cruel.” She broke off to rake him with her most disdainful glare. “No wonder Thor is your parent’s favorite.”

It was a low blow. She knew it and she regretted it immediately, long before his face went white and his lips thinned bloodlessly. But whatever he might say as a rebuttal she knew she wouldn’t weather, and so she sped on before he had the chance. Survival of the fittest. “Listen to me. I will win this internship. I will prove my theory is right someday, publish it, and make a name for myself in this field. And you...” Jane straightened and lifted her chin, squaring her jaw proudly. “You will never be able to forget that once upon a time, you had the chance to be my friend.”

Suddenly Loki was simply there, her nose practically tapping against his chest as he towered over her. She hadn’t even seen him move. And good grief, she’d known he was tall but she hadn’t appreciated just how much higher he stood than her. How much larger, even if his frame was deceptively lean. A far cry from his brother, who’d dwarfed Jane in every way.

His expression was drawn in stark savage lines, and the air around them crackled with something frenzied and furious. When his hand lifted towards her she couldn’t quite keep from flinching away, more than half expecting to see the biting arc of static leap between them. It fell back to his side, and he let out a small sound of disgust.

“Let us get something straight, Jane Foster.” His green eyes, normally so frigid, blazed like witchfire as he bared his teeth at her in a mocking smile. “You and I shall never, ever be...friends.” He flicked the word at her like a drop of acid, and she flinched again from the vehemence in his voice.

With one last dismissive glance, he collected his things and strode out of the room, leaving Jane to sag in his wake. Her heartbeat rushed in her ears and thrummed beneath her skin and she felt stymied. Frustrated, for reasons she couldn’t quite name. She kicked the table leg once in a fit of pique, but only earned herself a stubbed toe for her troubles.

The smarmy bastard. He’d stolen the last word, and her exit. That was like...practically ten points to him.

That had to be it.

~TBC~

[jenniferfaye34]

#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Murder Double or Nothing by Lida Sideris... #mystery #books #CozyMystery #readers

Murder: Double or Nothing: A Southern California Mystery by Lida Sideris

About Murder Double or Nothing

Murder: Double or Nothing: A Southern California Mystery Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series Level Best Books (July 22, 2019) Print Length: 285 pages Digital ASIN: B07VMB2DSN

Corrie Locke, newbie lawyer and daughter of a late, great PI, is learning the ropes at the Hollywood movie studio where she works—and where things are never what they seem. Life imitates art when a fictional murder attempt turns real—right before her very eyes. With more than a little help from friends and a crazy movie legend, Corrie trips down a trail littered with wisecracks, mysterious messages, and marginally legal maneuvers to track down the killer. Meanwhile, clues keep disappearing and Corrie makes an enemy whose deadly tactics keep escalating. Will her impromptu sleuthing skills be enough to catch the mysterious assailant before he takes her down?

