#geralds mailbox
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Hiya! Hope you're having a lovely day!!
Idk if you do art requests but uhh could you possibly draw the character "The Colonel" (played by Monty Python member Graham Chapman) from "Monty Python's Flying Circus" please? Uhh thanks!!
Here you go! Tbh I'm not all that good at capturing actual ppls features but I hope it's good enough 😭
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Meow :[
(You are faced with a cat. A cute, calico cat. This cat is Gerald, Dr. Death Defying's cat. Red Thrill murdered him. Nobody knows why Red Thrill had beef with a cat.)
- @the-shack-cat
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SONIC THE HEDGEHOG 3 TRAILER
bshsbd HIIII yes yes yes!!!! what did you think?? i like the akira slide that was cool that was sick.!! shadow looks good, that shot w maria was good, and the "while you found family and friends, he found pain and loss" was ON POINT. YEEESSS. THE DRAMA!!!! THE EMO!!!!! THE EDGINESS!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH best part so far 10/10. drawing another paralel between Sonic and Shadow, now possible due to Sonic's new tragic backstory, that's the good shit. what did you think?
#that's mostly where my compliments end tho lol#the story seems..... underwhelming..#me and a frjend were trying to figure out what Gerald being alive means and she thinks that means Project Shadow was more recent#i think it's a fine conclusion to draw since gerald should be older? i think? he looks as old as he looked in the games before he died soo..#keanu reeves sucks and is doing bad and should feel bad imo (not just for shadow for being a pos in general)#but also.. WHERE ARE THE GIRLS??? not hide nor hair of any pink hedgehogs or white bats!!!#i swear to god if they give amy's scene to sonic's new white human friend (tom in this case like chris before) i'll kill someone#ANYWAYYY WHAT DID YOUU THINK ABHDND#sorry for being so negative#i will say though the first shot looking like white jungle and the prison island bit were good! i was like yay! s.a2!!#mailbox#starry-river-serval
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Tied Up
Gerald, a short and chubby man in his early sixties, shuffled out to check his mailbox one morning. As he sorted through the usual bills and junk mail, his hand brushed against a strange envelope with ornate handwriting and an elegant seal. Slowly, he opened it to find an invitation to a party this weekend. Gerald’s brow furrowed in confusion as he read the details – where was this party? Who was…
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The Fish in the Envelope
The other day, a fish stranded in the mailbox of Gabriele and Gerald. Not an average fish, of course, no swordfish, no trout, and no mackerel, but a FLUXfish. The strange animal had already visited Pam Chatfield, Mikel Untzilla, Rebekka Schmidt, Aina Enciso, Sabela Baña, Sil Dubois, and The Sticker Dude. Gabriele and Gerald helped the fish to grow stronger and sent him to Italy. But as an…
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#add&pass#Aina Enciso#am Chatfield#Coco Muchmore#fish#FLUXfish#Mikel Untzilla#Rebekka Schmidt#Sabela Baña#Sil Dubois#The Sticker Dude
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I woke up today and saw R hadn’t texted me so I knew I didn’t work today.
I went to feed the outside cats when I saw a letter in the mailbox from CAP. They were requesting information about when Danny worked last at this old last job. We had sent them a separation letter last week and someone told Danny they received the email.
I called CAP and asked them about the letter we got. Come to find out they say they never got the separation letter. I re-send the letter via email.
Thirty minutes later we get a knock on the door. It’s a person from the electric company notifying us they are shutting off our electric. I told them that we should be getting it paid by CAP but it didn’t matter. A few minutes later the electric was off.
I called CAP and told them we were shut off. We had to wait for an answer. An hour later we get a call back saying they paid the reconnection fee and that we need to call electric.
Long story short, we might have to wait a full day until the electricity comes on. The electric company said the check from CAP may take up to a day to process.
It sucks. We’ll be okay though. We won’t open the fridge or freezer unless we have to in order to keep its contents safe.
I wish I would have double checked Friday that they had gotten the email. Or that I hadn’t online shopped earlier in the week. Even though the $50 I spent wouldn’t have gotten us out of this situation.
It is a lesson that we need to be more active on our bills and keeping up with them. It’s just hard when I only made $630 last month. We’ll be fine. And maybe I will be able to get another job later this year if Danny can save up for a car.
