#foods that are great sources of iron

[jacaranda55posts]

A Very Iron Rich Recipe For Iron Deficiency

Iron deficiency and zinc deficiency are two very common deficiencies in the world. Iron deficiency in women is especially hard to address due to blood loss from mensturation.

There are many factors contributing to the proper absorption of iron from the gut.

One major factor is not eating enough of heme containing foods that have the highest bioavailability of iron. These include red meat, seafood, organ meats and egg yolk.

The second problem is poor absorption. When the iron rich foods are eaten with plants or dairy the iron can not be absorbed efficiently. The plants fibre, polyphenols and Phytate bind with iron and prevents its absorption.

The third factor is the cofactors. Vitamin B2 and Copper are needed for iron absorption and if there is not enough B2 only very small amounts of iron gets absorbed. That is why eating liver is one of the best ways to raise iron level as liver is also very rich in vitamin B2.

I have always found barbequed liver to be more tasty that just pan fried liver. As the process of barbequing is always messy and involves a lot of time and especially cleaning, not everyone is keen to go through the process.

This method is simple, quick and does not involve a lot of time. Just wash and cut the heart and liver into small pieces, add some butter and then blowtorch each side.

[theveryworstthing]

time to learn a little bit about the Yells. i've been writing a few lore posts for a while and instead of continuing to let they grow and fretting over them, i think i'm just going to throw a few out there and try to finish up the rest this week.

The Yells

Despite their imposing size, strange behaviors, and mysterious keepers, the Signallusc (or The Yells as most rabbits call them) are considered just another part of the island landscape. These towering faux trees serve as the island version of radio towers, and make all radio communication above and below ground possible.

Though the 2 largest of the naturally formed Yells are still upright and active (and heavily protected so that their natural life cycle can be properly studied), these days rabbits prefer to cultivate the towers so that they don’t grow in problematic areas or do…other things.

Wild or free growth Yells make their homes in dead rotting wood as natural decomposers, and many live out their lives as simple slime molds (or as simple as any slime mold can be). Certain conditions must be met to trigger the drastic color change and vertical growth that make them viable for communication use, and so wild Yells are usually found growing in small clusters in or around the resources they need to sustain their new forms. Dead trees or stumps with roots still in the ground are prime hosts for these slime molds and they’re actually seen as beneficial since they stabilize potentially dangerous dead trees and kill diseases or especially destructive insects that might harm surrounding living trees. Once inside these dead trees the slime mold eats them from the inside out, taking the branches first, and then devouring the mass from the top down.

Compared to other slime molds they can handle direct sunlight quite well, but wild yells still tend to favor hosts in shady areas and from the way these trees are devoured they seem to try and keep some sort of shell around them for as long as possible. This wooden shell not only serves as food, but also gives the growing Yell a moist, dark, home until its outer membrane is thick and strong enough to handle being constantly exposed. When wild Yells “die”, it’s usually because they’ve run out of host tree long ago, and have stiffened into a rigid structure that eventually cracks (usually due to being struck by lightning) and crumbles, releasing clouds of spores. The remains of a Yell dissolve in the first rain after they fall and tend to leave the area around the strange lotus pod-ish pit in the ground where “roots” used to be spotless, but smelling very metallic with a hint of foulness. Almost like not so fresh blood.

Through the observations recorded by island botanists and the specific botanical sect known as the Antenna, rabbits (and hares, as they were the first to investigate and made great strides in understanding the process before they left the island en masse) have learned exactly what triggers Yell vertical growth and have used this knowledge to cultivate Yells quite successfully. A combination of owl feathers, metal ore (mainly bog iron), charcoal sticks and or ash (best if created by lightning strike, wood preferred but animal remains like burned out hawks are perfectly acceptable), and a little starter wood are fed to the slime mold, and after it’s broken everything down it begins its transformation. It is then introduced to a host plant sprout, a type of fast growing, woody, creeping vine in the Grasp family bred specifically for this purpose (wild cultivars work fine but they’re half as hardy and the bond has a greater chance of triggering very upsetting mutations. These are different from the upsetting mutations, which are fine and harmless). From then on the slime mold seems to guide the host plant’s growth, forming a shell from the vines that is constantly growing and shedding. This serves as both a home and an ample food source.

The botany world is torn on whether this forms a mutualistic symbiotic relationship or whether it’s straight up parasitism. And yes, plant nerd blood has been spilled over this argument. Not a ton of blood, it’s not like this is the great lichen wars, but still.

The Antenna

All yell care-taking is done by the Antenna sect. This is a mysterious group of witchy botanists and engineers who, like the previously referred to upsetting mutations, are harmless despite their entire vibe. Well. Harmless enough for botanists anyway.

Not a lot is known about them by the general public but they keep things working smoothly and show up quickly when something isn’t.

Members of this sect haven’t had a set “look” or uniform for about a generation and a half due to the ending of a lot of the the founding member’s bloodlines, but each Yell site has it’s own culture that attracts certain kinds of people. Despite their differences, there are a few things that make Antennae easier to pick out of a crowd if you know what to look for. The skin of their inner ears develop thin branching markings or wave-like ripples depending on how they interact with Yells. Some have obvious hare ancestry and sport roughly branching horns that grow quite long and shed every year (these shed horns are fed to the Yells). Newer members wear a lot of lightweight ear jewelry to help pick up important signals and behavioral quirks from the Yells, but the longer they stay in the Antenna the less tolerant they are of this. Things get…loud. Behind their eyes. Inside their teeth. Seasoned members usually can’t stand wearing any metal jewelry at all. The head botanist of one of the most remote Yells wears ear plugs almost 24/7 because of left behind shrapnel from an accident in his youth.

He is deaf.

He says he’s not really blocking anything out, just sorting it properly.

No one really knows what he means. It’s fine.

[coven-of-genesis]

Ways to rejuvenate spiritual & physical energy levels

Here are some herbs, plants, teas, foods, and recipes that will help rejuvenate energy:

Ginseng: This is a traditional Chinese herb that has been used for centuries to increase energy levels, reduce stress and fatigue.

Matcha Tea: This tea is a form of green tea that is high in antioxidants and caffeine, which can help improve mental alertness and physical energy.

Maca Root: This herb has been traditionally used in Peru to enhance stamina, endurance and energy levels.

Ashwagandha: This adaptogenic herb is used in Ayurvedic medicine to reduce stress, anxiety, and fatigue.

Chia Seeds: These tiny seeds are packed with nutrients and can help provide a slow release of energy throughout the day.

Dark Chocolate: This treat is high in flavonoids which can help improve mental alertness and focus.

Spinach: This leafy green vegetable is high in iron, which is essential for maintaining energy levels.

Quinoa: This grain is rich in protein and complex carbohydrates, which can provide sustained energy.

Lemon & Ginger Tea: This tea is a great way to boost your immune system, reduce inflammation, and increase energy levels.

Berry Smoothie: Blend together a handful of mixed berries, a banana, a tablespoon of honey, and some almond milk for a delicious and energizing smoothie.

Avocado Toast: Mash half an avocado and spread it onto a slice of whole-grain bread for a healthy and energizing breakfast.

Grilled Chicken Salad: Toss together some grilled chicken, mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and a lemon vinaigrette for a light and energizing lunch.

Sweet Potato & Lentil Curry: This hearty and delicious dish is packed with nutrients and is a great source of sustained energy.

Baked Salmon: This fish is high in omega-3 fatty acids which can help improve mental focus and reduce fatigue.

Golden Milk: This warm and soothing drink is made with turmeric, ginger, honey, and coconut milk, and is believed to help reduce inflammation and increase energy levels.

[sweetsilver-if]

To Taste Sweet Silver

Play here [Updated 8/10/24]

Word count (w/code): 16.9k

[F.A.Q] [Spotify][Pinterest]

"The silver of the fruit tastes sweeter than the iron of the blood." There is a City in the center of the remaining world, said to house and protect the last gift from the Old Gods before they vanished. Your mother had told you stories of it as a child, before she died. No one is allowed to enter the City of Forgotten Silver without extensive documentation and proof they are worthy. Not everyone is allowed to grace divinity. There is no reason for you, a nobody, to be here but you've managed to worm your way in. You know the consequences if you get caught, and you know to keep your head down as often as you can. The risk to be here is great, for the City is desperate to protect what remains of the past. Everyone who has dared to take the Old God's last gift, a fruit with silver skin, has had their execution made a spectacle. For this fruit is the key to reviving the world to what it used to be. Or so it is believed. It's why those in power will do anything to protect it. You know this, but you have a plan to attempt its theft anyway. For without it, how else will you finally bring this world to its end?

To Taste Sweet Silver is an 18+ Gaslamp Fantasy IF about putting a crumbling world to rest.

✽ Play as a fully customizable MC: gender, sexuality, personality, skills, etc.

✽ Decide how you're going to survive in the City; will you fake an identity and do earnest work, rely on thievery, or freeload off anyone willing to take pity on you

✽ Master magic, hone your physical skills, or expand your worldly knowledge

✽ Discover why the Old Gods abandoned the world in the first place, and learn about the New Gods that have taken their place

✽ Decide your reasons for wanting to end the world. Will you really go through with it?

Caspian Sinclair

The City Mage [M]:

A man who's more important then he lets on. The only reason you know he's a Mage is because you sense it on him. Despite his kind but stoic nature, you hesitate to approach him because if he finds out who you are, he will kill you. If only he wasn't also the holder of key information you need. He never seems opposed to answering your questions or pointing you in the right direction, making him your main source of information about the City of Lost Silver. However, the badge he wears reminds you to still your tongue, and watch your questions.

