#first we ate the grains now we give them to the animals so we can eat them and we use the byproduct for entertainment

[idkimnotreal]

dawn of man's constant low morale problem before you research the beer technology if anything is proof that indeed there is no happiness without alcohol.

[sleepysloth99]

Hey yall, I don't know if anyone knows about these games. They're called Lacey's Games. I feel like I should address a few things about it.

For those of you who don't know, Lacey's Games is an old flash game horror series about this girl, the one in the picture, named Lacey and with a series of games depicting her in various scenarios. Each scenario is similar to an early 2000s flash game made for girls such as makeup games, dress-up games, cooking games, etcetera. However, each game holds a dark lore to it. A dark lore that I will explain as gently as I can. I need to address this to give context to anyone, seeing this explaining the issue.

TW BEFORE I START EXPLAINING THE LORE:

The following contains topics that may be upsetting to some readers. Lacey's Games deals with topics such as child abuse, child SA, animal abuse, gore, body horror, stalking, and suicide. Viewers' discretion is advised.

Lacey's Games has a total of 4 games. Each game depicts Lacey, the protagionist, in a variety of scenarios with lore to it. We'll start off with Lacey's Wardrobe. In this game, Lacey has 3 places to go to. She has to go to a park for a picnic, then she has to go shopping at the mall, and lastly, she has a date with "the cutest guy." You as the player, has to help her find cute outfits to wear.

The gameplay itself is very simple. Customize Lacey however you like with shirts, pants, skirts, accessories, shoes or heels, and various hairstyles. As you go through each stage, you'll notice a man in the background standing and staring at Lacey. This is a stalker who is the same guy Lacey is supposed to date. By the end of the game, Lacey gets dressed after she begs the player not to let her out since she knows her fate. Then she is murdered and dismembered by the stalker.

The face of the stalker is shown with the description: "I ate her remains so that we will be together forever. I love you, Lacey." The game takes us back to the main screen.

Now onto the second game. Lacey's Diner. This one follows with the player helping Lacey cook a meal for the guests. If the player fails, they will find Lacey having a mental breakdown and commanding the player to give her a variety of ingredients. Each ingredient contains a disturbing entry. The ingredients are labled as:

Cigarette butts

A dead cockroach

Meth

Broken glass

Pornography

Used condom

Uncle

I won't show the image of each ingredient, but I will give you all the most of the descriptions and entries of the ingredients.

Cigarette Butts-"These moments were hard to forget because they were superglued from my heels to my thighs and not even the strongest bird beak could peck it off. the smoke tinted me in grey forever and it made me tear up so much I almost cried in front of him once. Never again."

A dead cockroach-"First they dominated the ceiling of my room. But then I started seeing them everywhere bugs and bites and dirt and ash and vomit where they shouldn't have been. They were all cloudy but crisp and very jumpy and I wanted to suck it all inside of me like a reverse frog dissection and end it all for once."

Pornography-"Face sucked by the static, the grains tickled uncle's eyes with pleasure. He was the same as me but didn't want to admit it. he lived in a world of his own where he was desirable and sensual and he got so used to his lies that he believed what the computer would whisper into his ear

The rest of the ingredients had a few entries. The broken glass talked about self mutilation, the meth had the name "Rocio" on it (keep that in mind, this'll be relevant later on.) The used condom talked in disturbing detail of child SA. Hence why I didn't want to post the transcriptions since I got extremely uncomfortable. But if anyone wants more info, they can always find it. The transcriptions I provided were copypasted from the Fandom Wiki.

The final ingredient, Uncle, shows a clip of a man showing his face. A man who is clearly supposed to be Lacey's uncle. What's interesting however, is that the clip doesn't look stylized at all. It looks like a real clip of someone was used and placed into the game. But Lacey's Diner goes deeper into Lacey's backstory where she was physically, mentally, and sexually abused by her uncle and kept in unsanitary conditions. The game ends with Lacey committing suicide after she makes the statement:

"This is all I have and the customers are hungry and unforgiving."

Someone commented on this statement on a YouTube video analyzing this game series saying: "As a woman, this hit me a lot harder."

And I can understand it. If I reflect upon my experiences with girlhood from childhood to teenagehood as well as past crime cases I have studied, it is clear to me that this quote from Lacey is a whole lot more than a server being abused by her workers. Lacey is a young girl who is being pressured to serve guests. All she has is her ingredients, the key ingredient is herself, the very embodiment of the horrors so many girls ad women are subjected to in their own homes. She is all she has, and all the clients do is take and take. If she fails to fulfill their desires for "food," she will be punished for it. Sound familiar?

I think Lacey's Diner isn't a diner. I think this is a metaphor for a girl being subjected to abuse and trying to appease her abusers in a desperate attempt to earn a living and to leave her uncle once and for all. When she serves a dish with her dead uncle in it, the restaurant closes down due to sanitary issues. But I don't think the broken glass, used condom, and other ingredients were placed for shock value. I think this was the developers' way of conveying Lacey's lore. Well, one of the developers, at least. More on that later, onto the next game.

Lacey's Petshop is the 3rd game that starts off much differently than the others. It starts off with Lacey listening to her MP3 where Grace, one of the developers of the game, is interviewed by another woman. The audio talks about Grace being unaware of the content riddled in these games until she received angry messages from parents complaining about the horrific themes their children were exposed to. Grace initially didn't believe it until she played it for herself.

At this point of the post it's worth noting that there are 2 developers. Grace, the clueless developer, and Rocio Yani. Remember the name, Rocio? Rocio is a drug used to relieve stomach aches. This name could be found in Lacey's Diner after putting the "Meth" ingredient into the bowl. Rocio isn't just the name of a medication, it's also the name of the 2nd developer. Considering how Grace didn't know what was in the games, it tells me that the developers were not on the same page with the content in Lacey's Games. In fact, it tells me that Rocio added this without Grace's knowledge. Furthermore, Grace also made remarks dismissing Rocio's odd behaviors, including her screaming and mentally breaking down while she worked on Lacey's Games. She would brush off Rocio's behaviors with "she was just crazy" or "she was weird."

The game itself shows Lacey getting pets perfected for their owners. The first owner wanted her dog washed and trimmed, the second wanted her cat's fur dyed purple, wearing red contacts, and with shades, the third wanted his bird trimmed, dyed, and wearing boots, then the fourth wanted her hampster's neck stretched out with pliers until it curved, then the fifth wanted his tortoise to have dentures so it can "smile at me," and lastly, the sixth one wanted his bunny's limbs cut off.

The game then distorts and becomes a point-and-click adventure game where you enter a distorted retelling of Lacey's childhood house. When the player steps into the dining room area, they will find pig humanoid creatures eating flowers. Presumably, the pigs symbolize her uncle, considering the fact that Lacey calls her uncle a pig. Interestingly enough, the pig creaures were eating flowers. One user online speculated that it could symbolize "deflowering" someone. Which, sadly aligns with the evidence the previous game provided. The player continues exploring the house until Lacey sits in a cage and says how "It hurts so comfortably."

This is trauma worded in the most... beautiful and authentic way possible. Coming from someone with trauma of her own, I understand the sentiment behind the sentence. The abuse Lacey faced scarred her, but it's all she's accustomed to. This is her normal. Everyone wants familiarity, that's what makes comfort. Normal is comfort. No matter the circumstances, normalcy is a sense of comfort. As a result, Lacey takes a form of comfort in the awful environment and abusive patterns she us subjected to because that is her normal. It's such a raw sentence that tells me that one of the developers, presumably Rocio, has faced this trauma. Given the fact that Grace didn't know the content Rocio added, and the mental breakdowns Rocio had that Grace previously mentioned, it appears to me that Rocio Yani made Lacey and Lacey's lore based on herself.

There was also the video clip of someone, presumably Rocio, saying in Lacey's reflection:

"These are the real girls' games. Not those lies that they tell you."

I think Rocio made all of this additional content in Lacey's Games as a way to warn young girls the dangers of girlhood. Stalking, SA, all of the things girls are subjected to and come to learn are common experiences amongst each other. I feel like Rocio put these into her games to vent about what happened to her. Which begs the question as to why I wrote this post.

I feel like with a project as sensitive as Lacey's Games, where events are so closely intertwined with real life events and are based on past experiences of the developer, we can't exactly treat Lacey's Games as a regular fandom. By that I mean, I feel like we can't ship, cosplay, edit, or make headcanons the way we can with other fandom since it's so personal.

Of course, internet's gonna internet. But what I'm saying is that we oughta be ethical and respectful to Rocio. If Grace herself doesn't even know if Rocio's alive and Rocio vanished after making all of that for Lacey, then it's clear to me that Rocio is a traumatized individual who suffered the many horrors of girlhood and projected it onto Lacey. Hence why we should really think before we post when it comes to Lacey's Games. Handle it with care. It's the least we can do for Rocio Yani. Thank you all for your time.

[i-am-hoo-iyam]

‘Yn! Look! All the kids got me and you and moon valentines!” All the kids ruched in with valentines. “Golly! So many! One at a time please”.

The first kid in line came up. “Here yn I got you dis!” It was a card with a lady in a bikini blowing a kiss. The inside said: have a sexy Valentine’s Day, you sexy wh😳re you. Yn turned to sun. “Sun I have a great activity idea for today!” “Cool! What’s that?” “Why don’t weeeee teach the younger kids to read!” Yn showed the card to sun. Sun was now red instead of yellow. “Yes thets a great wonderful amazing awesome fantastic incredible super idea that’s EXACTLY what we should do! Teach the kids to read the cards before they give them!”

“Here sun I got you a gift and moon a gift! My brother drew the smiley face inside!”

“That’s an… interesting face!” “He says their name is sinep!” “Yessssssss very interesting”. “Sunny why are you making that face?” Sun put the card down. “Okkkkk next!”

A baby toddled up and handed sun his gooey pacifier. “Oh my gosh I love it thanks so much!” Sun hugged the kid.

“Here’s a card for Andy!” Andy read it. “Happy valentines day to you… nobody likes you… you look like an animal go back to the zoo…” “you should know my father is a zookeeper and it is a fine profession! He can tame a frothing beast in five seconds and turn it into a complacent animal”.

The next kid came and threw up on sun. “I got you chocolates but I ate them by accident but then I guess I gave them back”. Yn helped sun clean up. “Thanks sunshine! Why don’t you go with moon! He can give you a medicine that will help your tummy feel better and then he can get you all nice and cozy to rest”. Moon led the kid away.

The next kid had a huge bouquet of roses and a real diamond. “My mom says it’s too keep letting me come here for free while she shops and rides in her limo”. Sun set them aside. “That’s really really nice of her! Has she let you ride in the limo before?” “Not till I’m older”. “That makes sense”.

The next couple kids got sun a teddy bear. The kid after that had a half empty Chica fizzy faz for yn and half a stick of gum for Andy. Another kid gave moon some glow in th e dark finger paint. A kid literally stopped down and picked up a hair from the ground and gave it to sun. A really little kid gave sun a candle that said ‘sticky c🫣m scent sure yo make you horny”. “My mom wowks In a sex showp! She doesn’t let me go in thow…”. This kid often came in the daycare smelling of second hand cigarette smoke. ( like he didn’t smoke but his mom did).

The best gift was the teddy bear and a jumbo box of chocolates, the worst was not the card or the candle but a kid brought his dead goldfish in. “I don’t want it anymore you can have it”. The most expensive was the diamond and another kid brought in a purebred puppy that was worth a lot of money except this one was blind and the runt. They gave it to an animal shelter. The cheapest one was the hair. The biggest was when this kids aunt did wheelies and donuts in the parking lot with her monster truck as a show for the kids. She almost crushed a junk car she towed there for fun but that’s where fazbear drew the line and made her bring both cars back home. The smallest one was this ‘interesting looking grain of sand’ this kid found on the beach.

[davidcharlotte92]

Consequences Of Our Actions – The Holy Bible’s Explanation

The choices we make, decisions we call, and actions we do all have their results or consequences. One way or another, we have to confront them and bear with the indefinite reality of whatsoever it is. In most conditions, they don’t look significant enough to us. But the more we dig in, the more we come to know how it breeds series of other actions that might completely alter, redefine, or reshape your life and the happenings in it.

We make hard choices when we are in menace or in the qualms of the tormenting times. But in that circumstances, sticking to do the right thing, be faithful to what God Almighty has asked us, and be committed to your belief, all this is not easy at all. Having a meaningful, exemplary, and inspiring life costs something more than we can even expect.

Consequences Of Our Actions – The Beginning

Consequences to our actions start back from the early days of the creation of this world. Let's eye on the example to get the best insights about it.

When our Father in Heaven, God, decides to create Adam because the inland area was barren, nothing would grow. God wanted someone to cultivate the soil and grow fields of grain and other crops. Then the Lord God erects artisan wells and causes them to rain on the land. And then, from Adam's rib, the first woman on earth was created. They lived piously in the Garden of Eden unto the serpent, craftier than the other animals, led the woman into temptation.

“Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day, God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because, on it, God rested from all the work that he had done in creation. These were the generations of the heavens and the earth when they were created, in the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens. When no bush of the field was yet in the land, and no small plant of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain on the land, and there was no man to work the ground.”

(Genesis 2: 16-17)

Before Adam and Eve begin the world they were created for, i.e., nurturing the land, they get tempted by evil and get into trouble with God for eating the prohibited fruit, its consumption God had commanded against.

“To the woman, Lord God said, 'I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor, you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."

(Genesis 3: 16)

“To Adam, our Father in Heaven said, ‘Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, you must not eat from it,' cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil, you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plans of the field. But the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground since from it you were taken; for dust you are, and to dust, you will return."

(Genesis 3: 17-19)

"The Lord God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife Eve and clothed them. And the Lord God said, 'the man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and also take from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.' So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken. After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life."

(Genesis 3: 21-24)

More About Consequences And Actions In The Holy Bible  

It is our firm belief that the Holy Bible is God’s words. So God Almighty has clearly instructed in the Holy Bible about the consequences, choices, and decisions and their actions in our lives.

In Galatians 6:7, we read,

"Do not be deceived; God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

Additionally, in Romans 6: 23,

“For the wages of sin is death.”

“For he who does wrong will receive the consequences of the wrong which he has done, and that without partiality.”

(Colossians 3: 25)

"The prudent sees the evil and hides, but the naïve go on and are punished for it."

                                                                                                (Proverbs 22: 3)

"You shall speak to the sons of Israel, saying, 'If anyone curses his God, then he will bear his sin."

                                                                                                (Leviticus 24: 15)

“But the man who is clean and is not on a journey, and yet neglects to observe the Passover, that person shall then be cut off from his people, for he did not present the offering of the Lord at its appointed time. That man will bear his sin.”

(Numbers 9: 13)

The Final Words

In a nutshell, we clearly get the instruction from the Holy Bible that to our actions, decisions, and choices, there are consequences. Thus we need to have faith in God and make our actions speak of honesty and truthfulness so that they don't become a problem for others. And thus, we will be saved from God's wrath on us.

About the Author:

'Cletus McMurtry, an exceptional and prominent author, shares the complete map that people can study in order to navigate through the complexities of their lives in his book, ‘Is That Really In The Bible?'