EXCERPT: He pedaled the bicycle hard and fast down the narrow, deserted alley, stealing glances behind him. It was a late, warm Friday afternoon somewhere on the eastside of Los Angeles where police protection was scarce and hoodlums plentiful. Two and three story buildings huddled together on both sides of the rider. Graffiti stained the walls. Hunched over the handlebars, the cyclist whizzed past a dented metal dumpster, unsettling newspapers and milk cartons pressed against a doorway. The collar of a gingham dress shirt stuck up beneath his red pullover and a backpack flopped behind him. Chuck Taylors clinched his nerdiness, as did the argyle socks. He looked fresh out of a computer lab, on his way to the library. There was nothing unusual about him, if you didn’t count the bulging eyes, gritted teeth and heavy panting. His expression belonged on a trapped animal. A black sedan barreled around the corner, tires grinding and coughing up pieces of asphalt. Leaning his torso out of the passenger window, a muscular guy in a white T-shirt clutched a revolver. He aimed at the cyclist, fired three times and missed. The rider angled around a corner and skidded to a stop. Dropping the bicycle on its side, he stumbled over the upturned wheel moments before the car crushed the bike beneath its fat tires, spitting out a tangle of metal and chrome. The car parked, and two thugs spilled out. They raced after the cyclist, guns drawn. The nerd careened toward the side of a brick building and jumped up, arms outstretched above his head. The silver cuff around his wrist glinted as he grabbed the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder, legs flailing wildly. The ladder creaked and swayed. He’d barely started the climb when the hoodlums fired. And missed again. “Oh, brother,” I whispered. The nerd scrambled onto a landing and dove through an open window. “Cut,” a gruff voice rang out. “No one’s going to believe this,” I muttered. “Do you mind?” I stood apart from the assorted movie crew and onlookers, but one lanky guy hovered behind my shoulder, his arms crossed against his chest. His sun baked face turned a shade of red that complemented the brick building behind me. The guy lowered his shades along the bridge of his nose to get a better look at me. “Do you have any idea what ‘quiet on the set’ means?” His words tumbled out through clenched teeth. “I spoke after you yelled, ‘cut’. And I was talking to myself.” It didn’t add to my credibility, but it was the truth. “You were mumbling the whole time.” “Well, I couldn’t help it. The scene wasn’t realistic,” I told him. “We’re not shooting a documentary here,” he said. “But there’ll be people like me watching who’ll know. You just can’t squeeze out bullets like a squirt gun.” I was new to my lawyer gig at the movie studio, but not so new to PI work and guns. Thanks to my father. “It’s hard to miss at such close range.” “How would you know?” He glared my way. “Did I hire you? Do you even work here?” He gave me a slow once over and squinted at the badge on my chest. My tailored, sea green sheath dress and three-inch pumps had to give me some status. Even my usual tangle of hair had cooperated into a French twist. That was a first. I was a female force to be recognized. “Carrie what?” His squint still pinned to my badge. “Corrie. Corrie Locke. I work on the business side of the studio.” “Is that so?” His lips turned inward. “Well, mind your own business. You should not be judging the fake shooting ability of my actors. This wasn’t even the final take.” He lifted his manicured chin and his voice. “I want her removed from the set.” His finger pointed to my head. “Is this a comedy?” I asked. “Because that scene might work if it is.” “It’s dead serious. As in police drama serious. Viewers are going to flock to this film. Know why? Because it’s going to be a highly watchable murder mystery.” “Maybe the cyclist could be wounded. Even a surface wound would do.” He looked around and yelled, “Why is she still here?” I was now working on the main lot of Ameripictures Studios in Culver City, a town steeped in Southern California movie-making history. I’d been relocated nearly a month ago from a production arm in Newport Beach. A trouble free month, I might add. Unlike the stint in Newport, I’d avoided private investigation work completely on the main lot. My trouble free streak was going strong. Until now. A tall guy in a loose shirt and baggy shorts hustled in my direction. I turned on my heel and was about to vacate the fictional city street when a long scream froze me in place. All eyes aimed for the brick building. White shades covered every window, except one. The fire escape had led the nerd to the only open window. A woman with inky black hair poked her head out of it. “Help, help!” she said. “He’s been stabbed.”