Whisper

The Jester [NB]:

Xer part of a night show, the sort outlawed in the City due to being propaganda about the Old Gods' departure. When xer not part of the show, xe have a traveling food cart xe only run at night. Although it's best not to draw attention to yourself and get involved with someone like xem, you can't help but wonder what's hiding under the mask. Especially with xer strange charm, odd sense of humor, and ability to show up at the worst of times for you.

Vivienne Silver

The Empress [F/trans]:

The youngest Empress ever crowned, and only due to the tragic assassination of her family. She's an elusive figure, never seen in public, but worshiped all the same. The people whisper her suffering is the reason why the City has seen such prosper in recent years, mythologizing her as a martyr. As an outsider, you have no strong opinion of her, until strange circumstances bring you together. She's exhausted and weary and as willing to bite as she is to be gentle.

Mourning

The New God [M/F/NB]:

Your benefactor and the sole reason you managed to get into the City. They found you in the outskirts one day and handed you a pass, telling you they can help you get what you want. You haven't seen them since. They're elusive and strange, and while they claim they're a God, you're not sure they're something quite so holy.

CW: Gore, violence, torture, cannibalism, death, religious trauma, explicit sexual themes, mtc

Note: This is a side project and won't be updated frequently. My main project is Burning Academia!

[petermorwood]

Food on St Patrick's Day (in the USA)...

...is usually Corned Beef & Cabbage, which is the Irish-American version of the original Irish boiled bacon & cabbage, but while the celebratory Irishness is still going strong, try something a bit more authentic.

A nice warm coddle. Not cuddle, coddle, though just as comforting in its own way. (Some sources suggest it's a hangover cure, not that such a thing would ever be necessary at this time of year, oh dear me no.)

Coddle is a stew using potatoes, onions, bacon, sausages, stout-if-desired / stock-if-not, pepper, sage, thyme and Time.

You'll often see it called "Dublin Coddle", but my Mum made Lisburn Coddle lots of times, I've made West Wicklow Coddle more than once, and on one occasion in a Belgian holiday apartment I made Brugsekoddel, which is an OK spelling for something that doesn't exist in any cookbook.

*****

I do remember one amendment I made to Mum's recipe, which met with slight resistance at the time and great appreciation thereafter.

Her coddle was originally cooked on the stove-top, not in the oven, and nothing was pre-cooked. Potatoes were quartered, onions were sliced, bacon was cut into chunks and then everything went into the big iron casserole, then onto the slow back ring, and there it simmered Until Done.

However, the bacon was thick-cut back rashers, and the sausages were pork chipolatas.

Raw, they looked like this:

...and the bacon looked like this:

Cooked in the way Mum initially did, they looked pretty much the same afterwards. The sausages didn't change colour. Nor did the bacon.

While everything tasted fine, the meat parts always looked - to me, anyway - somewhat ... less than appealing. "Surgical appliance pink" is the kindest way to put it, and that's all I'm saying. This is apparently "white coddle" and Dubs can get quite defensive about This Is The Way It SHOULD Look.

I'm not a Dub, so I persuaded Mum to fry both the bacon and sausages first, just enough to get a bit of brown on, and wow! Improvement! I remember my Dad nodding in approval but - because he was Wise - not saying anything aloud until Mum gave it the green light as well.

Doing the coddle in the oven, first with lid on then with lid off, came later and met with equal approval. So did using only half of the onion raw and frying the other half lightly golden in the bacon fat.

Nobody quoted from a movie that wouldn't be made for another decade, but there was a definite feeling of...

*****

There are coddle recipes all over the Net: I've made sure that these are from Ireland to avoid the corned-beef-not-boiled-bacon "adjustment" versions which are definitely out there. I've already seen one with Bratwurst. Just wait, it'll be chorizo next.

Oh, hell's teeth, I was right. And from RTE...

Returning to relative normality, here's Donal Skehan's white coddle and his browned coddle with barley (I'm going to try that one).

Here's Dairina Allen's Frenchified with US measurements version. (I feel considerably less heretical now.)

And finally (OK, not Irish, but it references a couple of the previous ones and is a VERY comprehensive write-up, so gets a pass) Felicity Cloake's Perfect Dublin Coddle (perfect according to who, exactly...?) in The Guardian.

*****

Returning to the beginning, and how boiled bacon became corned beef (a question which prompted @dduane to start an entire website...!)

The traditional Irish meat animal for those who could afford it was the pig, but when Irish immigrants (even before the Great Famine) arrived in the USA, they often lived in the same urban districts as Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe.

For fairly obvious reasons pork, bacon and other piggy products were unavailable in those districts, but salt beef was right there and far cheaper than any meat Irish immigrants had ever seen before.

Insist on tradition or eat what was easy to find? There'd have been contest - and do I sometimes wonder a bit if sauerkraut ever came close to replacing cabbage for the same reason.

The pre-Famine Irish palate liked sour tastes: a German (?) visitor to Ireland in the mid-1600s wrote about about what were called "the best-favoured peasantry in Europe", and mentioned that they had "seventy-several sour milks and creams*, and the sourer they be, the better they like them."

* Yogurt? Kefir? Skyr? Gosh...

Corned beef and Kraut as the immigrants' celebratory "Irish" meal for St Patrick's Day? Maybe, maybe not.

Time for "Immigrant Song" (with kittens).

*****

Corned beef got its name from the size of the salt grains with which the beef was prepared. They were usually bigger than kosher salt, like pinhead oats or even as large as grains of wheat, and their name derived originally from "corned (gun)powder", the large coarse grains used in cannon.

BTW, "corn" has been a generic English term for "grain" for centuries, and "but Europe didn't have corn" is an American mistake assuming the word refers to sweetcorn / maize, which it doesn't.

Lindsey Davis, author of the "Falco" series, had a couple of rants about it and other US-requested "corrections". As she points out, mistakes need corrected but "corn" is not a mistake, just a difference in vocabulary.

*****

In Ancient and Medieval Ireland pig would have included wild boar, the hunting of which was a suitable pastime for warriors and heroes, because Mr Boar took a very dim view of the whole proceeding and wasn't shy about showing it (see "wild boar" in my tags and learn more).

Cattle were for milk, butter, cream and little cattle; also wealth, status, and heroic displays in their theft, defence or recovery. It's no accident that THE great Irish epic is "The Cattle-Raid of Cooley" / Táin Bó Cúailnge (tawn / toyn boh cool-nyah).

Killing a cow for meat was ostentation on a level of lighting cigars with 100-, or even 500-, currency-unit notes. Once it had been cooked and eaten there'd be no more milk, butter, cream or little cattle from that source, so eating beef was showing off And Then Some.

Also, loaning a prize bull to run with someone else's heifers was a sign of great friendship or alliance, while refusing it might be an excuse for enmity or even war. IMO that's what Maeve of Connaught intended all along, picking undiplomatic envoys who would get drunk and shoot their mouths off so the loan was refused and she, insulted, would have an excuse to...

But I digress, as usual. Or again. Or still... :->

*****

For the most part, "pig" mean "domestic porker", and in later periods right up to the Famine, these animals were seldom eaten.

Instead, known as "the gentleman who pays the rent", the family pig ate kitchen scraps and rooted about for other foods, none of which the tenant had to grow or buy for them. These fattened pigs would go to market twice a year, and the money from their sale would literally pay that half-year's rent.

For wealthier (less poor?) farmers, pigs had another advantage. Calves arrived singly, lambs might be a pair, but piglets popped out by the dozen. A sow with (some of) her farrow was even commemorated on the old ha'penny coin...

What with bulls, chickens, hares, horses, hounds, pigs, salmon and stags, the pre-decimal Irish coinage is a good inspiration for some sort of fantasy currency.

But that's another post, for another day.

[ichorandpride]

some morgott headcanons i have

just a list because i love this old man a lot. a mixture of both general and ship hc's

morgott nests. he has a bed but prefers nesting and has gone to great lengths to create a nest that is comfy enough for him. it's made up of furs, hides, bed sheets, blankets, even window drapes. it's not the best thing in the world but it's his and he likes it.

if, say, your tarnished is somehow able to start a relationship with him and ends up sleeping in said nest, he will actively make it bigger. just don't try to help him; despite the good intentions, you will just get in the way. you might get a tail in the face.

he doesnt move around lots in his sleep. he's a large, heavy guy that just kind of becomes a furry brick when passed out. that being said, he sleeps lightly. growing up in such horrid conditions under constant threats has him unfortunately unable to fall into a deep rest. if he does ever get into a solid sleep, it goes on for like 13 hours - his body probably overcompensating and getting what it can while it can.

he's got a rough relationship with food. he may feel stressed if at, say, a banquet and there's tons of food around. he's used to not eating a lot and as such continues to eat as little as possible. it's not because he doesnt think he deserves it. rather, he's just gone his entire life without a stable source of food and is used to it.

that said, he forages lots. my man is a scrounger. i know this mf scrounges around for mushrooms and herbs to bring back to his nest. at any given time, you can find at least a few scraps of herbs around his space. he probably eventually starts a small garden.

if he's eating something and you try to jokingly take a piece, he will growl at you. it's one of the few times he ever vocalizes like that (compared to his brother, who constantly growls and isnt afraid to snarl). his growling is deep, more from his chest than his throat, and it will be one of those rumbles you can feel.

