#he gives her agency and in return despite all of the failings she experienced... she's able to get up and fight again and again

[ladsofsorrow24]

one of the most confusing yet funniest thing that happened in in medalist is actually hikaru's very one-sided beef with tsukasa lol

like damn she really just... hates him huh

but i can understand though, the thing about being kids is that, it takes time for them to understand that everyone have nuance and just because other people have different opinions and ways of doing things from you, doesn't mean they're terrible people...

it's just like rioh and yodaka's whole... thing.

that man literally sees rioh as his own nephew, yet this is the guy who got some of The Most terrible communication skill in the story, and every time he talk to rioh, he just end up hurting that kid... like the beef is so one-sided, i'm glad rioh is able to meet tsukasa and gradually get over his insecurities when it comes to comparing his own success to hikaru herself and yodaka jun lol

also, inori's got her own beef with yodaka too lmao i hope tsurumaikada will let these two confront each other again, maybe without tsukasa to protect her... maybe then we'll see a new side of them 🤔🤔🤔

[arigatouiris]

red right hand // t.h [00]

pairing: 1920s mob!tom holland x f!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, sexual references, mafia au!, mentions of ptsd, trauma, anxiety attacks, a dash of sexism, angst, slow burn, alcohol and smoking mentioned

word count: 2033

a/n: heavily inspired from this show i’ve been watching, the peaky blinders. so there’s a lot of information about tunneling during the war. this story is set in 1920 and the hollands are over 20 years of age. all of it is fictionized, i’m merely using the hollands’ names and faces for the story’s progression. reader is obviously british (but in the 1900′s so she can be irish if you want her to be or anyone from great britain) hope ya’ll like it~

if you want to be on the taglist, just send an ask or drop a reply~

Prologue

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In 1920, organized crime ran rampant all over Great Britain.

It wasn’t just in robberies and bookmaking, but there were several other types of meandering crimes that were left unattended by the police (otherwise known as the copper by the locals) because a great amount of money was involved. Assault, extortion, fraud, murder, fencing, hooliganism, bribery, smuggling (of goods, contraband and often drugs), and hijacking were some of the crimes that came under the organization of urban street gangs that ran its party in London around the time. Several areas in Britain such as Birmingham, Liverpool, Wales, and Ireland had gangs that dominated the district with some or the other mentioned crimes.

However, there was only one urban street gang that took precedence over all the others. The Londoners. Originated as a mere illegal bookmaking agency (one of the several in London), the Holland family ran their vigilant control over a minor part of London, near the Thames. They came to be known as the Londoners because they were all from London, they were not too big on names.

Unlike other gangs that had a marginal male authoritative figure who was standalone in making decisions related to organized crime, the Hollands were different. While the older boys in the Holland family—Thomas, Sam, and Harry were off in the war, it was the matriarch Nicola (or Nikki, as called by the rest of the family), who ran the command. She wasn’t cold, but stern—her sternness gave her an aura of intimidation but people would often trust her because of this charm. A dangerous glint in her eye when she ran business, and when turmoil would strike, Nikki often had enough fire to fight back each time.

When the boys left for war, they were mere children. Thomas “Tommy” Holland, the eldest of four boys, was known for his charm and wit—too much like his mother and carrying only the good traits his father left behind, Tom made a fine leader who never succumbed to greed or malicious threat making. Tommy’s cherished possessions were his family, he wasn’t one to give in to hedonistic pleasures like his younger sibling Sam, and he wasn’t a glass-hearted lover like his other sibling Harry. Tommy was gifted with great looks, and most of all, he had a warm kindness in him that went unmatched with any other urban gang leader. 

Sam and Harry, twins, were younger than Tommy and sometimes proved it. They were playful, boys were often that way when young and unmonitored; unburdened with running a business or having to worry about the throes of industrialized London. While Sam wasn’t too interested in women that often, he enjoyed the richness money gave him, the pleasures of which he would bury himself under; some would comment behind his back, (as people often do), that he would bury himself in fancy things because he was devoid of the love of a father when young. Not many knew if this was the case. Harry loved women and children, but women more particularly so; but he had a weak heart that often fell too fast and hard for the wrong people. Before the war, Harry had a lover he thought he would spend the rest of his life with (despite hearing from so many others that this lover of his had other lovers).

But, while things were fun and dandy before the war, war changes boys into broken men. Thomas, Sam, and Harry were tunnelers. Tunnel warfare was not uncommon to Great Britain at the time, but it was indeed one of the most dangerous. It changed a man into something he could never change back from, and the boys who were placed there under no one’s command never saw the end of the tunnel that they were digging. It affected Thomas the most, while his entire intention was to protect his younger twin brothers.

Mining saw a brief resurgence as a military tactic during the First World War, when army engineers attempted to break the stalemate of trench warfare by tunneling under no man's land and laying large quantities of explosives beneath the enemy's trenches. As in siege warfare, tunnel warfare was possible due to the static nature of the fighting. Working in cold, cramped conditions, miners worked in 6- or 12-hour rotating shifts. Miners were prone to illness, with high rates of trench foot and bad food disease, while fatigue compounded the situation, creating a high mortality rate. The miners also had to cope with difficult circumstances when they entered the mining tunnels. Often the tunnels were dark, small and flooded with water. Tunnellers were billeted quite a long way back from the front line, while a regular Royal Navy-style rum ration was issued to keep out the cold.

However long it took for them to fight as tunnelers, the Hollands returned home safe and sound, albeit physically. One of the nights, the tunnels intersected with the enemy trench, giving way for the Hollands to be under attack. Nightmares of the incident still haunt the three brothers, but Thomas more than the rest. At night, he could hear the sound of shovels against rock slowly creeping toward him, depriving him of sleep.

