#hard water areas in india

[paqos-india]

India is a vast country both in terms of geography and demography. There is not one but multiple reasons for the water situation to be worsening without any water solution.

For more information read our informative blog about India And Its Hard Water Crisis

[elbiotipo]

Notes on a South Asian Tropical Cyrodiil (and more!)

So, many TES fans know that before Oblivion, Cyrodiil was supposed to be tropical. The most striking phrase to describe it, "most is endelss jungle", says it all. The quick and snarky explanation is that Todd Howard watched LOTR, was "inspired" by it, and that's why everything in Oblivion looks sort of like a Rennaisance Fair. In any case, I think it was a huge missed opportunity, especially in a world where most popular fantasy is European inspired, to have replaced what could have been very cool tropical enviroments with what is frankly a lame "Talos used his magic" lore retcon. You can read the 1st edition of the Pocket Guide to the Empire to see what we missed.

But it's not only Cyrodiil which we missed this way… Tamriel just makes more sense as a tropical continent. While the size and the exact location of the continent is discussed by nerdier nerds than me, I think it does make sense like this, and not only that, we have a very interesting world parallel to compare it to: India. From a tropical rainy south to the cold mountains of Skyrim, Tamriel is surprisingly similar to the Indian subcontinent, and many of its geographical quirks can be explained if, instead of assuming a temperate Cyrodiil, we go all out with that concept. This is going to be a long post, you have been warned.

So with that in mind, I'll try to make a not-so brief tour (with some evocative pictures along the way) of a rebuilt tropical Tamriel, following the rains of the moonson:

The position of Tamriel, in this case, would be roughly where the Indian subcontinent is located in real life, that is again, tropical, stretching the Tropic of Cancer (is there a name for the tropics of Nirn? Interesting to think about) Here, we see our numbers pan out well: Tamriel is mentioned to be between 4000 and 3000km across east to west and 2000 and 3000km south to north. VERY, VERY roughly, there is 4000km between Pakistan and Myanmar, and 3000km from Sri Lanka to the northern tip of Tibet. Plot that on a map, and you already can see some coincidences. Now, this is a rather average continent, not Pangea sized like some imagine Tamriel to be. This does help explain why, for example, the interior of Cyrodiil is rainy and good for agriculture instead of a desert. But it also means that it's very likely that Tamriel is ruled by monsoons. Monsoons are complex, but they basically form when there are plenty of warm places for water to evaporate (the South Indian ocean), and mountains that block cool winds from the opposite direction (the Himalayas). We have a very similar situation here, with a mountainous Skyrim on the north of a tropical Cyrodiil facing an equatorial southern ocean. So, what happens are monsoons, perhaps not as strong as IRL India, but carrying rains very deep into the continent. This would feed the rivers and the rich agricultural areas of Cyrodiil, and would have some other consequences.

So let's imagine our trip South to North. In the South, in Black Marsh, Blackwood and Lleyawiin, and Pellentine (southern Elsweyr) we would find, much like in the original lore, humid tropical climates, jungle, wetlands, and my favorite, mangrooves. I would expect mangrooves to stretch in this whole area, across rivers. In fact, one of the reasons why Black Marsh could be so hard to explore and control by the Empires at Cyrodiil would be the presence of thick mangrooves all over its coast. This is the region of Cyrodiil that would most resemble "endless jungle".

(Rice fields in India, what I imagine most of this Tropical Cyrodiil would look like)

However, as any lore person knows, Anequina, northern Elsweyr, is arid desert. Does this mean a contradiction? Far from it, we have a similar example in IRL India: the Deccan Plateau, which has a semi-arid to arid climate. This can be easily explained by higher elevations up to a small mountain chain separating it from Cyrodiil to the north, and the fact that little rain would reach behind this "Anequina Plateau" would make the region of Kvatch and Anvil more dry much like in canon, in this case, more scrublike. This highland desert would not be as harsh as Elsweyr is usually concieved, maybe, but its driest regions might justify places such as Dune. (On that matter, it always bothered me to read about the "cities" of southern Elsweyr and there being only two or three there. If I had to redesign it, I would move some from the north to the south).

(the Deccan Plateau in India, it gets greener or drier according to the monsoon)

Keeping on our tour of Tamriel, the Topal Bay and the very rainy Black Marsh funnels the rainy monsoon from the south towards central Cyrodiil. Here we find the endless jungle of the Nibenay Valley. But unlike the rainforests of Elsweyr and Black Marsh, these dense forests and rich river plains are mediated by the monsoon winds, with dry seasons alternating with copious rain. This has huge effects on agriculture and culture in general, as agriculture is defined by the rythms of the rain. Keeping with our South Asian theme and the 1st edition of the Guide to the Empire, Cyrodiil would have huge extensions of rice paddies, as well as terrace farming and much hardier crops in the highlands, instead of the… well, almost absent agriculture we saw in Oblivion. The food, clothing, architecture and overall culture of Cyrodiil would be very different with this. The original Pocket Guide said some of its main exports besides rice and fruit are moon sugar and silk. Moon sugar in Cyrodiil, can you believe it?

Another thing I imagine Cyrodiil would be famous for would be fish and seafood, well, river food. Rice plantations can host fishes and crustaceans to get some extra protein, and well, what about mudcrabs? Hell, as preparing muddy soil is vital for rice cultivation, no wonder mudcrabs are considered a nuisance. Imagining critters in gameplay in such an enviroment also makes my mind roam. Tigers, elephants, rhinoceros, and this is not even getting into the more mythical creatures you could find, instead of endless wolves… Rice cultivation is also more labor intensive than other crops, and it also has a deep impact on the terrain, "terraforming" so to say, huge expanses into paddies and terrace farms. This level of cultivation also requires an established infraestructure of irrigation. While this does not necessarily means a centralized goverment, as farmers can build it and maintain it by themselves, the rise of an empire, i.e., the Empire, will also increase the complexity of these systems, adding canals, dams, reservoirs and more ambitious projects, like we see in India and China. I am sure some people more knowledgeable about those cultures can comment more.

While this Cyrodiil is a tropical/subtropical region covered in "endless jungle", some parts might indeed resemble the rolling hills and grasslands you see in Oblivion. Deforesting jungle for pasture is something very common around the world (some have joked this mass deforestation was later in canon explained as a gift from Talos lol) and you can see the results, like in tropical Australia and my closer Mata Atlantica, do superficially resemble temperate pastures in say, Europe. Until you notice the palm trees, of course. But yes, I can see the Nords being a mostly herding people (more on that below) bringing their sheep and cows to the tropical lowlands and, well, deforesting to make space for them.

(ranches in Sao Paulo state, Brazil, notice the palm trees)

Imperial City just so happens to be built in an island in the middle of several river crossings, in what seems to be a swampland. The first thing that came to mind when I read that was Tenochtitlán. The districts of Imperial City would have been built over the centuries on artificial islands on a shallow lake, using plentiful mud and organic matter to make fertile chinampas. I believe this would make for a striking sight. Instead of just a city in the middle of a empty island, you would see the White-Gold tower and the rest of Imperial City rising from Lake Rumare, surrounded by rich farmland and its districts joined by walkways. (much like the old descriptions, actually, could you believe I wrote that without reading them?)

(Reconstruction of Tenochtitlán... and I just noticed, it's surrounded by (volcanic) mountains too, much like Imperial City)

Much like the Pantanal is one of the sources to the Paraguay River (which merges with the Paraná and then the Río de la Plata) IRL, here, the swamps of central Cyrodiil would be the source of the Niben. This does raise an interesting question, where is the source of the Niben? Is it Lake Rumare? No, I believe it would be several smaller rivers all the way from Bruma and even Skyrim. These small, violent mountain rivers eventually flow into the Rumare wetlands and only THEN in the placid great Niben. You DON'T want to be caught in one of the mountain valleys in rainy season. This does raise the question; won't the developments upriver, like Imperial City itself and the surrounding farmland, affect the course of the river downwards? There's plenty of water from the rain, but a more developed Cyrodiil might indeed have to grapple with this, supposing, for example, they manage to dam the river.

Looking west, we got the Colovian region, said to be composed of drier highlands and cliffs in the early Pocket Guide. Probably cut from the rain because of the Anequina Plateau, this is indeed more arid or "mediterranean", though I actually see it as more Australian. Maybe some of the drier parts near Hammerfell, resembling Argentine Cuyo and the northwest, would be a distant cry from the wetlands, having thorny dry forests and dry valleys, where yes, you could plant wine. The wetter cloud forests (much like the Yungas in South America, the place where the rain reaches last) could maybe be the home of the last pre-Imperial cultures of Cyrodiil. Fascinating places.

(Jujuy, Argentina. Just *near* are the Yungas cloud forests, where the last rains from the Atlantic meet the Andes, making for some AMAZING places)

Given that I mentioned enviroments near to/on the Andes IRL, let's talk about potatoes. Potatoes are unique crops, because they are the only ones who offer such calories and also be planted in cold enviroments like Europe. Or Skyrim. The discovery and spread of potatoes would cause demographic shifts on people living in cold areas. And they also originated in a unique enivorment IRL: the Andes, actually with possible hybridization from the Magallenic foresWHAT I MEAN, is that potatoes are very important and have been domesticated in very specific conditions. The Wroghtgarian Mountains would seem like a perfect equivalent of the Andes at the first glance, but they would be very different. The Andes, located between the Pacific Ocean and the greater Amazonian region, are very, very unique enviroments. These mountains, however, are in between inner seas. Something like the Atlas or the Alps? In any case, if there is some people who would appreciate hardy tubers that can grow in mountainous places, they are for sure the Orcs, or perhaps the Reachmen. Maybe an hybridization even between them?

This returns me back to Bruma and Skyrim. Some people (who make those excellent Oblivion mods) imagine Bruma with a Tibetan flavor. Personally, I imagine it more like Pakistan or Afghanistan, with lots of mesas and plateaus and valleys. It would look dry and rocky with some very fertile valleys by snowmelt, but it would look like a snowy wonderland on winter, indeed, Pakistan and Afghanistan are very snowy. Eventually, of course, ending up in the great barrier of the Jerall mountains and finally, Skyrim.

(the Alps? Skyrim? No, this is Kashmir on winter!)

In this scenario, Skyrim would be a quite dry place… or would it? There is no need for the Jeralls to be a straight line of peaks like the Himalayas. They could be a more "broken" series of mountains, like the southern Andes, but in any case, the rain from the south would clash into the higher mountains. Indeed, that is what actually happens in the Himalayas, the foothills of the Himalayas are some of the rainest places IN THE WORLD. These small valleys are something very unique and not very well known part of the world IRL. I can imagine the Skyrim equivalent would be as unique too, hard to navigate and live in. The forests of the Rift and Falkreath would be mazes of windy forests valleys, each with their own unique secrets under a perpetual fog and drizzle. This is a very interesting enviroment to imagine, where again, some of the older cultures of Tamriel could still live.

(forests of Bhutan, note how the humid valleys stretch into the distance before the cold Himalayas begin)

However, what does Skyrim look like once you cross the border with Ralof? I imagine some sort of more fertile Tibet, not as high as the Tibetan plateau, allowing for forest and alpine tundra. This is mostly because, while Skyrim is high up, I don't imagine as a plateau, but rather a series of broken mountains like the North American Rockies, which makes sense when you account for all the volcanic activity (there is another super-volcano down in Skyrim but nobody notices). I imagine that Skyrim would be a primarily herding pastoral land before the introduction of hardier crops such as potatoes, and even then. Nord culture would be very interesting reimagined like this; hillforts guarding herds of sheep and cows. It would also create a clash between the very, very agrarian south and the nomadic herding north, with High Rock and Hammerfell a gradient between the two.

But here we enter a problem; if we are operating on a level where Cyrodiil is roughly at the same latitude of India, wouldn't that make Skyrim too far from the poles to allow its tundra like climate, even with elevation? No doubt. Tibet is only as cold as it is because it's the roof of the world and far from any ocean. The northernmost tip Skyrim, like Tibet, would be at the latitude of Turkey, Korea or California, which can get quite cold, but not to the level of what we see on Winterhold or Dawnstar (Solitude sounds familiar, though). What's more, having an ocean up north would only moderate the temperature. Cool currents often don't bring cold per-se, just decrease rainfall. This would end with a very temperate and pleasant Skyrim instead of tundra. Which is on its own, interesting to explore.