About the Author

Lida Sideris is an author, lawyer, and all-around book enthusiast. She writes soft-boiled mysteries and was a recipient of the Helen McCloy Mystery Writers of America scholarship award. Murder: Double or Nothing is #3 in her Southern California Mystery series, published by Level Best Books. Lida is also the author of The Cookie Eating Fire Dog, a picture book for ages 4-8. She lives in the northern tip of SoCal with her family, rescue dogs and a flock of uppity chickens. To learn more, please visit: www.LidaSideris.com Author Links WEBSITE: http://www.lidasideris.com/ BLOG: http://www.lidasideris.com/blog/ FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/lidasideris TWITTER: @lidasideris GoodReads:http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26139837-murder-and-other-unnatural-disasters?from_search=true&search_version=service Purchase Links AMAZON a Rafflecopter giveaway TOUR PARTICIPANTS September 11 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT September 11 – The Pulp and Mystery Shelf – GUEST POST September 12 – I'm All About Books – SPOTLIGHT September 13 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT September 14 – Babs Book Bistro – SPOTLIGHT September 15 – Nadaness In Motion – GUEST POST September 15 – Hearts & Scribbles – SPOTLIGHT September 16 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT September 16 – Diary of a Book Fiend – REVIEW September 17 – Mysteries with Character - AUTHOR INTERVIEW September 18 – Baroness' Book Trove – REVIEW September 19 – Jane Reads - REVIEW, CHARACTER GUEST POST September 20 – I Read What You Write - SPOTLIGHT September 21 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT September 21 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT September 21 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – GUEST POST September 22 – Laura's Interests – SPOTLIGHT September 23 – A Blue Million Books – AUTHOR INTERVIEW September 24 – eBook Addicts – SPOTLIGHT

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[welcometomy20s]

June 11, 2018

Article of The Day

Okay, I guess I need to do this, because the next slate of the candidates are coming. This is California, the longest of these posts. Some undetermined.

CA-01(Shasta - Yreka, Redding, Chico): Incumbent - Doug La Malfa (Rep). Challenger - Audrey Denney, agriculture teacher? PVI: R+11

CA-02(N. Coast - Eureka, Mendocino, San Rafael): Incumbent - Jared Huffman (Dem), who is non-religious. Challenger - Dale Mensing. PVI: D+22

CA-03(Sacra. Valley - Yuba City, Woodland, Davis): Incumbent - John Garamendi (Dem). Challenger -  Charlie Schaupp, ret. Marine. PVI: D+5

CA-04(Sierra Nevada - Auburn, Truckee, Yosemite Valley): Incumbent - Tom McClintock (Rep). Challenger - Jennifer Morse, security expert. PVI: R+10

CA-05(N. Coast - Santa Rosa, Napa, Vallejo): Incumbent - Mike Thompson (Dem). Challenger - Anthony Mills, probably, independent. PVI: D+21

CA-06(Sacra. Valley - Sacramento, Sabre Valley, Riverside): Incumbent - Doris Matsui (Dem). LOCKOUT Secondary - Jrmar Jefferson. PVI: D+21

CA-07(Sacra. Valley - Folsom, Rancho Cordova, Elk Grove): Incumbent - Ami Bera (Dem), tight races... Challenger - Andrew Grant. PVI: D+3

CA-08(Desert - Bishop, Barstow, Needles): Incumbent - Paul Cook (Rep) LOCKOUT? Secondary - Tim Donnelly, Parkland remarks... ugh. PVI: R+9

CA-09(San Joaquin - Brentwood, Lodi, Stockton): Incumbent - Jerry McNerney (Dem). Challenger - Marla Livengood, but look at... PVI: D+8

CA-10(San Joaquin - Tracy, Modesto, Turlock): Incumbent - Jeff Denham (Rep), so vulnerable. Challenger - Josh Harder, interesting... PVI: EVEN

CA-11(Bay Area - Richmond, Concord, Danville): Incumbent - Mark DeSaulnier (Dem). Challenger - John Fitzgerald, you don’t even need to look. PVI: D+21

CA-12(Bay Area - San Francisco, Chinatown, Haight-Ashbury): Incumbent - Nancy Pelosi (Dem), you know her!. Challenger - Lisa Remmer. PVI: D+37

CA-13(Bay Area - Berkeley, Oakland, Almeida): Incumbent - Barbara Lee (Dem), one of key foreign doves in the House. NO CHALLENGERS. PVI: D+40

CA-14(Bay Area - Daly City, San Mateo, Half Moon Bay): Incumbent - Jackie Speier (Dem), Trains and Jonestown... she had a quite varied career, if I say so myself... Challenger - Christina Osmond, no need because... PVI: D+27