The person that Tom was when he returned came as a shock to his mother, Nikki. She was used to seeing him smile more, laugh and be presentable. He would never shy away from a conversation and wasn’t so secretive. But, she understood that war kills boys—war had no place for people who wanted to be mentally healthy, it was a darkness that you choose selflessly because you want to devoid the rest of the innocents from experiencing the same.

Nikki had understood one thing firmly. The day Thomas Holland left for war, he never came back.

•

Tommy had ambition, and sometimes, Nikki told him that would be his downfall.

He was tired of running the streets; he wanted to be something more. They managed bookmaking, and even that was illegal. His ambition was to rise among the ranks, to take where his family had never been—and for that to happen, he needed a push. He didn’t know on most days what he was waiting for, where the push would come from, what the push would make him do. But, one thing was certain—he was ready for it, regardless of what it might be.

It was a cold evening in London that evening when Tom noticed a young girl wave at him from behind a cornered street. Harry was with him at the time, narrating some tale about a long lost love, a tale Tom wasn’t really paying attention to. The young girl, who looked like she was merely 8 or 9, waved at Tom frantically, which made him follow her to the corner. It could have been a trap, but his heart spoke of an opportunity, and he knew his luck had never failed him until now.

    “Tommy, where you going?” Harry called out, confused at his brother’s sudden movement.

    “Quick, Harry,” Tom said, chasing after the girl, knowing something was waiting for him on the other side.

The girl led him across various corners in the streets of London. Some of these corners, he had never even known about. Industrialization had ruined his home, and it had robbed him and the rest of London from any sun that could have pierced through grey skies.

    “What’s going on, Tommy?” Harry whispered now, frowning and confused.

Thomas chose not to respond but merely follow his instinct. The girl stopped when a clearing came, stood in front of a few crates—brown and large, carrying within them some contraband that had fallen off course.

    “What is this?” It was Harry who asked, while Tom contemplated.

Tom walked over to one of the crates and the girl handed him a wrench, using which he easily opened the lid off the top crate. Harry’s eyes widened as both their eyes landed on guns, stacked over one another—in groups of eight or more.

    “Tommy, we really shouldn’t be…”

He knew. He knew he really shouldn’t be anywhere near these crates. Turning one of the guns around, Thomas noticed the sigil of the police—a smirk growing on his face. Harry shivered, knowing what they were doing was against their own protocol.

    “Tommy—”

    “Harry, what do you see here?” Thomas asked, examining one of the guns, his smirk sat firmly on his face.

    “I see guns that we shouldn’t be touchin’, Tom.”

    “I see an opportunity, brother,” Tom said, grinning widely. “We’re going to need them.”

What they need them for, Harry had no idea. But ever since returning from the war, anything Thomas said, anything Thomas wanted, anything Thomas needed—he never had to demand. It would just happen. As it did right then.

•

Sam was bored out of his mind. 

He skipped patrol that morning because he had woken up drunk—working in a bar that Thomas had gifted him for their birthday wasn’t the best thing for him, but it was cherished nonetheless. That morning, the business was slow. People now had jobs, feeding their younguns, while Sam sat around at the bar alone and dreaded missing patrol.

The door chimed and he saw a woman, [h/c] hair let loose and casual clothing—a brick-colored skirt with a white blouse, [e/c] eyes shining at him as she walked in. She wore a hat, which was strange around these parts of London, and he knew instantly that she was a posh girl.

    “How can I help you, miss?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. He noticed the bag she was carrying, and she looked hopeful.

Again, a strange feature around these parts.

    “Are you Sam Holland?” Her voice was melodious, and he knew right away from her accent that she was not around this place.

    “Who’s askin’?”

    “My name is [y/n]. I’m looking for a job.”

Sam chuckled as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. He looked at her once more, her hopeful eyes causing him to burst out laughing.

    “Do you know what kind of men even enter this pub?”

She didn’t look fazed. “I’ve got experience. I’ve been a barmaid before.”

Sam shook his head, “Experience don’t matter, lassie. A posh little lady like yourself will be torn to shreds in a dingy place like this one. Sorry, with a face like that, I can’t hire ya.”

[y/n] didn’t give up. She looked determined while she took another step forward. Sam paused, watching what she was up to. She placed her bag on the ground before getting up on the chair, causing him to raise his eyebrows at her. A moment later, she began to sing.

“'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, And give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter, Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away. When true hearts lie withered, And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit This bleak world alone?”

Sam didn’t realize his eyes were wide the whole time, as [y/n] stepped down after her song. His jaw was slightly ajar, and his eyes were burning.

    “Music hasn’t been heard in these parts ever since the war. Men forget what they want out of greed when the sound of a song hits their ears.”

Sam, understanding the effect her music had on him, nodded once before shaking his head.

    “Not sure what Tommy will say about the music, but hey. That was one good song.”

When [y/n] didn’t smile right away, Sam should have known something was off. But, the music had mesmerized him so much that no thought of suspicion entered his mind. He was lost now, in the idea of music alone, waiting for a chance to present it to the world.

▾

series taglist: 

@cyrusandhiscollaredahirts​ @plaidamoosette​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @tanya-diggory​ 

[matildainmotion]

Rejection, Failures and Fxck Ups – A New, or Very Old, Approach to Loss and Losing

          “It’s okay to make mistakes – that’s how you learn;” “It’s the taking part that counts -the playing, not the winning;” “If you can learn to lose that will be a huge achievement.” I hear myself saying these and similar truisms when my daughter comes last in a race with her impossibly long-legged brother, or breaks a cup, or spills her drink, or when my son’s carefully planned prank goes awry, or the drawing he is trying to do does not come out right. In such moments of acute vulnerability my daughter howls – a cry of deep and terrible anguish, that can go on for a great many minutes after the original loss. I noticed even when she was a baby that falling, for her, was failing, an injury not so much to her body as her soul- as if the ground had deliberately struck her, undermining her upright dignity. My son, on the other hand, does not howl, but rather bares his teeth, makes fists, swings punches at me or anyone else who might have witnessed and therefore in some way contributed to his sense of failure. In both instances, when they weep and wail, gnash teeth - because on a child-scale their circumstances seem serious and awful - I have comforted them and then come out with some version of the above statements. They are trite but I have believed that the basic message – ‘it’s fine to fail’ – was a sound one. At least, that’s what I thought until last week.