Could Nirn be going through an ice age, like it's implied with the dissapearance of Atmora? Possibly, but it would imply revising everything I said before, as ice ages decrease rainfall and mess up with weather patterns all over the world. A colder Nirn would explain a lot, though.

I decide I will stop here, I haven't even touched Valenwood (though its subtropical forest seems rather coherent to me), High Rock (the most boring part of Tamriel IMO), Hammerfell, Summerset Islands (if you don't have tropical elves in your setting, you're a coward), or whatever the hell is going on Morrowind. But I hope you enjoyed this worldbuilding exercise and how to make sense of Tamriel's crazy geography. Next time, I'll try to play with tectonics and see if we can make it even more interesting.

If you liked what you read and would like more worldbuilding, consider tipping me on Ko-Fi and send me stuff to talk about, or just send an ask! I'm the kind of guy who reads encyclopedias and RPG manuals for fun, so I have plenty to talk about about everything from fantasy to science fiction to speculative evolution and alternate history!

[blackboard-monitor]

how i've finished inktober every year for eight years and counting

Every time I mention around other artists that I finish inktober every year (meaning I draw and ink 31 drawings, one every day in October), I get questions like "how???", so I figured I'd make a post about it on the off chance it's helpful to someone. Please note that all my advice is based on my personal experience and you're a different person so what works for me may not work for you, and you can do whatever you want forever.

What it boils down to for me is two basic rules: 1) keep it simple and 2) manage your expectations.

Tools

Paper/sketchbook

I started my first inktober in my journal at the time, and because I'm neurotic like that, I've had to do every subsequent inktober in whatever journal I was using at that point.

The benefit of this is that each journal has had a page size of A5 or smaller, which can be tricky when trying to get in a lot of detail, but on the other hand forces you to limit the size of your drawings to a pretty managable size.

Paper type can also be important! Last year in 2023, my journal was a Moleskine sketchbook (image 1), which was actually designed to handle some degree of wet media, which was a game-changer for me as an ink wash enjoyer. Don't get me wrong, I've been using ink washes in most of my previous journals as well, but inking is a lot nicer when your paper isn't constantly buckling (image 2) or pilling and the ink isn't bleeding all over the place, inclunding through the page (image 3). Pages that stay flat instead of buckling are also a lot easier to scan or photograph, if like me you want to post your art online.

In short, my inktober paper recommendation is to use a sketchbook no larger than A5, and go for one with nice, thick paper if you intend to use wet media.

Sketching

I sketch everything with a single 6H pencil that I got from my brother in 2019. Because the lead is so hard, it allows me to scribble to my heart's content without the sketch getting too dark or hard to erase. Sometimes I'll refine the sketch with a HB mechanical pencil, which shows up really nicely on top of the 6H lines, but I may skip that step if I'm feeling lazy or the first sketch is clean enough.

Inking

I've used a variety of art supplies in my inktober drawings. For the most part I've always stuck to greyscale, with the exception of a couple of red or gold accents some years.

My main inktober tools are a set of Micron fineliners in various sizes, and liquid India ink, which I use with a dip pen and with brushes. I usually mix up a mid-tone ink wash in a small bottle, and use that throughout the month.

Fineliners pros: portable, require minimal setup, can use on the sofa or in bed or wherever Fineliners cons: creating texture and filling large areas is a lot more time-consuming. In 2021 I did inktober exclusively in fineliner because I was tired and couldn't be bothered to deal with liquid ink, but I ended up spending more time than maybe ever on the drawings because it took so long to add texture with pens.

Ink pros: you can achieve small details with a dip pen as well as quick texture and fill in large areas with a brush and ink washes Ink cons: can be messy (protip from 2022 Liekki, don't spill ink water all over your laptop), usually you have to sit at a table of some kind, you need to wash your brushes and dip pens, if your paper isn't designed for wet media, it'll buckle or bleed

Pick your inking tools and techniques based on how much time you have!

Prompts/ideas/subject matter

I've always stuck to the "official" prompt list, because it brings me joy to scroll through the tag of the day on instagram and see how others interpreted the same prompt. Or, rather, it used to bring me joy to do this, until instagram's enshittification stole our ability to look at tags. Maybe I'll have some luck with that on Cara going forward; here's hoping.

As for ideas, sometimes they come easy, sometimes it's like pulling teeth and I have to enlist all my friends to brainstorm with me (sorry, y'all). When in doubt, draw the first thing that comes to mind when you read the prompt; don't overthink it (like I often do). I like to try to come up with a less obvious interpretation of a prompt, but this is also where I often get stuck and have to harass my loved ones for ideas. Sometimes it helps to relate the prompt to a tv show/book/etc. you're into; I've done quite a bit of inktober fanart, as well as art of various DnD cahracters from games I've played/DM'd. If all else fails, just look at what everyone else is drawing that day.

Time management

Be realistic about how much time you have in a day to work on inktober, and then set your expectations accordingly. If you only have an hour, stick to a size and level of detail that you can realistically finish in an hour. I've done some very quick scribbles in my years of inktober when I've been busy that day.

My personal philosophy is that I try not to plan too much ahead; I don't do any sketching until day of, and ideally I don't try to come up with ideas for a prompt or at least decide on an idea until the day before at the earliest. Containing each drawing in one day helps me have realistic expectations of what's doable. This does mean drawing late into the night sometimes after procrastinating or struggling to find an idea all day, but it's what works for me.

If your goal is to complete inktober, it's better to do a small shitty drawing in ten minutes than to fall behing by starting something way too ambitious that you'll never be able to finish in a day.

Secret third rule!

Accept the fact that you aren't going to be happy with every drawing.

Inktober was created as an exercise to practice inking. Think of your drawings as sketches, not finished masterpieces. Some of them will be bad, at least in your own eyes. Sometimes you'll put a lot of effort into something that just doesn't work out. For example:

To quote Joe Hills, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of practice. So you fucked up today's drawing. Tomorrow is a new day – that's the beauty of inktober. "Ever tried, ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better." (Samuel Beckett) Progress isn't linear, either; some years are consistently mediocre, other years it's all over the place with a couple bangers and a couple really shitty ones.

Every inktober I've made drawings I love,

drawings I'm indifferent to,

and drawings that straight up suck.

And I'm at peace with that.

Thanks for reading what turned into a pretty long post, and I hope some of it was helpful. Happy inktobering!

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Let's Hear it for the Humphead Wrasse

The humphead wrasse, Cheilinus undulatus, is also known as the Māori wrasse, Napoleon wrasse, or the blue- tooth grouper. They can usually be found around coral reefs and steep rocky cliffs in the Indo-Pacific, particularly on the east coast of Africa, the west coast of India, and the tropical waters of southeast Asia and the Great Barrier Reef.

The Māori wrasse gets its name from the distinctive markings that adults carry. Males are blue-green or purple, while females are more often red or orange. Both have unique patterns of lines and dots covering their heads, and stripes running down the rest of their body; early researchers compared the patterns on their heads to the tattoos traditionally used by the Māori people. In addition to its striking coloration, C. undulatus is also known for being the largest member of the wrasse family. Males can reach up to 2 m (6.5 ft) long and weigh up to 180 kg (396 lbs), while females tend to be smaller. Males also have a large 'hump' on their foreheads, hence the name humphead wrasse.

Another feature of note in C. undulatus is the set of large teeth fused into a parrot-like beak. They use this beak to predate upon hard-shelled animals like mollusks, urchins, sea stars, and crustaceans. On occasion, they also feed on smaller fish and moray eels. Due to their size, adults have very few natural predators aside from sharks, but larvae and small juveniles are more often opportunistically hunted by other fish.

Like many coral reef fish, the humphead wrasse is a protogynous hermaphrodite. This means that most individuals begin life as a female, and become male later in life-- known as 'super males', they are larger than males who did not transition. Individuals first become sexually mature at 5-7 years old, and females begin transitioning to male at 9-12 years old. Spawning occurs a few times a year, and during this period over a hundred adults can congregate in an area. The female releases about 20 eggs into the water column, where they are fertilized by her chosen partner. Three to four weeks later, the eggs hatch and the larvae migrate to the nearby reef.

Conservation status: C. undulatus is considered Endangered by the IUCN. Populations have declined due to overfishing and by-catch mortalities, loss of their food sources, habitat destruction, and capture of juveniles for the aquarium trade.

If you send me proof that you’ve made a donation to UNRWA or another organization benefiting Palestinians– including esim donations– I’ll make art of any animal of your choosing.

Photos

Andrew J. Green

Lluís Masuet

George Ryschkewitsch

[hum-suffer]

Navratri is over and I have so much wisdom to share:

1. Stay AWAY from tall boys who move their shoulders a lot. You'll know when you see em. They'll break your nose, not even say sorry, and continue doing garba.

2. Always, always, choose your chaniya choli very carefully. The volume will look good, sure, but while doing garba?? Other people will step on your lehenga with NO issue whatsoever. So, especially if you're a beginner, make sure your chaniya choli will be comfortable. Otherwise, you're gonna do garba while princess holding your skirt.

3. Always have a water bottle in your vehicle. And even if you have that bottle, drink water in breaks too. Even if you have to buy it at an overpriced rate.

4. Stay away from middle aged aunties. They have too much enthusiasm and you will end up on the ground, clutching your face and crying because their bangles hit HARD.

5. Send the location of your parking place to yourself in case you're parking in a large ground, so you can find your vehicle better.

6. Always, always have something sweet in your vehicle. After the garba, you'll need the energy.

7. Perfume. PERFUME.

8. Keep a jacket on yourself. Late night, you'll want to feel covered, considering how safe India is for women.

9. Continuing the previous point, if you are, at any point, going to be alone on the road, even if it's a five minute differencr, send your live location to someone who will stay up late until you tell them you're safe home.

10. EAT something. Ffs. But never accept anything with a broken seal.

11. Always look at your feet while walking to the parking area from the ground itself. Enthusiastic people will have broken their jewellery and it WILL be lying on the ground. Trust me, you do not want to step on an earring.

12. In case you don't have pockets and have no access to someone who has pockets, clip your vehicle key to your bangles. Also works for defending yourself, if need be.

13. Don't reveal how much money you have on yourself. We know ourselves, we keep money on the mobile cover. Don't open that cover in front of a seller.

14. Establish a code of communication with your group of friends when you are driving. For example, three long consecutive horns, to indicate you can see them. And one long horn, to indicate you cannot find them. Will help to stick together.

15. Enjoy. Ik it's frightening to be out and about at night in these times, but take all the precautions you can, and close your eyes, pray to Mataji, and let her protect you.

[overwatchloresnstuff]

SYMMETRA lore

Satya Vaswani grew up in an extremely poor area of Hyderabad, India. Despite living in the infamous City of Pearls, in a city renowned for artistic expression and gemstones, Satya’s village was in a bad way. Starvation was rife, the water was murky, and the village was overcrowded. Satya danced to lower her anxiety, and visited temples for meals, peace, and beauty. They were the only refuge from the ugliness of everyday village life, as Hyderabadi temples are marvels of artistic work, painted in a thousand colors with large domes and statues raised to the sky.

After the Omnic Crisis, a singular corporation decided to take advantage. India, being densely populated and with millions displaced due to the crisis, was utterly overwhelmed by the scope of humanitarian work needed to put the country back together. Vishkar extended a hand. The corporation founded a new city, Utopaea, using their proprietary hard-light technology. Vishkar’s Architechs promised order. They promised peace, and full bellies with clean water in a beautiful city made of light…and all they asked for was simple obedience.

Vishkar was known for combing records, plucking children from their families. After all, once a revolutionary company considered a child gifted, there was massive pressure on the family to let the child become an Architech. It was a path out of poverty, and a child could have their stars changed with a simple sweep of Vishkar’s hand.

So it was for Satya. She was identified as being capable of becoming an Architech, by Vishkar’s inscrutable and very secretive standards. Her parents, reassured that Satya would want for nothing, were proud to hand their daughter over to the corporation.