The author did not write the book with religious purposes but has described and elucidated the teachings, sayings, and lessons of the Holy Bible for every Christian in this world. According to him, the Holy Bible is a word of God and is the most notable and divine book to ever read and comprehend for our good. He crushed all the baseless claims of discrimination in this world and has expounded how any religious follower in this world can read the Holy Bible and get the incredible benefits from it. The author also elucidated the exceptional and unmatchable positive results in our daily lives through reading the words of God and establishing the sacred relation. 

Moreover, the writer expatiates on his real-life story and experiences and mentions God's call for maintaining close relationships with the teachings in the Holy Bible. In his life, he studied the Holy Bible like a manual to live a healthy and pious life. For readers who wish to connect with the word of God and the teachings, this book is a must-read for you.

[voiceless-terror]

And Many Happy Returns

a sequel (or companion piece) to Inseparable, my childhood friends AU. chapter 1 of 2.

“Next week?” Jon shrieks, slamming a hand down on his desk and startling the nearby students. “That’s not nearly enough time to prepare!”

Martin does that blinky-eye thing that means Jon’s being too loud, but he can’t help it! Martin’s turning eight in six days (less than a week!) and didn’t think to tell him. They’re best friends, he should know these things. He curses himself for not asking about this at the beginning of their relationship, when he was collecting Martin facts. Favorite color and book seemed more important at the time. 

And while Jon doesn’t think birthdays are that important, it’s still a fact he ought to have known. Well, his Nan doesn’t consider birthdays important. These past two birthdays he’s gotten one new (!) book and a dessert after dinner, but that’s about it. Nan doesn’t have money to spend on frivolous things, and Jon’s never needed much, but he wouldn’t mind a bit of fanfare. His mum always made sure he felt very loved- he got plenty of hugs, a fun cake, an outing where they would do his favorite things. But maybe that’s something only mums do. Nan, with her rare, stiff hugs and general stand-offishness was never one to put up much of a fuss.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Martin mutters, his pencil twitching in his hand as he refuses to meet Jon’s eyes. He doesn’t like it when Jon starts fretting about him. “We never do anything for it, anyway.”

Martin’s mum isn’t anything like Jon’s, that’s for sure. It’s not every day you turn eight. It’s a nice number, very even and divisible. Much better than boring old seven. When Jon turns eight, he’s going to get fifteen extra minutes added to his curfew, and he’ll be able to walk to the corner store all by himself. He’s already walked there several times, but it’ll be nice to have permission. That’s the real treat.

“So you’re not going to bring in cupcakes for the class?” he asks, remembering the last birthday they celebrated- it was Lydia’s, a quiet, unassuming girl that Jon doesn’t mind but also doesn’t think much about. As soon as Jon asks it, Martin gets that sad look in his eyes again, the kind that’s always followed by an “I’m sorry” or something equally nonsensical. Jon hates that he’s the cause of it, him and his stupid mouth. Think before you speak, that’s what Nan always says. She says that for most anything he talks about, though, so he takes her advice with a grain of salt.

He reaches out to pat Martin’s arm consolingly, giving him his best sympathetic head tilt. “It’s alright. I’ve never brought any in either. Just thought I’d check in case you needed help bringing them to school.” Jon’s not very good at carrying things, but for Martin he would make an attempt.

“That’s nice of you,” Martin replies, though it’s not really nice, it’s just a normal thing a friend would do. Jon’s read books about it, he ought to know. “But yeah. I don’t think Mum’s planning anything, much less making cupcakes. She’s really busy.” Martin’s always saying how busy his Mum is, but Jon’s pretty sure she doesn’t do half the things around the house that she’s supposed to. Martin already knows how to cook and make tea and do the laundry without hurting himself. It’s very admirable. The last time Jon attempted to do laundry, he flooded the cellar.

“Do you like cupcakes, though?” Jon asks, scooching closer to Martin’s desk. “Lydia’s mum brought some for her birthday, but they were all carrot cake. Blegh.” He makes an exaggerated face to get Martin to laugh. It works.

“Carrot cake’s not so bad,” Martin says, poking lightly at Jon’s hand with the eraser of his pencil. Jon flinches back dramatically, putting on his most wounded look. “You just don’t like it cause it has the word carrot in it.”

“I don’t like it cause it has actual carrots in it,” Jon sniffs, turning away from Martin to show his displeasure. He decides not to talk to him for the rest of the day, or at least until he has something else to say to him. He’s got a lot on his mind now, and he needs to be left alone with his thoughts. Besides, Martin will poke him again once he gets bored enough. 

Jon flips open the school planner that he’s never used for actual school work and starts to write. He’s got a birthday to plan, and he’s going to give Martin a Mrs. Sims birthday special.

______

It’s a Thursday, which means Martin can’t play on account of his many, many chores. Jon hates Thursdays.

But this time it works in his favor, as he’ll actually have time to plan without Martin thinking something’s up. Jon very rarely cancels on Martin; he’s his most important (and only) friend. But he does on occasion get a little mixed up. One time, he thought it was a Wednesday instead of Thursday, and wound up at Martin’s flat when he didn’t show up at the park. Martin was very nice about it, though, and gave him a cup of tea to ‘calm down’ to drink in the hallway, before he went home. Martin thinks a cup of tea is calming. It doesn’t really do much for Jon, but it is tasty, and Martin gives him extra sugar just the way he likes.

But today is most definitely a Thursday so he scurries on home, slamming the door open and screaming a greeting to Nan that goes unanswered.  She must be off at the shops, otherwise she’d be giving Jon an earful for being too loud. He kicks off his shoes and gazes at the picture of him and his mum on the wall. If his mum were here, she would know exactly what to do to make Martin’s birthday extra-special. But she’s not, and Martin’s mum seems like kind of a jerk, so it’s Jon’s responsibility. “I won’t let you down,” he solemnly tells her smiling face, and turns to take the steps two at a time.

After grabbing his planner and throwing his backpack into the corner,  he pulls out the chair to his messy homework desk, which is usually only used for doodling or writing stories or reading when he wants the activity to feel more official. He flips open his planner to next Wednesday, Martin’s birthday (!!!) and taps his pen impatiently against the page. 

What do birthdays need? Food. Presents. Happiness. The first two might be a bit difficult to pull off, considering his lack of money and cooking skills. Martin deserves a lot more than stale discount biscuits from the grocery. He can get those any day.

But a whole cake is going to be hard. If Nan won’t make one for Jon on his birthday, she most certainly won’t do it for ‘his little friend,’ even if she thinks he’s a good influence. Martin is always very quiet and polite when he sees her, and Nan always gives him a smile in return for his good manners. She doesn’t smile at Jon like that. He tamps down his jealousy and gets back to birthday thoughts.

He thinks he had a purple- or was it pink? - cake on his fifth. It saddens him that he can’t remember. He thinks he’d forget his own mother’s face if he didn’t look at it every morning and night. Memory’s fickle like that, as his Nan likes to say.

Maybe, if he’s very nice and good tonight, Nan will take him with her on the weekly shop and he can convince her to get Martin a cupcake, a good one. One that doesn’t have any carrots in it, even if Martin says they’re alright. He must like them so much because they’re orange, like his hair. Unsurprising. 

He stops wiggling in his chair and straightens his back, as if Nan can see him in his room right now. It’s good to practice, he thinks. If he can sit still all through dinner and not make a mess, she’ll come round. 

Next, an essential part of any birthday: a good present.

His mum never really showered him with gifts, but she always gave him something good, something from the heart. The last present he received - Augustus, an orange cat plushie- still sits on his bed. It’s kind of babyish to sleep with a stuffed animal at his age (or so Marcus declared during recess one day) but Jon doesn’t really care. It helps him sleep.

Unfortunately, Jon can’t buy Martin a stuffed cat. He doesn’t have much money except for what he’s found on the ground and in sofa cushions. And he’s supposed to give that to Nan if he finds it (which he does, mostly).

He could be creative. Make him something. Jon’s not very good at crafts, though. And he doesn’t have a lot of supplies. But he has almost a week to figure something out, minus the times he’s playing with Martin. Well, even then he can stare at him and hope it jogs a good idea.

Lastly, he’s got to make it the happiest, most special day he can. Martin should feel special all the time, but Jon knows how hard that is, especially when you go home and you’re lonely and it seems like you’re the least special person there is. But if Jon is very nice to him and makes the day as fun as possible, maybe he’ll be able to keep that happiness all night, even when Jon leaves. 

That’ll be the hardest part, Jon thinks. He’s not the type of person to make someone happy. Sigh in aggravation, maybe. Roll their eyes. But Martin does neither of those things, so Jon might have a chance. He’ll try and ‘tone it down,’ though. His Jon-ness can be too much at times, and he doesn’t want that to get in the way of what should be Martin’s day.

Everything’s going to be perfect. 

________

And then it’s Saturday, and Jon still doesn’t have a present for Martin. 

He somehow managed to get Nan to agree to the cupcake bit- he’d asked very politely, ate all of his dinner and didn’t spill a thing. Though he thinks it has more to do with her liking Martin. She always acts surprised when she sees him over, like she’s shocked Jon kept a friend for longer than a week. He’s not that bad. But Tuesday she promised to take him to the grocery with her, so it’s fine. One part of his plan is done.

But the present. 

Actually buying something is clearly out of the question- he already exhausted his Nan’s good will in that department. And Jon, for all his usual creativity, is plum out of ideas. He could give him one of his books, but he does that already without prompting. He doesn’t have any good toys, and Martin certainly isn’t getting his best pen, the one that glides real smoothly on the page.

“Are you alright?”

He’s been staring at Martin too long. “Of course,” Jon snaps. “I just like your shirt today, that’s all.”

Martin looks down at his worn t-shirt. It’s not Jon’s favorite, but it’s Martin’s, so he likes it. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

They’re out in the woods behind Mr. Fletchley’s house to investigate what Jon thought was an ancient ruin but just turned out to be a couple of crumbling cinder blocks. It was an incredibly disappointing find, but Martin wasn’t discouraged.

“We don’t know where they came from, or why someone dumped them here,” he reasoned, a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “What if they were stolen? What if they’re part of a...a crime, or something?”

Jon doesn’t know what crime would need a cinder block, but he intends to find out. They’ve been walking down the relatively short path (it’s not so much woods as it is a cluster of trees) and haven’t seen anything suspicious, besides a few empty wrappers and a particularly sharp stick that Jon’s been whacking against the ground. He thinks it could’ve been used as a weapon.

“What are you going to do when you’re eight?” he asks, nudging Martin in the side. He hasn’t mentioned his birthday since the first time, so he’ll be in for a real treat come Wednesday. Jon just hopes he can think of something good in time.

“Mm, I don’t know.” Martin slows down to a mosey, and Jon tries to match his strides no matter how much he wants to jump ahead. Martin’s a real ‘slow down and sniff the flowers’ type of guy. Jon’s more of a ‘run ahead and accidentally trample them’ type. “Probably the same as I’m doing now. It’s not like it’s an important age. I can’t drive or anything like that.”

“It’s a very important age!” Jon insists, though he doesn’t have much to back that up. He’s mostly just excited because it’s Martin’s very first birthday with him. “You should look forward to something.”

“I dunno, I don’t want anything to change,” Martin says, his face going a little red as he stares at the ground. “I’d just like to spend more time with you. Have fun. That kind of stuff.”

Jon blinks. “We do that now, though.”

“Yeah. It’s the best.” Martin gives him a toothy grin, the kind that Jon puts away and thinks about later when he’s at dinner with Nan or getting ready in the morning. People don’t smile at him like that, only Martin. He does it all the time when Jon tells him a good joke, or shares his food, or passes him a particularly funny doodle.

And now Jon’s got the perfect idea for a present.

part 2

[entheognosis]

Fungi are fundamental to life on earth. They are ancient, they are widespread, and they have formed partnerships with many other species. We know from the fossil record that evolution on this planet has largely been steered by two cataclysmic asteroid impacts. The first was 250 million years ago. The earth became shrouded in dust. Sunlight was cut off, and in the darkness, massive plant communities died. More than 90 percent of species disappeared. And fungi inherited the earth. Organisms that paired with fungi through natural selection were rewarded. Then the skies cleared, and light came back, and evolution continued on its course until 65 million years ago, bam! It happened again. We were hit by another asteroid, and there were more massive extinctions. That’s when the dinosaurs died out. Again, organisms that paired with fungi were rewarded. So these asteroid impacts steered life toward symbiosis with fungi: not just plants and animals, but bacteria and viruses, as well. Jensen: Can you give some examples of these partnerships? Stamets: A familiar one is lichens, which are actually a fungus and an alga growing symbiotically together. Another is “sleepy grass”: Mesoamerican ranchers realized that when their horses ate a certain type of grass, the horses basically got stoned. When scientists studied sleepy grass they found that it wasn’t the grass at all that was causing the horses to get stoned, but an endophytic fungus, meaning one that grows within a plant, in the stems and leaves. Here’s another example: At Yellowstone’s hot springs and Lassen Volcanic Park, people noticed that some grasses could survive contact with scalding hot water — up to 160 degrees. Scientists cultured these grasses in a laboratory and saw a fungus growing on them. They thought it was a contaminant, so they separated the fungus from the grass cells and tried to regrow the grass. But without the fungus the grass died at around 110 degrees. So they reintroduced this fungus and regrew the grass, and once again it survived to 160 degrees. That particular fungus, of the genus Curvularia, conveyed heat tolerance to the grass. Scientists are now looking at the possibility of getting this Curvularia to convey heat tolerance to corn, rice, and wheat, so that these grasses could be grown under drought conditions or in extremely arid environments, expanding the grain-growing regions of the world. Other researchers took a Curvularia fungus from cold storage at a culture bank and joined it with tomatoes, expecting that it would confer heat tolerance. But the tomatoes all died at 105 degrees. They discovered that the cold storage had killed a virus that wild Curvularia fungus carries within it — which was odd, since you’d think cold storage would keep the virus alive. When they reintroduced the virus back into the Curvularia cultures and then reassociated the fungus with tomato plants, the plants survived the heat. So this is a symbiosis of three organisms: a plant, a fungus, and a virus. Only together could they survive extreme conditions. These examples are just the tip of the iceberg. They show the intelligence of nature, how these different entities form partnerships to the benefit of all. Jensen: Of course this raises the question of boundaries: Is that tomato-fungus-virus one entity or three? Where does one organism stop and the other begin? Stamets: Well, humans aren’t just one organism. We are composites. Scientists label species as separate so we can communicate easily about the variety we see in nature. We need to be able to look at a tree and say it’s a Douglas fir and look at a mammal and say it’s a harbor seal. But, indeed, I speak to you as a unified composite of microbes. I guess you could say I am the “elected voice” of a microbial community. This is the way of life on our planet. It is all based on complex symbiotic relationships.

Excerpt from The Sun Magazine Mycologist Paul Stamets is interviewed by Derrick Jensen.

[cruelfeline]

Hey Feline, here's a (suprise!) non-Hordak ask for you:

You're a veterinarian, right? What can you tell me about your animal dietetic expertise as a vet? I know vets in my country have very little classes on dog/cat diets and when they do the classes are often sponsored by Certain Big Kibble Brands convincing the poor students that their dry, almost meatless kibble is The Best Choice for pets. How does that look in your country and in your college? Do you, as a vet, feel comfortable giving out dietetic advice or would you rather reccoment consulting an animal dietetic specialist?