           Last Friday I experienced two forms of failure which, on an adult-scale, were really very minor. One was the culmination of a writing competition, run by a literary agency – the prize: mentorship and representation. I had not entered it to win – I had entered it in order to have a focus, a deadline, to practice submitting my fiction, rather than hiding with it in a secret corner. The winners were due to be announced on Friday. Despite being clear my primary motivation for entering was not winning, despite being certain I would not be selected, come Friday morning I was nervous. I was checking Twitter for the announcement and felt a strange mix of repulsion and respect for those on there who were frank enough to tweet, with nail-biting gifs, about their angst, their aspirations, their hope. Hope - Dickinson’s feathered thing but, despite the feathers, the only item not to fly out from Pandora’s box- a quiet, little creature with wondrous and terrible tenacity. On Friday I wanted to get the damn thing out of the box. I wanted it to fly away. I tried hard to shake it loose - it wouldn’t budge. I was feeling hopeful.

           Meanwhile, down the hill, at our allotment, there were some other little things in a box, that did not yet have feathers, only fluff: chicks. I hadn’t been hopeful about the eggs. We had collected them from a faraway farm – in theory they were fertilised but the woman who sold them to us did so for half price because, she said, “It’s late in the season and I can’t be sure. I’ll give you a variety to give you a better chance.” And then, on top of that, our broody hen (the Star Wars-inspired ‘Princess Layer’), at first rejected the pale blue ones that did not look like hers, and only later started sitting on them, so I thought they had probably got too cold and nothing was going to hatch. But Thursday morning, four weeks after she first went broody, sitting day in day out in the dark of the nest box, I lifted up the Princess and lo and behold there was a broken shell, and a tiny, wet, cheeping chick. Friday morning, after checking Twitter, I pedalled down the hill to the hens. Chick number one had fluffed up to full yellow cuteness and been joined by chick number two. Little wings, dark eyes, pale pink claws. I thought that was it, and began to take the other eggs, the pale blue ones, away. But as I lifted an egg, I saw a black spy hole in its shell, and behind the hole – motion - someone inside. I felt small, in awe, as if whoever was within knew things I didn’t, couldn’t. Breath held, heart fast, I put the eggs back. Here was hope in action. An actual hatching - the Easter pinup – the most famous of images for spring, for life returning.

           By Friday evening I had not won the competition and the chick was dead. It had hatched after hours of work – who knew hatching could be so like a human labour in its length and intensity? Yet it had managed, had come out whole -a bold bundle of breath, blood, beak, incontrovertible evidence that whichever came first – chicken or egg – the result was the same: life. But then it had been weaker than the others, who had had a head start, and the broody hen was growing restless – when I came back to check on them before bed, I found it lying, limp, still warm, thin eyelids down, little claws unclenched, half buried in the straw. If I had come earlier, if I had separated it, if I had cleared out the straw…maybe it would have lived.

        I have been very lucky – I have never had a miscarriage or a still birth. This was only a little chick. Nonetheless I felt broken. I tried out the truisms that I have used on my children a thousand times - they did not cut it. Worse than that – they seemed offensive. I wanted to howl like my daughter, and rage like my son. They knew something I didn’t. Just like that chick did. So I gave up trying to teach my children how to lose with grace and decided to consider instead what I might learn from them.

           My son goes from one obsession to the next, as many children do, but he does so with particular, on-the-spectrum intensity. Feb to April was My Little Pony. April to June was Beast Quest. He is now onto the Greek myths. To be fair there is some consistency through this- believe it or not both My Little Pony and Beast Quest draw heavily on Greek mythology for inspiration. This is the first time his obsessions have overlapped with mine - in my writing I am also working on a Greek myth. What strikes me as I study the stories through my son’s eyes is that they are full of characters, divine and mortal, who fail, fall and fxck up royally, who lose face, lose their lovers and their loved ones, and that when they do, they are terrible losers. The heroes and heroines in these myths don’t hold back on their howling and their raging. They cry for weeks, years even. They cry so hard they change shape or change the world around them. They swear vengeance for their losses, plan awful punishments, wage long and horrible wars. No one tells Hector, Achilles, Paris: “Never mind mate – it’s the taking part that counts.” Now I am not proposing to use the ancient Greek myths as a new model for mothering, but there is something relieving about their heroes unashamed and often moving melodramas, about their sense of seriousness and ceremony. Inspired by these myths, my son held a burial for the chick, by the raspberry bushes on the allotment. He knelt and said a prayer to Zeus, and then to Hades and Persephone, asking them to welcome the little creature when it arrived with them, to let it fly free. This was after he had railed at me for an hour – crying, shouting, trying to punch me, beating the wall, accusing me of murder – full on, proper grief, worthy of those ancient Greeks. It struck me I could have done the same with my writing disappointment: printed out the webpage announcing the happy winners, then wept upon it bitterly. Built a ceremonial fire, burnt the paper, whilst sending off my prayers for the Herculean stamina and strength required to keep writing. What I’m trying to say is that I’m aware I have been guilty of that crime our culture commits daily- tidying disappointment and loss away too quickly, making it constructive, sidestepping the difficulty, heading straight for claiming: “I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m fine. I’m over it.”  

           In the modern mythic classic, We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, written by Michael Rosen, illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, a book more befitting my daughter’s than my son’s age bracket, each time the children encounter a new obstacle in the landscape – long grass, mud, a river, a snowstorm- they chant:

We can't go over it. We can't go under it. Oh no! We've got to go through it!