There was one single caveat.

Satya could never return home.

She was owned by Vishkar now, and Vishkar would be all that she breathed. To become an Architech, one had to sleep, eat, work, and embody the corporation. As was traditional for Architechs, one of her arms was removed and she was given a company-provided prosthetic that could aid her in creating hard light. Lonely, isolated, and unable to even step foot in the temples she once loved, Satya buried herself in her studies. She entered the Architech Academy in Utopaea, and was assigned a live-in roommate by the name of Niran Pruksamanee. Satya found his relaxed, privileged demeanor irritating. She preferred strict schedules, clean living spaces, and for her roommates to rise and sleep on strict timelines. The other two roommates they were assigned were happy to fall into line. Niran bucked all those trends, but despite their differences Satya found herself fond of the charming Thai gentleman she lived with. The two became inseparable.

Niran, however, had a secret. He managed to create biolight, a living extension of the Vishkar hard-light. Biolight could heal, could grow just like the plants he loved…but he wouldn’t see it turned over to Vishkar. Ignoring Satya’s advice, he fled the Academy and left her alone once again. Having no friends, Satya let her studies consume her.

Satya quickly ascended to the top of her class, and was particularly gifted with bending hard light to her will. Unlike the other students, who approached their work with physics, geometry, and mathematics, Satya found a way to weave the light with the dances of her native Hyderabadi dances.

Satya caught Vishkar’s eye once again. She was taken from the Architech Academy after her graduation, and informed that she would be no mere Architech. She would be an agent of the company, sent on clandestine missions to enforce Vishkar’s will. She was given the codename Symmetra, and finally given access to Vishkar’s dark secrets. Unfortunately, having grown up with the company line, Symmetra could only see the good Vishkar was doing. Order and obedience had become her watchwords, and she willingly gave herself to the company to do their bidding once more.

Her first mission was in Rio de Janeiro, where the company was eyeing a contract to rebuild favelas in the wake of the Crisis. Symmetra was proud to further the mission; after all, how could people stand such disgusting conditions? No. Order would be established, people would be clean and well-mannered, and she would open that path. She argued with Rio’s mayor on behalf of Vishkar, and stormed out of the strained talks when the mayor showed reticence to give their favelas over to Vishkar.

Symmetra was wholly unprepared for how angry the residents of Rio would be, and stepped into the street in the midst of a riot. The tensions between Vishkar and Rio had boiled over with the help of Lucio, a local DJ and celebrity, and the favela was plunged into a full on revolution. Frightened by the sounds, smells and chaos, Symmetra lost her way. She found a young girl named Rosa, who guided her to safety, and from that day on she vowed that Vishkar would transform the favelas into a safe place for all of Rio’s residences.

Sanjay Korpal, Vishkar’s representative in Rio, was satisfied that Symmetra was so willing to…convince Rio’s mayor that the rebuild was necessary. He sent her to infiltrate their competition. After all, with no competing bids, the mayor would be forced to accept Vishkar’s hand. All they needed was a little blackmail.

Symmetra broke in, and after rifling through the Calado corporations files, found nothing. The company was running cleanly. Calado’s guards discovered her, and Symmetra was able to throw up shields to protect herself from the resulting gunfire. She rigged non-lethal traps to give herself enough time to escape, and report back to Sanjay. When Sanjay asked why she hadn’t just killed them, Symmetra responded that she only used lethal force if absolutely necessary. Killing and brutality were a waste of life.

Symmetra then broke the news to Sanjay; they had nothing on Calado, and would likely lose the contract. Vishkar’s response was simple, and immediate: so be it.

The building she had infiltrated exploded in a fiery hail, killing everyone inside and pouring down flames and broken concrete onto the favela below. The same favela that Vishkar was supposed to be renovating. Symmetra stared in shock at the display of cruelty, and leapt in to help. Her photonic barrier carved a path through the flames, and amidst the screaming of those caught by the destruction she found a trapped child. Symmetra used her hard light to pull the child free, and recognized Rosa, the same child who had guided her out of the riot. Rosa’s face had been burned beyond repair, disfiguring her for life.

Months later, Vishkar had indeed begun rebuilding Rio’s city center, damaged by the fire. As Symmetra and Sanjay looked over the brand new buildings, nestled amid the favelas, she questioned whether Vishkar had destroyed the Calado building and killed so many. Sanjay simply responded that it was the price of regrowth.

Doubt, quiet, persistent, began to grow in Symmetra’s mind. She tried to quiet it. Vishkar was surely making a better world. She had seen the proof of it…hadn’t she..?

Nevertheless, she moved on to her next mission. Burying herself in work had worked before, why not now? Sanjay and herself were sent to help a village in Roshani, called Suravasa, damaged by a recent earthquake. Vishkar’s PR representative Chandra assured them that if Vishkar didn’t start helping the village soon, they could kiss their development rights in the area goodbye. Sanjay told Symmetra to volunteer in the village. After all, she had come from humble means. Surely she could relate to these people. Symmetra was told to give the villagers anything they wanted; it would be a scant cost compared to losing development rights.

Looking over the hologram of the damaged village, Symmetra spotted something familiar. She asked Chandra what it was, and he identified the statue as that of Aurora, the first omnic to achieve sentience and the one responsible for the Awakening. The villagers would want more than hush money, Symmetra reasoned, and Sanjay tasked her with finding out what it was.

Symmetra arrived in Suravasa to open hostility. The local Governor, Ranesh Grewal, told Symmetra they wanted nothing to do with Vishkar’s evil. Architechs were not welcome. The gathering crowd of hostile villagers seemed to back him up, and Symmetra remembered the favela riots. She requested to visit a local temple, hoping to buy herself time. Hostile, the crowd seemed like they would deny her request.

Instead, a single omnic stepped forward. Zenyatta, a pilgrim to the temple, reminded them that the temples were open to all. He led Symmetra inside, and invited her to walk with him. The help Vishkar was offering would mean nothing if it came from poisoned fingers, he reminded her. She was welcome to stay, if she did him the courtesy of taking time to understand the people and the religion here. Symmetra responded that she was no pilgrim, she was an Architech here to solve a problem.

What was a pilgrim, Zenyatta responded, if not someone who journeyed to a holy place?

Taken aback by Zenyatta’s response, Symmetra reasoned that if Zenyatta’s philosophy had calmed the crowd, perhaps his way would work better than Vishkar flinging money at the villagers. She needed more information. So, she decided to keep an open mind. She walked with Zen, and he told her of Mondatta and the Shambali monks. He led her into the main temple chamber, where the shambles of Aurora’s statue stood.

Aurora had sacrificed everything to give the gift of life, true intelligence and meaning, to omnics. Omnics had awakened, as though from a dream, from their lives chained to servitude. Aurora had given them the knowledge of good and evil, the power to make their own decisions, and become true persons as precious as any human. Symmetra finally understood why the villagers had been so saddened by its damage, and was moved by Aurora’s story. Vishkar could fix it! It was only stone, she told Zen. She could build them a new temple, a new statue, anything they wanted!

Zenyatta responded that help could come in many forms. The history of the stones around them meant so much more than any new building. The statue of Aurora had been created by hands that loved her. No hard light substitute could mean as much…ever.

Symmetra had a lot to think about, and Zenyatta invited her to stay with him. He gave her a robe, and a meal. At first, Symmetra refused the offer. Vishkar paid for her meals, and she was no pilgrim! However…the colors were quite pretty. She relented, and for the first time in many years, she wore clothing not from Vishkar’s prim offices.

The next morning, she met with Zen again. She wanted to help, and what was she to do if not use Vishkar’s technology?!

Zenyatta responded by giving her a broom, and showing her where the villagers were cleaning the temple by hand. They were so ineffective! They moved stones by hand, swept with simple brooms. Yet, Symmetra found herself enjoying the work. Organizing, cleaning, sweating as humans had done for thousands of years. As they finished the work for the day, Zenyatta handed her a gift.

The monks here didn’t meditate, but rather used distinctive orbs to ponder. Orbs of Perception focused an omnic’s powers, and while rather useless to humans, were used for understanding. They could not make them hover like an omnic could, but they could feel. They could ponder. They could focus themselves around a single object and find peace. In this way, her mind could calm itself, and she could find the solution to what the villagers truly needed. This time, Satya didn’t protest. She meditated, and cradled the orb.

Over the next few days, Satya settled into life at the temple. She rose with them, ate with them, worked with them, and centered herself on the Orb of Perception. She went into the village with Zenyatta to serve food to the hungry, and while the villagers were still hostile to her, Zenyatta stood beside her. Grudgingly, the villagers began to accept Satya. She certainly wasn’t acting like a soulless Vishkar Architech.

Satya spent her evenings with Zen. They talked about her childhood, growing up within Vishkar, and the faith she had abandoned when Vishkar had taken her. Zen introduced her to the concept of Wabi-Sabi, the Japanese concept centering around focusing on the earthly impermanence of things. Appreciate all that is imperfect, for in imperfection is beauty. Scars tell stories of love and loss, missing eyes and limbs tell of resilience. Imperfection is what makes life worth living. Some might have seen the removal of her arm as imperfection…and yet it was beautiful.

On the next evening, Zen introduced her to Kintsugi, the art of repairing broken pottery with gold lacquer to make unique and beautiful pieces. Even though a bowl is shattered, it is that shattering that makes it beautiful.

Satya realized what she had to do.

Over the next few days, Satya reassembled the statue of Aurora. Instead of merely piecing it back together, she glued the pieces with hard light. The veins of Aurora’s shattering glowed with light, yellow, imperfect but beautiful in its imperfection. Satya presented the statue to the village not in her corporate attire, but in the robe Zenyatta had gifted her.

Governor Grewal, who had been so hostile to her, was in shock. The villagers were moved, and Zenyatta gifted Satya with the robe she wore and incense…she was always welcome at the temple. Sanjay was impressed with her work, but wondered why she had chosen yellow instead of the corporation’s signature blue. While blue was a beautiful color, Symmetra told him, she had chosen yellow for warmth. Love was warmth, and she had made this with love. She wanted others to feel it when they looked at the statue.

Symmetra told Sanjay that Vishkar could do more, and be more, if they acted more like this. Vishkar needed love, and empathy, and to find beauty in imperfections rather than demanding everything be brought to their rigorous standards. Sanjay admitted, grudgingly, that she was probably right.

Symmetra continues to maintain a relationship with Zenyatta to this day, and Zenyatta views her, affectionately, as one of his students.

Symmetra still seems to tow the company line with Vishkar. Her interactions with Ana, Ashe and others reflect that she will still parrot Vishkar’s tagline of improving an imperfect world. However, her interaction with Hanzo hints that she may be seeking a way out. She asks why he left his organization, and he replied that he hated the man they made him. When Symmetra asks how he knew he did the right thing, Hanzo says he didn’t. She also asks Sombra about Vishkar’s dealings with LumeriCo…but when Sombra jokes about her escaping her cage, Symmetra shuts down the conversation.

Symmetra despises chaos. She shows disgust in her interactions with Junkrat and Junker Queen, and remarks how shocked she is Torbjorn’s inventions actually function. Likewise, she shows admiration for snowflakes with Mei. Symmetra has close friendships with Niran, who teases her about his chaotic Academy habits, and Zenyatta, who encourages her growth.

Symmetra is a person still discovering herself. She was severed from her family, and largely from her culture, by a predatory corporation. While Vishkar has made her into a successful scientist and expanded her education beyond her wildest dreams…they also robbed her of much of her humanity. She is clawing it back through her friendships with Zenyatta and Lifeweaver, and slowly growing into a person separate from the corporate drone Vishkar wants her to be.

Symmetra is a soul aching for empathy and beauty, in a world where so much of it has been sanitized in the name of efficiency. She is a reminder to us all that imperfections aren’t to be eliminated…and technical advances may come at the cost of the artist if we are not careful.

(Taken from facebook group "Deadlock gang: women of Overwatch from a member there)

[southeastasianists]

The divine blend of spices needed to make curry first reached Southeast Asia about 2,000 years ago, when the region began trading with the Indian subcontinent, according to an analysis of ancient spice residue.