Feel free to reply in PM if you want :)

Ah, I always enjoy animal questions!

This is a really common sort of thing that people ask about all the time, and it's a bit frustrating for vets because yes: we do get nutritional training. And no, it's not provided by food brands.

It's provided by nutritionists. Sometimes, like when we're learning about specific conditions (let's say, chronic renal insufficiency), we're taught condition-specific nutrition by experts on said condition.

Now, do those nutritionists sometime work for food brands? Absolutely. But thags because a good food brand will hire veterinary nutritionists and utilize their expertise. If a food brand doesn't have a dedicated vet nutritionist on staff, I wouldn't really recommend them.

The issue with the whole "vets are taught to feed meat-less kibble by food brands" is multi-factorial.

First, who perpetuates that myth?

The people who want to sell you more expensive, boutique pet foods.

Second, why do they say that, specifically? Rather than, say, showing you the copious research they've done to prove that their food is healthier for your pet.

Because they haven't done any research.

Pet food is a huge industry, and there's a lot of money to be made within it if you can find a niche and convince people to buy your product. But! Research, specifically well-done, live-animal research that truly tests formulas, is very expensive to do.

So many of these small companies will formulate products based upon math calculations (using research done by the bigger companies, who can afford it!), throw a bunch of nice-sounding ingredients together, and call it good. Then they will spend money on marketing, rather than factual research, to convince people to buy their products.

And it works! People stop trusting doctors, stop trusting research, and listen to the latest "homemade all natural dog food" company that tells them things that sound nice.

The thing is, this often doesn't really matter too much. Dogs are, for the most part, able to do well on a variety of diets.

Because that's the thing about dogs: by and large, they're not these obligate-carnivore, meat-eating machines. They're not cats. They're not wolves. They're animals that essentially evolved and became domesticated by living on the edges of human settlements and eating our garbage. Ancient dogs didn't receive choice cuts of meat from ancient humans. They ate scraps. They ate junk. They ate whatever. And a lot of that "whatever" was agricultural waste, often grain-based, because ancient humans were going through their agricultural revolution at the time.

This is reflected in the canine genome.

Now, that's not to say that certain breeds don't do better on higher-meat-protein diets. Northern breeds, various sled-pulling breeds, do. Again, genetics-based. And related to the fact that the humans in those regions dong really farm, they hunt. So, again: following human diet in domestication.

But most dogs that you find, day-to-day? They really are okay on many of the diets on the market. Some do better on fancy diets. Some actually do worse, getting diarrhea from the high protein. Others need hypo-allergenic, lab-made diets because of how severe their food allergies are.

It all depends on the individual dog, but again: generally speaking, dogs are adaptable. And they don't require what many of those boutique brands say they do.

Now! An example of what can sometimes go wrong.

Back in the summer of 2018, there were a bunch of dogs that ended up with what appeared to be a nutritional dilated cardiomyopathy. Some died. Others returned to health when they were taken off of their grain-free, exotic ingredient boutique diets (which is how docs knew it wasn't genetic; there's no cure for genetic DCM).

And this sort of showed an issue you can run into with these non-research based diets: if you don't do studies to see how your formula behaves in an actual live animal, you may end up using a mix of ingredients that sound very nice, but they don't allow appropriate nutrient absorption and utilization. In this case, it seemed that the high proportion of pulses and legumes in some diets caused problems in some dogs.

So you get dogs eating great-sounding diets whose hearts fail because they can't absorb taurine from those diets. Yet, when placed back on the "dry, almost meatless kibble," they recovered.

As a vet, I feel very comfortable advising people to pick a diet that is complete, balanced, and well-tested. There are many diets that fit those criteria.

What I generally refer out to a veterinary nutritionists is people who want to make homemade diets for their animals: that requires very specific knowledge and is best handled by a veterinarian who is board-certified in nutrition.

Now, as far as cats go: most cat-savvy vets will tell you that high protein/fat, low carb, wet food is best for kitties. Short, sweet, simple. Still needs to be balanced and tested, but that's the usual cat-vet recommendation nowadays. Not food-manufacturer recommendation. Vet recommendation.

Which is, again, were we tend to get our info! Fellow vets who specialize in nutrition.

[wack-ashimself]

From a friend:

𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗠𝗜𝗫𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗪𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚?

The most underutilized and “slept on science” in health is proper food combinations. I see so-called “health gurus” posting pictures of totally wrong food combos, and it’s very revealing to see who knows what they’re talking about and who doesn’t.

The pancreas is responsible for putting out enzymes that break down our food. However, not all enzymes are created equal. In other words, the enzymes needed to break down an apple is different than the enzymes needed to break down flesh. When we combine foods, it confuses the body, which will manifest into an unhealthy gut.

We are the only animals on earth that combine food. There is no lion eating a gazelle, with rice on the side. Humans screwed this up. I call it the “Thanksgiving Syndrome.” This is where we pile loads of different foods on our plate and spend the next two hours confusing our body, as it tries to break down our abominations.

There are two terms you need to have an understanding of:

1. Fermentation

2. Putrefaction

Both of these terms mean decaying or rotting. Fermentation has to do with the decaying of sugar, and putrefaction has to do with the decaying of protein. Both processes will lead to parasites, bad bacteria, and candida.

The 3 Food Combination Rules:

1. Always eat your fruit alone (unless dried like raisins).

2. Don’t mix protein with starches.

3. Greens can go with both protein or starches.

I don’t know who came up with the fruit salad, but it’s pretty ignorant. If a gorilla comes across a banana tree, it’s eating a ton of bananas—it’s not mixing with blueberries.

Never mix your fruit (unless emulsified aka predigested. IE – a smoothie), especially melons. Melons are so light and soft, they slip right into your intestines from the stomach. But if you block the passage-way with another food, you’re going to ferment that melon in your stomach. All you have to do is scan Facebook or Instagram, and you will see “health gurus” posting pictures of fruit salads with melons mixed with other foods.

What else happens during fermentation? Yep, it creates alcohol. I remember my teacher, Robert Morse, ND, telling us a story in class about a guy who ate oatmeal and watermelon as he was rushing to get to his destination. He got pulled over for speeding and was arrested for a DUI because his alcohol level was too high. That’s because the body went for the melons, leaving the oatmeal behind to turn into alcohol. Beer is fermented grains, right?

As for putrefaction, starches are long chains of carbon, such as potatoes, breads, or grains. Protein and carbs require their own specific digestive ferment, or enzymes. Being that your body wants sugar (carbon), it’s going to digest that first. That leaves the flesh left behind to rot or putrefy. It’s very similar to road kill.

Note: Knowing this information, isn’t it eye opening that America is obsessed with sandwiches, burgers, and pizza? All three “foods” are starches mixed with protein. Food for thought.

So, because of the dead road kill rotting inside of you or the fermenting sugar, you now contain a combination of roundworms, tapeworms, pinworms, whipworms, hookworms, etc. These living organisms that are living inside of you tend to make you hungrier because they are eating your food too. They tend to feed off of your red blood cells, causing anemia. Some tend to lay eggs, which can cause itching and irritability. They tend to give you chronic diarrhea due to your body attempting to cleanse itself. And they also tend to weaken your immune system so you get sick more often.

When we detox someone, the first thing we do is deworm them. Get inside that gut with certain fruits and herbs to get those unwanted organisms out. Once that is done, then we can start correcting the acidic environment. You see, without the presence of material to embed themselves in, many intestinal parasites will not be able to thrive.

- Dr. Kevin Reese

Thank you Karen Lee

[ab1tofsp1ce]

A Warmer Refuge

Chapter 5: Do You Trust Me?

Masterlist HERE

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.4K

Warnings: Violence, mild sexual harassment.

Description: If you want to get this ship fixed, you and the Mandalorian are going to have to make a deal that could put your safety in jeopardy - do you trust him?

The clouds had mostly cleared by the morning, and I found myself apologizing countless times for setting back our journey. Graciously, he reassured me that it was fine, but the pang of guilt ate away at my chest for the rest of the day. So, I decided that I would do the best damn repair job he had ever seen. I would work my ass off making sure his ship was perfect at as little extra cost to him as possible – this would be the only way I could make it right. Additionally, I tried my absolute best not to alert him towards how much pain I was in. It actually seemed to be working, as he seemed to have no cognizance of the pain I was in. I supposed for someone who deals with violence for a living, he had probably suffered a million injuries far worse than mine, and so I caulked up his indifference to this as opposed to my brilliant acting skills; I could barely hold back my moans and groans as we climbed up and over that mountain. Finally, the trees become sparser, and soon we left the forest behind us. We trekked through fields, most of which seemed to be untouched, but distantly I could see smoke rising in small puffs. We eventually came across a gravel road that seemed to separate the wild from the colonized; on the other side were well-kept fields of strange fruit trees and neatly plowed dirt. We stopped for a moment as we reached the road, the Mandalorian looking down at the small navigation device in the forearm of his suit while I took a moment to catch my breath. I’d definitely seen better days. It was fortunate I hadn’t had too much of a chance to look at my appearance, because I’m sure I wouldn’t have liked what I saw. Much of my clothing, particularly around my injured leg, was ripped or stained, and I was almost certain I still had grease on my face from my hasty repair work a couple of days ago. The small stream that banked the side of the road and the tended fields beckoned to me, and so while the Mandalorian busied himself, I went over and kneeled down at its edge to scoop up some water and splash my face down. It was freezing and fresh, reminding me again of the beauty of this planet. I took a moment to feel the mild sun on my back and the cool water drip down my chin, before standing up and turning back to the Mandalorian. “Before we go,” he said, when I reached him, “I want you to carry this.” Out of his utility belt he pulled a rather sharp dagger. It was nothing flashy, except for the way it shone in the afternoon sun, but it pricked something in my heart. “I – I wouldn’t know how to use it,” I admitted timidly. “Are you sure?” He held it out to me in the flat of his palm. “It would bring me some comfort,” he admitted, and so I took it. “Here,” he said, reaching down to my belt. My heart skipped a beat as he attached a sheath for me to keep it in. “Hide it. It will be the most useful if no one knows you have it.” I nodded, carefully sliding the dagger in.