CA-15(Bay Area - Hayward, Dublin, Livermore): Incumbent - Eric Swalwell (Dem), he’s quite vocal. Challenger - Rudy Peters. PVI: D+20

CA-16(San Joaquin - Merced, Madera, Fresno): Incumbent - Jim Costa (Dem), chair of the Blue Dogs... Challenger - Elizabeth Heng. PVI: D+9

CA-17(Bay Area - Fremont, Sunnyvale, Santa Clara): Incumbent - Ro Khanna (Dem), rising progressive star. Challenger - Ron Cohen. PVI: D+25

CA-18(Bay Area - Palo Alto, Mountain View, Los Gatos): Incumbent - Anna Eshoo (Dem). Challenger - Christine Russell, another female. PVI: D+23

CA-19(Bay Area - San Jose, Morgan Hill, San Martin): Incumbent - Zoe Lofgren (Dem), important oversight member... NO CHALLENGERS. PVI: D+24

CA-20(Central Coast - Santa Cruz, Salinas, King City): Incumbent - Jimmy Panetta (Dem). Challenger - Ronald Kabat, independent! PVI: D+23

CA-21(San Joaquin - Coalinga, Hanford, Delano): Incumbent - David Valadao (Rep). Challenger - TJ Cox, who jumped ship from 10th? PVI: D+5

CA-22(San Joaquin - Clovis, Visalia, Tulare): Incumbent - Devin Nunes (Rep), just... ugh. He’s so bad... Challenger - Andrew Janz, he’s cool. PVI: R+8

CA-23(San Joaquin - Porterville, Bakersfield, Ridgecrest): Incumbent - Kevin McCarthy (Rep), future leader? Challenger - Tatiana Matta. PVI: R+13

CA-24(Central Coast - San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Ventura): Incumbent - Salud Carbajal (Dem), had close races... Challenger - Justin Fareed. PVI: D+7

CA-25(SoCal - Simi Valley, Santa Clarita, Palmdale): Incumbent - Steve Knight (Rep). Challenger - Katie Hill, she climbed a hill in an ad! PVI: EVEN

CA-26(SoCal - Oxnard, Fillmore, Thousand Oaks): Incumbent - Julia Brownley (Dem). Challenger - Antonio Sabato... yep. He’s done it... PVI: D+7

CA-27(SoCal - Pasadena, Arcadia, Monterey Park): Incumbent - Judy Chu (Dem). LOCKOUT Secondary - Bryan Witt, interesting margins... PVI: D+16

CA-28(SoCal - Burbank, Glendale, Flintridge): Incumbent - Adam Schiff (Dem), close in Russian scandal. Challenger - Johnny Nalbandian. PVI: D+23

CA-29(SoCal - San Fernando, Panorama City, Van Nuys): Incumbent - Tony Cardenas (Dem). Challenger - Benny Bernal, who cares? PVI: D+29

CA-30(SoCal - Northridge, Encino, Universal City): Incumbent - Brad Sherman (Dem), good records... Challenger - Mark Reed. PVI: D+18

CA-31(SoCal - Rancho Cucamonga, San Bernardino, Redlands): Incumbent - Pete Aguilar, he’s been close. Challenger - Sean Flynn PVI: D+8

CA-32(SoCal - El Monte, Covina, San Dimas): Incumbent - Grace Napolitano, she’s been working in many different areas. NO CHALLENGERS. PVI: D+17

CA-33(SoCal - Malibu, Santa Monica, Beverly Hills): Incumbent - Ted Lieu (Dem), he’s on twitter an awful lot. Challenger - Kenneth Wright. PVI: D+16

CA-34(SoCal - Highland Park, Los Angeles, Koreatown): Incumbent - Jimmy Gomez (Dem), from a special! Challenger - Kenneth Mejia, Green! PVI: D+35