I charged my phone up to 56% with Danny’s laptop right before it died. I have been listening to my Gerald’s game audio book to pass the time. Stephen king needs to stop using that sentence he keeps saying, something like “a woman is just a life support for a cunt” lol. That’s all I have to say so far.
I am going to choose to have a good day regardless of if we get electricity back soon or tomorrow
Update: I called again around 4 and they turned it on instantly…lol. Guess hounding them was a good thing. Danny may grill tonight for dinner. It’s a good day
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For once it was actually her feet that couldn’t keep up with her heart. It seemed to be unsatisfied with her pace and was retaliating by trying to escape her chest. She could feel it right underneath the surface of her skin, screaming at her to go faster - setting a rhythm for the rest of her body.
Running through the thick early summer grass was hard enough, but it was made even more difficult by her boots continuously catching on the hem of the long skirt she picked out this morning. It sent a surge of panic through her every time it tripped her up and jolted the front half of her body forward, forcing her to regain her balance over and over again. She could have taken a pause to tie it up into one of her belt loops, but the idea of stopping seemed impossible, like if she stopped she wouldn’t find her momentum again, or would miss whatever it was her heart was so anxious to find.
She had been trying to go about her regular chores in the barn, but the letter in her pocket seemed to be searing a hole right through the fabric, urging her to read it now. Everything around her was starting to feel claustrophobic and small - as if it was all trying to contain her anxious anticipation that was swelling bigger and bigger with every passing moment. She knew that at some point she would burst if she didn’t reveal the secret, so she completely abandoned her brothers and took off towards the most open space she could think of.
She could just make out her youngest brother yelling after her through the whooshing of the wind in her ears as she put distance between herself and the homestead. It was distance she had always craved, and her salvation could be right there on that paper. She knew she couldn’t wait any longer to find out.
The letter had finally arrived this morning after weeks of rising with the sun to wait on the creaky front porch for Old Mr. Gerald, the mailman to arrive. Only a few days into this routine he had stopped putting the letters into the mailbox at all. Instead, he stood on the other side of the gate with his hand outstretched anticipating her impatient, greedy snatch for whatever correspondence had come that day. Her father was quite an important member of the town and typically had several envelopes addressed to him. After furiously sifting through that stack of mail she always came up short in finding any addressed to her.
This morning though, there it was - delicate black lettering spelling out her name across the soft brown of the envelope. Pure excitement rose from her toes and flooded her cheeks with colour the instant she laid her eyes on it. She would’ve ripped it open right then and there but her mother was standing behind her yelling that the chickens wouldn’t bring their own eggs over to the house for breakfast.
Quickly she gave the crisp letter a sniff then stuck it into the folds of the orange skirt to keep it close until she could find time to open it up and know once and for all what was to come for her in this great world.
At this point she’d been running so hard and so fast that there wasn’t breath left in her to give, but the edge of the homestead was in reach. Her favourite place to be - as close to the rest of the world as possible.
As she arrived, she allowed the weight of herself to catch on the sturdy old brown wooden fence that stretched the entirety of her parent’s property. It had been in the family for years, passed on from generation to generation, each one expanding it and making it into something new, but always they upheld the integrity of the family name.
It was odd to her that here on the precipice of change, she was thinking of her past - what quite literally lay behind her now. She let the memories of where she had come from wash over her for a minute. Suddenly she wasn’t so eager to open the letter. Suddenly she wanted to sit with what had been before moving on to what could be.
The bottom of her worn farm boots found the edge of the lowest crossbar of the fence and she hoisted herself up to look over at everything that lay ahead of her.
Fields and fields of gold spanned in front of her and only stopped going when it finally met the crystal clear blue horizon way in the distance. The sun still hadn’t made its full journey to the top of the sky yet, and bright rays shot across the fields making the gold sparkle as if it were the type of treasure that could be made into a crown. To the right of her was a small spanning of trees where the light breeze blew through, circling around the vibrantly green leaves before it reached her sweat-covered brow.
Here she was standing on the edge of before and after, and for one small sliver of time in her life, she decided to not rush through any of it. She allowed herself to be content just where she was.
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Book Fifty-Eight: Lisey’s Story
“Memories screwed up perspective, and the most vivid ones could annihilate time completely while they held sway.”
I’m going to be honest. I’ve really hit a slump here, and am finding it hard to retain my enthusiasm for this project. I will continue on, because I want to end 2020 being able to tell people I read every word Stephen King has ever written; but right now the struggle is real.