other than growling, he can also purr. it's embarrassing and unbecoming, but if you get him relaxed enough (a feat in and of itself), he will absolutely start purring and doze off. please get him a big enough rocking chair to be able to snooze in.

he either doesnt bathe, or he bathes far too much. no in-between. it's really hard for him to be able to keep to a set schedule and so it's kind of become a thing of extremes for him. it depends on how he feels. either he feels like it doesnt matter bc he's gonna get dirty anyways and so he just doesnt for a while, or he goes through a period where he just cant get the memory of the stench of sewers out of his nose and ends up bathing like three times a day.

normally his hair and fur is wiry and kinda... 'off' looking. that's when he's in a period of bad hygiene. when he does bathe, though, his fur puffs tf out and actually gets quite soft. maybe even lighter in colour now that all his body muck is gone.

despite his occasional bouts of hygiene issues (and his own personal fears of smelling like the sewers), morgott surprisingly smells fine most of the time. maybe a bit of musk or perhaps the scent of iron and soil from his times battling, but otherwise it's not actually overwhelming or bad.

he'll never admit it but if you ever gift him some food and reassure him that it's all his, he probably spends the next several minutes just staring at it instead of eating. there is not a scrap left after he's done with it though.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi :)) do you have any advice on writing stories about Celtic mythology? Ive been trying to use Wikipedia to learn more about it but I find the format of it isn’t very digestible for me and I end up not understanding it well

Writing Notes: Celtic Mythology

The ancient Celtic pantheon consisted of over 400 gods and goddesses who represented everything from rivers to warfare.

With perhaps the exception of Lugh, the Celtic gods were not universally worshipped across Iron Age Europe but were very often limited to only several regions or a specific area.

Another difficulty in examining the Celtic pantheon is the paucity of written records produced by the Celts themselves; quite often a god (deivos/deiva) is named in only a single surviving inscription.

To further complicate our lack of knowledge, the Celts often gave all-embracing powers and attributes to their gods which means that they can rarely be easily categorised.

Celtic votive inscriptions from the Roman period often name a Celtic god with a Roman equivalent noted alongside, a practice known as the interpretatio romana. The following are a few major deities or those with multiple or significant inscriptions.

Andarta - a Celtic goddess whose name may derive from the Celtic word for the bear animal.

Borvo (also Bormo) - a god whose name likely derives from the Celtic word meaning 'to boil' and so indicates his frequent association with natural hot springs.

The Dagda - an Irish-Celtic god whose name is usually preceded by the definite article. His name likely means 'the good god', probably in the sense of being 'many-skilled'. His common attributes are a great club, which can both kill and bring the dead back to life, and a giant cauldron that can produce an inexhaustible quantity of food, especially porridge.

Danu (also Dana) - a Celtic mother-goddess who gives her name, which means 'stream' or 'the waters of heaven' to various places and the River Danube.

Genii Cucullati - mysterious Celtic divinities which are not given a name but appear in groups or alone and wear hooded cloaks in art. Depictions typically have them near a single better-known god and holding either an egg or a scroll.

Nemetona - a goddess whose name derives from the Celtic term for a sacred grove of trees (nemeton). Votive inscriptions naming the goddess survive from both England and Germany, some of which indicate she is the partner of Mars. The goddess had temples dedicated to her at Klein-Winternheim and Trier, both in eastern Germany.

Suleviae - this is a group of Celtic sister goddesses who were venerated in Britain, Germany, and Rome (where there were many Celtic mercenaries). The trio was most likely seen as protective figures and associated with regeneration.

Read the full list here. More Celtic mythology concepts and themes:

Albion - Ancient Celts referred to Britain—not including Ireland—as Albion and only later as Britannia. The Romans connected Albion through their word albus, meaning “white,” with the white cliffs of Dover. Geoffrey of Monmouth reported that the Celts believed a certain Albion who ruled the island was a giant fathered by a god of the sea. Others believe the island was named for a princess who came to the island with fifty women who in their former home had killed their husbands.

Belenus - Also known in Celtic Ireland and Britain by various names—Bel, Belinos, Beli, Bile—Belenus is a god of Celtic Gaul whom Julius Caesar compared to the Greco-Roman Apollo as a solar god of light and reason. He carries a solar disk on the chariot that he presumably uses to travel daily across the sky. His British name is the source for Billingsgate in London. Fires in honor of the god were lit for Celtic festivals of Beltaine (“Bel’s Fires”) on May 1.

Cernunnos - A horned Celtic god of Gaul (modern France) and parts of the British Isles, Cernunnos was a god offertility, like the Italian goddess *Ceres. He carries a club and is lord of the animals. Perhaps because of his association with planting and seeds, he was associated with the underworld. The Romans linked him to Mercury, who led souls to the underworld, and to Apollo, as he provided light for the dead in their graves. Sometimes he is equated with Dispater and the Irish Dagda.

Decapitation - An important theme in Celtic mythology in general and Irish and Welsh mythology in particular. The story of Bricriu’s Feast is a decapitation myth, as is the Welsh story of Bran. The theme influenced the Arthurian myths and the medieval English romances such as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Earlier decapitation stories are found in the Bible—including the tales of David and Goliath, Judith and Holofernes, and Salome and John the Baptist. There is also decapitation in the Greek myth of Perseus and Medusa, and in the Mesopotamian myth of Gilgamesh and Humbaba. The decapitation theme—especially when associated with a “green man” such as Gawain’s Green Knight, the Aztec Corn King, or many Native North American Corn Mothers—may well have its roots in sacrificial rituals of fertility. Heads that have been cut away from the body, as in the case of Bran’s head, continue to function and talk in Celtic mythology, suggesting a belief in the head’s being the seat of the soul as well as of power and fertility.

Dis Pater - In the Gaulish, that is, continental Celtic mythology, Dis Pater was the Roman name provided by Julius Caesar for a god claimed by the Gauls as their father god, or ultimate progenitor. The name given by Caesar suggests that the Romans saw a connection between this deity and the otherworld or underworld. As, literally, “underworld father,” Dis Pater is naturally associated in Caesar’s mind with the Roman Pluto. The Irish cognates would probably be the Dagda, the father god of the Tuatha De Danaan, and Donn, the god of the dead.

Druids - The priestly class in early Celtic societies, especially continental Celts. They were judges and seers with great moral authority, who ranked above all other classes. As such, they were the equivalent of their Indo-European brothers, the Indian brahmans. The Romans in Gaul developed myths about the druids such as the one suggesting that they practiced human ‘sacrifice. The Irish filidh may be said to have somewhat diminished druidic standing. The great Celtic bards Taliesen and Amairgen had druidic qualities and authority.

Epona - It was primarily the continental Celts who revered Epona, the horse goddess. She was naturally adopted as a favorite by the Roman cavalry and was celebrated at an annual Roman festival. Epona has certain earth goddess aspects, such as her strong association with fertility, sexuality, and water. In Welsh mythology, Epona appears to have had a cognate in the fertility-warrior goddess Rhiannon, who rode about Wales on a white horse dispensing gifts, in the traditional great goddess manner, from her bag or womb bundle.

Irish mythology

Lugus - His name, referring to brightness, indicates that the continental Celtic god Lugus, whom Julius Caesar equated with the Roman Mercury, was a cognate of the Irish Lugh and the Welsh Lleu. Lugus was a god of the arts.

Maponos - Son of the continental Celtic mother goddess Matrona, has a Welsh cognate in Mabon, as Matrona has one in Modron. Maponos was the divine child— the puer aeternus—of Celtic mythology.

Matrona - In the continental Celtic tradition, Matrona, whose counterpart in Welsh mythology was Modron, was the mother goddess whose son was the divine child Maponos (Welsh Mabon).

Nehalenia - A Germanic and possibly continental Celtic sea goddess who protected voyagers.

Taranis - (Taranus) was compared by Julius Caesar to the Roman god Jupiter. Taranis was the thunder and storm god of the continental Celts of Gaul. He was an aspect of the typically Indo-European triad of Esus, Taranis, and Teutates.

Arthurian Mythology

Annwn - (Caer Feddwid) is a name for the Welsh Otherworld, where a magic cauldron exists. In a medieval Arthurian tale, Preiddeu Annwn (The Spoils of Annwn), Arthur and his knights go to Annwn to obtain the cauldron, which, as indicated by the possession of the Cauldron of Plenty by the Dagda, the father god of the Irish Tuatha De Danaan, was a symbol of sacred kingship. Arthur and the few of his men that remained return empty-handed. The tale is seen as a prototype for the story of the Holy Grail.

Camelot - The castle and primary dwelling place of King Arthur, the seat of the fellowship known as the Round Table. It was at Camelot that the Holy Grail appeared to the knights of the Round Table. Many places in England to this day claim to be the site of the legendary castle. Camelot was first mentioned by Chretien de Troyes in his twelfth-century work Lancelot. Supposedly Camelot was destroyed after Arthur’s death. During the early stylish and optimistic years of the American presidency of John F. Kennedy, it became customary to speak of Kennedy and his followers in the White House, and of the administration as a whole, as “Camelot.”

Chretien de Troyes - A French poet of the 12th century C.E., Chretien wrote metrical romances about the ‘Welsh-British ‘hero ‘King Arthur and his knights of the ‘Round Table. Most famously, he wrote Perceval or the Story of the Grail, about ‘Percival (Parsifal) and the ‘quest for the ‘Holy Grail; and Lancelot, or the Knight of the Cart.