We walked in relative silence, as we had for most of the day. But, unlike it was when we first met, it was a far more comfortable silence. A mutual understanding, of sorts, that we both had things we wished to mull over in our thoughts. I could only guess what he was thinking – he was still a mystery to me. But I thought about my plans on Kistern; where I would go, what I would… in truth, there wasn’t much use. I tried, desperately, over the whole course of the day to consider my plans. But I knew so little about the planet I would soon call home it was futile to try and pretend I did. I hated the uncertainty of my life at the moment (and of the past year), but I distracted myself by admiring the view around me and focusing on what I could manage in the near future; fixing this ship and getting off this planet in one piece. The sun was getting low in the afternoon sky by the time the once empty land began to become sparsely populated. But none of this planet’s loveliness could’ve prepared me for meeting its inhabitants. They were very similar to those back home on Yak’ish Temeen, in that they were a motley population of various races and species, but all equally unsettling. Roadside stalls and derelict houses intermittently spotted the side of the road, and we soon gained some unintentional company as more roads and paths began to diverge onto ours. By comparison to Yak’ish Temeen this was, on reflection, a far more diverse crowd – strange, large furry creatures towered over us, shepherding small and equally hairy creatures transporting goods on their backs, a group of Gungans manned a small cart of strange smelling purple fruit and humans at all wore equally unsettling expressions. They stared at us as we walked, glowering from a distance and occasionally whispering to each other. The Mandalorian must have noticed this, as he slowed down very suddenly to close the distance between us. “Walk near me,” he said quietly, not turning his head. “And don’t make eye contact. We’re not looking for trouble.” I slid my eyes down to the ground, trying to ignore the sensation of being watched. I felt my heart race in my chest. Eventually, we seemed to enter the settlement, marked by a higher density of houses and people. It was mostly one long street, flanked by various stalls selling strangely roasted animals, buckets of grains and other odd goods. Despite the fact I could hear children laughing in the distance, and that the general chatter of the place seemed civil, I followed the Mandalorian’s advice and stuck close by him. Although this was a new place to both of us, he walked with a confidence and direction that made him look like a seasoned local. By comparison, I was almost certain I looked frail and timid, shuffling along and intently staring at the ground. In times like this I was once again grateful for my peripheral vision. The Mandalorian veered off our straight course over to a stall on the right side of the road, where a man was talking to an Artiodac, both sitting on chairs under the cover of a low-hanging tarp. Under it and behind them I noticed a long table covered in various mechanical parts – all of which, I must admit, didn’t seem to be in the best condition. The Mandalorian conversed with the duo, who exchanged glances between each other, the Mandalorian and me. I shuffled uncomfortably under the weight of their stares, so I busied myself by trailing my eyes over the parts in the stall, scanning for anything I might be able to use. From this distance I could make out few bits that could be relevant – whether or not they were in usable condition was another question entirely. My heart stopped beating for a second, jumping out of my chest in shock as I felt a hand grab my arm gently. But it was just the Mandalorian, who was now facing in the opposite direction of me and the vendors as if to better prevent them from hearing what he was saying to me. “We’ll have to get the parts from here,” he said in a low, hushed tone. The baritone depth of his voice sent chills down my back. “Fill your bag with them. But don’t take long – I don’t trust these guys. Or anyone here.” I threw a glance at them; the man was murmuring something to his Artiodac colleague, both staring at us with dirty looks. I nodded in silent agreement with the Mandalorian, my arm still tingling as his grasp lingered on it, firm but tender. He let me get to work, scavenging through the piles of spare parts. As I did, he alternated between examining the pieces I presented to him and watching both the vendors and the general public. I tried my best not to let this creeping feeling disturb me, but it was hard to focus when I was acutely aware of the attraction we were drawing. I filled up my rucksack with the pieces we needed – although some of them were far rattier than I would’ve preferred, I figured it was better to clean and adjust them back at the safety of the ship than make any sort of complaint about it here. After about 20 minutes, I felt that I had truly ransacked the selection for all it was worth. What I had managed to collect wasn’t ideal, but I could definitely make it work, at least enough that we could get off this planet and to Kistern safely. Once I had informed the Mandalorian of this, he escorted me over to the two vendors. The human male gave me a look up and down, making me shuffle slightly – there was something almost hungry in his expression. He looked only a few years older than me and certainly didn’t look to be the muscle of the duo, but between his rugged facial hair and beady blue eyes, he felt threatening enough. Perhaps the Mandalorian saw this too, because he stepped forward rather pointedly, almost sizing up the man as he stood up. “Hand over the goods, lovely,” he said with a slick tongue. “Let’s see what you’ve picked out.” Turns out I didn’t need to hand over anything, as the Artiodac snatched the bag out of my hand with a low growl. “Watch it,” breathed the Mandalorian threateningly at him. The Artiodac took no notice, rummaging through my rucksack and conversing with the man in a foreign language as he occasionally gestured to certain parts. They seemed to be negotiating with each other, with the man occasionally spatting something at the Artiodac, who grumbled something back rather animatedly in return. Eventually, they seemed to come to an agreement, as they both turned back to me in unison. “You’ve got a good load here,” said the man, shifting his eyes slowly from me to the Mandalorian. “We’ve agreed it’ll set you back four thousand credits.” He exchanged a smirk with his colleague. “You’re overcharging,” said the Mandalorian in a gruff tone, which I could read as ‘I don’t have four thousand credits.’ “I can give you three thousand, no more.” The man raised an eyebrow, clearly bemused, and turned to the Artiodac to swap a few remarks in another language before turning back to him. “My friend and I agree four thousand is more than fair for a purchase of this size. However,” his gaze slid back over to me. “We’d be willing to compromise if you have something to offer that can… sweeten the deal.” The Mandalorian stiffened, seemingly understanding the implication of this statement. “Like what?” “My friend here,” said the man, shifting his weight to face me slightly, “is curious about what a Grat’anarian is doing in these parts. You see, he knows Yak’ish Temeen well, been there on a few business trips haven’t you, Uulog?” Uulog made a slurping sound as a reply. I shivered. “What’s your point?” The Mandalorian almost growled these words. “Well, if I’m correct, this one has a great bounty on her head… what with her refugee status, she has free entry onto all sorts of planets… planets me and my friend here, as well as many others, would love to gain access to. So, I’ll tell you what, you –” “I’m not bartering with her life,” said the Mandalorian, stepping even closer and slipping a hand silently onto his blaster. Uulog the Artiodac seemed to notice, as he reached for his blaster in the exact same manner, snarling. The man feigned a sympathetic smile, although the corners of his mouth remained sinisterly twisted. “Of course, of course! Such a pretty thing, I can understand how you wouldn’t want to part with her…” He looked at me and licked his lips. “However, I’m really not sure what else you have to offer that we’ll be interested in. Well, apart from…” he gestured with the silent tilt of his head to the Mandalorian himself. For a moment I was confused as to what he meant, but clearly the Mandalorian wasn’t, and his next words cleared it up. “My armor is not for sale.” “Hmm… what a shame. Well, then, neither are these parts.” The man studied the Mandalorian as if he knew this wouldn’t be the end of it; he was waiting for a better offer. The Mandalorian seemed stuck for a moment, and I could almost hear the cogs and wheels turning in his head. “Give us a moment,” he said to the man, who dismissed us in gratuitously generous gesture. Once again, the Mandalorian slipped his hand around my arm and escorted me to the side, shooting one last look at the vendors before turning to me. I could feel his gaze under the helmet and could sense his uncertainty. He had a plan, and I wasn’t going to like it. “Do you trust me?” I was taken aback dramatically by this question. My eyes, which had been trained in apprehension on the two conversing men, swiveled back to the Mandalorian in mild shock. His voice was almost a whisper, but I could once again hear what he was really saying – almost everything he said had another meaning, as I’d come to learn. I suppose a man of few words had to make the most of them. So, when he said, “do you trust me,” all I heard was “are you ready?” And despite my fear, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach, despite the hairs rising on the back of my neck and every instinct in my body telling me to run, I knew my answer to both questions. “Yes.” “Then play along,” he said quietly. We spared a moment, a split second to look at each other. I felt him squeeze my arm lightly, a small gesture that did a surprising amount to quell the rapid beating of my heart. Then, he turned back and walked over to the vendors. “Well, have we come to an agreement?” The man clapped his hands together enthusiastically, switching his gaze between the two of us. “You can take her,” said the Mandalorian. I’ll admit, I didn’t really have to feign shock at this statement. I knew, with the context of what he had just told me, that he wasn’t being serious, but his tone when he said it – so unbothered and emotionless – it fooled me for the few seconds it took to regain my senses. “What?!” I said, and he grabbed my arm with a force I was yet to feel from him, yanking me as if I was a bounty of his. “Ahh… an interesting development… I’m curious, what made you decide this?” The man’s voice was laced with civil suspicion; he seemed to find it hard to believe the Mandalorian would give me up so quickly. “Well, as you said,” said the Mandalorian, “she’s a very valuable bounty. But I need to get off this planet, so you can have her if that’s your price.” His grip tightened around my arm, and I took this as a silent signal; ‘you’ll have to sell this narrative’. “You bastard!” I yelled, and rather convincingly too. “You – you promised you’d help me! Over there you said – I’ll kill you!” I thrashed against his grip, but before I knew it, he was behind me, one hand tying mine together quickly with handcuffs and the other covering my mouth with his gloved hand. I knew this wasn’t the time or the place, but I couldn’t help my heart flutter at the feeling of my back pressed against the cold beskar breastplate behind me. The man’s smirk turned into a full grin, clearly entertained by our performances. “I have to say, you have not disappointed your reputation, Mandalorian. Cold both inside and out…” “There’s one condition,” said the Mandalorian, his hand still over my mouth. “I need her to repair my ship. You come with me, she repairs it, and then I’ll be on my way.” Once again, the two vendors exchanged brief and heated words in their language, before the man turned back to us. “You have yourself a deal. And, since we reached it so… amicably, I’m prepared to lower the credit portion of your price to just two thousand. As a symbol of… goodwill.” He smiled, that same twist at the corners of his mouth. I felt the Mandalorian nod in agreement behind me, and the Artiodac handed him back the rucksack, which he took with his now spare hand. “Perfect! Now, where is this ship of yours?” The Mandalorian slid his hand slowly off my mouth, faking a threatening glower at me before gesturing at the tall mountain we had recently climbed, which now loomed distantly behind the two men. Both of them turned around in unison, and the man made a sound of familiar acknowledgment. “Ahh, yes! The mountain of Pelesus! An important monument in Utaran history. I assume you hiked your way here, yes? Well, we do not mind in the slightest to give you a ride there… it would be in the best interest of all parties involved, no?” “Lead the way,” said the Mandalorian in return.

We were led further down the road before deviating off it and into what I can only describe as a shanty town, which proved this outpost was far bigger than we had initially noticed. Handmade lean-tos and shacks were piled haphazardly around, only making small alleys as paths between them. It was a strange and drastic contrast – the one between the beautiful, lush and rugged landscape around us with the squalors we were being led through. I wondered how this place could be so poor if it were so abundant with natural resources, and I sensed that something more sinister was probably at play on this planet. The man switched between conversing with the Artiodac in a hushed, foreign tongue to occasionally making cheery remarks to the Mandalorian, as if he were a tour guide showing us around the glorious city of Theed. Eventually, we made it to what almost appeared to be a junkyard on the outskirts of the town, where we were led to a landspeeder. “Wait aboard,” said the man, whose name we had learned on our walk over to be Raggard. I thought I may have a moment alone to ask the Mandalorian something, but the Artiodac stayed with us as we climbed onto the large and rusty landspeeder, eyeing us pointedly the entire time. I watched discreetly as Raggard waved over a few people who had been sitting around nearby and spoke to them in the same foreign language he had spoken to his colleague in. By the way they looked over Raggard’s shoulder at me hungrily, I could only assume they believed they would be getting their fair share of my worth when we returned. Which we wouldn’t, of course. I looked over at the Mandalorian, who sat next to me. He seemed unreadable at this moment, still as a statue and paying attention to nothing in particular. I hoped he knew what he was doing, because I certainly didn’t. His words, ‘do you trust me’, echoed distantly in my ears.

Soon we were off, the four of us in the landspeeder. The journey was only a few hours, and by far shorter than our hike here, but felt agonizingly long as I sat with anticipation and fear in the pit of my stomach. Finally, we arrived at the bottom of the other side of the mountain, and I could almost see the ship as I looked up its slope. We hiked the rest of the way up, the Mandalorian guiding me with a gentle hold on my arm, as my hands were still cuffed. Eventually, we reached the ship, by which time it was almost sunset. “You’d best get working,” said Raggard, walking slowly around the ship to admire it. “It’s clear you’ve got a lot of work to do before it gets dark.” As I collected and sorted the parts, I noticed the Artiodac grumble something at Raggard, who hissed something back in what seemed to be a low, yet heated argument. I tried to ignore it, focusing on my repairs and working as quickly as possible; the sooner we could do this, the sooner we could leave. The Mandalorian helped with repairs but no matter where we went, either inside or out of the ship, one or both of the duo followed us. Because of this, I had not a moment alone with him to ask what his plan was, although I had a strong feeling it would involve violence. Finally, not long after dark, we completed the repairs. The Mandalorian escorted me out of the ship to meet outside with the two men. I began to get nervous. “Well,” said Raggard, approaching us as we were followed out by the Artiodac. “It has been a pleasure, really. But I suppose now is the time to part ways.” The Mandalorian said nothing but didn’t let go of his grip on my arm – if anything, he tightened it. “It is a shame,” said Raggard, poetically, “that you must part ways with such a precious bounty.” He walked up to me, too close for my liking, reading over my face with a gleam in his eyes. “But I’m sure you’ll take comfort in knowing she’ll be of great use to us.” With a dirty, spindly finger he traced a line down the side of my cheek. I shuddered and bit down hard on my tongue to hide my disgust. “However,” he said, “although she will prove a most valuable asset, I just can’t stop thinking about that beautiful beskar armor of yours, I mean, how did you get it?” The Mandalorian didn’t indulge him with a response, but Raggard took his silence as one. “I know, I know, secrets of the Mandalorians. It has been exciting, really, to do business with you. But,” he said, slowly, exchanging a glance with his partner, “it will be even more exciting to kill you.” In the course of the next three seconds, I barely had time to do anything but fall to the ground in shock. As Raggard said these last words, the Mandalorian drew his blaster and simultaneously threw me to the ground. He shot over Raggard’s shoulder, and it was only then, when I looked up, that I noticed the figures drawing in from the forest around us. The men from back at the junkyard began firing at the Mandalorian, and from my position cowering on the ground I watched as he, one by one, meticulously shot them down. He didn’t even seem to look at them, he just knew where they were. When the Artiodac pounced it him from behind, I screamed in shock, but the Mandalorian shook him off in forward-roll drop to the ground, shooting him with a blaster shot straight to the head. I didn’t see what happened in the next few seconds and only heard the Mandalorian grunting as he spared in hand-to-hand combat with a few more goonies who had seemed to close the distance towards him. I was yanked up off the ground, and felt a cold blaster dig into my lower back, freezing me in fear as another arm wrapped around my throat tightly. I could feel Raggard’s hot breath on my neck and smell the sweat on his arm. I scrambled desperately at it, trying to pull it away so I could breathe, but it was no use. “STOP!” Raggard’s voice was shrill in my ear. My vision unclouded at last, and I was able to see the Mandalorian, standing only a few feet away from us, bodies sprawled around him. He turned to us, still holding his blaster in one hand and what appeared to be a spear in the other. “Let’s not – let’s not let this get more out of hand than it already is,” said Raggard, panting violently. I could feel him shaking with adrenaline. “I wouldn’t want anything nasty to come of this pretty little thing, but if we get too ahead of ourselves, I may have no choice.” But as he spoke, something strange happened. I felt the world fall away, and the sound of Raggard’s voice, the clench is arm had around my throat, the blaster in my back… I lost all sense that they were there. I felt my arms release from Raggard’s, falling to my side. Even though he was wearing a helmet, I knew he was looking at me. I could feel it, like I always did, the warmth of his gaze that, for once, seemed to slow down my heart as opposed to speeding it up. Right now, I could only feel him. Him, and… At my side, I slipped my hand into the folds of my shirt. In one swift movement, I unsheathed the dagger and plunged it into the arm that was so tightly constricting my throat. Raggard let out a yelp of pain, letting me go as he stumbled back. “Onto the ship!” The Mandalorian yelled, and I wasted no time scrambling aboard. Outside, I heard blaster shots and scuffling, but I didn’t give myself time to reflect on it. I ascended the ladder into the cockpit and, without even sitting down, began to start up the ship. My hands were shaking violently, and I tried so hard to keep my focus on the buttons I was pressing and not my concerns for the Mandalorian. Before I initiated take off, I almost jumped back down into the hull and watched in astonishment as the Mandalorian strode up the ramp, sheathing his blaster and spear in the process. With no hesitation he went right past me and into the cockpit, and only seconds later I felt the whole ship shake underneath me as we rose up from the ground and away from it all.

[write-it-right-2]

Let's talk about God.

Let's talk about faith, and belief, and all the things I meant to be and never let myself say. 

And I know no one is going to see this, and I know even if I post this there's next to no chance it'll be seen, but it needs to be said and I need to say it.

Let's talk about God.

-

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth. He made the sky, and the sea, and everything reflected in either of those. He made every plant and every animal, everything that creeps or crawls or flys, spoke every line and dot of it into existence simply with His words. And He looked at it, and said that it was good.

And then He made man, made humanity, out of dust that he shaped with His hands and that He brought to life with the breath He breathed, made man in the image of Him, and He said that it was very good. 

And man, and Adam, one, singular, named, was in the garden, and there was Eve, then, as well, and it was two, them, in the garden with God.

And there was nothing they were forbad from, nothing they may not do, but for one rule.

Do not eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, God said, For the day you do so, you will die.

And then there was satan, and he said look, at how good the fruit is to eat. God lied, you will not die. you will become like God.

And they looked, Adam and Eve. And they looked, humanity, and they saw it was ripe, and they ate.

And so then, man and woman, Adam and Eve. And so then Humanity knew sin.

And God came, and saw them, and knew what they had done.

And Man and Woman, Adam and Eve, were cast from the Garden of Eden for their sin, and God cursed them and blessed them in the same statements.

Cursed them, for sin, and blessed them, in the promise of There will be an end.

You are not meant to toil forever.

And man, and woman, Humanity, spread out across the lands, as far as far could be, and they were kind and they were cruel and they sinned, and they wanted to be like God. And humanity stared up at the stars and said i will go there. i will show i am a god.

And they could not. Because humanity is many things, we are stubborn and bold and petty and scared and a million more beside, but we are not God. We were never meant to be God.

They followed false gods, dead things made of wood or stone or clay, and as lifeless as the hearts of those who made them. They followed them, these people mean only ever to love and be loved, followed them and made wars and death and horrid, awful things in the names of these dead and lifeless gods.

Made wars and death and horrid, awful things in the name of the Living God.

And God brought earth low, wiped out all but a remnant, wiped out all but Noah, the last of those who cared, wiped out all but Noah and those who would believe him.

And then there was Abram, and he followed God, and he worshipped Him. 

And God said I will give you as many children as there are grains of sand in the desert, or stars in the sky.

And He named him Abraham, to mean the promise made.

And from Abraham, came the Jews. 

Humanity said i want to be like God.

And so God said Fine.

And here are my Laws. This is what it means to be God, and you must not break one, or surely you will die.

Each law, a line of intent, something that could be kept mixed with something that could never be done.

Each line, possible, but never all. Humanity could never be all.

And the Jews said Yes, we will do these, because they were a prideful people, and they did so, until they forgot once more and God sent His prophets, to show the Jews each line and tittle, each broken vow that they no longer knew they had broken.

And again, they said Yes, we will do these.

And they did so, until they forgot once more.

And there was so much, so very, very much else. There were wars and deaths and loves and the constant, endless want of people trying and failing and never quite knowing what to do, never quite knowing or being what they wanted to be. 

There was so very much else.

People scared, and people who followed God until they followed something else, because God said Ask. Whatever you want to know, ask me and I will tell you.

Other gods asked for much simpler things. Other gods told much less difficult truths.

But there was David.

And David read, and he learned, and he was not afraid.