Lisey’s Story intensified the struggle. I thought it was long, meandering, and it took too damn long to get to the point. I’m not even sure there was a point. And it includes one of the most graphically creative uses of a can opener I’ve ever heard of. I’m still covering my chest and wincing just thinking about it.
Lisa “Lisey” Landon is still mourning the death of her husband, famous writer, Scott Landon two years after his death. She’s still going through his office, trying to bring herself to donate his manuscripts and assorted sundries when her sister, Amanda, goes into a self-cutting and eventual catatonic state.
Lisey and her other sister Darla don’t know what to do about Amanda. She has a history of harming herself, and her most recent bout of mania was the result of an ex-boyfriend coming back to town with a new wife. Lisey and Darla finally decide to call Greenlawn, the local mental health facility to see if they have a bed for Amanda. Come to find out, prior to his death, Scott had called Greenlawn, and convinced them to keep a spot open for Amanda, just in case. So, Lisey and Darla get Amanda committed, and the entire process dredges up memories for Lisey.
She is drawn back to her memories of Scott, especially some of the ones she can’t explain. She can’t explain why he was so insistent they not have children, or the strange disappearing acts he’d sometimes do, or how he was so quick to heal, or the weird catatonic states he’d go into- so similar to Amanda’s. Scott told her about how his brother went crazy, his dad had to chain him up in the basement (as you do), and after he was eventually killed, Scott transported him to a mythical place called Boo’ya Moon to try and bring him back to life. He was unsuccessful, so he just buried him there instead.
In the midst of all these memories, Lisey starts getting strange phone calls from a man named “Zack McCool,” demanding that Lisey donate Scott’s papers to his alma mater. Lisey is annoyed, and politely tells “Zack” to go fuck himself. He retaliates by leaving a dead cat in her mailbox. And then when Lisey still doesn’t donate the papers, he drugs her, ties her up, and attacks her breast with a can opener. *Shudder*
Once Lisey wakes up, she heads to see Amanda, teleports to Boo’ya Moon, and Amanda is cured. Then, they head back to Lisey’s and wait for John Doolin, aka: “Zack”. Come to find out, Doolin spent time in a mental health care facility with Gerd Allen Cole, a man who shot Scott (Ha! Rhymes!) at a groundbreaking ceremony for a new campus library. So, Doolin picked up Cole’s mantle and ran with it. Well, until he ended up shot, and his corpse was dropped at Boo’ya Moon.
Amanda is cured, the stalker is gone, and Lisey is free to finally get rid of Scott’s belongings. The final chapter of the book concludes with a chapter of his life Scott wrote just for Lisey- all about killing his dad. So romantic, right?
This book was chock full of Steve universe references:
Castle Rock
Derry
“Happy Crappy”
Lisey is from Cleave’s MIlls
Gilead
Dark Score Lake
Chambray work shirts
Norris Ridgewick
Andy Clutterbuck
“Lit out for the territories”
And the most 2020 reference of all, was when Scott was dying and Lisey had to visit him in the isolation ward. “We think he has some exotic pneumonia, possibly even the Bird Flu, but whatever it is, we haven’t been able to identify it...It’s really doing a number on him. As the saying is. Just a mask should be enough, Mrs. Landon, unless you have cuts...”
Ah, the quaint old days of Bird Flu. #nostolgia
In case you couldn’t tell, Lisey’s Story just bored the crap out of me. It was too long, and I just didn’t care by the end of it.
Total Wisconsin Mentions: 38
Total Dark Tower References: 54
Book Grade: D
Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books
The Talisman: A+
Wizard and Glass: A+
Needful Things: A+
On Writing: A+
The Green Mile: A+
Hearts in Atlantis: A+
Rose Madder: A+
Misery: A+
Different Seasons: A+
It: A+
Four Past Midnight: A+
The Shining: A-
The Stand: A-
Bag of Bones: A-
Black House: A-
The Wastelands: A-
The Drawing of the Three: A-
The Dark Tower: A-
Dolores Claiborne: A-
Nightmares in the Sky: B+
The Dark Half: B+
Skeleton Crew: B+
The Dead Zone: B+
Nightmares & Dreamscapes: B+
Wolves of the Calla: B+
‘Salem’s Lot: B+
Song of Susannah: B+
Carrie: B+
Creepshow: B+
From a Buick 8: B
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon: B
The Colorado Kid: B-
Storm of the Century: B-
Everything’s Eventual: B-
Cycle of the Werewolf: B-
Danse Macabre: B-
The Running Man: C+
Cell: C+
Thinner: C+
Dark Visions: C+
The Eyes of the Dragon: C+
The Long Walk: C+
The Gunslinger: C+
Pet Sematary: C+
Firestarter: C+
Rage: C
Desperation: C-
Insomnia: C-
Cujo: C-
Nightshift: C-
Faithful: D
Gerald’s Game: D
Roadwork: D
Lisey’s Story: D
Christine: D
Dreamcatcher: D
The Regulators: D
The Tommyknockers: D
Next up is Duma Key, which I’ve heard great things about. And the first ten pages are already more promising than Lisey’s Story. So there’s that.