The new project analyzed 12 different spice grinding tools unearthed at the ancient trading port of Oc Eo, in modern-day Vietnam, by washing them with water and chemicals. This produced hundreds of tiny fragments that the researchers painstakingly identified (to a reasonable degree of certitude) under a microscope. The results sounded like a shopping list for making curry: turmeric, ginger, fingerroot, sand ginger, galangal, clove, nutmeg and cinnamon.

“These spices are indispensable ingredients used in the making of curry in South Asia today,” the paper says.

Ancient Trading Spices

Where did all these spices comes from?

They could have come from the surrounding countryside. Farmers in Southeast Asia made many of these crops themselves, and if not, they could have imported the seeds and gotten started.

On the other hand, the turmeric could have easily come from India, where use of the spice dates back thousands of years. And the ginger and cloves may have come from India as well, or maybe China.

Cinnamon was widely traded at the time and may have come all the way from Israel.

The galangal, fingerroot and sand ginger are native to Southeast Asia and could easily have come from nearby soils. These more specialized spices are still used in the region’s curry paste.

Footed Grinding Slabs

As a testament to the spice trade’s popularity, the spice grinders made up the majority of the stone tools recovered from Oc Eo and another, nearby city called Angkor Borei. The original archaeological dig at Oc Eo found numerous footed grinding slabs, which look like little stone workbenches for grinding spices – which is what they likely were. Versions of these slabs are still sometimes used in the traditional preparation of curry.

The largest slab recovered measured 2.5 feet by 1 foot. Researchers found it buried not far from a piece of charcoal that dated to about A.D. 250, which hinted at when curry first made its way to the area.

Oc Eo

At that time, the city would have been not just importing and exporting goods but making them as well, according to the paper. Residents raised religious monuments and shaped metal tools, glass jewelry and pottery.

All the while, they would have worked to trade and process many different spices. Archaeologists working there even found an intact nut that dated to about A.D. 200, and it still “yielded a nutmeg aroma,” the paper says.

Now part of Vietnam, Oc Eo once belonged to the ancient kingdom of Funan, which maintained a base of power further up the Mekong River.

In Oc Eo, culture prospered between the first and eighth centuries, during the latter years of the Iron Age. As the site’s ancient canals filled with ships, Buddhism and Hinduism left their own marks on the sprawling complex, including a possible contribution to curry cooking. The need to dye the Buddhist monks’ robes yellow may have first prompted Oc Eo to import turmeric, the paper says.

[bethanythebogwitch]

I like Pokémon and as my post history can tell you, I like fish. So why not combine the two and talk about fish Pokémon? I’m going to go over the real life inspirations for every fish Pokémon, discussing their biology and cool facts about the real inspirations. I’ll do this in parts so it doesn’t get too long. Today let’s do generation I and II.

The first fish we get in national dex order is the Horsea line and these aren’t too hard to figure out. They’re seahorses, some of the weirdest fish out there. Seriously, real seahorses are way weirder than Pokémon. We’re talking about fish that can barely swim, have prehensile tails, mate for life, the males get pregnant, and they have no stomachs but have the highest hunting success rate of all fish. Horsea has nothing on that. Horsea can also shoot water and ink from its mouth. This seems to be a reference to squid ink and water guns, though Horsea’s RB dex entry says they use precision shots to shoot down flying bugs. This was likely inspired by the archerfish, which does exactly that. This won’t be the only time that archerfish come up in this series. Their category as the dragon pokemon and Kingdra’s dragon typing references the Japanese word for seahorse, tatsu-no-otoshigo, which means “dragon’s child” based off of a myth that a seahorse who lives long enough will become a dragon. Kingdra also seems to have some weedy sea dragon influence, but there’s a better example of a Pokémon based on that much later in the series.

(image description, a seahorse)

So many recurring archetypes in the series can be traced back to gen I. Archetypes like the early game bird, the early game bug, the early game rodent, the mushroom, the three-stage rock, and more came from RBY. Another, probably less intentional archetype is the incredibly forgettable fish. Meet Goldeen and Seaking. They’re based on goldfish and koi and the only thing that makes them stand out from real fish is the horns. There are a truly absurd number of goldfish breeds but the one that looks closest to Goldeen is the tosakin, which has a curly tail like Goldeen and is popular in Japan while Seaking looks most like an azuma nishiki.

(image description: a tosakin Goldfish)

Since goldfish and koi are both members of the carp family, I wonder if there’s a close ancentral relationship to Magikarp. They are also said to swim upriver to spawn and Seaking gets redder during mating season, which seems to be a clear reference to salmon. In addition, male Seaking uses its horn to make a hole in a rock for the female to lay her eggs in. many male fish will make nests or other structures to woo females and provide a a safe spot to lay eggs. The horn is interesting. At first I thought I was just there to make them look less like normal fish, but there might be more to it than that. There are fish with horns, the cowfish, but they look nothing like these two (and barely look like fish for that matter) so I don’t think that was an inspiration. The unicornfish has a horn-like protrusion on its head that could have been an inspiration. I also found refences to Hinduism with Matsya, an avatar of Vishnu that looked like a horned fish in some depictions which could also be a reference in the line’s design (sidenote, a India-based region would be really cool).

(mage description: an artistic depiction of Matsya as a horned fish)

These fish are found in a ton of regions despite not being all that interesting. In real life goldfish have become invasive or introduced species in many areas due to irresponsible pet owners releasing them into the wild. As these two are sometimes kept as pets, I wonder if their wide distribution in the Pokémon world is due to the same thing. Also, why is fresh water fish named Seaking?

Next we move on to the mon, the myth, the legend: Magikarp. I’m only going over Magikarp as I see Gyarados as a sea serpent/eastern dragon rather than a fish. Magikarp is, as you might guess, an Asian carp, though it also seems to have some koi features.

(image description: a common carp)

The common carp is somewhat golden in color, which could explain Magikarp’s shiny color, and mirror carp and koi have been specially bred for appearance, which might be why Magikarp is red. Magikarp is famous for its splashing and jumping, something Asian carp are also known for. Silver carp in particular can jump clear out of the water, which makes them a hazard for boaters.

(gif description: a silver carp jumping out of the water and hitting a boater in the head)

Most pokedex entries focus on the splashing and how weak Magikarp is, but some go on to say their survival in the Pokémon world is due to them being able to live in very poor water quality and reproducing like crazy. This is very true of real Asian carp, who can thrive in terrible conditions and produce millions of eggs per spawning. This has contributed to them becoming invasive species in many parts of the world. Considering Magikarp can be found in every region, the same is probably true of the Pokemon world. Magikarp evolving into the draconic Gyarados is a reference to the legend of the dragon bridge: a waterfall that, if a carp jumped over it, would turn the carp into a dragon.

Chinchou and Lanturn are weird little fish. The glowing lures and their described deep-sea habitat make them deep-sea anglerfish, specifically football fish, but they also look very different than their inspirations.

(image description, a footballfish that washed up on the shore)

Some deep-sea anglerfish have multiple glowing lures like these two, but I couldn’t find any with Chinchou’s orientation. I think Chinchou may be a reference to alien bug-eyed monsters, with its body looking like the head and the antennae you sometimes see on said BEMs. Chinchou being able to walk on its fins may be a reference to shallow water anglerfish, who are often bottom dwellers who have modified their pectoral and/or pelvic fins into legs.

(Image description, a frogfish. note the fins that have been modified for use as legs)

Chinchou’s name is the giveaway to it identity. It seems to come from chōchin (lantern) and the related chōchin-ankō (deep-sea anglerfish). Lanturn looks more like a fish, but it still doesn’t look much like an anglerfish as it’s cute and they’re usually ugly as hell. A lot of people say it has dolphin influence. I don’t really get dolphin from its design, but if it is a dolphin, it may draw from the Greek god Apollo, who was associated with light and whose sacred animal was a dolphin. Chinchou having fin legs but Lanturn lacking them seems to indicate that as they mature, they go from bottom-dwellers to free-swimming fish. Since real anglerfish use symbiotic, bioluminescent bacteria in their lures, the Chinchou line may be one of the few cases of a mutualistic relationship in Pokemon and maybe the only one with a non-Pokémon lifeform that isn’t a plant. Interestingly, Slowbro, Slowking, Remoraid, Mantine, Tatsugiri, and Dondozo also have mutualistic relationships and they’re all water type. That’s a weird coincidence. 

Qwilfish is certainly an underdog (underfish?) story. From being a completely forgettable single-stager for multiple generations until a regional form and evolution pulled it from obscurity. Both it and its Hisuan form are pufferfish or porcupinefish. Both are closely related and have the ability to gulp in water or air (though gulping air is bad for them) to inflate their spiny bodies as a defense.

(image description: an inflated porcupinefish)

Unlike their counterparts, Qwilfish is always inflated, but can grow even bigger where in the real fish, inflation is stressful and only done when in danger. The line’s poison typing comes from real pufferfish having some incredibly potent poison. It’s called tetradotoxin and it’s an extremely dangerous neurotoxin. Fugu fish famously has to be prepared by a well-trained chef who knows what parts to cut away to avoid poisoning whoever eats it. Pnlike real puffers, Qwilfish can inject the poison into others through its spines, making it venomous as opposed to the real ones, who are poisonous. Overqwil also seems to have some sea urchin elements with how huge its spines are. Some urchins are also venomous and can inject poison through their quills. Finally, the whole line seems to be based off of naval mines what with their roundness and ability to explode.

Remoraid is a fish of many talents and has a lot of origins. First things first, it’s a pistol. This is more easily seen in its unused older design, but you can still see it. This is also why it evolves into an octopus. Octillery is an artillery cannon. Also the animals they’re based on both use suction and squirt water. Remoraid also has major inspiration from the archerfish (remember them?) in that it is a master at spitting water with precision and the pokedex says it can shoot targets out of the air just like an archerfish.

(imager description: a spitting archerfish)

The archerfish inspiration and pistol design are why it learns so many shooting moves. Finally, Remoraid is a remora,  even though they really look nothing alike. Like the remora, it has a modified dorsal fin shaped like a suction cup that it uses to suction onto larger animals. Both remoras and Remoraid will get carried along by the larger animal and will eat scraps of the larger animal’s meal. The remora benefits by getting a free ride, water over the gills, and food while the larger animal may also get some benefits from the remora eating ectoparasites and dead skin. A remora attaching to an animal would either be a commensal (one party benefits, the other receives neither benefit nor harm) or mutualistic relationship. In Pokémon, the only animal we see Remoraid attaching to is Mantine and they have an explicitly mutualistic relationship as Remoraid fights alongside Mantine and its presence allows Mantyke to evolve. Speaking of which…

image description: a mana ray with two remoras attached to it

Mantyke and Mantine are stingrays, specifically manta rays, one of my favorite animals. They truly are gentle giants and these Pokémon are too, being primarily special walls. Like mantas, Mantyke and Mantine are intelligent, social, and playful creatures. Mantas are one of if not the smartest fish, smart enough to pass the mirror test by recognizing their own reflections. There is a correlation between animal intelligence and playfulness. The smarter an animal is, the more likely it is to play for fun rather than for hunting practice and other purposes. This can be seen in primates, corvids, canines, and yes, rays. Those antennae on Mantyke and Mantine are based on the cephalic flaps of the manta, modified fins that help direct plankton into its mouth. Of course these two have the flying type and unlike Gyarados, there’s a good reason for it. Mantas are part of the genus Mobula and all 9 species of the genus are known to leap out of the water before splashing back down.

(image description: a Mobula ray jumping)

Nobody really knows why they do this, but there could be several reasons: cleaning parasites, herding prey, finding lost members of the school, or maybe just for fun. Mantine’s flying abilities are highly exaggerated and it also has some airplane design features, with the Remoraid on its wing looking like a plane engine or wing-mounted gun. As mentioned above, Remoraid and the Mantyke line have a mutualistic relationship. Not really relevant but still a fun fact: mantas give live birth and the babies come out folded up like burritos.

That’s it for part one. Come back next time for generations III and IV

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Nickolaus Hines

Published: Oct 18, 2021

In 2016, the famous nun Mother Teresa was declared a saint by Pope Francis — but many people say she doesn't deserve it.