When he and his troops needed food, when he was at a temple for the Lord and they asked him if he and his men were Clean, for if they were not they would die to eat the bread as many had before - as so many had because our God may be kind but He has always drawn lines with as much strength as those who cross them - 

When David was asked, he said yes. Because he had read, and he knew and understood.

And humanity may be killed for breaking the Law, but it was Man who first asked if to kill. It was not God who chose to not forgive.

And the law was not meant to tell humanity how to be God.

It was meant to show that humanity is many things - we are brave and cowardly and cruel and wise, stubborn and foolish and sometimes even kind - but we are not God.

We are never God.

-

God is real.

This is the tenet I live by.

God is real.

That is the force of my awaking and the gentle whisper of my sleep, and it will not change nor falter, no matter what I may face. 

This is the truth and the blood of my life, and I will live no other. 

God sent his son to save us. His son, the Son, who is God Himself as well, one of the three that is All.

God sent his Son.

And His name was Jesus, as God said He was to be named. 

Jesus, the messiah, as all his followers called him.

Jesus, a dead man on a stick, as many others call him.

The Jews and their head priests said Do to others as they do to you.

Jesus said, Treat others as you wish to be treated.

and As you judge others, so you will be judged.

and Give Ceaser that which is his, but give God that which is His.

and If you are so much as angry at you family without cause, it is like you have murdered them.

He said that humanity could never fulfill the Law.

He said, in those words and so many others, that here and now, the Law was done.

Gospel means Good News, and nothing could be better.

Because under the law, humanity, male and female, old and young - under the law, they died.

But God said the Law would stand until one came who could fulfill it, and Jesus came, the Son, and He fulfilled it and more.

And here He asks for no great feats, no perfect actions, no insatiable courses of trying and failing to fulfill a role that no mortal could ever rise to - except for one.

Humility.

And isn't that the greatest feat of all?

He asks for this:

First, acceptance.

We are not perfect. We never were, we were never meant to be. We can not judge others, for we are all as bad at the rest. There are no worse sins. There is just sin, and not. We are born in sin. There is no not, for us.

Second, repentance. Even if - Even if. Always. Oh God, forgive me, for I have sinned. Say it like you mean it, because you mean it.

Third. Show it.

What good does it do you or any other, if you take this seed that has grown in your heart, and you lock it in the dark, never to be seen? 

What good does it do you, if you take the forgiveness the God always has and always will show you, and you show it to no other?

What good does it do you, if you believe in the Lord with all you heart but never let words of such pass by your lips? 

If you are hunted, if you are scarred, if such words will lead to your death, are you willing to speak them still?

-

I do not have much. I am scared, and shaking, and always so much a coward, but I have these words that build up and cut in me until I am brave enough to say them, and I have the fragile breaking hope of a crushed flower, locked in a dark and sunless box until, here and now, I let them spill out because the Lord has told me again and again that this is what I am meant to do. It calls to me and fills me with the thought of such fear and joy. I do not want to do this, I am scared to like a shaking blossom, but I know I must because I could not live with myself if I do not speak these words, if I do not let them be heard, even if it is only once, even if no one else cares.

I must. I could not bear myself otherwise.

[ithisatanytime]

Vegetables are fucking bullshit. im not gonna proofread this, but if you want to lose weight this is literally the only thing besides surgery that will work and its not even hard at all i promise, this was not inspired by me being disgusted with fat women, as everybody knows im down with the thickness. not fat though, there is a wider range for men then women believe, but i guess they are mostly just trying to compete with each other (i dont actually believe this for a second, it is for men its just a subconscious instinct, manifesting consciously as a desire to compete or look good) i added this long as disclaimer because this is a lifelong interest of mine, i always talk about it, but i dont want some poor girl to read it and think i want her to go on a diet you are beautiful just as you are, but at the same time i didnt want past relationship girls to see me saying i was down with the thickness and think they were heavy, only one was heavy

  Dont get me wrong, i like vegetables, but they are honest to god a fucking scam. vegetables are CHEAP, especially grains and cerials, to be honest grains are less bullshit than leafy greens, but they are still kind of bullshit. you are made of fucking meat, thats what you are, all the stuff you need or pretty damn close, is found in meat, vegetables are mostly insoluble fiber, very low in calories, which despite what you have been led to believe is not a good thing. its nice to have a little roughage in your diet, but the idea that we should be eating primarily plant based food is fucking insane, and i suspect is a result of the sugar companies years long propaganda campaign against fat. for years they funded studies claming dietary fat or cholesterol caused fat to accumulate on the body, and cholesterol in the arteries, we have known since the seventies that these claims were false, but the propaganda campaign was so extensive, even doctors commonly fuck this up. you cant digest plants on your own, you need to recruit gut bacteria to ferment it in your bowels, in other words it rots in your guts making you bloated and gassy, all for just a tiny bit of calories, its ASS, because no one can live that way, your diet is failing because you arent eating enough meat. meat is food, its real food. no fucking animal would go through the trouble of evolving the necessary intelligence and hardware needed to have to KILL every single meal, if it wasnt so much better than the fucking grass and leaves that are everywhere, and grass is much easier to catch and kill than a gazelle,so why bother? because the gazelle is food, its made of the same building blocks you are, you are made of meat.

   Meat is much more readily digested in your body than plant matter, people think that meat constipates you and ive seen people say it sits in your gut for years, the opposite is true, meat is digested quickly and efficiently leaving behind almost no waste material whatsoever, meaning you arent pooping because you arent making poop, meat is digested almost completely where as plant matter is filled with fiber which passes through either completely unchanged or only mildly changed into a gel like substance in the case of soluble fiber.  but heres the real MEAT of this post (heh) fats and proteins from animal sources (meat) are far more satiating than carbs from plants, meaning a hundred calories of animal fats and’/proteins will keep you full for longer, than a hundred calories of carbs, and i can prove it, a boneless skinless chicken breast has 284 calories (very little fat but high in protein) thats less total calories than two cans of mountain dew, how long do you think you could last after eating a chicken breast vs drinking two mountain dews? there are 250 calories in a new york strip steak, thats less than two potatoes, i bet you could last all day if you ate a new york strip steak for breakfast, a potato and a half without butter or anything? you would crash by noon.

 Vitamins are fucking bullshit. as long as you get micronutrients into your body at some point, meaning you arent a third worlder who eats nothing but one kind of cheap food, you are getting vitamins, all of them, most of them and guess what, meat has literally all of the required vitamins your body needs in abundance, so long as you occasionally eat liver. but it hardly fucking matters, almost no one in the first world is seriously deficient in micronutrients (the vitamin d thing is bullshit, they miscalculated the requirements or there is some racial factor they refuse to aknowlege, because if fucking everyone is d3 deficient and doing just fine, then no one is. also d3 is found ONLY in animals, not in plants) its all about macro-nutrients FAT PROTEIN carbs, you are eating too much carbs, if you try to stop eating so much carbs you are going to fuck it up, i promise you, your body keeps track EVERY DAY, trying to maintain homeostasis, you will take one extra bite, you will measure your portions wrong, you will eat a whole goddamn cake because you are starving, your body is better at counting calories than you will ever be. so heres what you do, DONT TRY, if you have to try you will fail, you are working too goddamn hard, be realistic with yourself, a temporary diet is actually fucking meaningless, diets are for life. you cant sustain that horrible dumb ass bulshit girl magazines are trying to make you live on, NO ONE CAN, less than 6 percent of people who have lost significant amounts of weight will keep the weight off after a year. who the fuck knows after that as well, other than its certainly less than six percent. i am giving you the cheat code right now, all you have to do is take my word for it, do i seem like i spent years obsessing over this shit? because i have, heres the secret. all you have to do, nothing more, if you try to do more you are fucking up! all you have to do, is take your body weight, divide it by two, and try to get that many grams of protein per day, like your life depended on it, preferably from MEAT. preferably with fat! but honestly i dont fucking care. tbh if you are a girl, id shoot four 40-50 grams everyday, and heres the thing, please! do not go for lowfat, lean meats. you want meat with fat on it, preferably unprocessed, you can still eat hamburgers and sausages but dont make them the center piece of your diet, because they actually add fats in as part of the processing, you can stil leat it though, if you try to get your 40 grams of protein from lean meat like chicken breast alone, you will go crazy and quit, or you will just eat a bunch of carbs to make up for it. again, you want fat and protein. if for the next two months, you made it your goal to eat whatever the fuck you wanted (this is important) so long as you got 40 grams of protein a day, preferably from animal sources, preferably with fat, i promise you, not only will you lose weight like fucking crazy, but it wont even be hard at all, you will feel like you are fucking gorging yourself while slowly getting hotter. that being said, to us men, being hyper thin is not really all its cracked up to be, thats gay fashion designer shit, we like women to be soft, to contrast are hard muscular bodies.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

To Be So Lonely Harry Styles au pair AU-

Chapter 3

Another Day Till Paradise

HI! Thanks for reading, to @chasm2018​, for brainstorming, @papiermachecat​ for the catalyst, and @dirtystyles​ and @emulateharry​ for the read through!

Enjoy!

"Just one more set of notes to go over and I get to put this case away forever! And we get to go to Malibu!" Vee sing-songed into the phone. Harry's  chuckle was in key with her happiness.

"It's a long time coming, I know." She could imagine his fond smile. "You've been working hard for months."

"Months and months." She stretched long and groaned a little.

"You tired?" He asked. "You were up before Maribel and out the house."

"I am, but also really restless. I was so excited about putting this one to bed, I wasn't able to sleep much myself." She started to get her auto dictating stuff together. She usually typed things, but she was feeling the 12 hours she'd been up and knew the words would blur. She'd do it like this and have her assistant proof and file. She was ready to go home. That meant she needed to get off the phone. "What are the babies doing?" She asked instead.

"Oh, well, they are thrashing about in their cribs." She heard him move the monitor. "Looks like Bel is up and staring at Teo, willing him awake."

"Seems late for them to sleep." Since they dropped to one nap it was just after lunch until 2:30.

"We had that date with Jameson's nanny from playgroup, remember? They are on a slightly later schedule, so I fed them and then had them walk the short distance home."

"How did you do that?" Her mind boggled trying to picture it, she was sure her eyes goggled too.

He laughed. "I alternated. One by hand, the other on my hip, and when one started whining while the other started to drop off, I switched them." God, he was strong.

"Nice." Vee really should go.

"Yeah it worked a treat. You done typing the brief? when will you be home?" She heard him click off the monitor. "Teo is more than stirring now."

"Um," she'd be about done had she either got off the phone to dictate or typed it while they spoke. She opened a doc and started typing. She may be tired, but this was faster. "Give me a half an hour."

"Need to let me go?" She kinda did. He was walking, his breath was a little faster.

"No, put me on speaker and let me talk to the babies. We can wake them together." She heard a cry.

"Oh no need to wake them. But mamas voice may quiet them." She put her own phone on speaker and talked with Teo while she heard Harry with Maribel in the background.

She'd be jealous she wasn't there except she would be for the next two weeks. Harry had a friend in LA, a wealthy one (she'd have to ask about that), who had offered his beach house. She'd been bandying about vacation ideas when Harry's face brightened in that way he had. His ideas were usually brilliant, and he told great stories, though usually his tales of their day revealed more about himself than any direct question she had asked him. When she asked about him, he'd shrug and go over his CV. Born in the north of England, divorced parents, amazing mum, lovely sister, moved to the states to do his doctorate, couldn't keep up with the expense, was in sabbatical to earn some money to finish.

Those were all pleasant facts, except the divorce, his face scrunched like bitter lemon on that tidbit, but they weren't really about him. The thing she knew, were from observation, or his long asides.

He liked his coffee black but his tea strong and sweet, and only from a pot, not a bag. His favorite meal was breakfast and he ate it at all times of the day and night. Once she'd found him making pancakes at 2:30 am. "Couldn't sleep, and it's always a good time for pancakes," he'd grinned. "Try it." So she'd sat at the breakfast bar and been a good student of anytime breakfast. He also liked to grab cold pancakes as a snack, as did her babies now. "I use the whole grain mix and put in eggs, so they get protein." He'd looked for approval.

He looked for her approval a lot. She wasn't sure if he was trying to keep her involved, was being polite, or really was unsure. Harry's ideas and ways were nearly always A+.

He had asked for approval on the Malibu idea. And he'd told the story in that meandering way of his. Vee, how she'd come to think of herself since he adopted the nickname, usually left with more information about him, and less about whatever the actual topic.

The day they'd been talking about vacation ideas was a perfect example. Harry had been sitting across from her with that sweet little cock to his head he got when she was talking at length. It might be the first time in her life she felt like somebody listened to her and really liked it. Her mama did too, now, but when she was little her mama had been so tired. She worked too hard, too much, and too many jobs. Mama was tired when she got home, and she never had the money or paid time off for a vacation. Because of that, all that scarification, Vee did.

"I should be done with this case at month ends I think I'd really like to go somewhere, relax, play with the babies, sleep in."

Harry laughed. "Vacation with the twins means you won't be getting to sleep in much."

"Not if you come with us." She raised her eyebrows at him. He deserved a vacation too. He'd been working a lot right along with her. She'd paid him extra, but wanted to do more, and there was the other benefit. "Then we can switch off days, I'll keep them most nights, but maybe you can keep them a few mornings?" She hoped he liked the idea, or maybe he would like to just have the time off to see friends, or maybe even go home. "If you want too." She tried to take the pressure off, scale back the hope in her eyes.

"I think that vacation sounds amazing!" His dimples were so huge, she liked that they showed sometimes even when he wasn't smiling. He was now. "What kind of vacation were you thinking, mountains, beach, big city? Driving or flying?"

He was about to keep going when she cut him off. He might start talking about his favorite vacation when he was 12, or something, and entertaining as that time in Portugal may have been, it wasn't germane to the moment.

"I would actually just love to get out of the city, but still have city amenities. Beaches, and laying around, with nice food and hiking, but not an all inclusive. Ya know. And sunsets. I'd really love some devastating sunsets." She missed heat too. "Somewhere warm. And flying. But not too far. And no layovers. Not with Beli and Teo."

Harry had straightened up in his chair and smiled with flashing eyebrows. He'd put a finger up while he stood before disappearing into a room. He came back 15 min later with the same light on his face stirred together with a bit of triumph.

"I have the perfect vacation for us!" He grabbed the barstool he'd vacated with one dinner plated sized hand and sat across from her. Then leaned in with his chin on his fist. "Have you ever been to LA?"

Victoria wasn't able to school her face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But there are some really amazing things to do and see there, if you avoid the star walk and such." She'd not been to the star wall. She'd been there for a conference and hadn't seen much but the walls of it, and the immediate area in downtown LA. She hadn't been impressed.

"How'd you know so much about LA?" It was on the other side of the world after all, from the place that imprinted on his voice.

"Oh, I have family, although I guess more close family friends there," he stopped to puzzle over the tree and its branches. "Yeah, just my dad's old college mate, not actually blood relations, though I called him uncle my whole life. Anyway, I wasn't sure where I wanted to go for my post grad. I talked to myself about the requisite places in England. But Oxford and Cambridge seem so stuffy."

"And Harvard isn't stuffy?" She'd gone to Brown.

He had a goofy snicker sometimes. It might be her favorite flavor of his laugh. "Not nearly as cool as Brown. Who went there?" He rapped his chin. "Oh JFK Jr! That's right. Who else?"