Until next time, Long Days & Pleasant Nights,
Rebecca
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Happy Halloween™️
trick or treat !!
I SWEAR IR SAYS TRICK PLEASE I HAND DREW THE FANCY LETTERING 😭😭😭😭
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(The handwriting is messy and there's a couple things crossed out)
Deer dear Pheonix Witch,
My spelling isent very good, Im trying to get it rigt right.
Im sorry I havent writen to you in a wile, Ive been busy Ive been having a hard time. Im doing beter thogh. I've been sober. Cherri's proud of me, and Im happy.
I hope your doing good to. I should visit the mail box more not just to leave this leter.
Thank you for takeing care of Cherri.
Bon Bon asked me if you took good care of peple, I said you did, be cause you were always nice to me. Thank you.
-Kobra
*a letter appears on the ground next to the mailbox with a single black feather lying on it, it is addressed to Kobra Kid*
Dear Kobra Kid, I thought I'd try out writing you a letter, it's not something I've done before, but I enjoy receiving letters from killjoys, and the dead always get excited when I deliver their mail. It is good that you're doing better. I'm proud of you too. Fixing yourself up isn't easy, but it's worth it, as far as I've seen. I've seen too many people give up and end up here, it's far easier to make things right from your side of the coin than mine. I'm doing fine, thanks for asking. Nothing much ever changes here, except for the occasional visiting ghosts, so I'm always alright. Tell Cherri and Bon Bon hello from me, and all your other friends. Tell Fun Ghoul he's doing very well at not dying as much. Tell Party Poison they should visit again sometime, I miss them. Pat Gerald for me.
XOXO the Phoenix Witch
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This is true and real of you
BSBDDHBSHSBDHD thanks tc <33 i wasn't really bettjng on it but like you said, would've been nice to be proven wrong. i knew the va choice was a bad one from the start but hoo boy...... that was one i really wanted to be proven wrong :/
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how does mail get to wick hills if the location changes all the time? do they have a post office?
YALL HOW HAVE I NEVER TALKED ABOUT WICKHILLS POSTMAN I LOVE HIM SM
he literally has his own custom white noise generator i made called “The Unsettling Post Office”
nobody knows who the postman is. sometime people see him out the window, but if you go out the door to say hello, he’s somehow made it all the way back to his truck already and is driving away, or he’s just poofed entirely
in general everybody can agree he is a pretty generic looking guy, but nobody ever quite gets a good look at his face.