CA-35(SoCal - Pomona, Ontario, Fontana): Incumbent - Norma Torres (Dem). Challenger - Christian Valentine, nothing to see here. PVI: D+19

CA-36(Desert - Palm Springs, La Quinta, Blythe): Incumbent - Raul Ruiz (Dem), this is not that close... Challenger - Kimberlin Pelzer. PVI: D+2

CA-37(SoCal - Culver City, Ladera Heights, Van Ness): Incumbent - Karen Bass (Dem), longstanding black female rep. Challenger - Ron Bassilian. PVI: D+37

CA-38(SoCal - Whittier, Norwalk, Cerritos): Incumbent - Linda Sanchez (Dem), from the senate race? Challenger - Ryan Downing. PVI: D+17

CA-39(SoCal - Fullerton, Yorba Linda, Chino Hills): Incumbent - Ed Royce (Rep) NOT RUNNING Replacement - Young Kim, he’s okay... Challenger - Gil Cisneros, he has some bad spots but he’s right for the job. PVI: EVEN

CA-40(SoCal - Huntington Park, Commerce, Downey): Incumbent - Lucille Roybal-Allard (Dem). Challenger - Rodolfo Barragan, Green! PVI: D+33

CA-41(SoCal - Riverside, Moreno Valley, Perris): Incumbent - Mark Takano (Dem), Gay and Asian. Challenger - Aja Smith. PVI: D+12

CA-42(SoCal - Corona, Menifee, Murrieta): Incumbent - Ken Calvert (Rep), he’s probably safe? Challenger - Julie Peacock, high school teacher. PVI: R+9

CA-43(SoCal - Inglewood, Hawthorne, Torrance): Incumbent - Maxine Waters (Dem), taking her time. Challenger - Omar Navarro. PVI: D+29

CA-44(SoCal - Lynwood, Compton, Carson): Incumbent - Nanette Barragan (Dem) LOCKOUT Secondary - Aja Brown... she’s not running? PVI: D+35

CA-45(SoCal - Irvine, Lake Forest, Mission Viejo): Incumbent - Mimi Walters, faltering... Challenger - Katie Porter, protege of Liz Warren? PVI: R+9

CA-46(SoCal - Anaheim, Orange, Santa Ana): Incumbent - Lou Correa (Dem), broker banker instructor. Challenger - Russell Lambert. PVI: D+15

CA-47(SoCal - Long Beach, Westminster, Avalon): Incumbent - Alan Lowenthal (Dem), calm backbencher. Challenger - John Briscoe. PVI: D+13

CA-48(SoCal - Huntington Beach, Newport Beach, Laguna Beach): Incumbent - Dana Rohrabacher (Rep), Russian stooge. Challenger - Hans Keirstead? Or Harley Rouda? Seriously, this was reason this post took so long. PVI: R+4

CA-49(SoCal - San Clemente, Oceanside, Encinitas): Incumbent - Darrell Issa (Rep) NOT RUNNING Replacement - Diane Harkey, she’s well funded. Challenger - Mike Levin, he seems like a good fit here, honestly. PVI: R+1

CA-50(SoCal - Escondido, Ramona, Lakeside): Incumbent - Duncan Hunter (Rep), he’s indicted. Challenger - Ammar Campa-Najjar, he’s fine! PVI: R+11

CA-51(Desert - Chula Vista, Imperial Beach, El Centro): Incumbent - Juan Vargas, representing the border... Challenger - Juan Hidalgo. PVI: D+22

CA-52(SoCal - Poway, La Jolla, San Diego): Incumbent - Scott Peters (Dem), filmed the sit-in back in 2016... Challenger - Omar Qudrat. PVI: D+6

CA-53(SoCal - Normal Heights, El Cajon, Paradise Hills): Incumbent - Susan Davis (Dem). Challenger - Morgan Murtaugh, she’s freaking 25? PVI: D+14

Well, I tried to keep it short. More of this coming tomorrow, hopefully.