Ever since the Vatican made Mother Teresa a saint in 2016, the response has been controversial and polarizing.

In order for Mother Teresa to achieve sainthood, the Vatican had to recognize two miracles that the famous nun performed after her death. Pope John Paul II recognized the first miracle in 2003, just six years after she died in 1997. And Pope Francis recognized the second miracle in 2015.

The popes claimed that Mother Teresa performed miracles when she cured one woman and then one man of their respective tumors. However, these “miracles” have been disputed by some — especially since a doctor who worked on the woman’s case said that she had been treated with drugs.

But debates over Mother Teresa’s miracles didn’t dissuade the Vatican from moving forward with its plans. Pope Francis officially proclaimed Mother Teresa a saint on September 4, 2016. But the decision remains controversial, and the dispute over her miracles is just one small part of it.

Of course, Mother Teresa’s sainthood may seem well-deserved to some. After all, she cultivated a mostly sparkling reputation as a selfless humanitarian while she was alive. But in recent years, her image has lost its luster. And when you take a closer look at her story, it’s not hard to see why.

Inside Mother Teresa’s “Selfless” Intentions

Mother Teresa was intent on converting as many people to Catholicism as possible, even at the expense of the poor and sick.

No one builds a church purely for the love of God — especially in places like India where critical services, like hospitals, are lacking. Religious groups that erect churches in these areas do so not just out of the kindness of their hearts, but to increase the number of people who believe in their faith.

Like those missionaries, conversion — the Church’s key to survival — was Mother Teresa’s primary goal. And in the context of the Catholic Church, charity can be viewed as a self-interested act.

“It’s good to work for a cause with selfless intentions,” said Mohan Bhagwat, the head of a Hindu nationalist group. “But Mother Teresa’s work had ulterior motive, which was to convert the person who was being served to Christianity. In the name of service, religious conversions were made.”

And when The New York Times reviewed the British documentary Hell’s Angel, a film that highlighted some of Mother Teresa’s flaws, the paper concluded that she was “less interested in helping the poor than in using them as an indefatigable source of wretchedness on which to fuel the expansion of her fundamentalist Roman Catholic beliefs.”

Still, some argue that even if Mother Teresa had ulterior motives, at least the people she cared for were better off for it. But others who have actually visited and worked in her medical centers wholeheartedly disagree.

The Horrific Conditions At Mother Teresa’s Medical Centers And Missions

Though Mother Teresa’s medical centers were meant to heal people, her patients were often subjected to conditions that made them even sicker. In the same documentary, an Indian journalist compared Mother Teresa’s flagship location for “Missionaries of Charity” to photographs that he had seen of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Nazi Germany.

“Workers washed needles under tap water and then reused them. Medicine and other vital items were stored for months on end, expiring and still applied sporadically to patients,” said Hemley Gonzalez, a noted humanitarian who briefly volunteered at Missionaries of Charity.

Gonzalez continued, “Volunteers with little or no training carried out dangerous work on patients with highly contagious cases of tuberculosis and other life-threatening illnesses. The individuals who operated the charity refused to accept and implement medical equipment and machinery that would have safely automated processes and saved lives.”

It wasn’t just volunteers who criticized Mother Teresa’s treatment of patients, either. In her hospice care centers, Mother Teresa practiced her belief that patients only needed to feel wanted and die at peace with God — not receive proper medical care — and medical experts went after her for it.

In 1994, the British medical journal The Lancet reported that medicine was scarce in her centers and that patients received nothing close to the treatment that they needed to relieve their pain.

Meanwhile, some doctors took to calling her missions “homes for the dying” since her Calcutta home for the sick had a mortality rate of more than 40 percent. But in her view, this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

In response to all the criticism, Mother Teresa allegedly said, “There is something beautiful in seeing the poor accept their lot, to suffer it like Christ’s Passion. The world gains much from their suffering.”

However, when it came to her own suffering, Mother Teresa apparently took a different stance. When she began experiencing severe heart problems, she received care in a modern American hospital.

The Questionable Company That Mother Teresa Kept Throughout Her Life

While neglecting the needs of the sick, Mother Teresa was also called out for rubbing elbows with several wealthy — and corrupt — world leaders.

This included Haitian dictator Jean-Claude Duvalier, who was eventually charged with crimes against humanity for his abuse of his fellow Haitians.

At one point, 60 Minutes released footage that showed Mother Teresa praising Duvalier’s wife Michele. In the footage, Mother Teresa said that she had “never seen the poor people being so familiar with their head of state as they were with her. It was a beautiful lesson for me.”

That wasn’t the only friendship that raised eyebrows. Mother Teresa also received $1.25 million from her friend Charles Keating.

Keating was one of the key figures behind the 1980s savings and loan crisis, brought about by housing market and loan speculation, which cost American taxpayers $124 billion. And while he was on trial, Mother Teresa wrote to the judge presiding over his case — seeking clemency for him.

“I do not know anything about Mr. Charles Keating’s work or his business or the matters you are dealing with,” she said. “I only know that he has always been kind and generous to God’s poor and always ready to help whenever there was a need. It is for this reason that I do not want to forget him now while he and his family are suffering.”

Though a co-prosecutor of Keating actually responded to Mother Teresa after his conviction — and pointed out that one of the people Keating stole from was a poor carpenter — he never got a response from her.

And that wasn’t the only issue related to Mother Teresa’s finances.

The Enduring Mystery Of Where Mother Teresa’s Money Went

Countless well-meaning Catholics gave money to Mother Teresa’s charitable organizations throughout the years, but many of them would never see their generous donations go toward good works.

Keating’s $1.25 million donation alone would seem large enough to lift all of those in her care out of poverty, but one volunteer said that “even when bread was over at the soup kitchens, none was bought unless donated.”

Once, after running up an $800 tab at a grocery store to feed people at her charity, Mother Teresa refused to get out of line until someone else paid.

A 1991 report in the German magazine Stern also estimated that only seven percent of the millions of dollars she received were used for charity.

But seven percent of what total figure, exactly? The world will never know. Nirmala Joshi, the leader of Missionaries of Charity who succeeded Mother Teresa, said the donations were “countless,” and there was only one person with the actual numbers. “God knows,” Joshi said. “He is our banker.”

One is left to wonder where all of that money was actually going — and what happened to it after Mother Teresa’s death.

Mother Teresa’s Views On Reproductive Rights

Though it’s not surprising that a Catholic nun would be against abortion, Mother Teresa still raised eyebrows when she discussed her stance while she was accepting the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979.

In reference to Bosnian women who had been raped by Serbs and who were seeking abortions for their unwanted pregnancies, Mother Teresa said, “I feel the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a direct war, a direct killing — direct murder by the mother herself.”

She also rallied against birth control, claiming that “natural family planning” would solve the woes of women who were not ready for a child.

What Mother Teresa did promote in the realm of family planning — like abstinence — didn’t help anyone, either. And despite abstinence-only education being proven ineffective, she still stuck by her claims.

But even though she gained some critics for views like these, Mother Teresa was mostly successful at avoiding controversy while she was alive. However, a glimpse of her “dark side” would slip through the cracks every so often — especially when it came to her infamous homes for the sick. 

In hindsight, these issues are hard to ignore today. And it’s also difficult to understand why the Catholic Church decided to make Mother Teresa a saint. She may have been revered for helping the poor and the sick, but her practices ensured that they were mired in pain until their final moments.

==

Reminder: Mother Teresa was a sadistic fundamentalist.

[actual-corpse]

I had a dream that I went to a school in India for a month or so. We were put into teams, and we just worked. We had task schedules and lunch schedules, and bathroom schedules and the like.

There was water and boats and a weird submarine that took us down to our assigned eating place.

There was glass all over the floor at one point, and I got confused and tried very hard to stay under the radar and avoid the "teacher's" ire.

And then my group was called to handle an emergency, and we had to run through this mall area (which I've seen before in MANY other mall dreams) and it was closing down for the night so we had to run through the mall, avoiding death fnaf style (I guess?) And we eventually got to the exit and had to squeeze through a tiny gap to avoid being crushed. (I've had a few dreams about getting stuck in tiny tunnels before. Scary)

[cicidarkarts]

Joonam - Chapter 1: Stock Duty

Chapter List | Chapter 2 >

He had the cleanest hands of all the employees. Mostly because he obsessed over washing them with a gusto that would leave even the most ardent germophobes wincing. Idrees got a reminder of this whenever his boss sent him to restock shelves, where he had at least an hour to stare at his dried skin and gleaming fingernails. He kept them short so he wouldn't have to think about how they looked with dirt and blood caked under them. He refused offers of lotion from some of the women he worked with because, though it would alleviate the dryness, the sliminess of war-tainted mud made his skin crawl.

He lived in a big tourism area in India now. His workplace was just off the beaten path that they mostly saw locals. Sometimes, he saw a couple of the men he knew from his days in the Taliban; he always conveniently had to check the back whenever he noticed them. If the memories weren't enough to scare him off, their scowls toward him and shitty attitudes toward his female coworkers ensured his retreat. At least the back was quiet and the crappy lights were dim. He didn't have to stare at his hands that never seemed clean enough.

Cleaning duty was the easiest for him, because he had to wear threadbare gloves. The peace and quiet of the back shelves allowed the menial chores to take over the noise of his mind. Just wipe down the shelves and move the cans along, then go to the next shelf. Cans clinked together as he moved, sounds that ensured he could stay present, all while focusing fully on the steps of his task.

“Hey, Idrees,” said the shopkeep as she joined him. “Anush,” he greeted. “How are you doing after the rush?” He looked at her, focusing on that deep scar along her cheek, mustering up as much conviction as he could. “Fine.” “If you need to use my office again—” “I’m fine,” he said, a little snippier than he’d intended.

She went quiet. The perpetual scowl on her face hid a look of sympathy in her eyes Idrees had come to know unfortunately well. He gripped his mop handle and wiped the floors.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t trying to—” “It’s okay, you’re gonna be mad at me anyway.” He gave her a defeated look, watching as she pushed down her hijab to slick back her hair once again. She said, “‘Cuz I’m about to put you on stock duty.”

A tension inflated in his chest—pushing against his lungs and sitting on his stomach. He released the building sigh.

“Wish I didn’t have to,” she continued. “But the girls have their hands full after that rush. And there’s a pretty big shipment that just came in, so I need someone on stock duty.”  “Yes, ma’am,” he capitulated.

Lead-legged and hands firmly by his sides, he trudged to the back and through its refrigerated chill. He needed to keep this job. It was just enough to afford the necessities and he couldn’t lose all of that now. Anush had been accommodating for many years and he owed her some amount of loyalty. She once let him bunker down in her office to sit in front of the fan, during a particularly busy shift no less. All the noise had made him think far too much…

As he ripped off his cleaning gloves, exposing his sweaty hands to frigid air, he thought too much once again; about how only the cool breeze and sounds of Anush’s office fan had stopped the racket from overtaking his mind. He grasped the faucet of the utility sink so hard that the skin beneath his nails changed color. He turned the faucet onto a warm setting and got to work scrubbing his hands.

Lathering up, he kept thinking about Anush’s office. She’d offered it to him several times, after once having witnessed him tear his nails across his palms as he cleansed them. The water had been steaming for so long that a thin layer of sweat had dotted his forehead. His stomach clenched when he remembered the look of horror on her stoic face upon seeing his raw, bleeding hands.

So he kept the sink low today, ensuring that Anush wouldn’t panic even if she saw him now. He didn’t want her wasting her sympathy on him anymore. She’d already done so much. Perhaps, though, that was because she didn't know the full story—just that he was forced to fight in a war. If she knew he'd once been a member of a totalitarian, misogynistic regime, he wondered if she'd treat him with less respect and sympathy.

His hand slammed against the faucet to turn it off; he needed to get it over with in as fast a motion as possible. If he didn’t, he feared he wouldn’t know when to stop. The cheap, rough paper towels felt like pumice on his dry skin.