The post office has normal post office hours, but you go in and everything is suspiciously automatic? theres signs giving you directions on how to fill stuff out (was that sign there before i needed to know this is cant quite remember) and some kind of bizarre postal-self-checkout machine that looks like an 80′s ATM crossed with a phone booth and a little slot to drop your mail
theres all kind of funny theories about who what The Postman is, if its a mantle passed on from person to person or if its one guy who made some ill-advised comment about loving his job in front of a Good Neighbor -
but the general consensus is that he’s definitely not fae (he doesn’t seem bothered by the protections on the houses, and some of the mailboxes literally are steel) but he’s probably not totally human
I call him Gerald
#love and other fairytales ask#laoft postman#seriously HOW have i not told yall about my boy gerald#dreamyzworldlove#ask
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Walter Joseph Kovacs was born on March 21, 1940, the son of Sylvia Kovacs, who was a prostitute, and an unknown father only known to Kovacs as "Charlie". His mother was frequently abusive and condescending towards him. In July 1951, at the age of 11, Kovacs became involved in a violent fight with two older bullies, and subsequently his living conditions were finally looked into. He was removed from his mother's care and put in "The Lillian Charlton Home for Problem Children" in New Jersey, where he rapidly seemed to improve, excelling at scholastics as well as gymnastics and amateur boxing. In 1956, after leaving the Charlton Home when he was 16, Kovacs took a job as a garment worker in a dress shop, which he found "bearable but unpleasant" partly because he had to handle women's clothing; it was here that he acquired a certain dress fabric that he would later fashion into the mask he wears as Rorschach. In 1962, Kovacs scavenged the material from a rejected dress that had been special-ordered by a young woman with an Italian name. Though Kovacs learned how to cut and fashion the material successfully with heated implements, he soon grew bored with it, as it served him no real purpose at the time.[14]
Two years later when buying a newspaper on his way to work in March 1964, Kovacs read about the rape and murder of Kitty Genovese, who he believed was the Italian woman who had rejected the dress. Ashamed by what he read about the unresponsiveness of her neighbors, Kovacs became disillusioned with the underlying apathy that he saw as inherent in most people. Inspired by Genovese's fate, Kovacs returned home, made "a face [he] could bear to look at in the mirror" from the dress's fabric, and began fighting crime as the vigilante Rorschach. Initially, Kovacs left criminals alive, but bloodied, for the police to arrest, leaving a calling card in the form of a Rorschach test at every crime scene. In the mid 1960s, he teamed up with Nite Owl II, a partnership which proved highly successful at battling organized crime.[14]
In 1975, an investigation into the kidnapping of a young girl named Blair Roche led to the transformation of the "soft" Kovacs into the ruthlessly uncompromising Rorschach. He tracked the kidnapping to a man named Gerald Grice. At Grice's shack, Kovacs found evidence Grice had killed the girl and had fed her remains to his dogs. Discovering this, Rorschach suffered a psychotic breakdown, killed the dogs with Grice's meat cleaver and waited for his arrival. When Grice returned, Rorschach hurled the corpses of the dogs through his windows, handcuffed him to a stove, and poured kerosene around him. Leaving Grice a hacksaw, Rorschach told him that his only chance to escape would be by cutting off his hand. Rorschach then set the shack on fire and left. No one emerged.[14] During a later psychological evaluation, the vigilante stated that Kovacs went into the shack, but that Rorschach came out.
When the Keene Act was passed in 1977 to outlaw vigilantes, Rorschach responded by killing a wanted serial rapist and leaving his body outside a police station with a note bearing one word: "never!"[15]
In WatchmenEdit
By 1985 and the events of Watchmen, Rorschach is the vigilante who continues to operate in defiance of the Keene Act, the rest having retired or become government operatives. He investigates the murder of a man named Edward Blake, discovering that he is the Comedian. He believes that someone is picking off costumed superheroes,[16] a view that strengthens when Doctor Manhattan is forced into exile[17] and when Adrian Veidt, the former vigilante known as Ozymandias, is targeted in an assassination attempt.[18] Rorschach questions Moloch, a former supervillain who unexpectedly attends Blake's funeral, who tells him what little he knows.[19] Later, after reading a note written by Moloch telling him to come over for more information, Rorschach visits him again, only to find him dead, shot through the head. The police, tipped off anonymously over the phone, surround the house. Rorschach scolds himself for falling into such an obvious trap, and is arrested after a fight, in which Rorschach tries to escape by jumping through a window, but is unmasked. After the unmasking, Rorschach is revealed to be the red-haired man who, in addition to being the first character to appear in the series, was shown several times in the early chapters carrying a sign reading "THE END IS NIGH".[18]
Rorschach is sent to a prison where many of its inmates are criminals he put away, including Big Figure, a dwarf crime boss who is hungry for Rorschach's blood. During his incarceration, he is interviewed by the prison psychologist Dr. Malcolm Long. Long believes he can help rehabilitate him; instead, Rorschach's explanation of his life and his justifications for his uncompromising worldview lead Long to question his own views.