Fisher King - In the Arthurian story, the Fisher King is a somewhat ambiguous figure who is encountered in various conflicting versions by hero-knights of the Round Table— particularly Percival—during the quest for the Holy Grail. The King is in some sense wounded, a fact that affects the fertility of the land he rules. Some say that the King—Pelles, Parian, or Pellam—was guardian of the Grail but that he had sinned and was thus unable to speak when the Grail appeared before him. The King can be cured of his wounds or his speechlessness only when certain questions are asked of him. But when Sir Percival comes to the Fisher King’s castle and the Grail passes by him in procession, he fails to ask any questions about it, and the King remains under the terrible spell.

Galahad - Originally Gwalchafed in Welsh, Sir Galahad was a knight of King Arthur’s Round Table in medieval Arthurian sagas. His story had strong heroic mono- mythic elements. Galahad was the son of Sir Lancelot and the Lady Elaine, whom Lancelot had been tricked by a potion into thinking was his beloved Guinevere. Galahad was brought up by a nun and then knighted by his father and taken to Arthur’s court. He was, above all, pure, and it was this quality that made it possible for him, of all knights, to succeed in the quest for the Holy Grail. Galahad appears in Arthurian lore in a thirteenth-century French cycle of romances. La queste del saint graal (“The Quest for the Holy Grail”). In Sir Thomas Malory’s Le morte d’Arthur, Galahad achieves apotheosis; he is taken up to Heaven.

Guinevere - In the Arthurian romances, including those of Chretien de Troyes, the Welsh historian Geoffrey of Monmouth, and Sir Thomas Malory, Guinevere (Welsh Gwenhwyfar) is the wife of King Arthur and the beloved of Sir Lancelot. There are conflicting tales of Guinevere’s origins. Some traditions hold that she was the daughter of Leodegan, who gave the Round Table to Arthur when the latter married his daughter. Her love for Lancelot led to the disruption of Camelot and the fellowship of the knights of the Round Table, and eventually to Arthur’s death. Some say she married Mordred after Arthur’s death. More often it is said that she retired to a nunnery.

Holy Grail - or Sangreale in Old French, was an important quest object in the Arthurian tradition, particularly connected with Percival, as in the Perceval of Chretien de Troyes (c. 1185) and the slightly later Parfval of Wolfram von Eschenbach. Whatever the original source of the legends of the Grail, Christianity associated it with one of the vessels used by Jesus at the Last Supper.

King Arthur - Legendary British king who appears in a cycle of medieval romances (known as the Matter of Britain) as the sovereign of a knightly fellowship of the Round Table. It is not certain how these legends originated or whether the figure of Arthur was based on a historical person. The legend possibly originated either in Wales or in those parts of northern Britain inhabited by Brythonic-speaking Celts.

Lancelot - The son of King Ban of Benwick or Brittany, Sir Lancelot, or Lancelot of the Lake—so called because he was raised by Vivienne, the mysterious Lady of the Lake, who stole him at birth—was one of the noblest knights of King Arthur’s Round Table. But his love affair with Arthur’s queen, Guinevere, would lead to the downfall of Camelot and the fellowship of knights. Sir Galahad was Lancelot’s son by the Lady Elaine, who tricked him into thinking she was Guinevere and so made love with him. Galahad would succeed in the quest for the Holy Grail where his father had failed. Lancelot rescued Guinevere when she was about to be burned at the stake for adultery. When Guinevere and Lancelot fled to Brittany, Arthur followed them and his illegitimate son or nephew, Mordred, usurped his throne. This led to a war in which both Mordred and Arthur were killed. When Guinevere retired to a nunnery, Lancelot, too, took religious vows. The Lancelot story is found in the works of Chretien de Troyes and Sir Thomas Malory.

Mabinogion - The “Welsh Mabinogion is found in two fourteenth-century manuscripts, the White Book of Rhydderch and the Red Book of Hergest. The collection, based on oral narratives, probably took literary form between the mid-eleventh to the early twelfth centuries.

Malory - Sir Thomas Malory is the fifteenth-century English author of Le Morte d’Arthur, an important compilation of Arthurian material. He is said to have created his great prose work while in prison.

Merlin - Probably has an antecedent in the legendary Scottish and/or Irish mad prophet Myrddin (Merddin). The Welsh historian Geoffrey of Monmouth, in his twelfth-century History of the Kings of Britain, established Merlin’s position as the motivating wizard in the Arthurian legend. It was Merlin who helped arrange for the liaison between Uther and Igraine that would lead to the conception and birth of King Arthur. After Arthur’s birth Merlin took the child to one Hector, this in keeping with the monomythic heroic divine child’s being raised by a menial or commoner. It was Merlin who arranged for the ceremony through which Arthur would prove himself to be the king by removing a sword from a rock. There are many versions of Merlin’s life. It was said by some that he was conceived as a result of the union between a sleeping nun and a demon. In Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, based on many earlier sources—many of them specifically about Merlin—the magician falls in love with an enchantress, Nimue (perhaps the Lady of the Lake), a femme fatale who imprisons him under a rock.

Welsh Mythology

Has come to us from various sources, all much more directly affected and distorted by time and non-Celtic elements than is the case in the much more isolated Ireland.

There are the two Latin texts especially concerned with the Arthurian legends—the early-ninth-century Historia Brittonum by Nennius and the twelfth-century Historia Regum Britanniae by Geoffrey of Monmouth—and there are, of course, oral sources, including, traditionally, poems questionably attributed to the semi-mythic sixth-century poet-prophet Taliesin, whose Irish equivalent was Amairgen, the poet-warrior.

But Welsh mythology, including the remnants of a pre-Christian Welsh pantheon, is more essentially contained in the “four branches” of a collection of eleven medieval tales known in modern times as the Mabinogion {Mabinogi) and in the various traditions associated with King Arthur.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hi, consuming a lot of media on the topic would be important for your story. These are just a few excerpts from the sources I was able to find, which you can go through in the links above (+ the other references the authors mentioned). Find the right balance between your research and the direction you want your own story to go. Hope this helps with your writing!

[whore-ibly-hot]

Midsummer nights madness.

Yandere!Fae x Gn!eader (Inspired heavily by fairies from Midsummer Nighs Dream).

Minors dni

Warnings: Suggestive content; manipulation; magic; mythical beings; intoxication; drugging?; coercion; and one very clingy boy.

A/N: Was in a Shakespeare mood and fell in love with Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow; from Midsummer Nights Dream. Thus, I tried this fic out. Please enjoy!

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Brown, fallen leaves crunched under foot, the sun setting slowly just beyond the forest's dense canopy. Skipping down the muddied, beaten path is you, a simple peasant on a delivery run for the local apothecary. Your mother, a hermit widow and herbalist, was known in the county for her incredibly potent herbs, and her garden was unmatched. Despite how the people revered her work, she was never a social woman. Lately, she had become rather ill, and while she was at home curing herself, her deliveries still had to be made. Though it caused her great grief, though you were unsure why, she gave into your pleading to let you make the delivery.

"But mother, I'm perfectly capable of a small trip through the woods!" You had exclaimed. She only shook her head weakly, waving you away with her hand as she moved to grab the wicker basket of roots and plants. However, her ill state only becomes more evident when she suddenly collapses on the dirt floor of the hut. "Mother!" You cried, helping her trembling form stand. Walking her to her bed, she sits down, and sighs. "Mother, you're in no condition to deliver the herbs, please, allow me to go in your place!" You begged had begged. Begrudgingly, she had allowed you to take the ingredients, but not before slipping a small, worn scroll into your palm. "Remember the rules, my dear. The woods are not safe for anyone, much less someone alone, at the mercy of the night...". She had warned you off the usual dangers, wolves, bears, and thieves, but these simple natural occurrences did not seem to be what worried her most. The scrolls instructions were simple, and went as follows.

'Rule one, to prevent most danger, continue the path and speak to no stranger.

Rule two, if talking is their aim, always remember to not give your name.

Rule three, even if kindness they exude, from a stranger, never takes food.

Finally, rule four, if danger is discerned, touch them with iron, allow them to burn...'

While you must admit you weren't entirely sure about the Iron part, the other rules made sense. It was always best to avoid conversing with strangers in the woods. After having gotten a string of leather from your mother, one which she hung a ring of iron on, you had set off, leading to where you were in the woods now.

You sigh, taking in the fresh air of the forest around you. Being stuck at the cottage all day, allowed to walk no further than the garden, you didn't get too many opportunities to take in the beauty of nature. While initially you had been anxious about the woods, due to mothers warnings, they seemed rather peaceful. The sounds of a nearby stream paired with the gentle breeze make for a relaxing walk. As you hear a twig snap, you think nothing of it, until you look down, noticing that there is no twig under your woven sandal. Something else must have made that noise. You freeze, a feeling of ice in your veins spreading slowly as you look around, trying to discern the source of the noise. After a few seconds, something snaps again. You gasp, now sure that something is nearby. Clutching the basket to your chest, you begin to back away, and as your foot steps land just barely off the path, you hear scurrying. Convinced something is approaching, in a moment of panic you bolt.