This is the insight that my children, a small chick and some Greek gods have reminded me of in the last week: you’ve got to go through it. Not over it, not under it, not round it, but through it. I did know this before – I know how excruciating it is when someone tries to teach you a lesson, give advice, instead of being present with the pain of where you are. But I had not recognised the extent to which I have been doing this with my children, because their losses seem so slight, so trivial when I hold them up against the stark losses in the world. I see now that I’ve been getting everything the wrong way round: I’ve been comparing the children’s worries to the world’s, instead of the world’s worries to theirs, instead of recognising that they hold some wisdom that I and the world need now. Ours is the age in which it is clear that we have made some cataclysmic mistakes, that we keep making them, that we are a generation of losers and those that come after us will inherit a whole lot of loss. There is no way round it. We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. A global pandemic. Racial injustice. Climate change. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it! This means weeping for weeks. Howling for months. Raging for years. But doing so consciously and creatively. When my children do this, I think they are rehearsing themselves, rehearsing me. This is not about being hopeless. I believe that going through it, with full feeling and ceremony, is the most hopeful thing we can do – the thing that will earn us feathers. Maybe we can weep enough to change ourselves, a metamorphosis as marvellous as that of a Greek god.

           To go through it, there are some things we are going to need. Two of these things are the stuff of the gods: care and creation, or, to use other words, mothering and making. In all myths, in all traditions, this is what the gods do- they make stuff and they look after stuff. The two go together: we look after things because we made them, and we make things because we care. Arguably ‘Mothers Who Make’ is a terrible tautology, and caring and creating may even be the same – they both involve a kind of holding. When the chick died, I had to hold my son while he tried to hit me. Later I had to hold a ritual with him. At a time when all the theatres are closed, it seems to me, we need theatre more than ever. Be it online or outdoors, we need to build symbolic fires, stages to hold our grief, our rage, our fear, our hope. We need to perform these things- it is what will get us through. Secret creations and collaborations got people through the concentration camps. The late and legendary civil rights activist John Lewis said: “If it hadn’t been for music, the civil rights movement would have been like a bird without wings.” Art is not a luxury, a nice diversion – it is the way through, not round.

           So, what will I do next time my daughter falls over, or my son messes up his drawing? I hope I will pause and consider this: maybe there is a point to crying over spilt milk. Maybe next time it spills we will weep the same weight in tears as the milk that is pooling, white, across the kitchen table. Maybe we will lie in it, mop it up with our clothes, then run outside and do a dance to the milk gods, to celebrate the milk and say sorry for its loss, and then we will run to the river, dive in, wash our clothes and ourselves, while we sing a song of cleansing, and then we will walk back, dripping new. I am playing with this so as to bring it home to myself, so that when the next rejection, mistake, failure, loss befalls me or the children, I have the courage not to mop it up too fast. Instead of my teaching them to lose with acceptance, I hope that we may discover together how to lose with passion and imagination.

           So, here are my questions for you for the month of August (coming to you at the end of July): Tell me about your rejections, your failures, your losses- your own? your children’s? What do you do when loss comes? Do you weep? or rage? or both? Can you do so more, as if you were inside a Greek myth, do so consciously? And what ritual, ceremony or creative act can you perform to get you through it? What can you do to earn your feathers?

[donnnoir]

Dallas, TX                                                                          June 30, 2019

Well Friend’s, although currently I suspect there are no readers of my crude blog.  Other than those that may have an interest from the Shadow Government’s perspective.  They always keep tabs and monitor my actions and interactions at large or singular.  An annoying fact of Life as me.  So hopefully at some point and time in the future an interested party will have numerous pages to sort through.  I am trying to get all my material under one or two roofs / forums which can and are accessible to everyone.  At least that is my hope and the intention of all this.  Granted it also allows me an outlet to vent some of my frustrations and the various events, occurrences and histories with this and more that I have Lived and experienced throughout my Life.  Now in such a spirit I am posting a electronic log entries after I arrived back in Austin TX, following the events I experienced in Southern California.  Which events culminated in my being shot twice in my left leg and subsequently ran over by an F-350 dually pick-up, running me over from toes to my head being dragged under the dual tires on the driver’s side of the vehicle.  Needless to say it was an interesting evening.  I was run over on East Anaheim St. about one hundred feet from the intersection with North Henry Ford Ave., on the south bound side of East Anaheim heading back toward Long Beach, I believe the location is still in Wilmington. With the location of my being shot some distance from there and that being approximately 325 North Lecouvreur Ave., Wilmington.  These events happened on or around the 5th of March 2018.  I was transported to St Mary’s Hospital at 1050 Linden Ave. Long Beach, CA..

The following are a series of electronic entries to an ad hoc journal at the time.  I Post this ad hoc journal in its raw form, the only editing being for the most part that of correcting some of the major spelling mistakes.  Hopefully I  have retained the jagged nature of my mind set at the time.  I freely admit that upon my return from California for the first time in my life I was showing signs of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   I still have on occasions bouts associated to this PTSD.  I trust as coming events unfold and I have New Obstacles and Challenges to focus my attention and thereby forestall the elements of the Disorder.  Thus I Post this warts and all.  Without regard to its chronological or content of order. Because of this I will no doubt be covering much of the data, information and stories at a later Posting.  I will also be Posting the images of my hand written journal, as the loose leaf entries that I have adopted as my handwritten format.  Since every log or journal I have started has been stolen repeatedly.  So I now write on whatever loose leaf papers I have before me in the moment.  I hope to Post those as packaged folders Postings in their chronological order.  There is a degree of overlapping entries between this Posting and those of my handwritten entries.  Bear that in mind should you actually elect to read all of these.  Most of the entries some date and location headers.   I hope that in doing this that no seeming contradictions arise, especially since I am the source.  I welcome any inquires from any reader of my material.  Thus I submit the following:

Welcome, seems it has come to this. I am going to attempt to compose my thoughts and histories via electronic medium. My reservations must give way to practical realities. Not to mention the fact that each and every one of my previous logs / journals has been stolen from me. A immensely annoying recurring theme.