There was a list but she just narrowed her eyes.

"Anyway. The opposite of stuffy seemed like California. So I decided that Stanford might be nice. So I called my 'uncle' in LA to see if I could stay with him and commute to school or something."

Vee giggled.

"Ya, I had no idea how big California was. I guess I figured it was like San Francisco, Stanford. LA. Three hours tops, make a tour, see the sights, catch the vibe," he mimicked a surfboard and she lost it.

She was full out laughing by now. His hand illustrations and the little literal hop, skip, and a jump he performed before that. He should go to Disneyland too with that level of animation. "Did your uncle teach you different?"

"Well, no, like kinda. He mostly just was excited to have me. But we went to his house on the beach in Malibu first and then drove to Stanford. Which was beautiful. Up the coast."

"Isn't that like 12 hours?"

"Like 10, I dunno, forever, but we stopped in Monterey. That was nice. And beachfront. By the time we got to Palo Alto, which means high stick by the way, that's a weird name for a town, I was disappointed. The weather was way better in Malibu. Also I had imagined Stanford was waterfront."

"It's not far. The whole state can't be on the ocean."

"Think my expectations were ruinous. I had no idea how big the place was. But, it wasn't what I had in my mind." He shrugged.

"And Boston was." That was the puzzle. It was cold here, and definitely not postcard beaches.

"Well, it's waterfront."

"Do you do much swimming?" She asked.

"I had it in my mind to go abroad by then, and  Boston seemed to have shit weather like home."

"Shittier." Vee flashed her palms like that was a given. There was more to this story, something she wasn't getting.

"Oh, Texas has better?" Harry derailed her and got up to move behind her in the kitchen. He was grabbing food now. Oooh, nap snack time. She loved when he did this. It was like an informal nosh, so different from the stuffy steak lunches at work when she had to go to client things.

How the hell did he pull together a bruschetta bar so quickly? "Made it last night." He answered her face. "Had a craving, made loads." She'd been around the office late again Friday evening, but only two more weeks until the case officially ended. Her part anyway. But she answered his cheek while she loaded up a toast point.

"Claro, San Antonio at least. Houston's a bit shit, Dallas gets cold, and hellishly hot—"

"Isn't San Antonio really hot?" He interrupted.

"Yeah, but it's a little drier, and there are hills and Austin is close, and it's just better. Certainly than Boston." She sighed. Sometimes she missed how big the sky was and that the clouds looked like cartoons.

"You'll have to show me." She'd like to. The house that built her. That was like the only country song she liked.

She smiled and nodded looking. "Yeah, sometime, you can come to when we go we abuelita. But, much as I love my mother, that's not a vacation exactly."

"Right." He nodded along. "So I just called James, my pseudo uncle, and they are going home for a month. He said we could use his beach house...." Harry's eyebrows  were as high as they could go, floating on hope.

"I only have two weeks."

"Yeah, that's enough, you'll be missing the east-coast-no-bullshit by then. Everybody is fake happy and nice in California." He sounded like he was standing behind a lectern.

"Like you." She felt the need to remind him. He was the happiest person she knew.  But she knew a lot of lawyers.

"Oh, mine's not fake." He shook his head.

That was true. He really was just ridiculously nice.

"But it has its perks. Last time I was there, I found this smoothie shop, amazing wheatgrass shots, and they have a vegan restaurant." he responded to her face, again. He read her like a favorite book. "When in Malibu, Vee." His smile required an answer and a question.

"What the fuck is wheatgrass?"

"You just cursed!" He covered the speaker of the monitor.

She smirked, "That's so we can hear them, not them us, tonto."

"Did you just curse again, but in Spanish?!" He made his offended face. "You def need some California vibes and lots of wheatgrass to detox that liver. All that anger!" He was s shaking his head.

"What my what? None of what you just said makes any sense." She was giggling.

"I dunno, I'm making it up, based on what I can remember about how the guy got me to drink juiced grass. He said anger lives in the liver or the pancreas or some such. But it was good! The grass, kinda. And I felt good and my skin glowed after a few days of it."

His skin always glowed.

He misunderstood her incredulity. "You'll see! We can try some—"

"I'm not drinking grass, like I never ate mud pies." Victoria insisted, shaking her head at him, but carefully keeping her elbow against him. His had come to rest against her a moment ago. He was warm. It was hard for her to find the right temperature. She didn't have that trouble when they were adjacent.

"It's a thing. A Malibu thing, guaranteed to chill you out." That phrase sounded weird and wonderful in his accent. "All we need is flights, a car, everybody drives there, and bathing suits!" He picked up his phone. "Where do they have bathing suits right now? It's outta season."

The snow was black and melting. They may get one more blanket, or not. It was technically spring, just not in Boston.

"Target, it's almost Spring break." She reminded.

The corners of his lips turned down and she cocked her head to the side. She needed to look at his timeline. He seemed to really want to go back to school. She'd miss him dearly, but maybe they could work something out. Maybe she could hire somebody else for when he was in class and studying?

His brow cleared and brightened with an idea. "Wanna go pick stuff out while they finish their nap? Then we can meet you at the green. I'll bundle them up."

She checked her weather app. "Layers, the actual sun may come out!" She was already putting on her purse.

Vee had essentially been packing since that day, little by little. Well, shopping was probably a better word for it. She bought her first mum suit, and tried not to think much about it. Her old suits still fit, or fit again, just not like they used to, and her stomach had new pink welts, like veins of cotton candy, down the sides. She supposed there was nothing to be done about it, two humans had lived in there for a time. That had to leave a mark, right?

She still packed her old high cut black one piece. It looked good and she felt great in it. Victoria caught herself wondering what Harry would think of it before she switched her focus to the babies' suitcase. Like that mattered.

This mattered. Traveling with small children required stuff.

She'd been shopping for Teo and Bel as well. Who knew that resort wear for near toddlers were so adorable? There were a few pieces she knew would be super frustrating, long dress style things, cover ups she supposed.  She just wasn't sure what a baby needed to cover up. But it was so damn cute she'd bought it. There was a little voice in her head that said the inhibited movement may be worth the squalling near a pool. And what a pool it was.

More like an oasis from Harr's pictures. The lush greenery around the deck was like ivy, made it private from the beach the stairs led to. There was a gate, so the kiddos couldn't fall down the path or into the foliage, and the lounge chairs looked so plush, they made her want to nap immediately. "The fabric is moisture wicking, so you don't really need a towel." Harry had told her. She felt like it was made so you could swim naked, all the privacy screens and no need for linens. Not that anybody would be doing that. Small children and platonic nanny relationships and all.

Hmm.

But the moonlight glinting off crystal blue water and the night lighting of the pool were ethereal. Still took the swimmer to a new place it looked like, but instead the island oasis of the day, it was more a fairy hill, where magic things happened.

Magic.

She missed magic. She wasn't sure she'd ever really had it. The ex, well they'd had some good days, hanging out on quads and dancing late into the night. But, they'd gone straight to law school, then to a firm. There hadn't been much frolicking. Even their honeymoon had been serious, a tour of St. Petersburg and Poland. It was his dream trip, but some of the things they saw killed the libido. There were certainly no fairy lights or naked swimming.

Had she ever skinny dipped? That seemed like something that should have happened, and she was too old now to add it to her bucket list.

Was she too old?

Maybe it was time to start dating. She felt lonely. And was thinking about Harry in weird ways. She supposed it was just that they were going to a beautiful place that could be romantic. They made good friends, partners really, but he was younger, and they maybe flirted a tiny bit sometimes, but there was nothing romantic. He was just the nearest male. She needed some attention maybe. She hadn't in ages.

Victoria imagined kissing someone, a faceless someone, on one of the loungers, after a delicious midnight dip, of the thin variety. Wet lips and cool skin, hot breath. The feel on long fingers on both sides of her cheeks holding her still to deepen the kiss. The slide and wiggle of a rough tongue along her top mouth. Vee could feel the plump bottom lip  she imagined, and the broad back under her hands as she was rolled under most of the 60's, if the dates on his shoulders were a timeline.  The v of the back to a slim waist against her palms as they slid over skin beaded with cool water, and strong thighs with bits of text and fauna etched against the crux of her. She stood and defiantly closed the zipper.

That got oddly specific .

She needed to go on a date. But, obviously, after they got back from Malibu. Could she make up an excuse to leave the kids with Harry one day and meet with someone at the four seasons? Could she swipe right? She didn't think so. She'd just book a massage instead. The reviews there were amazing.

The knock startled her attention away from her suitcase. The door was open, the knock was courtesy.

"Hey, Harry!" She brightened her voice and smoothed her hair. For a moment, she thought about avoiding eye contact, but that would be a tell. She never did that. Especially not in court--a good suit and strong eye contact were good armor. He'd know something was up, she just had to pretend she wasn't just thinking of him on top of her or a liaison with a random to distract her from it. "You packed?"

"Yeah, did it during nap time today. Thought I'd see if you wanted help with the twins' bags?"

"No, gracias." Ohhh she was distracted. "I did them mostly yesterday, just got together the things that came today."

"And you are done?"

She fidgeted with the zipper her hand was still on, looked at it, so she didn't have to be staring into his eyes anymore. Eye contact was good, until it was eye fucking. She didn't want to get caught there, and her mind was still under the moon. "Yes!"

"It's easy to pack when everything is new huh?" His voice was lined with laughter. His teasing voice; she loved when she caught him talking to the littles in it. The dimples pressed into his voice and his cheeks.

"I put a few older things in there." She was looking in his eyes again. The smile was there too, and in her answering grin.

"Swimsuits, a dress or two you don't intend to wear?" He guessed expertly.

"How do you know that."

"Sister, mum." He shrugged. "But, since you're done, nightcap?"

It was only 9 pm, but their flight was ungodly early, so the kiddos would hopefully sleep until the airport, and they could get a full day on top of travel. "No, a melatonin is probably a better idea. Thanks though." Wine or anything like it, was a bad idea. Red wine made her languorous and chatty. Nope. And horny, which she was already battling, for the first time in a good while.

"Ok, see you before the sun."

"Yes, what a way to start the day!" She felt lame. That was lame, right? But he giggled.

"Oh yeah, I usually like it from the other side more."

"I used to, when you get to be my age, you'll see."

He rolled his eyes, but they had had this discussion before. "Sleep well, Victoria."

He didn't really call her that. She liked the way the syllables rolled off his tongue.

She needed that melatonin. No thinking about his tongue. Anymore thinking about his tongue. She'd need the moon medicine and to meditate, or something, to sleep.

In the end, meditating turned into masturbating, and she slept like a baby, for longer than she had in two months thanks to the case. She was thankful, the flight was hell. They were delayed, their early flight for baby sleep plan backfired, and they didn't make it to the beach house until sundown. And the kids were already sleeping as it was almost their bed time by their internal clocks.

She wished she could pretend she had jet lag, or she was tired at all. Instead, she was shaking from all the coffee she had consumed. Harry, too. They both drank iced coffee the way you were supposed to drink water.

They'd put the babies in the appointed room, where their hosts had put a lovely crib for them. It was only a minute to get the pack and play up. They'd have to alternate nights, seemed fair, though the babies would never know.

She watched them for a second. Two years ago, in the throes of a dying marriage, she'd have never imagined this life, this new life.

Part of that was Harry, he was a godsend. They had  dealt with the rough travel day together, baby switches and breaks included.

Apart from the shakes from all the iced coffee he kept producing, she could not fault him. He'd make somebody a great partner one day.

"Victoria?" She heard and followed the voice. The house was a good size, but not so large she couldn't hear him, and most of the place had a fantastic view.

The view outside was way better than the pictures. The sun was going down and the sunset started like cotton candy, there was a widening purple streak, and from the stairs down to the desk she could see the sun sinking into the ocean. It looked like it went on forever. It stole her breath.

Here sense was taken as well, because the view on the deck was better, Harry was stood between two of the plush deck chairs she had dreamed of and had fantasies about. He had two glasses of champagne, and was backlit by the sunset.

The worst of it, was that he was shirtless.

"Dios mio!" she exclaimed.

"Right," he opened his arms and turned around. His back was broader than she imagined. "Could this view be more gorgeous?

No, no it couldn't.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

19th September >> Mass Readings (USA)

Saturday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time 

    or 

Saint Januarius, Bishop, Martyr 

    or 

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Saturday, Twenty Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading

1 Corinthians 15:35-37, 42-49

It is sown corruptible; it is raised incorruptible.

Brothers and sisters: Someone may say, “How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come back?”

You fool! What you sow is not brought to life unless it dies. And what you sow is not the body that is to be but a bare kernel of wheat, perhaps, or of some other kind.

So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown corruptible; it is raised incorruptible. It is sown dishonorable; it is raised glorious. It is sown weak; it is raised powerful. It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual one.

So, too, it is written, “The first man, Adam, became a living being,” the last Adam a life-giving spirit. But the spiritual was not first; rather the natural and then the spiritual. The first man was from the earth, earthly; the second man, from heaven. As was the earthly one, so also are the earthly, and as is the heavenly one, so also are the heavenly. Just as we have borne the image of the earthly one, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly one.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 56:10c-12, 13-14

R/ I will walk in the presence of God, in the light of the living.

Now I know that God is with me.

In God, in whose promise I glory,

in God I trust without fear;

what can flesh do against me?

R/ I will walk in the presence of God, in the light of the living.

I am bound, O God, by vows to you;

your thank offerings I will fulfill.

For you have rescued me from death,

my feet, too, from stumbling;

that I may walk before God in the light of the living.

R/ I will walk in the presence of God, in the light of the living.

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 8:15

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are they who have kept the word with a generous heart

and yield a harvest through perseverance.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

Luke 8:4-15

As for the seed that fell on rich soil, they are the ones who embrace the word and bear much fruit through perseverance.

When a large crowd gathered, with people from one town after another journeying to Jesus, he spoke in a parable. “A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path and was trampled, and the birds of the sky ate it up. Some seed fell on rocky ground, and when it grew, it withered for lack of moisture. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew with it and choked it. And some seed fell on good soil, and when it grew, it produced fruit a hundredfold.” After saying this, he called out, “Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.”

Then his disciples asked him what the meaning of this parable might be. He answered, “Knowledge of the mysteries of the Kingdom of God has been granted to you; but to the rest, they are made known through parables so that they may look but not see, and hear but not understand.

“This is the meaning of the parable. The seed is the word of God. Those on the path are the ones who have heard, but the Devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts that they may not believe and be saved. Those on rocky ground are the ones who, when they hear, receive the word with joy, but they have no root; they believe only for a time and fall away in time of temptation. As for the seed that fell among thorns, they are the ones who have heard, but as they go along, they are choked by the anxieties and riches and pleasures of life, and they fail to produce mature fruit. But as for the seed that fell on rich soil, they are the ones who, when they have heard the word, embrace it with a generous and good heart, and bear fruit through perseverance.”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

——————————-

Saint Januarius, Bishop, Martyr 

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Hebrews 10:32-36

You endured a great contest of suffering.

Brothers and sisters: Remember the days past when, after you had been enlightened, you endured a great contest of suffering. At times you were publicly exposed to abuse and affliction; at other times you associated yourselves with those so treated. You even joined in the sufferings of those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, knowing that you had a better and lasting possession. Therefore, do not throw away your confidence; it will have great recompense. You need endurance to do the will of God and receive what he has promised.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 126:1bc-2ab, 2cd-3, 4-5, 6

Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

When the Lord brought back the captives of Zion,

we were like men dreaming.