Your light footsteps ring out, breathing growing heavy as you sprint away from the path, sandals rubbing harshly on your feet causing them to grow sore. The sound of the approaching beast grows quieter, but you continue to run. You whip your head back for just a moment, to see if you can catch a glimpse of whatever creature is stalking you, when you are suddenly thrown forward. You fall with a cry, slamming into the soft dirt of the forest floor, the contents of your basket scattering as they hit the ground with you. Still panicking, you ignore the pain and sit up quickly, your eyes following your now injured leg to what caused you to trip. Furrowing your brows, as you look closer, you realize you've tripped on some sort of mushroom. A small patch of blue and purple fungi rests where your foot was, stretching around you, as if forming a sort of ring. You hold your breath for a moment, straining as you try and hear any noise from the direction you came. You sigh when you hear nothing, assuming the wild animal has given up the chase in favor of another prey. Now that you feel slightly more secure, you wiggle your ankle a little, trying to work off any pain. Once you're convinced you'll be okay, you take a moment to steady your breathing. Looking to your left, you see the goods you were to give to the apothecary scattered amongst dirt and leaves, but your basket appears to be missing. You gasp, looking to your left and right for the basket, when suddenly a hand appears from behind you, offering you your basket from over your shoulder. You let out a terrified screech, whipping around and scrambling away from the mysterious figure, hands brushing against the edge of the mushroom ring.

As you tremble, your eyes focus on the figure before you. It is not a roguish thief, nor a golden-eyed beast, but rather a bare-chested, wild-eyed young man. He is squatted down on a stump in the center of the mushroom ring, head tilted with a mischievous smile as he peers down at your shaking form. Small horns emerge just past his head of wild, curly hair. Though shirtless, jewelry of animal bones and twigs adorns his neck and shoulders, with splotches of smeared ink and paint spread across his arms and pecs. He would be oddly alluring, if not for the paralyzing shock of his sudden appearance.

"W-who are you?" You exclaim, curling into yourself and staring up at him with a frightened gaze. The odd boy laughs, an impish sound, before leaning forward on his toes, allowing him to peer down at you. "Hmm, I don't know. You first!" He says, grinning as he looks at your face change from fear to confusion, your posture relaxing a little. "Me first...?" You repeat, before you gasp. Mothers scroll, you've already broken one of the rules, 'do not speak to strangers.' You mustn't break another by revealing your name. " I can't say. Besides, I asked you first." You speak out in a moment of boldness, and though his face falls for a moment, taken aback, he smiles once more. "Very well, mortal. They call me Puck, spirit of the northern wood, knave and jester-servant his majesty, the fairy king of the Seelie Court." You tilt your head, rather shocked at his introduction. "A spirit?" He nods. "A fae, in a more specific sense, though I doubt you mortals have an easy time discerning the difference." He sighs, hopping lightly off the oaken stump and shuffling closer to you. "A fae, what is that?"

He lets out a choked gasp at your questions, as if personally slighted. "What is a fae? Have you not heard the legends and tales of my peoples exploits from the drunks and gossipers of your townships, little mortal. We..." He pauses to stand and spread his arms wide, twirling once with a roguish glee. "We are the nurturers of nature, acolytes of the autumn and worshipers of the winter. You owe your fair green fields, evening rains and bountiful harvests to use, you know." He spins back around to face you, leaning down to meet your gaze. "I wonder how you've gone so long, living in neither awe nor fear of my kind." He ponders. You look away, upset about being reminded of your naivety of the outside world. You shrug. "I live with my mother, in no specific town. We are rather isolated, so we don't get the newest information." You explain, and Puck nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. You can't look past his whimsical aura to see the plan forming in his brain. "Aw..." He puffs out his lips, pouting. "Poor mortal, your homely duties allow you no knowledge of the world us fae give you? And no time for jest and entertainment? What a sad life." You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm quite fine with my life, I'll have you know. A-and I get out plenty, I'm delivering good for my mother right now!" You snap, feeling rather patronized by the spirit. He laughs, flopping his head to the side and sticking out his tongue. "You're lying, I can tell. We fae are very keen when sensing deception." "I'm not lying!" Puck only holds his hands up, as if giving you permission to remain in denial.

"Besides," You grab your mother's basket from his hands, ignoring his protests. You quickly begin to place the herbs and plants back into it, very concerned with both making your delivery and getting away from Puck. He seems nice, but... mother had warned you of strangers. As your hands rapidly sift through leaves and dirt, brushing off the produce, you stand back up. You move backwards, not turning your back on the spirit boy. "It's been... interesting to make your acquaintance, but I really must be going if I'm going to make my delivery and return home by nightfall." You attempt to bid Puck farewell and step back over the line of the mushroom ring, but as you do, Puck's eyes widen in momentary surprise. Jolting forward, the wild boy takes you quickly into his arms and leans over you, almost knocking you backwards with the sudden imbalance of your two forms now meshed together.

Despite his thin and lanky stature, his arms and body are surprisingly strong. You can feel his toned muscles press against you in this moment, as his surprise turns back to his grin. "Wait now, sweet mortal friend... there's no need to flee from Puck." He can clearly sense your nervousness, though you can't tell if he truly wishes to ease your fear or enjoys the power he holds over you. "Let me make you an offer-" "I should really-" "No, no, no... just give a spirit a chance, hear my offer before you decline me." He presses himself a little closer to you, though not in a way that makes you feel preyed on, persay. If any other man were to try and hold you to him like this, you would feel sick to your stomach, sure of the man impure and perverse intentions. With Puck though, even though you are frightened by his magical and impish nature, he touch feels almost... nice. He holds you to him, but not tight enough to be threatening, and his lanky limbs hanging from you makes the embrace playful. You open your mouth to speak, but close it, curiosity eating through your nerves. He leans in closely, shaking his head slightly and whispering his offer. "I'll take you to where your delivery is, the-" He pauses. "Apothecary." You finish. "Apothecary, and in turn, you will accompany me for a drink." He presses his forehead to yours playfully, invading your personal space for yet another time as he stares intently at you.

"Oh, no, no, I can't accompany you anywhere!" You take his moment of softness as he waits for a response as a chance to pull yourself from his grasp. To your surprise, he doesn't grin more or even pout at your refusal. Rather, his brows furrow and his smile fades. He seems genuinely disappointed, possibly even hurt. "And for what reason? Surely not for your delivery, as I promised to take you there quicker than any mortals legs could carry them." He inquires. You shake your head. "While I appreciate it, I'm not supposed to speak to strangers, much more accept things from them! My mother says-" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, your mortal mother told you. If I recall, you told Puck that you and your mother know nothing of spirits and fae, so how can you truly know she speaks an accurate portrayal of my people?" He sighs. "I often find the mortals fear us more than they need, just think of me, for example. Has this shadow done anything to offend your nature or kind thus far?" You pause, but then shake your head. "And I'm sure you've broken some of her rules..." You gasp, looking up at him with a bit of a glare, causing him to laugh as he falls back onto the stump. "How did you know about the rules she gave me?" You ask. "I had your little basket with more for quite some time, gave me plenty of time to read." He says. From his hair, he pulls out the worn scroll, and rolls it open, turning to shield it from you when you lunge to get it. "Rule 1, hmm. Well, you've spoken to me, so consider that rule broken." He tears off the top of the scroll, making you groan in frustration. "Rule 2, you've told me no name, so consider that one intact." He moves down to the third rule. "Rule 3, says to accept no food from me, but... it says nothing about a drink...?" He pauses, looking at you. "I- fine, I will accompany you, but I must be home by midnight!" He hops up, and in a rush of glee he throws you up into the air, spinning you in his arms. When he places you back down, still embracing you, it takes you a moment to catch your breath. "You have my word, little mortal, and a faes promise is a powerful thing."

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Several hours later, (though you yourself have lost track of time), you find yourself with Puck, sitting on a smooth rock just beside a waterfall, which leads into a stream. Various flowers of all shapes and colors bloom around you, with one of them producing the sweet nectar which Puck has so graciously been serving the two of you. Despite your initial fear, this evening has been rather enjoyable. Puck tells you much of his life and his people. You learn his works directly under the king, serving as a companion and jester. He regales you with tales of his exploits, from curdling the milk of a farmer mid-drink to scaring a nun into believing she was haunted, nearly driving her mad. He tells you of the king and queen's affairs, the queen's bitterness and the king's anger. You smile, feeling the nectar relaxing you with every sip as you grow sleepy, time becoming of no importance. "More nectar, my mortal friend?" He asks, extending a cup of petals to you. You shake your head, waving him off weakly. "No, I couldn't... truly." He nods and places the vase away.

"Now, what of your home? Tell me what is it a lonely mortal like you does all day?" He inquires, leaning back as he stares at you. "Mmh, I'd tell you if I could think right now, but in all honesty I think this drink is affecting me... perhaps mortals like me are more weak to it?" You ask. Puck chuckles, he himself is calmed by the drink, when he notices your flushed face. Your eyes are dropping, the majority of your body weight leans against the rocks behind you. He often enjoys the drunken antics of his fellow fae, and though he knows mortals to be quite quicker to become inebriated with fae drink, he hadn't expected you to succumb so quickly. In truth, he had only given you a small amount compared to himself, but then he supposed you must not even drink much human ale. "Puck?" You mumble, looking at him through your hooded lids. He is shaken from his thoughts, and nods for you to continue. He tries to focus, but finds your once shy form now relaxed and happy quite charming. "S' getting late, I think... could you take me home?" You ask, slurring your words a little. In truth, he had planned to get the attractive little mortal in a drunken fever with fae ale, and in your combined lustful state enjoy a night of pleasure, before leaving you to find your way back to your human hovel. However, as he argued with you in that mushroom ring, and invited you out, he found himself growing more and more attached, your naive mannerisms and innocence providing a contrast to his wild and knavish behaviors. Now, as you ask for him to return you to your home, he feels the same aching inside him he first felt when you had pulled away from him. He bites his lip, one of his hands wringing and tugging at his leafen skirt, his eyes full of conflict. After a few moments, he swallows, and begrudgingly nods, before attempting to put on his usual grin and try to see unbothered.