Thus I am going to try and make a virtual journal. Presumably I will augment this with the additional paper journal. Which will then be uploaded into a file of images. The hope being the combination will effectively accomplish the task. Towit that of providing a record of my life including events in the extreme. Additionally I wish to leave behind in some convoluted fashion my diverse understanding of things. By far I would consider the latter to be a far greater contribution to the brain wealth of humanity. I would like to think that should any of this writing come to light. It does so some time in the future . When the more fantastic elements can be seen in historical context. Such that what would otherwise be seen as speculative ventures into science fiction writing, will be known as simply fact. Because believe me when I say I truly wish and hope to be / will be wrong, regarding that which is to come. For a change!

Sigh… I must take a break, now. Necessity requires I consider many issues, not the least of which is where to start, and how best to proceed. Besides the fact I have not developed the requisite manual dexterity to type with my thumbs.

Monday July 2, 2018 … Killeen Texas

Sigh… damnit all to hell! I am having one of those rare days when I feel anxious, overwhelmed to the point of feeling trapped. I do not know if it is possibly PTSD related. I suppose I have to accept that as a issue with in me from now till the day I die. Regrettable not to mention humiliating for me. Granted, I suspect that the the cannabis Jade bought had a little something extra in it. So she could anesthesias more effectively giving her a reprieve from the increased infra-sound, ultrasound, microwave along with the entirety of the electromagnetic emissions I am at present enduring. I am concerned for her and her son Joey's well being. Despite her being one of the girls / operatives / victims of our government’s illegal covert initiatives know as MK Ultra. She is a bundle of contradictory issues and personalities. Your typical Golem. Her biological father is Warren Causey. He was George Bush Sr. right hand even prior to Sr becoming head of the Central Intelligence Agency. Causey was Sr's go to man for wet works and deep black bag operations. Especially if the back side had a tail which could be exploited for control of any or all parties involved. Causey is a true satanist and worse. He recently developed a rapid onset of Alzheimer’s. Not quite as sever as my own father and name sake Donald Paul Williams. But the timing of both though separate is suggestively coincidentally to events associated to me and those involved in FOXing me. I suspect brother Magnus of being petty. Grinding and hammering on old grudges. Along with becomingly increasingly punitive in operational objectives concerning breaking me to the point of my “losing” it. At which point and time my only anticipated options would be to appeal to their overview and / or full capitulation to their agendas. Thus far I have successfully thwarted their attempts. Yet it has come at an immense cost to me, across the board. Okay in anticipation that I may never acquire the journal I started last year upon my departure from Long Beach, California. A long walk beginning by The Queen Mary and which ultimately landed me in Salt Lake City, Utah. It is becoming increasingly incumbent that I reiterate elements I previously wrote down back then. You would think it would be a simple straightforward process. Naturally such is not the case, for a variety of reasons. Not the least of which are context and my desire to avoid sounding narcissistic, or worse disillusion. Yet failing to do so will ultimately end in me portraying myself as such, even more so. Besides I really hate repeating myself, sorta a pet peeve of mine.

To the uninitiated this is going to sound ludicrous and insane. However, any comprehensive primer would require volumes of esoteric information, along with accompanying commentary and should include appropriate citations. All from tomes that are closely guarded. That I am denied access to permanently and utterly. Thus it is best to proceed directly into the matter wading through the initial convolution, realizing by degrees it will work out becoming about as clear as mudd. The luciferains according to their Canon refer to me as “The Dark One”. It is an appellation pulled directly from their actual scripture as initially iterated  to Cain from lucifer, himself.

Obviously atheist may take exception to these concepts, especially the language used. There is not much I can say in response to their misgivings. Because their beliefs lack the framework from which to attach this model. Hell most individuals beliefs also in like fashion lack similar mental framework. Yet most have allowances or the tools where with the modular architecture of their minds are able to “build out” an additional wing to the mansion in their minds which houses their understanding of “reality”. At the very least they can entertain the blueprints to an “add-on” to their mansions. Similar to the operations of our minds “cognitive consistency”. Dr Richard Alan Miller is fond of noting “I would never have seen it if I hadn’t believed it”. Or by extended reference the belief that if you have enough information to postulate a coherent question, you already have enough to know the answer. You just have to convince yourself of it. The implications are profound. Stretching into metaphysics and the issues of faith preceding the miracle(s), and even magick! All topics I have and will continue to touch upon in my ramblings. But I go too far afield of my primary focus. Simply, I am The Dark One. This is both metaphoric and literal. For the few people whose sight allows them to to clearly see into the underlying spiritual realm of our world. Because all things that “are” where first created in spirit. Elsewise they would not exist or remain lifeless sterile elemental at best. There are also at worst case possibilities, but we will forego any such dialogue for the moment. Everything we see and interact with has a corresponding spiritual aspect providing impetus to the whole. Usually the spiritual aspect even resembles the physical expression, although at times the proportions differ. A fact that I know I will touch upon in other areas as topically necessitated. Nonetheless if one was to see our spirits they much resemble the physical form of our bodies, though a bit taller (note this is a foreshadowing hint, to a vastly different topic I Will Be Addressing. At times I may interject future foreshadowing hints, though sans the extensive explanations). Depending on the scope of vision applied a person may / can see many other things. For my current model I am going to stick to issues of direct correlation to what we perceive as the physical world.

Okay, yes I do know I tend to take a long round about, seemingly loquacious manner, almost tediously so in my explanations. This is due to the fact that words are nebulous, our ability to effectively communicate was fractured becoming compromised long ago. As a consequence, for clarity's sake I find this too wordy manner necessary to minimize confusion later in the discussion. By degrees we lose our way, or perpetuate our lost condition. Therefore it is by incremental degrees I am trying to more properly realign the various skewed beliefs we all hold. It is simple geometry, trigonometry or if you prefer vector math. If your initial bearing line is off by a few degrees, as you proceed further down its vector, or direction of travel where you end up will be considerably different than you meant to be. I wish to be aptly clear as to this fact early in my shared discourses.