One day during lunch, one of the inmates attempts to attack Rorschach with a shiv, whereupon Rorschach throws the boiling-oil contents of a deep-fryer into his face in self-defense.[14] As the guards grab and begin to beat him, Rorschach hoarsely yells at the watching crowd, "None of you seem to understand. I'm not locked in here with you. You're locked in here with me."[20] After the inmate dies, the prison breaks out in a riot. The Big Figure and two of his associates try to kill Rorschach, but he outwits and ultimately kills them all in rapid succession. Rorschach's two former colleagues, Nite Owl II and Silk Spectre II, begin to take his "mask killer" theory seriously and break him out of jail to follow up on it.[21]
After the prison break, Dr. Manhattan comes back from his self-exile to transport Silk Spectre II to Mars.[21] After acquiring a spare costume from his apartment, Rorschach, along with Nite Owl, enters underworld bars to find out who ordered the assassination attempt on Veidt. They obtain a name, a company called Pyramid Deliveries, and then break into Veidt's office. Nite Owl correctly deduces Veidt's password and finds that he runs Pyramid Deliveries. Rorschach, who has been keeping a journal throughout the duration of the novel, realizes that they may be no match for Veidt. He makes one last entry in his journal, stating his certainty that Veidt is responsible for whatever might happen next, and drops it into a mailbox.[22]
Nite Owl and Rorschach fly out to Antarctica.[22] There they learn the true nature of the conspiracy and Veidt's motivations: to unite the world against a perceived alien threat and stop the possibility of a nuclear holocaust. Veidt then reveals that he set his plan into motion well before they arrived.[23] Doctor Manhattan and Silk Spectre II arrive at the base after viewing the carnage Veidt's false alien has wrought on New York City. Despite their mutual horror, Nite Owl, Silk Spectre II and Doctor Manhattan all agree to keep quiet about the true nature of the events when the United States surprisingly does enter into a peace accord with the Soviet Union.
Rorschach states the others must be joking, and leaves to tell the world. Dr. Manhattan confronts him outside, telling him he cannot allow Rorschach to reveal the truth. Refusing to compromise his principles, Rorschach understands he will be killed. He removes his mask and demands that Manhattan just "do it", which he does.[24]
In the final scenes of the comic, Rorschach's journal has made it to the offices of the New Frontiersman, a right-wing newspaper. Outraged by the new accord between the Soviet Union and the United States, the editor pulls a planned two-page story. He leaves it to his assistant Seymour to decide how to fill that space, and Seymour begins to reach for the paper's "Crank File," which contains the journal. The outcome is ambiguous.[24]
Events of Doomsday ClockEdit
The events of Doomsday Clock begin with Robert Redford winning the 1992 election by using the details of Kovacs' journal, which he gained from the New Frontiersman, leading the citizens of New York to rally against Ozymandias, while the United States faces an inevitable nuclear war.[
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hughes’ offensive and defensive magic
... from: Michael M. Hughes, Magic for the Resistance (2018)
Resistance magic is not always nice.
While many popular books on witchcraft claim that magic should only be used for healing and “positive” ends, I strongly disagree. Magic has always been used for self-defense and in defense of others. The idea that it should not be used defensively or to inhibit the actions of others is a twentieth-century invention, and the entirety of the historical record, from ancient times through the present, makes that abundantly clear.
When I published the Trump binding spell, I expected to encounter resistance from fundamentalist Christians and orthodox religious types. After all, in their view, all magic is evil and the work of the devil, including magic done for healing and positive outcomes (benefica). I even baited them a bit by throwing in the phrase, “demons of the infernal realms,” knowing it would tie their underpants into knots and send them into paroxysms of prayer for their beloved “Christian” president.
But it takes a lot of work to conjure demons, as any competent ceremonial magician knows, and they're not just going to do what you ask them—like any employee, they won't work unless they're paid. And as I've stated elsewhere, I prefer to work respectfully with cooperative and helpful spirits, not the lowlife dregs of the astral realms.
However, as I replied to some of my fundamentalist critics, I would be absolutely delighted to have the cooperation of any and all infernal spirits willing take a whack at the horrid demons infestmg Donald Trump—the demons that make a man believe grabbing women by the pussy is kosher, for example, or the demons that make him enjoy mocking someone with disabilities. The demons that make him believe dumping coal waste in mountain streams is morally acceptable seem especially malign.
Not only did I expect harsh criticism from the religious right, I egged them on. Their overblown reactions even helped further empower the binding spell (because that's how magic works). What I did not expect was a wave of blowback from the witch and Pagan communities.