"Very well, my mortal friend. Come into my embrace and I shall lead you through these woods to your little mortal abode." He only opens his arms a little, before grunting as you flop into his arms, any resistance sober you would have had completely voided by your drunken stupor and need for warmth. It was rather cold in these woods at night. Puck is taken aback, usually he was the on invading space and hanging uncomfortably off those around him, often being scolded for his perverted clingyness, even among the rather wild and lustful fae. He halts his breath for a moment, before a genuine smiles spreads across his face, though he tries to conceal it behind his smug grin. As his cheeks warm up, he shakes his hair, hoping to cover some of it with the brunette locks. His arms come to sneak under your legs, picking your tired form up and beginning his brisk pace towards your home, which you had described earlier. He knew of it, (as he was sure he'd stolen some herbs from there for some not-so-innocent pranks.)

Upon arriving to your home, he moved silently through the front door, entering your room and gently placing you against your sheets. He places one of the thinner covers over you, pausing to admire your form. Just then, the door behind him opens. Your mother peers in, a look of worry fading as she sees you tucked into your bed, having safely returned from your errand. Though knowing he can't be seen by her, Puck remains still. Once your mother leaves, shutting the door softly behind her, he waits until her footsteps disappear before turning back to you. You groan, and shuffle further under the covers, before looking up at him. "Puck... how come I can see you but mother can't?" He doesn't answer for a moment, as if unsure whether or not to tell you of his trick to scare you into that faery ring with the sounds of a beast, making himself visible to you as your crossed the rings magical threshold. In the end, he decides not to. "Perhaps you're just special?" He suggests with a smile, making you blush. As he looks at you, he clenches his hands, resisting the urge to take you in his arms once more and take you back to the king with him. 'Not yet, not now.' he tells himself. He turns to leave, but your soft voice stops him once more. "Puck?" He nods, turning to face you. "Will you come back and see me?" He feels his heart swell at your request, and he nods. "Of course, you have this fae's word." He flourishes with a bow. You giggle. "And a fae's promise is a powerful thing, right?" You repeat what he had said earlier.

He nods, and with a small gust of wind, disappears behind the blowing of a curtain.

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[dec4podcast]

In this our second Elvis and the Press episode, we’re joined once again by our leading contributor, Gary Wells (soulrideblog.com), to take a deep dive into the coverage of Elvis’ New Year’s Eve performance in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, at the end of 1976. This was the second consecutive New Year’s Eve Elvis had worked, with touring now continuing throughout winter by financial necessity. Elvis’ Pittsburgh show, concluding a very well-received, high energy tour over just five nights, proved to be a remarkable moment in time, and was widely considered one of the best performances of his later career.

Gary takes us through some of the show’s highlights, and we consider in detail a thoughtfully compiled review in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette by music columnist, Mike Kalina, who observed that Elvis ‘had perhaps the most captive audience since Johnny Cash played Folsom Prison, and rarely did he lose his iron grip on the crowd during his 90 minutes on stage’.

The Pittsburgh Civic Arena (later Mellon Arena). It was demolished in in either 2010 or 2011-2012, depending on the source.

We also go on to look at Mike Kalina’s eventful and very successful career as a food writer and cooking personality, and his sad passing in the midst of a professional scandal to which there appears to be much more than meets the eye.

On stage in Pittsburgh, New Year's Eve. On his show in Birmingham, Alabama, two nights earlier, The Birmingham News wrote that ‘Elvis was in good voice, good shape, good health and good spirits. He had lost weight and gained confidence’.

This episode's dedicated webpage has additional background, including the audience recording of the show in full, as well as research notes and links to our sources, with some suggestions for further reference;

And in our post-credits segment right at the end, Gary recalls his most recent visit to Memphis, and what can only be described as an 'interesting' stay at Days Inn, Elvis Presley Boulevard.

The iconic Days Inn swimming pool in happier times. To find out more about Gary's latest visit to Memphis and Graceland, including some great images and a hypnotic video of the walk from the Graceland Gates to the Meditation Garden, check out Walking in Memphis 2024 at soulrideblog.com.

We hope you enjoy our latest episode. Find us on SoundCloud, YouTube, and wherever your get your podcasts.

Concert schedules, stats and press reviews thanks to Francesc Lopez and elvisconcerts.com.

[bigassmoth]

Gifts for various tokyo debunker guys (Vagastrom, Jabberwock, Mortkranken) SFW

Alan: a simple bluefin tuna patch that you ironed and sewed onto his fishing bag. You did it as a prank, coordinating with Leo to snatch the bag while Alan was preoccupied. You both figured he would be confused and question who touched his belongings but ultimately let out his usual defeated sigh before letting it be. But the captain really loved his little fish, making no comment on it's sudden appearance. He always was positioned it to "see" the water while Alan fished. He wants to name it but he's bad with names. Your little joke turned out to be a great source of comfort for Alan, who is very grateful to have a fishing buddy.

Leo: very normal looking non-trending curry from a small mom and pop shop- so spicy even Leo needs milk. At first he was laughing at you for getting him such a cheap gift- don't you know that people send him waaaayyy more during his streams? Whatever, your try-hard NPCness was entertaining enough for the moment. But after getting half-way through, with his eyes red, Leo begrudgingly asks you for the shop location. The cute elderly couple has a new loyal customer. Too bad Leo keeps trying to get you to eat the toxic stuff, though.

Sho: keychain that looks like his motorcycle, where you hand-painted "Bonnie" onto the license plate. He uses it for his foodtruck keys. Typically he avoids such uncool accessories but the little charm has stolen his heart. One day he gets too rough with his lanyard and one of the rear-view mirrors breaks off. Spends the next two hours panicking while he glues it back on. Begins his project to reinforce the motorcycle through pins and resin. Leo says "just buy a new one" to which Sho grumbles, "It would be a pain in the ass to have to paint on 'Bonnie'"

---

Haru: annual membership to a tractor/pet supply store that carries materials and food for exotic and farm animals. Practical gift for a practical guy, he is beside himself in gratitude. The deals he gets as a member would theoretically slow his spending but we know how this guy manages him money- "I got a 20 pack of 50lbs of Horse Electrolytes for only 300,000 yen! Perfect for when we get horse anomalies :) and I also got the stuff I went there for, too." He is so happy you can't bring yourself to scold him for being such a sucker.

Towa: lavender and rose simple syrups which Haru adds to Towa's drinks- otherwise Towa drinks it straight. The guy doesn't need any more energy than he already has so it's usually mixed into a steamer or lemonade. Towa goes through the two big bottles you made within a week- and comes begging you for more (while you are in class). He would love to watch you make them, humming on your counter. After seeing the full process he savors them a bit more- and also starts bringing you mystery plants to make into syrup. Don't use the wolfsbane though, he plans on spiking Ren's energy drinks with that.

Ren: steam giftcard. He is ecstatic,he nearly cries before catching himself. He grumbles out a stiff "thanks" and pockets it. Of course he thinks VERY hard about what to spend it on- he has so many games afterall. He ends up purchasing a limited edition charity pack- one for ocean conservation. It comes with a squid character skin which he never uses but looks at often. He will brag about this cosmetic pack often while carrying you through the levels.

---

Yuri: "worlds best doctor" mug, he scoffs and says that you are passe and unprofessional. It is his favorite mug, he only wants tea in this mug. Sometimes he just looks at it all smugly and polishes it. When Jiro wants to cheer him up, he makes Yuri a cup of tea and makes sure to hand him the mug with the campy "World's Best Dr!" print on display. It always cheers him up a little.

Juri: traditional japanese tea set, at first he is confused. The beaker works perfectly fine, why does he need this fancy and cumbersome set-up? But it is nostalgic and he finds himself handling it perfectly. Yuri complains as the tea now takes longer to prepare- especially since Juri found a mysterious tea-pet on his windowsill and now gives the pet two washes for every pot.

[whencyclopedia]

Ancient Celtic Society

The society of the Celts in Iron Age Europe was made up of several distinct hierarchical groups. At the top were rulers and elite warriors, then there were the religious leaders, the druids, and then specialised craftworkers, traders, farmers, and slaves. Our knowledge of Celtic society is, unfortunately, fragmentary and reliant on secondhand literary sources and archaeology. Nevertheless, there are many features of Celtic society that we do know about, whether it be the status symbols of ancient Gauls or the fighting queens of ancient Britain.

The Constituents of Celtic Society

The Celts have left no extensive written records of their own and so we are obliged to study secondhand accounts by classical authors and piece together features of society from archaeological remains. We do know that most Celtic communities were rural and agrarian with a distinct hierarchy, at the top of which were kings or queens or an aristocratic group, and their kinsfolk whose wealth was based on land ownership. Below these were various groups divided by function and skills such as warriors, druids, specialist artisans and traders (including foreigners). The vast majority of the population were low-skilled craftworkers and farmers; at the very bottom of society were the slaves. Except for slaves, there is no evidence of any barriers for the child of one of these groups to eventually enter another group provided they acquired the necessary wealth (through valour in war, for example) or went through the required education or apprenticeship.