He continued on to the warm air of the warehouse. The smell of fuel from the truck kept his mind off stock duty. Men called to each other, trying to coordinate stacking the dollies and sorting the boxes. A man in a thick, heavy turban dragged a few supplies in on a creaking three-legged dolly. He greeted Idrees with a smile and a wave.

“Anush got you working as stock boy again?” the man teased, scratching at his greyish beard. “Sadly.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead and sat heavily upon a box, which bent and deformed underneath him. “You'll have the back of a seventy year old before you retire.” “So will you.” “Ah, but you're too smart for all of this, eh, Idrees? This was the best I could do.” “That's not true, Nikan. You're not stupid.” “Hey!” called Nikan’s supervisor. “Less talking, more unloading!” “Right,” Nikan said to Idrees. “I'm so smart I'm slacking on the job while Mayur the Dictator is my supervisor.”

Idrees continued about his work as Nikan went to fetch more stock. He strained to transfer the crates onto the stocking cart, then wheeled them out into the store. He could've stayed to chat with Nikan all afternoon if it meant avoiding restock duty. But he did his rounds anyway. It kept him afloat in this city, as far away from his past as he could go.

Though he was content for the most part, he knew it wouldn’t last long. Not with stock duty. It made his mind wander far too much again—about his past and his present. The city offered cars that didn't plume smoke every time they sputtered to life, pristine buildings without graffiti or crumbling foundations, and people living free lives not confined to extremist dogma and laws. It had taken a while getting used to women uncovered, speaking and laughing loudly with their friends, and reading for leisure on dinner dates with themselves. The more he saw their happiness, the more his stomach churned when he remembered the women under Taliban rule.

He never wanted to go back to seeing a woman beaten all because she dared speak in the presence of one of his own. He never wanted to feel like he had to keep his mouth shut or suffer the same fate of the woman being whipped, child in her protective arms, because a Talib caught her in public without a mahram. He never—

His heart was pounding. He focused on a packet of food and read bits of the label. Microwaveable—both in Hindi and bold English letters. “Authentic”. Right. What kind of person who wanted to microwave their dinner cared about authenticity anyway? A tourist, most likely. At least it got him out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me?” someone asked.

He looked over to see a white woman. Not that it was a shock. Her accent gave it away.

“Can you help?” she asked, struggling a bit and overly-enunciating everything. “I speak English,” he said. Her tense posture relaxed instantly. “Oh, thank god. I was seriously gonna make a fool of myself if I kept trying. My Hindi is not up to par.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she readjusted her wire frame glasses. He noticed immediately that the entirety of her being screamed homebody. Tourists that came in often had their hair done and makeup applied (to varying degrees of success), and many had sun-kissed skin. But her unruly hair looked like it only ever saw a brush. Her strawberry blonde roots poked through the black dye, and a blemish here and slightly pocked cheek there showed she didn't spend time primping herself.

“Um, I have a list here.” She lifted up her half-empty hand basket. “Most of the things I’ve found. Could you show me where a few other things are?” “Yes, what do you need?”

She read off the first item on her list which was, funnily enough, the authentic tourist packet in his hand. He gave it to her. She cocked a brow at him until she read the packet. When the realization dawned on her and she giggled, the sound released several days worth of tension from his shoulders. They’d been up against his neck for so long, he’d only just remembered what it felt like to unclench his spine. After she quieted down, his muscles crept back up.

She put the packet in her cart, as well as another style of curry. Her next item was a little more complicated. The spices could be difficult to tell apart without knowing how to read Hindi so he took her to the spice aisle and helped her pick out the proper bottles.

“You trying to make curry?” he asked, putting some turmeric and garam masala in her basket. “Yeah, I am. Figured I'd try something authentic while I'm here.” “And that's why you bought a microwaveable alternative.” “That's for laziness.”

His lips twitched as he picked out a couple of items not on her list but would make her curry better—fenugreek, coriander.

She grinned. “Thank you, I'll give them a try!”

Her brown eyes lit up alongside her smile. She looked and dressed so young it was almost a shock to see her without her mama or baba. He supposed never seeing sunlight could do that to a person.

“Last thing,” she said, reading over her list. “I think I'm just dumb or blind but I can't find your jams.” “They are a bit hidden.”

He took her into the next aisle where an entire floor to top shelf selection of jams awaited her. She fiddled with her glasses, face turning red. 

“I thought you said it was hidden,” she said. “This is staring me right in the face. Look, this one is eye level and it says marmalade on it in English.”

She picked up a jar of orange marmalade just to glare at it. His lips twitched again, pulling back into a smile that felt so alien on his face. Another strange feeling crept up on him, too. Like a little bubble in his chest wanting so badly to break through. He cleared his throat and his lungs relaxed, banishing the oncoming laughter.

“Were you looking for a specific flavor?” he asked.  “Well, I like grape and cherry the most but I want to go outside my comfort zone. Is there something locals prefer?” “Ah, yes, so you can make authentic toast.” “Exactly!” “Can't go wrong with strawberry or apricot.” “Apricot sounds dope.” He paused and gave her a look. “And that's… good?” “Oh! Um, yeah. Sorry. Your English is really good so I just— am gonna shut up.” She looked away and ran a hand down her hair. “Apricot, please.”

He put an inexpensive but good jar of apricot marmalade in her basket. When their eyes met again, a little tickle of butterflies in his stomach hit him. She was cute, and the fact that she nearly made him break employee character several times was nothing short of a miracle. He wanted to ask her out to dinner, but… He frowned when he thought of how her pretty smile could be marred and dirtied by his filthy, disgusting hands.

“Thank you for the help,” she said. “My pleasure.” “Maybe I'll see you next week!” This made his heavy face lighten. “I hope so.”

They waved their goodbyes and she headed off to one of the cashiers. The cashier, a most annoyingly perceptive woman called Kanta, glanced to Idrees, back to the American, then to him again. She smirked and gave him a wink and a thumbs-up while the American unloaded her basket.

The American noticed Kanta’s gesture and turned back to look at him. Idrees’ face grew hot; hotter as he whipped around the corner and heard the faint sound of them giggling. Was that her flirting? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was a pity giggle. 

He tried to continue his restocking duty as normal, which meant more thinking and overthinking. Particularly his interaction with that tourist. Despite her friendly attitude, Idrees knew that she was just being polite. He'd seen his fair share of attempted small talk. The weird part to him was how much he contributed. Typically—he pondered as he unloaded more of his cart—he would find nothing interesting to say back. Holding a conversation with that woman came out effortlessly, like he felt a strong need to keep up with her pace.

“Idrees!” called Anush from across the store. “Yeah?” he called back. “Got some baskets in the parking lot from the rush!” “On it.”

Anush had a way of doing that. She would put him on stock duty, then feel bad about putting him on stock duty and give him a different, menial job. Usually one that involved fresh air. Given the way his palms itched and crept, he welcomed the break.

Idrees headed to the sink and gave his hands another rough washing. His nails dug into his palms to relieve that horrible skittering across his flesh. The harder he pushed, the more he thought about that tourist. She smiled at him, thinking he was a kind and decent man. He couldn't bear the thought of having that smile warp into horror if she ever found out who he really was.

He slammed the faucet off once the steam spread a film of sweat across his upper lip. Then came those damn scratchy towels. Fresh air would indeed do him some good.

Outside in the hot Indian air, Idrees collected several of the store's black handcarts. Where all too many people left their cart out on the asphalt, that American tourist had put hers in the collection bin. He thought about her laugh again. How it made her pretty face light up. He could almost hear her voice. 

“No, really, it's just not a good time for me.”

He perked up his position hunched over a discarded basket. Okay, he really did hear her voice. 

“Ah, is just one night.” That sounded like a man. 

Idrees whirled around to see the tourist at the bus stop near the store. An older man loomed over her, looking at least twice her size. She gave him a grin he recognized instantly. That “I really wish you weren't talking to me but I'm being polite” grin his coworkers had used on many creepy men. The tourist took a step away but the man kept close. 

“I really don't think my boyfriend would like that much,” she said. “He doesn't have to know.” Idrees dropped the baskets and speed walked up to them. When he drew close enough, he demanded, “What's going on here?”

The American whipped around so fast it was a miracle she didn't drop her grocery bags. Her pleading eyes met his, twinkling as though she just found her salvation.

“Babe, you made it!” she said, hurrying up to him with an arm outstretched.

She tossed it around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He took her other bag and returned the one-armed embrace.

“I was so worried you wouldn’t get off work on time,” she said. “Sorry,” he apologized, trying to sound strong and confident. “I had to stay a little late. You know my boss is a hard-ass. Who’s your friend?” She stayed close to him as she faced the older man. “He was just talking with me, I don't really know him.”

The old man looked between her and Idrees. There were a few grey streaks in his beard but he was large and intimidating. Idrees stood his ground, staring him down, familiar muscles tensing and aching from sedentary use. The rush of memories that hit him made his palms creep and he dug his nails into them.

“Well,” said the man, taking a step back, “you guys have a good one.” “You, too,” said Idrees.

The man scurried off. Idrees kept his arm around her shoulders and he leaned closer to speak privately. 

“You okay?” “Yeah, thank you. That guy was so persistent, he was freaking me out. I told him I had a boyfriend and he just didn't care. Lucky you came along when you did.” “Need me to stay for a while?” She frowned. “I wouldn't want you to get in trouble at work.” He smiled to ease her sour face. “No, my boss is a very nice woman. She'll understand.”

They sat together on the bench. Idrees kept looking over to ensure the man wouldn’t return. 

“So” he said, trying to keep the subject off her encounter, “you're on vacation?” “It's my cousin's wedding. Her fiancée wanted to go back to his home country so I'm here for a few weeks helping to get everything ready. Can't really blame her for wanting to move here. My aunt is a bitch.” “And your boyfriend, is he back home or—?” “Oh, I don't have a boyfriend. I just said that to get that guy off my back. Didn't even work. To be fair, sometimes it doesn't work back home, either.” “Yes, it doesn’t work for my coworkers, either.” “Maybe if these guys tried a different method, women wouldn’t find them as creepy. I mean, that dude wasn’t even worth a date of microwavable curry.”

That finally broke him enough to let out a little chuckle with her. Maybe it was from the odd relief in his muscles, knowing that she didn’t have a boyfriend. Or maybe this liberation came from being out in the open air with no worries of coworkers teasing him. He could almost hear Kanta: “Idrees, I’ve never heard you laugh before!”. His laughter, so foreign in his ears, gave his heart a little jump.

As their mirth faded, she gazed down the street. “And there's my bus. Thanks again for having my back.” “It was no problem.”

He watched her gather her bags. He'd already failed at making a move before. But her earlier embrace still held onto him, warm and relaxing. Seeing her in the bright sun, how it illuminated her face and made her smile glow, loosened up his tongue.

“I'd like to see you again,” he said.

She paused. Her eyes scanned him and he became horribly aware all of his flaws: patchy mustache that he still couldn't grow out, rather long in the face, hair always a messy mop, unibrow that refused to go away even after plucking and shaving, and that chip in his tooth that made him want to hide his smile from her…

He might as well have been naked. He wanted to hide away and put his words back in his mouth. But then she smiled and bit her lip, and all of that withered away under the sun. Her cheeks turned that wonderful, cute shade of pink and she twirled a lock of her hair.

“Do you have a pen?” she asked.   He retrieved it from his vest pocket and she tore off a bit of her paper bag. She wrote something down on it then handed it to him. 

“Here's the number to my hotel room. You should call me sometime.”

She stood up and hailed the bus. When she turned to grab her bags, he wanted to say goodbye, but realized he didn't know her name.

“I'm Idrees,” he blurted out, feeling kind of stupid after he realized it was on his nametag (then stupider still when he remembered she couldn't read Hindi). “I'm Cece. It was nice meeting you, Idrees.”

She collected her bags and boarded the bus. A few others went in behind, none of them being the old man. She took a window seat near him and waved goodbye, her face bright and smiling, washing away his insecurities and leaving his mind hazy with bliss. He waved back—too stunned to do anything else—and watched as the bus took her away.

[rockislandadultreads]

New Title Tuesday: Historical Fiction

Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea by Rita Chang-Eppig

When Shek Yeung sees a Portuguese sailor slay her husband, a feared pirate, she knows she must act swiftly or die. Instead of mourning, Shek Yeung launches a new plan: immediately marrying her husband’s second-in-command, and agreeing to bear him a son and heir, in order to retain power over her half of the fleet.