Many of my Pagan critics pointed to the threefold law of Wicca as their reason for condemning the spell. This law says that any negative magic (malefica) you do comes bouncing back at you with three times the consequences. If you curse someone and they break their leg, the bad mojo is gonna come careening right back at you and break your legs and your arms and burn down your house. It's a variant of karma, just with a moralistic edge against what is presumed “bad” magic.
I respectfully pointed out that the threefold law was very likely the creation of Gerald Gardner, one of the originators of modern witchcraft, and didn't appear until he inserted it into one of his novels in the middle of the twentieth century. And many witches, particularly non-Wiccans, don't consider it part of their tradition anyway. While I do acknowledge the reality of karma, my experience is that it is a much more complex phenomenon than the simple equation "do bad—get hurt." First, who defines what is good and positive or bad and negative? Like most ethical issues involving complex human beings and their societies, it is far from simple to label most actions simply good or bad.
Just think of something as simple as owning a pet cat that you've rescued from a shelter. A good act, right? Absolutely—both you and the cat would agree. But that cat requires food, which means meat (and please don't try to turn your cat vegan). So the fact that you saved the cat means many animals, most of which are raised in horrid factories, are suffering and dying to feed it. If you let the cat outside—which you may feel is a positive experience for your pet—it might kill endangered songbirds.
Some of my witch critics said binding spells were inherently negative because they aim to thwart the target's desires and intentions. That any magic inhibiting someone's will is, by definition, harmful. It's a good point, so let's examine it with a couple of thought experiments.
• Your child is being stalked by an adult with a history of abusing children. You have done everything you can to get police to detain or restrain him, with little success because you don't have actionable evidence. You know the abuser is still actively seeking your child because you saw him sitting in his car across from the school playground where your child was playing.
• A state senator is on the verge of passing legislation to pave a local wetland to put up a strip mall. The wetland has been declared critical for protecting the local watershed from nearby farm runoff. In fact, your well draws water from an aquifer that is threatened by the development.
• You just moved to a small rural town. You and your partner are married and have adopted two mixed-race children. A local fundamentalist minister is whipping his congregation into hating you because “marriage is between a man and a woman,” and “children need a father and a mother, not two mothers.” Your children are increasingly bullied to the point where they dread going to school. The teachers have tried to help, but the minister's hold on the parents is too strong. Today you opened your mailbox and found a letter threatening to kill you and your children if you “disgusting perverts” don't move out of town.
• The drug your mother needs to stay alive has gone from five dollars per pill to two hundred dollars, all thanks to a pharmaceutical company CEO. You have no idea how you're going to pay for the life-saving medicine.
So ... would binding spells or hexes be okay in those situations?
Yes, those are extreme examples. But every day corporations, politicians, corporate executives, lobbyists, cops, judges, ministers, lawyers, and other authorities make decisions that cause serious harm to accent people, animals, and ecosystems.
Witchcraft and magic are tools. When you, someone you love, or a place with great beauty and spiritual power is threatened, why would you not use all the tools at your disposal?
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could you write something where you take nick to one of your family cookouts to meet your family for the first time
A/N: AHHHH!!! One for my Lil WhiteBoy!! I hope it’s ok I put a lil southern twang on it. And for my Zion requesters I see you I will post them either really late or tomorrow morning cause I wanna get them perfect
“Y/N IS HERE!!! And she brought some white boy?!”your cousin yelled your announcement to the whole family.
And yes you brought some white boy: Nick Mara. You guys have been dating for almost a year, and he hasn’t met your family. You met him in Jersey, and you left knowing how to cook his Italian favorites. It’s not like you were ashamed, it’s just no boy was good enough for your family. But they would love Nick, because you loved him.
“Ok baby, are you ready?”you asked for the ninth time that day. ““Yes boo I’m ready! Let’s go inside?”he pulled your arm to the door. ““Wait! Before we go in so you remember the rules?” ““Yes baby: watch out for Auntie Angie, cause she loves men who are in relationships, Uncle Gerald will talk me to death if he’s off the henny, and your cousin is upset with white people callin the police on black people, so she’ll call the police on me if I look at her for too long. Are you ready”Nick joked. “Ooooh!! I’m so proud of my baby!”you squealed. ““You’re ready. Let’s go.” You guys walked into the house. ““Hey everyone!!”you yelled earning a few ““hey y/n!
““My baby! She home!” Your mother wasn’t the first to hug you. ““Oh my God! Everything but that BOOTY had gotten small! Have you been eating?”your mother twirled you around.