Back to the proximate relationship of the spirit to our physical nature / condition. Also know that our spirits are gender specific. The entirety of humanity in this expressed Creation, the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. Have migrated to this plane and place from Our Heavenly Home. That being a higher plane of existence, a organized realm of Love and Light. We, being all of us from Adam, Lilithe, and Eve till the last child of Eve is born, we are they that kept our first estate. Thereby earning both our right and place to be born here in this that by our common assent / consent / agreement we agreed would be real, thus we call it reality, simple. Wherefore, this being real by our mutual assent, means by extension that our actions here shall have real consequence to our station thereby effecting our progression. Those within Our Divine Family that rebelled and failing to reconcile back into the Family are denied participation in the progression of this estate and the subsequent assignments as to which paths we are to be assigned to in our individual journeys to progress back home.  Meaning, i.e. lucifer and the one third that fell (more properly “that were cast down”) with him. At times I will refer to lucifer as lucy or louie a small affectation I have over the years grown fond of as pet names for he who would seek dominion through his lies. Know that for my part I have always viewed our existence as an ongoing extension of the war in Heaven. Even as a toddler this was simply the nature of the world, in both a literal and metaphoric sense. Lucy is playing an end game gambit. As to our day to day offenses he for the most part cares little, seldom choosing to involve himself.  As I try to tell people; we can do bad all on our own, we don’t need the devil or louie's help. Matter of fact regrettably this particular Creation is an aberration. Most Creation’s do not have a Lucifer, who refuses to repent and reconcile, and worse yet becomes Satanish.  In so doing thereby becomes completely nonredeemable. Fit only to be cast out beyond the dark realms / dimensions. So far that not even a god could ever hope to make it back to Our Heavenly Home. Heady fanciful stuff, with a touch of discordance due to conflicting superlatives, I already know. From the presumed position of our understanding as a whole it is the best I can do with our shared mythos. The presumed contradictions fade as our understanding increases. Please accept I know little, next to nothing. What little I may grasp, has been fought hard to obtain over a tumultuous lifetime.

One of the hopeful eventualities concerning our collective situation in this Creation which I try to communicate to those that appear to show potential for understanding the following idea. Is that, Once we “eventually” progress through this Creation. As our then on going progression continues through multiple future Creations we will in all probability never encounter another such circumstance / Creation wherein any of those will again be with the added burden of a Satan / Lucifer persona to add complications to our individual, group, and familial progress. Who would threaten to usurp Creation from G-d and all of us. We can do bad all on our own. We really don’t require an objective excuse or archetype on which to pin our failings. If you are acquainted with the Book of Revelations, in its pages are the clues to understanding Lucy’s actual focus / agenda for our Creation. For we are eternal beings, Children of Divine Parentage. We live through infinite eternities, progressing and striving to Perfect Ourselves unto the Image of Our Heavenly Mother and Father. Now I sound like a some traveling revivalist preacher. Might as roll out the tent and tambourines, hahaha.

Wednesday July 4, 2018 – Killeen, Texas

Well happy 4th of July, U S of fucking A. Not to be cynical, but here we are celebrating another Independence Day in the Land of the Free. The irony is inescapable. Sadly too many individuals become distracted and lost in the perpetually shifting landscape of dysinformation. Yes the horrors these people revile against are very real and indefensible. Except in the losing of perspective, failing to see that these innumerable struggles are purposely being generated to engage the population to distraction. Usually these horrid distractions are set cross ways of social and cultural lines. This formulaic tactic is meant to ferment hostilities, hate and conflicts across the associated strata. This has been repeated throughout history to create wars, fracture our social structure, warp our values, and indoctrinate the population en mass with beliefs such as to reshape our view of reality shackling all of us to a diminished image and sense of self along with the entire human race. Once we accept this warped view as the archetypal potentiality of us all. We are guaranteed to sell ourselves and our brethren into slavery. In due course I will be discussing at length the geopolitical history within the framework of our limited knowledge of what we recorded since the flood. Rather what we have been permitted to know of said records. The fact that much as been redacted from the common brain trust passed on to us via academia. Those alabaster halls occupied by self appointed guardians of the approved versions of knowledge and information released to us vulgar unfortunate masses. So burdened, I shall pass this Holiday celebrating the antithesis of its traditions.

Continuing in the same vain as previously began prior to the day’s celebrations, in much the similarly convoluted fashion as before… I, The Dark One of Occultic Lore. I have been told; that I have done things no one in the history of the world has ever done previously. Personally I can only cite one quality as being demonstrative of such high praise. Though in all honesty I am more often than not being chastised for lacking focus, being lazy, acting the fool in the face of my enemies, or being cavalier in my affections, or placing myself at undue risk of life and limb, and the list goes on and on ad nauseaium.  This from the select few who know and understand who and what I am.  Those who may actually care about me, and would see me fulfill that which I have been foreordained to do whilst sojourning here. The totality of our circumstance here, now at this moment, we soon shall enter perhaps the most critical and precarious point of our history and that of this Creation.  I am all too well aware of this along with that which shall soon come to pass shortly.  This awareness, I experience across multiple vectors while being cognizant of a sea of permeations which ultimately stream toward a specific Crux in Our Familial Aggregation (I am trying to develop appropriate nomenclature – wherein I avoid certain more readily common labels or descriptors and/or appellations. Whose usage has been subverted into the double speak practiced by the various satanic and blood occultic families which run the world. Who have ritually (via trauma) conditioned and indoctrinated their acolytes, golems / victims to hear and respond to accordingly, never in a positive manner. Wherefore it is incumbent upon me whenever possible to avoid affirming these, even to the point of reinventing the ascribed nomenclature.) within this Creation. As a consequence I must stumble through idiomatic constructs, ungainly though they be. Believe me if you knew and understood the actualities ascribed to words and the double or multiple meanings applied to them within the Families. The evils, the pain, the denigration of the individuals / victims usually by those nearest them; ultimately by extension it eventually infects and corrupts societies unto the world at large.  You would weep an endless river of tears unto filling the seas, if you could see this in your minds eye properly.  As long as this perniciously malicious spiritual / familial / multi-generational / social / cultural pathogenic practice continues, our struggles will end in naught. Hence into this morass I must seek to keep my appointed task. How best to explain this? I have spent the majority of my life in the haze of denial.  Avoiding my differences.  Putting off my preparations for that which is to come.