But as Shek Yeung vies for control over the army she knows she was born to lead, larger threats loom. The Chinese Emperor has charged a brutal, crafty nobleman with ridding the South China Seas of pirates, and the Europeans—tired of losing ships, men, and money to Shek Yeung’s alliance—have new plans for the area. Even worse, Shek Yeung’s cutthroat retributions create problems all their own. As Shek Yeung navigates new motherhood and the crises of leadership, she must decide how long she is willing to fight, and at what price, or risk losing her fleet, her new family, and even her life.

A book of salt and grit, blood and sweat, Deep as the Sky, Red as the Sea is an unmissable portrait of a woman who leads with the courage and ruthlessness of our darkest and most beloved heroes.

The Long March Home by Marcus Brotherton and Tosca Lee

Jimmy Propfield joined the army for two reasons: to get out of Mobile, Alabama, with his best friends Hank and Billy and to forget his high school sweetheart, Claire.

Life in the Philippines seems like paradise--until the morning of December 8, 1941, when news comes from Manila: Imperial Japan has bombed Pearl Harbor. Within hours, the teenage friends are plunged into war as enemy warplanes attack Luzon, beginning a battle for control of the Pacific Theater that will culminate with a last stand on the Bataan Peninsula and end with the largest surrender of American troops in history.

What follows will become known as one of the worst atrocities in modern warfare: the Bataan Death March. With no hope of rescue, the three friends vow to make it back home together. But the ordeal is only the beginning of their nearly four-year fight to survive.

Inspired by true stories, The Long March Home is a gripping coming-of-age tale of friendship, sacrifice, and the power of unrelenting hope.

Loot by Tania James

Abbas is just seventeen years old when his gifts as a woodcarver come to the attention of Tipu Sultan, and he is drawn into service at the palace in order to build a giant tiger automaton for Tipu’s sons, a gift to commemorate their return from British captivity. His fate—and the fate of the wooden tiger he helps create—will mirror the vicissitudes of nations and dynasties ravaged by war across India and Europe.

Working alongside the legendary French clockmaker Lucien du Leze, Abbas hones his craft, learns French, and meets Jehanne, the daughter of a French expatriate. When Du Leze is finally permitted to return home to Rouen, he invites Abbas to come along as his apprentice. But by the time Abbas travels to Europe, Tipu’s palace has been looted by British forces, and the tiger automaton has disappeared. To prove himself, Abbas must retrieve the tiger from an estate in the English countryside, where it is displayed in a collection of plundered art.

The Lost Journals of Sacajewea by Debra Magpie Earling

Among the most memorialized women in American history, Sacajewea served as interpreter and guide for Lewis and Clark's Corps of Discovery. In this visionary novel, acclaimed Indigenous author Debra Magpie Earling brings this mythologized figure vividly to life, casting unsparing light on the men who brutalized her and re-centering Sacajewea as the arbiter of her own history.

Raised among the Lemhi Shoshone, in this telling the young Sacajewea is bright and bold, growing strong from the hard work of "learning all ways to survive" gathering berries, water, roots, and wood; butchering buffalo, antelope, and deer; catching salmon and snaring rabbits; weaving baskets and listening to the stories of her elders. When her village is raided and her beloved Appe and Bia are killed, Sacajewea is kidnapped and then gambled away to Charbonneau, a French Canadian trapper.

Heavy with grief, Sacajewea learns how to survive at the edge of a strange new world teeming with fur trappers and traders. When Lewis and Clark's expedition party arrives, Sacajewea knows she must cross a vast and brutal terrain with her newborn son, the white man who owns her, and a company of men who wish to conquer and commodify the world she loves.

Written in lyrical, dreamlike prose, The Lost Journals of Sacajewea is an astonishing work of art and a powerful tale of perseverance--the Indigenous woman's story that hasn't been told.

[mint-moon25]

PILIPINAS - 'FORCING - HEAT' - OUR - VOLCANIC -

MOISTURE - WEATHER - LIKE - 175 - DEGREES FL -

HEAT - SHORT - BURSTS - OF - STRESS EXAMPLE -

INTERMITTENT - FASTING

ONCE - PER - DAY - 12P - UNTIL - 6P

WHEN - U - EAT - NOT - WHAT - YOU - EAT

START - 12P - AS - MUCH - AS - U - CAN - 2

18 HRS - OF - FASTING - REMOVAL - OF -

POISON - FR - OUR - BODIES - TOXINS -

REMOVED - ANOTHER - STRESS - THE -

HEAT - SPENDING - TIME - IN - SAUNA -

I'M - MADE - A - DECISION - GOING - 2B -

ALSO - AN - ARCHITECT - AS - WE - ARE -

GBC - FILM - TV - STUDIOS

TAKESHI - FILM - TV - STUDIOS

PLACES - THAT - NEED - BUILT MY PART

ALSO - AS - LICENSE - ARCHITECT - BUT

PARIS - FRANCE - CITY OVER - 2,000 -

YEARS OLD - MAKATI - EST - 67,000 -

YEARS - WE'RE - GOING - BACK - IN -

TIME - JOSEON - OVER - 125 YRS - AGO -

GOREA - OVER - 1,000 YRS - OLD - YES -

THE - ARCHITECT - OF - THEIR HOUSES -

PALACES - BUT - HISTORICALLY - MORE -

ACCURATE - PARIS - FRANCE - SEWERS -

MOST - AUTHENTIC CLOTHES - LIKE -

THE - POOR - 500 YEARS - INFERIOR -

COTTON - TAKING - HISTORICAL - FASHION -

UNIVERSITY - OF - PARIS - AS - WE - CREATE -

JOSEON - AND - GOREO - HISTORICAL - AND -

CORRECT - OUTFITS - SO - WILL - BECOME -

ARCHITECT - AFTER - ALL - THANKS - 2 YES -

BEIJING - CHINA - OLD - MALE - DOCTORS -

ACUPUNCTURE - 2 - MAKE - ME - LINGUAL -

200 LANGUAGES - OF - INDIA

MANY - OTHER - LANGUAGES

RETENTION - CAN - HANDLE - SNOW - SO -

ZUMA CUM LAUDE

WITH - SPEECH

ARCHITECTURE

FREE - FR - MIAMI - HOOKERS - LESBIANS -

VIOLENT SHOOTERS - FR PUBLIC SCHOOLS -

NC - TAXES - QUARTERLY

$0 - $0 - $0 - $0

ST JUDE's - CHILDREN's - RESEARCH

HOSPITALS - MY GOAL - $100 BILLION

MY - PERSONAL - REFERENCES

BRICKEL - CITY - CENTRE

PSYCHO - BUNNY DAY B 4

EASTER - SUNDAY

HARD - LIQUOUR - SABBATH

HISPANIC - WOMEN DRUNKS

MIAMI - FLORIDA - FL

WHAT - IS - COV-ID 19 - CORONAVIRUS -

RESPIRATORY - COLDS - COUGH - HIGH -

FEVER - SOLUTION - OF - SORE - THROUGHT

AND - COUGH - HOT - SHOWERS - AMERICAN

ADAGE - FEED - A - COLD - STARVE A - FEVER

SOLUTION - 2 - CORONAVIRUS

PHILIPPINE - WEATHER - HEAT

INTENSE - VOLCANIC - WITH - MOISTURE

WHEN - WINDS - BLOW - HEATED - ALSO

BEACH - NATIN - LIKE - JACUZZI

SHOCK - BODY - GIVE - STRESS - HOW -

INTERMITTENT - FASTING

ONCE - A DAY - STARTS - AT - 12P

EATING - FR - 12P - TO - 6P DAILY

THEN - 18 HRS - BODY - CAN - RELEASE

POISON - TOXINS - BODY - GETTING OUT

DANGEROUS - SUBSTANCE - FR WRONG

FOODS - ESPECIALLY - U - WILL - POOP

IT - WILL - HAPPEN

ANOTHER - WAY - 2 - STRESS - BODY

SAUNA - INTENSE - HEAT - WE - ARE

AS - ARCHITECTS - DESIGNING - ALL

OUR - PLACES - 2 - HAVE - SAUNA

STOPS - AGING - JUST - LIKE - YES

SNOW - AREAS - STRESSORS - UNDER

COLD - PLUNGING

ASHEVILLE - NORTH CAROLINA - LIKE

MIAMI - LOWS - OF - 27 DEGREES BOTH

SAME - BUT - ASHEVILLE - SNOW AND

LEGENDARY - BEAUTIFUL - MOUNTAINS

SAUNA - STOPS - HEART - PROBLEMS

IMPORTANT - THAT - SWEAT

PILIPINAS - NATURAL - SWEAT

CHARLIE SHEEN - WAS - IN - THE - SHADE

LESS - THAN - 1 HOUR - LOST - 25 LBS - FR

JUST - STANDING - IN A - SHADE - MANILA

AFTER - SAUNA - WHAT - WE - ALSO - HAVE

COCONUT - JUICE

WITH - OR - WITHOUT - PULP

SOPHISTICATED - COCONUT - WATER

THAILAND - WITH - BABY - PULP - BUT

WHILE - EXERCISING - WITHOUT PULP

AFTER - EXERCISE - WITH - PULP

B 4 - EXERCISE - WHAT - PILIPINAS

HAS - COCONUT - JUICE - OR - WATER

WITHOUT - PULP - SO - CORONAVIRUS

WE - HAVE - THE - SOLUTION

VOLCANIC - MOISTURE - WEATHER OF

PILIPINAS - LOTS - OF - SWEAT - BUT

DURING - AND - AFTER - OR - BEFORE

COCONUT - JUICE - WITHOUT - PULP

AFTER - WITH - PULP

COV-ID 19 - OUR - WEATHER - AND -

COCONUTS - THE - SOLUTION BUT -

WHAT - DID - OTHERS - ADD - 2 - US -

WE - HAVE - DEATHS - ALSO -

6 FT - SOCIAL - DISTANCING -

THAT - WAS - WHAT - WE - JUST -

LEARNED - THAT's - IT

SO - BAHAY - KUBO - MUST - HAVE -

ALSO - SAUNA - SO - WE - STAY YES -

INDOORS - 4 - THE - POOR - GO OUT -

THERE - SO - WHEN - EVERYONE -

TOLD - U 2 - STAY - INDOORS - IN -

AIR CONDITIONING - AND - AC - ALSO -

PRODUCES - ASTHMA - HARD - 2 - YES -

BREATHE

STAYING - INDOORS - AS - PILIPINAS -

WAS - THE - WORST - ORDER - FOR A -

SAUNA - WAS - THE - SOLUTION AND -

AS - RICH - ALL - KIDS - HAVE - THEIR -

OWN - BATHROOM - 4 - THOSE - WITH -

COV-ID 19 - MUST - HAVE - THEIR OWN -

DAHIL - CONTAGEOUS

SO - DURING - WORLD - PANDEMIC -

6 FT - SOCIAL - DISTANCING - YES -

BUT - REMAINING - OUTDOORS - 2 -

SWEAT - FR - INTENSE - VOLCANIC -

HEAT - DRINKING - COCONUT JUICE -

WITHOUT PULP - THEN - AFTER -

WITH - PULP - WAS - SOLUTION -

CORONAVIRUS - UNDER BIBLE -

'LEADERS - INSTEAD - OF - FOLLOWERS -

OF - NATIONS' - LARGE - POPULATIONS -

USA - OVER - 333 MILLION - THEIR YES -

DEATHS - OVER - 1 MILLION

BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE - SAID

'YOU'RE - NOT - ALLOWED - 2 TAKE -

SHOWER - IN - THEIR - RESTROOM' -

'PRIVATE - PROPERTY'