““Aww hush Sharlene! And let me hug my baby girl!!” ““DADDY!!”you yelled. You gave your parents a big hug and answered your aunts and uncles questions. You were so caught up in 20 different conversations, you forgot about Nick. Your cousin Trevante, was the the first to notice.
““Uhh who the hell is this white boy? Baby the white family’s mailbox is 204 not 104!”he yelled. ““This white boy is my boyfriend Tre. Everyone this is Nick!”you introduced your family to the love of your life. ““Hey everyone.” Nick awkwardly stood there. It was quiet for a minute then greetments erupted the room. Everyone rushed over to hug Nick, and welcome him. “How long have you guys been together?” Your mom asked. ““Almost a year ma’am.” Nick proudly answered . ““And you haven’t brought him home? I outta whoop you!”your mom joked. ““Well Nick. Consider yourself home and fix you a plate. Everything is done.”your mom said leading you two to the kitchen where Auntie Angie was sitting.
“Is that my favorite niece?!”your aunt squeaked, running over to hug you. ““Hey aunt Angela.”you dry said giving her a church hug. She didn’t seem to notice though, her eyes were on Nick. ““And who might you be?” She showcase her cleavage. ““I’m Nick. Y/N’s boyfriend.” He put his arm around your waist. “I see you Y/N! Say Nick are you Italian?”your aunt asked. ““Yea how did you know?” ““I know my men.”she purred. “Oooooh! Y/N got her a spicy white!”your cousin Trevante interrupted. ““Angela sit yo drunk ass down and let them eat!” Tre was the only one to be rude to your aunt or any elders. He didn’t care if you were old or young; if you were a wack bitch he was gonna he disrespect you. ““Now come on y’all come fix you a plate!” The first thing Nick noticed was the Mac and cheese. “Y/N, what’s this?” ““Oh that’s Mac and cheese.” You answered. ““Are you sure? This doesn’t look like macaroni.” ““That’s cause it doesn’t come out if a box.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After you guys ate you went outside to the porch where there was music playing. You were comfortably sitting in Nick’s lap listening to the crickets when you heard the intro to “Back that Azz Up” you quickly jumped up with you other cousins and started throwing that ass in a circle. Nick just stared at you. You were wearing that yellow off the shoulder sundress that made it easier for him to slip his hand through. And the way that ass was moving! If he wasn’t in front of your family specifically your father, he would’ve taken you by the hips and-
““Whew! Haven’t heard that in a while! Daddy can you get me a bottle of water please?”you asked out of breathe. All of a sudden your father and Nick’s ass stood up at the same time. There was a stare off between the two to see who would move. The whole backyard was quiet to see if nick would be bold enough to move. Nick puffed out his chest and went to the cooler to get you your bottle of water. He didn’t break contact from you father the whole time. ““Here you go baby.” Nick kissed your cheek just to say “Yea I be blowin your daughters back out. Every. Night” “Oooh!! Y/N be gettin that lil pepperoni stick!” Your cousin tried to high five you.
“Shit” is all you said.
A/N: Comment and remember request are open!!
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Nevada Mailbox: Gerald Mack "Andy" Anderson Obituary - The State Journal-Register
Nevada Mailbox: Gerald Mack "Andy" Anderson Obituary - The State Journal-Register Nevada Mailbox Gerald Mack "Andy" Anderson Obituary - The State Journal-Register by Nevada Mailbox on Sunday 28 August 2022 12:31 AM UTC-05 | Tags: las-vegas-nevada-mailbox He became active in the United Federation of Postal Clerks' union and held positions at the local, state, and regional levels. Collierville TennesseeMichigan City IndianaDowntown San Francisco CaliforniaLong Beach New York August 27, 2022 at 05:20PM Tags: las-vegas-nevada-mailbox You received this email because you set up a subscription at Feedrabbit. This email was sent to you at mpcmvnj2@jenniferhenao.anonaddy.com. Unsubscribe or change your subscription. Minnesota MN Mint Hill North Carolina Mississippi Missoula Montana Monroe Louisiana Mississippi Georgia Connecticut Wyoming Mailbox/ August 28, 2022 at 12:50AM via http://michiganvirtualpostoffice.blogspot.com/2022/08/nevada-mailbox-gerald-mack-andy.html August 28, 2022 at 03:31AM
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