Within Celtic society there was a binding system where powerful individuals undertook to look after others - that is provide food, shelter, legal and military protection - in return for some sort of service, much like in the lord and vassal relationship of medieval feudalism. For the Celts, such a person was an ambactus, and the result was ties of loyalty were established to their lord and the wider ruling class and status quo. Some lords commanded the loyalty of thousands of kinsmen, retainers, and vassals. However, these are generalisations, and as with other areas of Celtic culture, it is important to stress that there were great variations both as the Iron Age period developed in Europe and in terms of geography. In short, Celtic societies in one part of Europe in 700 BCE were perhaps very different from those in another part of the continent, never mind compared to Celtic societies in 400 CE.

Continue reading...

[thefugitivesaint]

'The Stuff', ''Starburst Magazine'', #83, 1985 Source When I was 10 at the time this B-movie emerged from the ground, I had no idea that it was intended as a criticism of Reagan era American consumerism and, more specifically, the failure of federal regulatory organizations like the US Food and Drug Administration due to regulatory capture by the very industries the FDA was charged to oversee (also due to the hostility towards such agencies held by the Reagan administration*) it's a cheap amalgamation of films like Invasion of the Body Snatchers and The Blob and various 50s scifi films. Sure, the acting is both undercooked and, paradoxically, overly exaggerated and the script is less than robust but it's still worth a watch as a satire. The ads for 'The Stuff' within the film are presented straight and are hardly different from advertisements for actual products. In a way, 'The Stuff' is a prime example of iconoclastic, low-budget filmmaking with a message. It would be a great pairing with John Carpenter's 'They Live' given their shared anti-capitalist sentiment (although, to be fair, Carpenter has been open about being perfectly happy to make money). I was recently reading about the director of 'The Stuff', Larry Cohen and came across the following in 'Larry Cohen : the radical allegories of an independent filmmaker', from 1997: "Robin Wood hails Cohen’s work for suggesting potentials for an alternative society devoid of all the oppressive social and gender boundaries affecting human beings today. Larry Cohen’s film and television works are critical of the oppressive nature of human relationships....The Stuff represents an ironic elaboration of the old saying “You are what you eat.” However, the film’s absurd premises really reveal the dangers of American consumerism. Business interests and the Food and Drug Administration collaborate in merchandising a dangerous substance on the market to make a profit. The killer yogurt from outer space destroys people from within. Its victims become mere shells housing a killer substance. Cohen’s message can be read literally as well as metaphorically. The Stuff is an attack upon a corrupt society that often deliberately disseminates food or drugs without even testing them properly." (pgs 29-30)

In summary, the execution of the premise is lacking but still fun. I must rather enjoy 'The Stuff' given how I periodically post about it. *fuck Ronald Reagan. Forever.

[nardo-headcanons]

National Holidays in the Ninja Villages + Bonus

I've had this idea in mind for a while, and now I finally got to write it down. Feel free to use these for your own works. Please tag me so I can read em all! <33

Iwagakure: The Lunar Lights of Gratitude The moon has a special place in the heart of every Iwa citizen. To them, it is a part of the earth, now observing its mother body from space. So naturally, the spectacle of a blue/super moon is a special occasion in Iwagakure. To honor and greet the moon, which is actually called "daughter" in the earth country's language, large fireworks are organized every new moon after a blue moon. As previously established, the earth country's firework industry is the largest, which Iwa shinobi are very proud of. Lighting the sky on fire and turning night into daytime is the Iwa way of giving back some of the light that the moon gives us at night.

Kirigakure: The Moonshine Sea Festival Despite the rivalry between the land of earth and the land of water, there is one thing they have in common, which is their spiritual connection to the moon and space. To water country citizens, especially the fishermen, the moon is a protector and guardian of the night, along with the stars. They strengthen the their connection to their biggest source of both faith and fear: the sea. The special climate in the water country, combined with its great biodiversity give a great habitat for biolumescent plankton, turning the sea itself into a starry night sky. It is one of the only pieces of culture that has been preserved, since the celebration itself was founded by the water country's union of fishermen, who don't belong to a particular clan with a kekkei genkai; most of the kekkei genkai wielders in Kiri have been wiped out, along with their culture, traditions and religions.

Sunagakure: Winter's Return The wind country is often ravaged by agonozingly hot summers, sand storms and heat waves are not a rarity in this country. While foreigners might groan and roll their eyes at the thought of the return to cold, foggy winter days, in Sunagakure it is a day for celebration. On the day where the sun stays for the longest, in the middle of the year, a large celebration is held across the nation. The way it is celebrated is different from family to family, and every Suna family is convinced that their way is the right one. Typically, markets are closed the whole day, and any missions rank B or below are halted for the day.

Kumogakure: Whale Festival of Generosity During winter, whales can be found emigrating along the lightning country's coast line, towards the land of iron. This holiday once came to be to celebrate the whales emigration towards a more prosperous habitat to mate and provide enough food for their young - a truly generous gesture. Over the years, many kumo shinobi have forgotten the old tale behind this festival, and it has turned into more of a mere gift giving occasion. And yet, it is widely popular and celebrated throughout the whole country.

Konoha: Cherry and Plum Blossom Viewing In Konoha, Hanami is annually celebrated. It is a custom celebrating the transitionary nature of cherry and plum blossoms blooming in spring.

BONUS: Uchiha Clan Honoring one's ancestors and traditions is of high importance to the Uchiha. Every year, on a clear fall night, the whole clan gathers together to light up little candles using their katon. The tealights are arranged in the Uchiha crest and left to light up the night and the clan share the evening together eating dinner, drinking hot tea and praying at the nakano shrine.

That's all, folks!

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

How’s this idea for dragons that’s been bouncing around inside my head for years sound? Dragons being ecosystem engineers that reshape their environment by utilizing their fire breath? 

Dragons are large and powerful apex predators, having the power to reshape the land around them to better suite their needs, those Cheifly being access to an abundance of prey and flight friendly land. Utilizing both their fire breath and flight they scorch the earth around their mountain lairs, burning down vast swaths of woodlands during their brief monthly outings, fittingly called “rampages”. Overtime the constant wildfires the dragon causes turns the land from vast forest to highly productive and fertile grasslands, both catering to the dragons needs and opening up new habitats and opportunities for other species. 

Only adult dragons engage in terraforming behavior as unlike the highly active and nomadic juveniles, adult dragons are sedentary and only active for afew days every month during their rampage. During a rampage the dragon will fly all across their territory, burning and devouring everything in sight and causing numerous wild fires as it scorches the earth to both hunt and mark territory. Once satisfied the dragon returns to its lair to rest, entering a deep torpor as they slowly digest their large meal, saving a lot of energy and giving the land a chance to heal before needing to eat again. Once their previous meal is digested and hunger rouses them awake, they will take to the skies to repeat the process all over again for their entire adult life. 

Overtime the repeat burnings will turn once dense forest into fertile grasslands, these creating not just an idle habitat for the dragon itself but also idle habitat for animals the dragon feeds on, redefining the ecosystem in its favor. Large ungulates are the dragons primary food source, greats herds of grazers being attracted to the dragons territory as forest turns to plains. The abundance of ash the dragons burnings leaves behind acts as fertilizer which invigorating the soil to grow thick and healthy plants idle for grazing animals to feed upon. The dragons pheromones also repel most other predators, making it “mostly” predator free aside from the dragon itself. These habitats being very high risk/high reward for the herds that come to inhabit the dragons territory. 

While a fully terraformed habitat is great for an established dragon, it also ironically is highly dangerous for them as well. Attracting its two biggest rivals, other dragons and humanoids who may come to steal the lands it’s created. Dragons are fiercely territorial and defensive of their territory, adult dragons regularly fight over prime real estate, primarily young adults without an established lair or older adults displaced from their previous one being the most common challengers. Humanoids are also a dangerous competitor, attracted to these lands for agriculture and being a terrible mixture of arrogant and ignorant enough to refuse believe the dragon that “terrorizes” their village is responsible for creating the land their settled on and seek to slay it out of fear. 

This is most of the details I’ve been able to come up with over the years. I was wondering if this sounds like a valid niche for dragons to have as its fits their vibe perfectly or if theirs anything else that could be improved on? I’d be thankful for any feedback or criticism you could offer.

honestly, this is awesome. i love that you're giving the fire breath a whole new purpose! I also enjoy the way this affects the social lives of the dragons and provides some new motivations for conflict between dragons and other creatures/people.

[wolven91]

Massacre of Xey Station

The canid flexed their foot, wiggling the toes and rolling their ankle as their knee rested over the other one.

The human watched with fascination. The canid wasn't the human's guardian, but this close to the edge of GC space meant that there was a permanent honour guard of canids that surrounded the vulptanis guardian and the human.

They were currently laying in the tall grass of the station orchid. They were in the surprisingly quiet 'Food sector' of the station. The walls were covered in perfectly manicured mushroom farms, whilst the tallest structures were layered greenhouses, each with sun lamps warming the vegetation that grew beneath them.

The orchid was Oscar's favourite place in the station. Not everyone was allowed in the food sector, certainly not to just sit under the trees here, but being an endangered species had its perks sometimes. The vulptanis, who was reviewing a data slate while he rested against a tree nearby had no worries or fears for the human here.