WHEN - AMERICANS - WHY - THEY -

DIED OF CORONAVIRUS - BECAUSE -

AS - INDEPENDENT - FR - FAMILIES -

THEY - NEVER - SHOWERED - IN THE -

APTS - THEY - LIVED - IN - ILLEGALLY -

THEY - WENT - 2 - WORK - WITHOUT -

SHOWERING - ONLY - EVENTUALLY -

DID - BECAUSE - ITCHINESS - THEN -

THEY - SHOWERED - THAT - IS - WHY -

DIED - OF - COV-ID 19 - THEIR LACK -

OF - SHOWER - SO - THEY - SAID - I -

TOOK - SHOWER - IN - THEIR - RESTROOM -

BLK - MALE - SECURITY - SAID - BECAUSE -

I - BROUGHT - LUGGAGE - AS - PILIPINAS -

THEY - HAVE - TUMI - LUGGAGE - FIRST -

FLOOR - BECAUSE - DIDN'T - BUY - THAT -

I - WAS BANGED - ON - RESTROOM -

DISABLED - BECAUSE - 'PRIVATE -

PROPERTY' - SAID - 9P - CLOSED -

GOOGLE - SEARCH

MALICE - SLANDER - PERJURY -

$750,000 - MAX - FINE - AND OR -

IMPRISONMENT

TACOLOGY

CUBAN - CUISINE

SUSHI

CLOSES - 1A EDT

CMX - FILM - THEATRE - 10:30P - FINAL - SHOW

CASA - TUA - CUCINA - ITALIAN

9:30A - 10:30P - DAILY - THEY'VE

GOT - OWN - RESTROOMS

SO - BRICKELL - CITY - CENTRE

PRAY - DEUT 28 - CURSES - FOR

UNWELCOMING - PHILIPPINES I

ALREADY - SHOOK - DUST FROM

MY - FEET - 2023 - LAST - YEAR

OF - 67,000 - MEDICAL HISTORY

NOW - TOPLESS - DANCERS

TOPLESS - SINGERS

TOPLESS - VEILED - BELLY DANCER

TOPLESS - COCKTAIL - WAITTRESS

WHY LESBIANS - LESBIANS - WARNING

MEN - MARRIED - 2 - MEN - WHY - WHY

GOD - CREATED - US - NAKED - WHEN

WE - WERE - BORN

ADAM - AND - EVE - NAKED - CLOUDS

COVERED - THEIR - BODIES

WATER - CONSERVATION - WHEN

NAKED - BECAUSE - FEMALES - R

MOST - BEAUTIFUL - AS - NAKED

CLOTHES - ALSO - COVERS OUR

BEAUTY - WHILE - WE'RE - YOUNG

AND - BREATHTAKING - ALSO OUR

BODIES - NEED - 2 - BREATHE - SO

BEING - SINGLE - HOLIEST - LIVING

TOPLESS - JOBS - IS - A - RELEASE

FROM - COVERED - BY - EVIL - YES

HUMANS - HARRASSING - AND OR

DEGRADING - FEMALE - RACE - AS

UNITED STATES

TYRANT - OPPRESSIVE

NOT - 'LIFE - LIBERTY - AND PURSUIT

OF - HAPPINESS'

UNITED STATES - AGE 245

'LIES - LIES - LIES'

'LAND - OF - THE - FREE'

'HOME - OF - THE - AMERICAN INDIAN

BRAVE' - TORTURE - ABUSE - LIFE - IN

THE - UNITED STATES - THEY - TRIED 2

SHOOT - ME - AFTER - MY - BIRTHDAY

TODAY - AT - BRICKELL - CITY CENTRE

MIAMI - FLORIDA - FL - EIGHT STREET

DR JOSE RIZAL

MANILA - 3 BOILED EGGS - LAST MEAL

EXECUTED BY SPAIN - RIFFLE - SHOTS

NOT - A - NATIONAL - HERO OF THE

REPUBLIC - OF - THE - PHILIPPINES

[ilearnedthistodaysblog]

What is the difference between a crocodile and an alligator?

What is the difference between a crocodile and an alligator? There are many differences, including their color, size, snout shape, where they live, behavior, the strength of their bite, and many more.

Both crocodiles and alligators come from the family crocodilian. They appeared about 94 million years ago and have a thick scaly skin. They mostly live in water and are very good swimmers. However, they can move on land as well. They are generally slow, but they can sprint at 14 km/h for short bursts. They are not amphibians, but they can hold their breath underwater for between 15 minutes and two hours. They are related to birds, but they are cold-blooded. They are carnivores but have a very low metabolic rate, so they can survive on one large meal for months. An adult crocodile can survive for half a year without eating. The smallest species of crocodilian are about 1 meter long and the largest species, the saltwater crocodile, grow up to 6 meters long and weigh 1.5 tons. Alligators and crocodiles have a lot of similarities, but they also have several differences. They diverged as a species about 80 million years ago. Incidentally, both of their names mean “lizard”. “Crocodile” comes from the Ancient Greek, krokodilos, which meant “lizard”. And “alligator” comes from the Spanish el lagarto, which meant “the lizard”.

So, how are crocodiles and alligators different? The first difference is where they live. There are 18 different species of crocodile, and they are found in warm, tropical areas. They cannot handle the cold as well as alligators can. Crocodiles can be found in Central America (as far south as Colombia and as far north as southern Florida), central Africa, India, southern Asia, and all the way down to northern Australia. There are only two species of alligator, and they live in the southeastern United States and eastern China. If you are not in either of those two areas, then you are looking at a crocodile.

Alligators and crocodiles also have a different color. Alligators are black or dark olive-brown on top and have a cream-colored underside. Crocodiles are usually green, grey, black or brown. They usually have stripes or a mottled pattern. This coloration shows where they live and how they hunt. Crocodiles tend to live in open water or in water with a lot more algae. Their colors help them blend in. Alligators stay closer to the banks of rivers and lakes, and their colors help them blend into the mud and lakebed.

The two animals vary in size and aggression as well. Crocodiles are much larger than alligators. Crocodiles are also much more aggressive than alligators. This is probably because their size allows them to be. Both alligators and crocodiles are apex predators, but crocodiles are able to catch much larger prey. Alligators have been known to attack bears and panthers, but they are more likely to attack smaller and easier prey. Crocodiles will attack anything if it comes close enough to the water.

Crocodiles and alligators have a different snout shape. Alligators have a U-shaped snout, and their upper jaw is larger than their lower jaw, so you can only see their top teeth when their jaws are shut. Crocodiles have a pointed V-shaped snout, and their jaws are pretty much the same size, so you can see most of their teeth when their mouths are shut. They both have strong jaws, but crocodiles have a greater bite force. In fact, the Australian saltwater crocodile has the strongest bite of any animal. They have strong hard muscles on either side of their jaws that bring their jaws together with a force of 1,678 kg. However, all of their muscles are concentrated on bringing the jaws closed and they have very few muscles to open the jaw, which is why you can easily duct tape a crocodile’s mouth closed.

Alligators have webbed feet and crocodiles do not. This makes alligators faster swimmers than crocodiles. However, crocodiles have longer bones in their legs, so they are able to raise their bodies up when they run on land. Crocodiles can run on land with their bodies touching the ground, or they can lift their bodies up and run. Alligators can only run with their bodies close to the ground.

A final difference between alligators and crocodiles is that crocodiles tend to live longer. Alligators usually live between 30 and 50 years, but crocodiles can live up to 100 years. This is probably because of their size. In nature, larger animals tend to live longer than smaller animals. And this is what I learned today.

Photo by Pixabay from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-crocodlie-lying-on-ground-60644/

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[harpagornis]

Caecilians of Lemuria

Where in most landmasses squamates thrive, on Lemuria they are only represented by geckoes (which boast an impressive diversity of 60 known species), two snakes, a monitor lizard and a few oplurids. Many niches are taken by their sphenodont relatives, whose fortunes have favoured them on this island, but the majority of squamate niches are instead taken by caecilians.

Caecilians in Lemuria are represented by two clades: Chikilidae and Ichthyophiidae. Having a presence in mainland Asia – which is speculated to be a result of India colliding with Asia – chikilids thrived in former Maldivia and ichthyophiids in former Marama. The former, finding themselves with few squamatan competitors, wasted no time expanding into niches taken by squamates elsewhere, while the latter found themselves in an environment with few competing fishes.

Thus, when the two landmasses collided and formed Lemuria, neither competed with one another: chikilids took the land, while ichthyophiids took the water.

Phytophis fatamara or Palavify, a herbivorous chikilid demonstrating the long facial tentacles, large eyes and scale-derived spikes often present in non-subterranean species. It grazes slowly on the open pastures, eyes constantly watching and tentacles constantly feeling the texture and taste of vegetation. By Dave Garcia.

Represented in mainland Asia by only a single genus, here there are 70 known species and probably far more, occuring in all manner of environments from wetlands to montane meadows to even semi desert. Unlike snakes, caecilians cannot unhinge their jaws, but their flexible and robust skulls more than make up not just in terms of prey capture (many species are venomous like snakes too) but also in grazing: some chikilids are among the few herbivorous adult amphibians out there.

Some species took to life in the trees; while the eyes increased somewhat, it was the tentacles present on all caecilians that engorged the most, becoming full on analogous to a mammal’s vibrissae or a serpent’s tongue, allowing them to feel for prey branches away. Others took like to open spaces; some are burrowers, while others took the fish scales present within the caecilian skin to develop long and unique spikes, looking like massive catterpilars as they graze.

Due to the sheer diversity of this group – small species barely interact with humans, for instance – there is all manner of folklore regarding these impressive creatures, from symbols of longevity like snakes to garden pests like snails. Many are part of Lemurian cuisine, and indeed many species are threatened by overhunting as well as habitat loss, pollution and fungi that target amphibians.

Pisciserpens sammangali or Pitava, demonstrating the fusiform fish-like body of the more aquatic members of this group. It forms large schools that migrate between the Great Lakes and the Sammangal, and is often called the “Lemurian sardine”. By Dave Garcia.

Also Lemuria has fishes, they’re most represented by a few families shared with Madagascar. The dominant force in Lemurian freshwater habitats are ichthyophiid caecilians. Some are still semi-aquatic terrestrial burrowers in wetlands and tropical rainforests, but several clades have taken to the water, developing a caudal fin (similar to that of ichthyosaurs, mosasaurs and metriorhynchids) and an oval, fish-like body shape with a dorsal and anal fin (they do not have fins/flippers, like fish-like molluscs, and do just fine without them). Like most amphibians they breathe through their skin – the dorsal and anal fins partcularly well suited for this due to the increased surface area – but the more metabolically active species regularly surface for air. Unlike aquatic salamanders, they lose the larval gills for hydrodynamic efficiency.

The vast majority of the aquatic species occurs in the Great Lakes region, where 80 species are known, occupying all manner of niches from sardine like filter-feeders to durophagists feeding on hard clams and snails to macropredators competing with the local crocodiles. At least 40 species migrate to the Sammangal during the monsoon season, taking advantage of the sunken forest to graze on the underwater saplings or adult leaves or hunt the myriad of prey availiable.

[myrontile]

How to Choose the Best Granite Stone suppliers for Your Home

https://myrontile.ca/Granite stone comes in a variety of sizes, colors and quality levels. With the many options out there, choosing the best granite slab for your home may seem intimidating at first. However Mississauga granite suppliers explains, there are some things you can do to make the process easier on yourself, even as a first-time buyer.

The Quality of the Granite

The quality of a granite slab depends on where it was mined and how it was cut. Some of the most important qualities to look for include hardness and density, which can help you determine how resistant a particular stone is to scratches, cracks, and wear.

Level 1 Granite

A common and affordable level of granite, this type of stone typically has a consistent color and pattern. These types of stones are often found in kitchens or other areas where the surface is not subject to heavy traffic.

Level 2 Granite

This is the next step up in quality, and it typically has more distinct patterns and colors than Level 1 granite. It is also generally more durable and more resistant to damage.

High-Grade Granite

Unlike the lower grades of granite, this material has unique and one-of-a-kind colors, patterns, and veins that are difficult to replicate. This type of stone is thicker and more durable, and is usually imported from India or Brazil.

The most common way to test the quality of a granite slab is to drop a few drops of water onto it. If the water absorbs quickly, it means that the granite is porous and needs to be resealed regularly.

For more details contact Myron Tile And Stone, top granite suppliers in Mississauga.

https://myrontile.ca/