Then our mouth was filled with laughter,

and our tongue with rejoicing.

Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

Then they said among the nations,

“The Lord has done great things for them.”

The Lord has done great things for us;

we are glad indeed.

Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord,

like the torrents in the southern desert.

Those who sow in tears

shall reap rejoicing.

Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

Although they go forth weeping,

carrying the seed to be sown,

They shall come back rejoicing,

carrying their sheaves.

Those who sow in tears shall reap rejoicing.

Gospel Acclamation

James 1:12

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed is the man who perseveres in temptation,

for when he has been proved he will receive the crown of life.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel

John 12:24-26

If a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it produces much fruit.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.”

——————————

Saturday memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary 

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Saturday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

Genesis 3:9-15, 20

I will put enmity between your offspring and the offspring of the woman.

After the man, Adam, had eaten of the tree, the Lord God called to the man and asked him, “Where are you?” He answered, “I heard you in the garden; but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself.” Then he asked, “Who told you that you were naked? You have eaten, then, from the tree of which I had forbidden you to eat!” The man replied, “The woman whom you put here with me– she gave me fruit from the tree, and so I ate it.” The Lord God then asked the woman, “Why did you do such a thing?” The woman answered, “The serpent tricked me into it, so I ate it.”

Then the Lord God said to the serpent:

“Because you have done this, you shall be banned

from all the animals

and from all the wild creatures;

On your belly shall you crawl,

and dirt shall you eat

all the days of your life.

I will put enmity between you and the woman,

and between your offspring and hers;

He will strike at your head,

while you strike at his heel.”

The man called his wife Eve, because she became the mother of all the living.

Responsorial Psalm

1 Samuel 2:1, 4-5, 6-7, 8abcd

My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“My heart exults in the Lord,

my horn is exalted in my God.

I have swallowed up my enemies;

I rejoice in my victory.”

My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“The bows of the mighty are broken,

while the tottering gird on strength.

The well-fed hire themselves out for bread,

while the hungry batten on spoil.

The barren wife bears seven sons,

while the mother of many languishes.”

My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“The Lord puts to death and gives life;

he casts down to the nether world;

he raises up again.

The Lord makes poor and makes rich,

he humbles, he also exalts.”

My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

“He raises the needy from the dust;

from the dung heap he lifts up the poor,

To seat them with nobles

and make a glorious throne their heritage.”

My heart exults in the Lord, my Savior.

Gospel Acclamation

see Luke 1:28

Alleluia, alleluia.

Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you;

blessed are you among women.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

see Luke 1:45

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary, who believed

that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

see Luke 2:19

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed is the Virgin Mary who kept the word of God

and pondered it in her heart.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Luke 11:28

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are those who hear the word of God

and observe it.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, holy Virgin Mary, deserving of all praise;

from you rose the sun of justice, Christ our God.

Alleluia, alleluia.

Or:

Alleluia, alleluia.

Blessed are you, O Virgin Mary;

without dying you won the martyr’s crown

beneath the Cross of the Lord.

Alleluia, alleluia.

EITHER:

Gospel

Matthew 1:1-16, 18-23

For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

Abraham became the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers. Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar. Perez became the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram the father of Amminadab. Amminadab became the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab. Boaz became the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth. Obed became the father of Jesse, Jesse the father of David the king.

David became the father of Solomon, whose mother had been the wife of Uriah. Solomon became the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asaph. Asaph became the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Uzziah. Uzziah became the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah. Hezekiah became the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amos, Amos the father of Josiah. Josiah became the father of Jechoniah and his brothers at the time of the Babylonian exile.

After the Babylonian exile, Jechoniah became the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel the father of Abiud. Abiud became the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor the father of Zadok. Zadok became the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud the father of Eleazar. Eleazar became the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.

Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.”

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 1:18-23

For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.

This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about. When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found with child through the Holy Spirit. Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly. Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:

Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,

and they shall name him Emmanuel,

which means “God is with us.”

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

Take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt.

When the magi had departed, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, and stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him.” Joseph rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed for Egypt. He stayed there until the death of Herod, that what the Lord had said through the prophet might be fulfilled, Out of Egypt I called my son.

When Herod had died, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Rise, take the child and his mother and go to the land of Israel, for those who sought the child’s life are dead.” He rose, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go back there. And because he had been warned in a dream, he departed for the region of Galilee. He went and dwelt in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, He shall be called a Nazorean.

OR:

Gospel

Matthew 12:46-50

Stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, here are my mother and my brothers.

While Jesus was speaking to the crowds, his mother and his brothers appeared outside, wishing to speak with him. Someone told him, “Your mother and your brothers are standing outside, asking to speak with you.” But he said in reply to the one who told him, “Who is my mother? Who are my brothers?” And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my heavenly Father is my brother, and sister, and mother.”

OR:

Gospel

Luke 1:26-38

Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son.

The angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his Kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 1:39-47

Blessed is she who believed.

Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, cried out in a loud voice and said, “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy. Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

And Mary said:

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;

my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:1-14

She gave birth to her firstborn son.

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:

“Glory to God in the highest

and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:15b-19

Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.

The shepherds said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:27-35

You yourself a sword will pierce.

Simeon came in the Spirit into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus to perform the custom of the law in regard to him, he took him into his arms and blessed God, saying:

“Lord, now let your servant go in peace;

your word has been fulfilled;

my own eyes have seen the salvation

which you prepared in the sight of every people:

a light to reveal you to the nations

and the glory of your people Israel.”

The child’s father and mother were amazed at what was said about him; and Simeon blessed them and said to Mary his mother, “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted and you yourself a sword will pierce so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

OR:

Gospel

Luke 2:41-52

Your father and I have been looking for you.

Each year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the feast of Passover, and when he was twelve years old, they went up according to festival custom. After they had completed its days, as they were returning, the boy Jesus remained behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Thinking that he was in the caravan, they journeyed for a day and looked for him among their relatives and acquaintances, but not finding him, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions, and all who heard him were astounded at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished, and his mother said to him, “Son, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.” And he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced in wisdom and age and favor before God and man.

OR:

Gospel

Luke 11:27-28

Blessed is the womb that carried you.

While Jesus was speaking, a woman from the crowd called out and said to him, “Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you nursed.” He replied, “Rather, blessed are those who hear the word of God and observe it.”

OR:

Gospel

John 2:1-11

The mother of Jesus was there.

There was a wedding in Cana at Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” And Jesus said to her, “Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.” His mother said to the servers, “Do whatever he tells you.” Now there were six stone water jars there for Jewish ceremonial washings, each holding twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim. Then he told them, “Draw some out now and take it to the headwaiter.” So they took it. And when the headwaiter tasted the water that had become wine, without knowing where it came from although the servers who had drawn the water knew, the headwaiter called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves good wine first, and then when people have drunk freely, an inferior one; but you have kept the good wine until now.” Jesus did this as the beginning of his signs in Cana in Galilee and so revealed his glory, and his disciples began to believe in him.

OR:

Gospel

John 19:25-27

Behold, your son. Behold, your mother.

Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

[things2mustdo]

“If civilization had been left in female hands we would still be living in grass huts.” – Camille Paglia

The Book of Genesis has a warning to men and to civilizations. People typically only focus on certain phrases in the Genesis account and thus, miss the warning. God’s pronouncement of judgement upon Adam and Eve actually tells us some of the problems that will beset men and women and thus, civilization. The Genesis story contains a warning for men and women, individually and nationally. The Book of Genesis established an order, God’s order.

Most people are at least vaguely familiar with the account in the Garden of Eden. However, the details about the expulsion provide more information about one of the continuing events between men and women that would occur after Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the garden.

Genesis chapter one gives the entire creation account. Mankind is created in chapter one and told to multiply and replenish the earth. The following chapters in Genesis provide additional critical information about mankind and the outcome of certain events. Adam was created first and no suitable mate existed for Adam to fulfill the commandment of multiplying his own kind. God created Eve, not out of the Earth as in the case of Adam, but out of Adam himself. Eve was a reflection of Adam.

The Serpent’s Lie of Equality

After Adam and Eve partook of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil at the prompting of the beguiling serpent, God came to the Garden of Eden and decreed judgement. The King James Translation is a good translation but many English speakers have a limited knowledge of the definitions of the English language and are typically too lazy to consider additional meanings. The word “desire” in the KJV text is a word that has additional meanings. The following translation from the NLT provides additional clarification.

“Then he said to the woman, “I will sharpen the pain of your pregnancy, and in pain you will give birth. And you will desire to control your husband, but he will rule over you.” Genesis 3:16, NLT

And to the man he said, “Since you listened to your wife and ate from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat, the ground is cursed because of you. All your life you will struggle to scratch a living from it. It will grow thorns and thistles for you, though you will eat of its grains. By the sweat of your brow will you have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made. For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return.” Genesis 3:17-19, NLT

The phrase “and you will desire to control your husband” is translated as “and thy desire shall be to thy husband” in the KJV. While the word desire certainly means that a woman will long for her husband, the word “desire” also means to desire something to control it and to have power over it. The second meaning is clarified by the clause, “and he shall rule over thee”. This clause tells us something about the nature of women that people, neglect, forget, overlook, or disbelieve. The desire of women to control men.

The Bible does not provide the conversation that took place between Adam and Eve concerning the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. We know a conversation took place with the intention of convincing Adam to partake of the fruit. God’s statement to Adam makes clear there was a conversation. “Since you listened to your wife and ate from the tree whose fruit I commanded you not to eat.” Adam knew the commandment but still partook of the fruit.

Part of the lie the serpent told Eve is that she would be equal to God. Another part of the lie is that she would be happier having more power. The idea that men and women are equal is the same lies told differently. Men and women have different God-given roles. Adam was placed into the Garden to cultivate it and keep it. Eve was created after Adam was placed into the Garden. The populists would have us believe that Adam had no dominion over Eve and that they were “equals”. Eve was provided to Adam so the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth could be fulfilled and to assist him.

Adam named the animals and he named Eve. Naming is an act of dominion. Adam was given dominion over the earth, the animals, and Eve. Part of Adam’s error was he allowed Eve to convince him to break the natural order. Adam allowed Eve dominion over him when he allowed Eve to convince him of the lie of the serpent. Their expulsion from the Garden of Eden meant they had to work harder.

Adam and Eve as a Microcosm of Civilization

The account of Adam and Eve is also a fundamental description of the man and woman’s interaction within the family and the interaction of men and women within civilization. In general terms, we should place ourselves in the position of Adam, the women in our lives in the position of Eve.

The family, man, and woman, is a microcosm of civilization. Consider the following:

Garden of Eden = Civilization

Adam = the majority of the men of that civilization

Eve = the majority of the women of that civilization

The Serpent = Advocates of progressivism, gender studies, that men and women are equal, etc.

Taking into consideration that Adam represents the majority of men in a civilization and Eve the majority of women in a civilization, the civilization fell after the men heeded the promptings of the women and subverted the natural order. The women, flattered by the enticing serpent, taught their sons and daughters that men and women were equals, encouraged the acceptance of homosexuality on par with heterosexuality, encouraged abortion, destruction of the family, and that transsexuality and cross-dressing are acceptable, and in some instances desirable.

Since women obtained the right to vote, the family, and by extension our civilization, has moved more in the direction of disorder and lawlessness, essentially toward destruction. Giving women the right to vote has been a disaster. Giving women the right to vote pushed matriarchy to the forefront and diminished patriarchy. Most women inevitably vote their proclivities and emotions. A woman should voice her concerns to her husband or other adult male family members.

Left to themselves women are not inclined to build. This dynamic can be seen in the television program of Dutch version of Survivor (titled Expeditie Robinson). ROK has an article from 2014 discussing what occurred with men and women in survival situations. Suffice to say, men started working together to survive and the women squabbled. Towards the end of the program, three men went to the woman’s location and three women went to the men’s location. The men that went to the woman’s location became the women’s workhorses while they continued to be lazy and worked very little. The women that went to the men’s location worked little as well.

Men work with a substantial portion of the fruits of that labor going to their women and children. Ever since women have received the right to vote, they have used that voting power to persuade businesses and politicians that they should still receive the fruits of all men’s labors. Since the rise of feminism and the subsequent confiscation of the fruits of men’s labors, men are now producing less.

The Upside-Down Order

Voting comes with responsibility, which many women have not been able to handle since feminism has prevented and encouraged a childish and responsibility avoidance mentality. There was a reason earlier civilizations did not give women the right to vote. Voting, and thus government were seen as the realm of men because men are the primary builders of civilization and because of the responsibility that comes with voting rights. Women were to receive support from their husbands, fathers, or other male family members.

Feminists would have everyone believe that women have always been oppressed and are still being oppressed while this is not the case, wherever women obtained political power civilization fell. Feminism does not discuss or teach the sharing of power but how women need more power and do not have enough power. This desire for political power is the desire to control men. This is why everything is “sexist” in feminist eyes. There are plenty of articles on the Internet about how feminism is not about equality but about power.

A blogger wrote an article about the rise of feminism in Ancient Rome and Rome’s subsequent demise. The blogger also mentions Ancient Babylon and some of the Babylonian laws. The Bible, in the Book of Isaiah, states:

“Childish leaders [adult children] oppress my people, and women rule over them. O my people, your leaders mislead you; they send you down the wrong road.” Isaiah 3:12, NLT.

Roosh recently proved an excerpt on ROK from his book, Game. The excerpt is titled, Never Follow A Girl’s Lead. Adam let Eve lead and look what happened. A woman that tells you to be less of a man and less masculine desires power over you. She is trying to control you. Men want to be respected, women want to be loved, but neither is possible with the lies of equality in the picture. Women will be happier when they stop seeking control over men.

We all know when women obtained the vote feminists began moving in the direction of replacing men with another authority, government. Feminists also began pushing for more women in government and other positions of authority. Men, being ostracized and deceived, began letting more and more women lead. This makes men weak.

The more a woman seeks to control the men around her, the more unhappy she becomes. Feminism deceives a woman into believing that having power will make her happy and if she is not happy it is because she does not have enough power. These are lies. This is why the more power a woman attains the more unhappy she becomes, even if she will not admit her own unhappiness. Hillary Clinton is one example of a woman that desires control. An honest person can see that Hillary is clearly unhappy and she believes the solution to her unhappiness is more power, which is not the case.

There are women that realize there are important differences between men and women, and these women are responsible caring wives and mothers. These mature women realize that feminism harms everyone and creates unhappiness and lawlessness.

We are witnessing the demise of our civilization at the hands of weak men and women that desire to control men. Women will be happier when they stop trying to control the men and return to God’s established order. God did not make Eve equal to Adam. Eve was not Adam’s slave; she was a helper to him. She was to assist him in his assigned tasks.

Woman, instead of seeking to snatch control from the man, must do what she was created to do and assist the man. Men must lead, which requires responsibility and masculine strength. A man truly shows he cares for the women and children in his life by leading instead of abdicating his role designated to him by God.

Read More: Who Was The First Man To Be Red Pilled?