Ignoring that the canids were veterans, a whole pack who had survived their tour, if not in one piece, were now 'proving' themselves still capable by keeping the human alive. The human was in the secure food sector, surrounded by canids that had their honour and capability on the line. The vulptanis smirked at the idea of a greasy pirate trying something. Best of luck to them.

"That's so cool." Mumbled Oscar at the intricate display of the various pieces and parts working together seamlessly.

"So, the mechanical bit is the 'easy' bit." Growled the canid, a female and leader of the pack. She was laying next to the human while her pack were more on the periphery.

"It's the wet work inside that takes too long. They grow nerves into the metal, so I can wiggle a toe without any tendons or muscles telling the metal what to do." The 'not-quite-grumpy' solider explained while wiggling one toe.

"Does it hurt?" Asked the young man, concern in his voice. The leader smiled, feeling the warmth from the tiny thing.

"Nah. I didn't spring for fancy sensors beside pressure. I can tell when I have my foot on the floor, but not if I'm standing on something sharp." She explained with a shrug.

"How complicated can they get?" He asked, sitting up and looking at it from different angles as he observed the various tiny pistons and wires.

"Not much." She grumbled, obviously annoyed about something.

"Ah man, I'd get like jet boots or something. Fly about, y'know?" Oscar replied, missing her tone and speaking with a dreamier expression, imagining himself as a form of sci-fi Iron Man. The canid snorted at that, grinning widely at his enthusiasm, but shook her great mane as her shoulders sagged under the weight of reality.

"That's illegal." Piped up the vulptanis before frowning at something on his screen, tapping at it with a dull claw.

"Jet boots?" Asked the human, although the orange furred alien wasn't paying attention.

"Mm?" Mumbled the vulptanis absently, having not listened to the question so the canid answered the human instead.

"Theres's regulations." The canid began before ticking the aspects off on her fingers. "Can't be too advanced. Non-wartime mods can only provide the same kind of movement or abilities as your body could realistically do. No overt power sources, only passive improvements. Being lighter, faster, is fine. Concealed mechanics isn't."

"What? Why? Upgrade! It's the future!" Demanded the young man! How dare they curb his sudden plans for a flying suit of armour.

"Because of the Xuy Station Massacre." Put in the vulptanis again. "A canid went mad and began-" But his words were cut off by the canid, who sat up and draped her arms over her knees.

"You're telling it wrong." She stated plainly. The vulptanis's head snapped up and fixed her with a hard gaze that did nothing to her at all.

"Excuse you?" He demanded. The leader shrugged.

"You're telling it wrong." She repeated.

"Fine! You tell him." The guardian scoffed, once again focusing on his data slate and dismissing the others.

"Gladly." Growled the canid before turning to face the human, resting and hand against the ground and resting her biological leg on top of the mechanical one. She used her spare are to gesticulate as she spoke and Oscar gave her full attention, enraptured from the first word into her story.

"So! There was this canid, he got put on guard duty for these archaeologists. They're going to some black site, all hush hush. During the deployment, the whole team gets wiped! He's the only survivor and even then, he only survived on a miracle." The canid explained, gesturing at her own limbs to explain how cut up the one in the story was. "He lost all his limbs, shot over a hundred times-"

A snort from the vulptanis halted the story, but this just had the canid swing her head around to fix the lounging creature with a stare as she repeated herself pointedly.

"Over a hundred times. The folk who picked him up say the only reason they found him was because of his fury, wailing out into the stars."

Oscar leant forward and rested his head against his hands, listening without complaint or question. The canid sat up properly and leant in, lowering her voice so that the story was more intimate and personal.

"Anyway, he gets back to civilisation and gets his paycheque. Huge bonus, and he's let go from the corp, injured and all that. Fast forward a few months, he shows up at Xey Station."

Oscar blinked, unaware of the name, but the tone she used made him assume it was important or a station in a key position. Seemingly aware of the human's ignorance, the vulptanis piped up again.

"Xey Station is a station only one jump away from the GC ring world. It's important. It's where many of the leaders' extended families are." He supplied without much else. The canid gave him a glance, but also a shrug, seemingly agreeing with his description before turning back to Oscar.

"Yeah, that's a point, Xey isn't backwater like this place. Anyway, he shows up to Xey, but they don't know its him. He looks different, he doesn't look like a canid anymore." She explained with a wicked grin. For all the leader's blood lust and history of sanctioned violence, the human was discovering she was a fantastic storyteller.

"What did he look like?" Oscar asked, deliberately falling into her trap of baiting his curiosity.

"A powered down chintian battle mech." She stated in clear, pointed, concise, words.

"He plays dead while they ship him into the storage area, totally unaware he's a living breathing thing. That's when he goes to the Settlement Sector and starts laying waste to everybody!" She declares, her arms going wide in sweeping gestures as she spoke. The energy in her body and words got the human's heart beating faster as she went into graphic details.

"He's got mortars! He's got airbursts! He even had some jury-rigged energy dissipation field! This thing was home made and all just body mods that he adjusted. The scanners didn't pick them up as weapons because they were all marked and tagged as prosthetics!" She explained with a shocked tone.

"It was a dark day for the GC." Grumbled the vulptanis. The canid nodded, but still addressed Oscar.

"And he screwed everyone else who wanted something more than a replacement leg." Finished the canid, clicking her claws against her own metal leg.

"That's why you can't get fancier limbs?" The humans asked and the canid growled and nodded.

"Yeah, you kill a few thousand of the law-maker's nearest and dearest? They come down hard on the problem. Didn't want another massacre." She offered with a shrug. The group fell into a silence for a while before Oscar frowned and breathed in before pausing.

"What caused him to snap?"

The leader shuffled her head to fix the human with her gaze. She blinked; taken aback by the question she hadn't considered.

"Rumour was he saw something that broke his mind at the dig. No one really asked more than that." She explained with a frown before adding; "But, he was definitely the bad guy. The GC showed recordings of him during the assault; kept saying he wasn't 'made this way' and he's 'more than a tool'. "

"That's true?" The human asked, curious.

"Mm, saw the recordings myself. We all have. It's taught in school to kids. Not the killing, they blur that, but it's not hard to search it."

Oscar lay in the orchid for a while longer, contemplating what it was that had burned the canid's mind so severely.

[petermorwood]

Recently I got roped (ha) into an Age of Sail roleplay, and decided I wanted to play the ship's cook. I then realized I don't know too much about provisioning a ship in the Age of Sail! I figured you'd be the sort of fellow to know where I could find resources on that kind of information though?

Well, for a start I recommend sending a similar Ask to @ltwilliammowett (Beat To Quarters) who knows far more about The Age of Sail / Wooden Ships & Iron Men subject than I do.

*****

In the meanwhile here are a couple of books, both of which you may well be able to get through your library, or buy pretty cheaply for your research library. They're also an entertaining read.

The first was recommended to me by Terry Pratchett - "'If you haven't read it, you should!" - when we were at a con together and he was researching "Nation".

It's "Feeding Nelson's Navy" by Janet MacDonald, available here as an ebook and from Amazon as a Kindle Unlimited free read.

The second is "Lobscouse & Spotted Dog" by Anne Chotzinoff Grossman & Lisa Grossman Thomas.

Funny how both books use the same period image - "Shipmates Carousing Below Decks" by William Pyne - as cover art.

"Lobscouse" deals with the same period as "Navy", while also being the author-approved official cookbook of Patrick O'Brian's "Aubrey / Maturin" novels.

Here's a Reddit about making dishes from it, and here's a blog page about making Spotted Dog and why Suet Makes a Difference.

I've already posted about the role correct cooking fats play in making traditional dishes "taste right", and since Atora brand makes both carnivore and vegetarian suets, it's worth tracking down.

Here's a blog page which summarises the Age of Sail diet - think of it as an exam crib to tide you over until you get the books and learn more.

*****

Here's Max Miller of "Tasting History" making lobscouse:

And here are Dylan Hollis and Max making that ubiquitous on-board delicacy and culinary ingredient, ship's biscuit (hardtack / hard-tack / hard tack).

Something very similar was still issued as a ration item at the beginning of the 20th century and into World War One. J.R.R. Tolkien would certainly have encountered Biscuits, Ration, H&P, Army No.4...

...and may well have used them as a basis for the waybread "cram" as mentioned in "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". This description has the ring (hah!) of familiarity about it.

"If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don’t know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise." "The Hobbit" ch.13, "Not at Home"

No.4 biscuits were so hard that soldiers could use them as substitutes for wood...

...and Nelson's sailors probably did the same with theirs.

*****

Terry Pratchett took this wooden quality and - with the dial turned up to eleven - transformed it into the rocky quality of Dwarf bread.

Here's a health nut's real-life version of a healthy nut loaf...

...while this is an example of sedimentary conglomerate rock.

With a bit of judicious cropping, the captions could be swapped and a casual glance would never notice.

Of course this post wouldn't be complete without a certain GIF.

So...

*****

To finish, a few links to more video.

One (12 years ago).

Two - 1 year, including some of the ship's biscuit made in that first one (!)

Three - also 1 year, featuring other dishes - pease pudding ("dog's body"), lobscouse and plum duff. Oh, and ship's biscuit ...

Those are from Townsends, another great source for 18th century food and cooking.

This last example is by Dan Snow, in an extract from a longer History Hits documentary, and is a short general overview of period Navy rations - and of course, ship's biscuit... :->

HTH !