Since approximately twenty four plus months prior to Operation Jade Helm our covert Intelligence apparati, including elements of the ruling shadow government began a concerted effort at Foxing me. The on set of Operation Jade Helm and its scope marked an exponential increase in expanded efforts against me.  Now, let me make clear Operation Jade Helm’s purpose was not solely to target me, there where many targets across the greater portion of the United States of America.  Death dealers and various squads of assassins executed / murdered an increasing number of American Citizens, most had been identified for some time to be exterminated.  Impunity seems to have become the operational by word.  The extremes demonstrated continuously since that time defy all reason. Defining the architects of this action as being criminals is almost quaint.  This level of criminal insanity goes beyond the point of being treasonous. With the majority of resource allocation comes from “military Intelligence” which then utilizes other military resources and supplies.  Thus it is that we have been duped into financing our own demise.

For purposes pursuant to their agendas, they have labeled me a domestic terrorist.  Thereby presumably justifying illegal exercises and persecution of my person.  Rationalizing by extension similar acts against my family and anyone I may care about and or Love. Death for them would be preferable to the horrors their personages have been and are being subjected. I know I sound ludicrously paranoid with delusions of grandeur in the extreme. Hahaha….  gosh how I wish, hope and pray such were the case. I make this record in defense of myself and my actions. Naturally I fear all my good intentions with their accompanying actions are for naught. I realize that upon my death as allotted to the sons of man, as to the first part, my character will be maligned in the worst manner possible.  A issue I will address at length later in this on going exposition of myself and my misadventures as they may be.

Thursday July 5, 2018.  Killeen Texas

Despite my misgivings it seems I survived all the pops and bangs of our nosiest of American Holidays. A joyous circumstance to be certain. From now till my last day of my allotted life as unto the children of men, my life hangs in the balance. The ante to live my life as it were.

My current accommodation over the past almost six weeks has been with an old flame and friend Jade Causey – Chamlee, and her 18 year old son Joey, whose given name was Freddie. Bless their souls for extending to my worn out arse a place to stay and recover. Regrettably my physical recovery is taking much longer than I anticipated. I am fully aware my expectations regarding the time necessary for a complete recovery was / were unreasonable. But I need to set the bar high to keep from being complacent. Now had my situation been inclusive of adequate financial resources I would be at least relatively close to my timetable. I would have had access to better medical, dietary, living and therapies. Hell my injuries would have been properly tended to at the hospital in my initial admittance. Instead I continued to be the object of curiosity and experimentation. With little consideration to trying to give me appropriate medical care. I have come to know what to expect, due largely to my younger brother's general attitude. Wherein he rationalizing what him and others do to me, as simply a matter of effect associated to the who and what I am. It is rationalized that if  I, Donn am this special chosen person than he/I should be able to survive everything, whatever it may be.  Because if he/I don’t than obviously he/I am not that special and thus not protected from on High.  Horrific logic used to rationalizing a growing list of atrocities committed against my person. A ugly fact of my reality, one I anticipated. What issues make this whole fucked up process unacceptable, malicious, acutely painful and unforgivingly egress is the manner by which they have targeted and used others. Especially my younger brother, father, son, Tiffany, Revaka, Heather, Angie and numerous others. They have been tortured, abused and treated as disposable commodities. All are scared and precious, some are very unique with abilities reaching into arenas not generally accepted or understood in today’s world view. Yet these individuals are denigrated, abused in some of the most deviantly sordid manners. Most are ultimately destroyed, first robbing them of their minds, bodies and in some final insult of their very souls. As it appears that they are being harvested for physical vehicles to have demons placed in their bodies. Yeah, I suppose I could say it in some sort of more politically correct parlance as “aliens” from a lower resonating dimensional reality / realm. Somehow I find that by doing so it fails to communicate the malicious evil inherent in the process. I find the old nomenclature to communicate the Truer meaning. Though some eras of our past carry their own obvious failings magnified exponentially by ignorance while fueled by misguided zealotry. They were not called the Dark Ages for nothing. Similarly different cultures, societies, periods, places and times have fallen to various abysses of Darkness. We have this false mental image of life on Our Earth proceeding in some linar fashion from primitive man (including Adam, for those of a theological inclination) struggling out of caves. Fighting against their own primitive brain / mind which was trapped in a diminished brain pan capacity from questing for fire against ignorance and superstitions. With us being the cumulative beneficiaries of this on going process. Peoples of those ancient times could not have been as intelligent as those today. Therefore they could not have grasped the concepts we do. Some of the most ridiculous fallacies of logic ever presumed to rationalizing and justify conduct or beliefs. Matter of fact the inverse is actually True. But what the fuck could I possibly know!

Sadly my frustrations are rearing their collective heads as it were in my writing. I wish I had been more diligent in securing my journal I started last year upon my departure from Long Beach towards Utah. I was more focused recording relavent issues in a contemporaneous fashion. Not to mention a considerable investment in explanations dealing with a variety of associated topics. Grrrrr… all I did then was walk and write. I may soon be in a recurrence of such, shortly. I can no longer abide where I am. All the more so under these conditions. Deep in my mind I am aware of happenings which require my attention. Not to mention my friend’s household is not psychologically conducive to my state of being. At least not in a healthy way, good intentions not with standing. My largest obstacle to my leaving believe it or not, is my need for acceptable footwear. Flip-flops aren’t going to cut it. Hell they are wholly inadequate to even walk just up the street a block or two. I must admit the sidewalks and streets of California were well suited for walking.