[wrathofthewind]

vii. Curse

Arnalt came in and out of consciousness, and every time he came to, the world was upside down. It was only after several days of being steadily administered with a continuous flow of spiritual energy and heavy dosages of anesthetic tea that he finally had the strength to peel his eyes open. His arm was bandaged and splinted, but it hurt like a bitch when he tried to move.

Ithana hadn’t just injured his shoulder, she’d also fractured a line in his spiritual power, causing a momentary break in his spiritual flow that made him hallucinate or faint with vertigo. 

He must’ve tried standing in his haze several times because his arms were now held down by ropes.

As soon as he looked conscious and stable, and after answering a few questions to the attending medic to confirm his state, the ropes were released and the attendant sighed with relief. 

Bael was there, a drink in his hand, and behind him Pallax was giving instructions to that servant girl Pagytha. Something, something, he likes them with a sprinkle of cinnamon, oh, they were probably talking about his breakfast. It was hard to feel starved though when you were so nauseous.

“Ugh.” Arnalt grumbled and an attendant quickly came to help him sit up. “What’s the status?”

Pallax immediately reported. “Compound fracture on your scapula, swelling and trauma to the glenohumeral joint, and some ugly bruising but nothing your highness hasn’t healed from before.”

He lowered his head.

“It’s not your fault I’m so behind on my training.”

“I am your teacher. This is my responsibility.”

“You can’t hope to compete with the Lioness of—“

Crack.

“CAN YOU NOT— ugh, I’m too nauseous for this shit.”

Pallax had easily dislocated his shoulder with a single chop from his hand, and just as quickly…

Click crack.

He adjusted it back in place. His face clenching and unclenching as he did so.

“In penance for my oversights.” He kneeled down and lowered his head, ashamed.

Arnalt had barely woken up, he rolled his eyes. “That was unnecessary,” he winced again, “but fine, fine.” He waved his left hand a bit to dismiss it. “Stand.”

“Ok if I had a Pallax in my state I would not be this fat.” Bael said this just as he reached for a plate of biscuits and scarfed them down. “You know?” He had his mouth full but kept talking a bit. “Or moobee I coulth conk urr sum villages or sumthin…” he wiped his mouth and took a large drink from a half-full glass that was laying by his side. He seemed to think for a minute then look at Arnalt’s shoulder seriously.  “Good thing it’s not a permanent injury.”

Arnalt nodded, and smirked, even though he was deathly pale, nauseous and still a bit damp from the pain sweats. “Hmf, how could it be?”

“Ithana really has a soft spot for you, I once saw her crush Gildegad’s whole hand. Before she smashed his nose in.”

And Gildegad never got that hand back. It was eventually cut off and replaced with a metal one.

Tyssen came into the room and Arnalt quickly felt his surroundings shrink. “Bael, could you leave us for a minute?”

“Alright,  I just wanted to check if you’d be ok. I’ll leave you to your business.” He gathered his things and finished his goblet. “Try not to start unnecessary duels again?” Once more, Bael’s face felt momentarily serious before that wide smile and mirth rippled through it once again and he hopped off to go. “Have a good one! Don’t get more bones broken while I’m gone! I can’t always have my Chef on hand to make your recovery meals gourmet you know? And…” his voice trailed off in the hall and Tyssen quickly shut the door.

The attendant had already left.

Arnalt immediately looked at him with a satisfied smile about to form, but his face quickly fell. Tyssen didn’t look happy.

“They caught him.”

Well, he hadn’t counted on that!

“Didn’t he memorize the map last night?”

“He did, but, he was a little overzealous and I believe he didn’t actually sleep, I woke up to find him in the same position, still reading the thing. I don’t think he slept.”

Arnalt wanted to scream for very different reasons now.

“An exhausted brain leads a fool to his grave. Where are they keeping him? And how… where did he get caught?”

“He somehow ended up close to Ithana’s stables, they found him on his way to steal a horse.”

If Arnalt could use both his hands he would’ve cradled his whole head. As It was, he just cradled his forehead with the one.

“As for where they’re keeping him… They’re not.”

“Don’t tell me…”

“The Prison Wagon departed to the Winterlands that very same day.”

A failure. All for naught.

Arnalt extended his arm and Pallax handed him a bowl of soup. He took one look at it and sneered. Pallax chose another plate, one of the many Bael had left behind, and this one was a bruleed toast with with fresh ham and melted cheese, a dab of marmalade peeping through the crust.

Arnalt shook his head again.

Finally he settled on the plate of sautéed sliced potatoes with chives, warm grains with fried bacon slices and a vegetable concasse.

Arnalt ate silently until the plate was clean.

An hour passed. Tyssen and Pallax didn’t move a muscle.

“I should let him rot up there. He deserves it.”

…

“I don’t care if he’s a stupid teenager.”

…

“I’m not that far from his age I wouldn’t have let myself get caught like that.”

…

“He’s so bloody dumb, he really is only muscle and no brain.”

…

“Your Highness your injured.” Tyssen simply mumbled.

“Your Highness I can’t recommend this.” Pallax quickly trailed.

“Pass me the toast, and we depart in a week.” Arnalt finished.

“Why do you bother keeping it alive? He’s already lived an enchanted life for any Kurian!” Tyssen finally spoke his mind.

“He is my ward!” Arnalt said simply. “I’m responsible for him. They said he wouldn’t grow more than a few inches and look how tall he’s gotten, they said his brain would be addled by the curse yet look what he’s become, DUMB SURE, but smart enough, they said he was weak and he would die and if anything he eats like TEN men combined, weak is NOT what he is. He’s not cursed, he’s like any other boy with potential for greatness. And I, Arnalt Azuria, am the first in the history of Aegeria to successfully raise a Kurian. Isn’t that something!”

Pallax rolled his eyes but Arnalt didn’t catch him, thankfully.

“Your Highness, he is 15 now, fast approaching maturity and his curse is catching up with him, with us! You saw what happened! He decimated that hall. The mission was perfectly under control and his impulsiveness nearly killed us all! He may not be getting weaker, or smaller, but it’s worse because he’s becoming stronger, and even more dangerous! That magic…”

Pallax interceded. “I must agree with Lord Tyssen your highness. Sometimes the best mercy with a ferocious animal is to eliminate it, prevent the destruction of many with the sacrifice of one. I had often heard that children cursed by the Kur especially would naturally die before age 16 and their death was marked by a burst of malicious energy. It could very well be that he’ll unleash the poisons at Tahr and perhaps that’s why—“

“…”

“Go on, say it. Speak your mind Pallax.” Arnalt spoke sharply.

“Perhaps this is the real reason he’s being sent to the Glaes, and, this might’ve always been the fate that was planned for him, even if you granted him your Mercy.”

Silence enveloped the room.

“And what of it?” Arnalt insisted. “If this was my family just waiting for an excuse—“

“They didn’t need to wait!” Tyssen cut in, finally losing his patience. “He gave them one! And he’s been giving several the more we approach his 16 suns! This is what the Opal spoke of, and you—“

“I KNOW WHAT THE OPAL SPOKE OF.”

…

Arnalt felt that pain and numbness again in his arm, and took a deep breath to both control the pain and control himself. He’d long put the plate down. “I heard the Opal. It was my coronation of course I heard the Opal. But a prophecy is just that, a prophecy, predictions, possibilities, and not all of them come true, or if they do, not the way anyone ever thinks. In the end we can only guide ourselves by our own code and our own nature and let Fate fall where it may. You were both there, and all you heard the Opal saw was that among us had risen a blight. That this blight would cause a devastation, that the heavens would split… You know what I heard?”

Neither Tyssen nor Pallax answered.

“I heard him say I—“ he slammed his fist on the night table next to him, “ARNALT THE EAGLE AZURIA, HAVE THE POWER TO PREVENT THIS.”

He swallowed the bile in his stomach, as any extertion made him want to hurl. But he kept his back straight and bore through it.

“So trust me. Because this is what I see right now. I see a 15 year old boy, with enormous potential, who is mostly scared and vulnerable and needs guidance. That boy could very well become the destruction of our realm if we keep treating him this way. It will be our fault, not his if he destroys us in the future!”

Tyssen and Pallax glanced at each other and nodded. Whether they agreed or not, there was nothing else to say.

“In a week then.” Tyssen echoed.

“We’ll need a good reason to take his highness away from the palace. And the healing facilities.” Pallax finished.

“I think it’s time to pay a visit to my dear Lady Olandra.”

Understanding reached the two knight’s faces. Pallax rubbed his chin. “This, this might work.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a  young woman was shoved inside with a yelp! Just as quickly the door slammed shut and when Pallax jumped to push it open he found it impossible, someone was holding it in place from the outside. 

A bolt slid across and locked all them all inside abruptly! A few steps were heard and then faded. They couldn’t get out. 

“YOU!” Arnalt stared at the young woman.

The young woman lifted her face and it was covered in black dust! 

“Sire!” She cried. “Help!”

[missinglight]

THE EXCREMENTALISTS

an annus horribilis tale

Anne Boyer

Dec 21

We had yoga pants made of recycled plastic, Tik Tok, and the military industrial complex, which meant we had nothing, not even ourselves. We’d been wrong about the beginning of the world. Eden was not on earth, but on the plains of heaven, and while Adam and Eve had indeed wanted to taste the forbidden fruit, they had also been wrong about the fruit’s nature. The apple didn’t confer wisdom. It was the only fruit in paradise which did not, when tasted, dissolve. Yet this first human couple had both illicit hunger and intestines in a paradise with no toilet. An angel pointed to what he claimed was the bathroom of the universe and promised, once they ate the apple, he would take them there.  First they ate --then they rode the wings of the angel to the toilet. Later, while they were doing their business, the angel flew away from them, never to bring them back to paradise. The toilet was earth. It is from this first couple — the excrementalists — that all of us have descended.

After eating the forbidden fruit, everything the first humans consumed turned to shit: the tender insides of mollusks, the bloody flesh of wild boar, the grains ground into mush, the milk of the ungulates, the berries growing on brambles. When the first children were born, too, both Cain and Abel were bathed in fluid tinged with their own waste. This waste, called meconium, formed in each human fetus thereafter in the twelfth week of gestation, the same week the fingernails grew from the nailbed and the sex organs emerged. The triumvirate of human folly — shitting, fucking, and fighting — arrived in its embryonic form to each embryonic concurrently, and still does. Full of shit, sometimes even eating it before their first gasping breath of air, all the descendants of this first pair were born, also, mixed up in the waste of their mothers, human life always emerging from the same place the shit comes out.

Unsurprisingly, encomium — an ancient term for a flattering speech — is an anagram of meconium — the shit we are full of at birth. All the great of our species have been excrementalists. Lao Tsu, Socrates, Gertrude Stein — each was the attendant of turds! All the nameless saints and rebels — shit’s consorts and companions! The most noble of all of us is born full of shit, born amongst shit, and shits most days of their life. The wretched and the mediocre do, too. The only non-shitters on the historical record were those, who like the Ancient Israelites had for a time, subsisted temporarily on the angel food of manna, or opium enthusiasts, or those who having grown fatally bored with this world of shit, refused to eat. Only a heretic would believe that Jesus himself — either before or after the resurrection — could save humanity without ever once squatting. Even the last supper most likely moved through someone’s bowels. Those who believe that God and shit are incompatible have a meager understanding of both.

We developed technologies for our waste: trowels, holes, hand sanitization. We issued edicts concerning it. It co-mingled — the shit of both high and low — in gutters and sewage plants, landfills and trash heaps, the major and minor waterways. We made bathhouses to clean ourselves — the water sometimes heated with pages torn from the books of our great libraries. There were bidets, outhouses, vault toilets, flush toilets, water closets, urinals, and holes dug with spades. I do not know of a book that could, no matter the dazzling elucidations of its interior, resist serving a future function as toilet paper.

Once fully settled into our earthly home — this terrestrial grandstand, the megacosm’s toilet — it was not only the food that our species ate that turned into waste: all we touched appeared to do the same. We were born so helpless, so adorable and adoring, and we remained that way so often throughout our lives, that we compensated for our constitutional weakness by acquiring for ourselves and those we loved the materials of the earth, not just at its surface, but deep within its gills. Our industries digested all the earth as we each digested our food. We mined, drilled, harvested, slaughtered, and concocted until we could fill the holes we had dug back up with the waste we made from what we dug from them. Even now this project — to let nothing go untouched by human hands, unseen by human eyes, or undevoured and undigested by the gargantuan cupidity of the fallen first couple disembarked to their earthly toilet — goes on.

The cursed descendants of the first excrementalists have always desired to subject the earth to manufacture as a moth desires a star. In the hands of our species, the snow becomes snowmen. The flowers become wreaths. The sheep becomes its skin. The planet’s veins of gold become a chain around a rich man’s neck. One of us then signed a urinal — the apex of our arts. We more often gave the shape of waste to the art we made than giving it the shape of life, which itself appeared mainly to be waste in waiting. Before conception was the pre-dung hour, and after death, the post-twilight of the ordure.  

As our species grew in number and sophistication, our waste became more noxious than feces, and more enduring — spent fuel rods, diaper bins, carbon emissions, glyphosates, nano-plastics. We made ruins and built future ruins upon these ruins, and future ruins upon those. The songbirds smashed themselves against our high-rise windows. The deer broke their necks via the hoods of our cars. The other animals choked on our aluminum tabs, smothered themselves in our plastic wrap, found themselves bereft and adrift as their habitats became strip mines and strip malls. There was nothing too cruel for us to invent out of the materials of the earth — our shit was deadly and complex.

The ancient philosopher Heraclitus, who knew he couldn’t stand in the same river twice, died in the manner of one who had eaten the true fruit of wisdom, the one that landed us in this outhouse, the earth:

“…he laid himself out in the sun and ordered some boys to smother him in cow shit. On the next day, he died stretched out in that way, and was buried in the agora. Neanthes of Cyzicus says that because he was unable to get it off, the shit remained on him; because of this change in his appearance, he was unrecognized, and was eaten by dogs.

“O Sacred, Wise, and Wisdom-giving Plant,” the first tempter whispered in front of Milton’s Eve, and our own Eve — requiring no serpent — probably whispered the same to the tree of corporeality. As silkworms make silk from spit, so it is that Karl Marx declared that Milton made Paradise Lost. Every epic of the fall — however strange and dazzling — is testimony to our species’ endless excretion, for it is not just shit we learned to excrete when we ate our forbidden fruit, but all of our orifices — pores, nostrils, eyes, genitalia — became founts of waste, each of different viscosity and purpose.

Having been banished to the bathroom of the cosmos, “shit” or its variants is a word that fell easily from our mouths. When caught red-handed, when breaking an ankle, when setting off a land mine, when crashing the van, we exclaim “shit!” and its myriad, multi-lingual synonyms. It is possible that “shit” is one of our species’ most popular last words, vying for first place with “god.”

As we are born, so we die, and though the future of our souls remains uncertain, eventually our corpses become — like Paradise Lost itself, and also Paradise Regained — just another excretion of the worms. And when we have too much of anything — too many problems, too many plastic lids, too many sorrows, too many long hours on the clock and hard days on the calendar — we gaze upon this too muchness, vexed and exhausted, and pronounce to ourselves or to any who can hear: I can’t deal with all this shit!

So it is that to declare a whole year shit — as many of us have done in 2020 — is kin to an act of enlightenment, for to declare the year shit is for humans to declare it, with pure candor, the logical consequence of ourselves.