[thepapermixtape]

Paper Trails: Museum of Jurassic Technology

By: Iris Feldman

Tucked into the middle of an otherwise uninteresting stretch of Culver City is the Museum of Jurassic Technology. If the moniker leaves you wondering why anyone would possibly care enough about jurassic technology to pay to enter such a place, don’t worry, the inside has little to do with such an esoteric subject. In fact, after two separate visits now, I’m not embarrassed to admit I’m not any closer to understanding what jurassic technology is, let alone anything concrete about it. The fun of the museum doesn’t really have anything to do with it. Everything is shrouded in a sort of mischievous mystery, and the staff plays into it. As you enter and pay ($8 for adults, $5 for children and students), the front desk attendant will ask if you’ve ever been before; if you haven’t they’ll tell you to watch the introduction video on your first left and enjoy the museum. The video purports to explain what jurassic technology is while showing the history of the museum and even the origins of natural history museums themselves, but it doesn’t really. Much of what you see as you continue into the museum has nothing to do with anything discussed in the opening footage. Instead it’s an odd mix of art installations, questionable historic displays, and obsolete scientific discoveries.

The museum itself is deceptively large. I was truthfully a little confused when my uber dropped me off and I saw the exterior. I couldn’t believe that an entire museum was hiding behind the front door, but that only added to the magic of it all. When you walk in it’s almost like stepping through time. The lighting is dim throughout and the rooms snake around one another, some connecting to other exhibits and others revealing themselves to be unexpected dead ends. It truly is a sensory experience; you’ll hear a blending of different sounds upon entering, a trickle of water, a ringing of bells, the strange snarling of an unseen dog, there’s a pervasive scent vaguely reminiscent of the pages of an old book, and throughout all this you look upon both the dazzling and the bizarre. Some of the exhibits and rooms have unlabeled mystery buttons and there’s a fun, childish anticipation in pressing them and waiting to see their unknown effects. One such button brings an entire room to life, illuminating darkened photos sequentially around the rectangular space, keeping time with a narration of the life story of an unknown 1920’s opera singer. Everything is delightfully low tech, adding to the feeling that you’ve traveled back through time. In lieu of a handheld audio device, information on certain installations is available through picking up a rotary telephone handset. Pick it up and listen to gravely recordings of miscellaneous information. Pick up the phone next to a glass case containing a large jade green beetle and listen to its low toned buzzing, pick up another and hear all about a man who attempted to build a bridge from Argentina to Brazil in the 19th century.

As much as the museum intends to teach something with it’s installations, it’s also somewhat of an homage to museums themselves. The dark rooms bring to mind the old “Cabinet of Curiosities” that we all heard of traveling from town to town in old books and movies, though with a campy twist. Enter one room and see the vaguely scientific display of an old experiment in which magnetic figures were placed in water-filled glass orbs as they rotate to supposedly spell out messages. Enter another room and look through microscopes at tiny, extremely intricate, and iridescent flowers painted on glass slides. Travel into the adjacent room dedicated entirely to the history of trailer parks, and look at a group of dimly lit dioramas. There’s even an entire exhibit centered around the idea of “vulgar” remedies, otherwise known as superstitious “cures” to strange ailments; whoever would have thought that bedwetting could be stopped by feeding children mice on toast? If you make it through all that you can go upstairs for complimentary tea and cookies, or to catch one of the hourly screenings in their theater. Also upstairs is a garden, seemingly unrelated to everything inside but beautiful nonetheless. It’s lush, green, fairly european and full of birds. In what seems like a metaphor for the museum they look like a species somewhere between a pigeon and a dove.

My advice for anyone venturing in for the first time is to check any skepticism at the door. Think a little less than you usually do, and just enjoy the experience. Also perhaps don’t share any facts you may have learned with your friends; you never really know what’s real and what’s made up.