Monday July 9, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

As Pooh would be apt to say, “Oh bother”. I feel for the most part Tigger. Bouncing all about spinning, twisting, flipping… as well on my head as my tail. I am most acutely wanting to find my focus once again. My communication skills seem heavily compromised. Not that I was ever able to write as effectively as the great Nobel Laureates. Generally speaking I could at least maintain some linear cohesion in my writing.  Physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally I am shaken.  Much as if my being was trapped in the tremors of advance Parkinson’s. In similar fashion my expressed thoughts and experiences lack focus, my abilities at lucidly articulating my larger life occurrences is choppy at best. Failure is NOT an option! No matter how I feel or how events are or may effect me, I must regain my composure and find my center. While reacquiring my skills of teaching and sharing what I have learned.  Please excuse me if I don’t edit the foregoing entries. As convoluted and murky as they may be, their relevance contemporaneously can not be diminished. Hopefully they will in due course provide a benchmark to juxtaposition future writings and notes thereby effecting a glimpse into my state of being at the time of writing.  Grrrrr…….

They have done a very good job of isolating me. All the more so, as I try to come to terms with the potential cost to those I would seek commerce with across all levels of our socioeconomic strata.  If what I endured while being the object of a Foxing protocol by our shadow government’s covert intelligence community are any indication. Anyone who associates with me, either at mine or their initiation is subject to become targeted for retribution as punishment to me. Too high a cost to blindly impart with out consideration to finding possible means of mitigation. Or at the very least terms whereby I am ultra selective with whom I interact. Along with the rationale for said interactions. Soon enough our social dependency will require I abandon all such pretext or attempts at shielding anyone from consequence. I fear that time shall be upon us/me far too soon. Perhaps I am again being exceedingly naive. My efforts are most probably for naught. An on the at large canvas of the bigger picture my presumption at damage control will only result in a larger area and impact of effect upon our society as a whole. Not that I am some savior or prophet, far from it actually. In the grander scale of things, I might best be referred to as a “wild card”.  Meaning that in any analysis of the interaction of variables, one may with a degree of certainty predict the outcome of any issue, contest, conflict even war. However should certain individuals or a very small dynamic group of individuals enter the forum. Suddenly the landscape of the matter shifts radically to the point that the original outcome no longer applies or is meaningful. We have numerous examples of such occurrences throughout our histories. Of salient import to us here in America is The Battle of Thermopylae, and the 300 Spartans. We all learned about continents in school. Did you ever notice that Europe and Asia were counted as separate despite being one land mass. The reason is that Western Culture and Asian (Oriental) Cultures being vastly different it was traditionally ascribed to them being two separate continents. We may naively presume to ridicule such a blatant indulgence as arrogance. Yet there are fundamental reasons for this error being valid. We as the heirs of Western Culture, need to understand the mythical / legendary impact of these distinctions upon our mameic memory, especially those of us of the West. From Greece to Rome, then following our Angelo – Dutch (Iberian) roots it is transmitted to us. The importance and permanent impact of the actions and sacrifice of Leonidas and 300 Free Spartans against over a 1,000,000 servile basically slaves to a potentate deemed quasi divine, carved out a legacy of Freedom which stands even today. An Epic “wild card”. There are many others, most are lost to us today. With the occasional exception that survives in our Epics, our Mythologies, our Legends. Most such stories are the blending of factual events with older religious or semi religious traditions. Which aliteration was a common and accepted means of teaching the lessons of both convanents in a factual and metaphoric means. Much the way Jesus Christ taught using parables, allegories composed to have layers of meaning dependent upon the degree of understanding had by the student. So a natural continuation of this is to be inclusive of many historical events, along with the trans literal substitution of the individuals to those of prophecy or the the Divine or Angelic intercession of some ancient history. These depending on circumstance would be iterated and reiterated in verbal traditions to be celebrated in the retelling, usually in association to particular annual festivals. Such as the case with the Saga of the Norse Kings. A subject I hope to have the opportunity to entertain at length later in my writings, scribblings. The vast majority of my ideas, concepts, models and histories can generally be attributed to greater minds than mine. As has been said before, the reason I / we can see so far is that we stand on the shoulders of giants, those that have come before us. Yes I paraphrase taking a degree of liberty. More particularly to hopefully retain its original meaning.

Funny I have been much as I am, the entirety of my life. Before I commence an in-depth sharing of many of the somewhat unique occurrences and events that have brought me to this proposition in time. I wish to clarify and reiterate some postulates. Elsewise a portion of my own records and logs may well be used against me. Principally by interests who would wish to call my lucidity and grasp of reality into question, in the hopes of indicting or coloring my character via my words. No doubt they shall do so nonetheless. I only wish that my original is sufficiently vetted in the sane understanding of reality has to be a defense to my honor and mental facilities. Thus, again – I am No prophet! Nor am I an Alien. Hahaha… Nor am I some savior! As far as religion – I will say as was told to me by what would be termed alien contactees, or more specifically those that I felt and believed we’re genuine. Of the many I personally met back in the 1970s. According to these individuals as to the subject of religion and the Bible when broached to the various aliens these contactees interacted. All the aliens responded that yes the Bible was more or less correct and that it was wholly applicable to us, our Creation, and Our G-d. I know not at all what they say on the popular shows in the media today. Hmmm,…. As to my personal religious beliefs and inclinations, I am Mormon by conversation and have been excommunicated for many more years than I care to mention. By the way my excommunication was due wholly to personal moral matters not issues of doctrine or beliefs of Faith. So if somewhere in my upfront acknowledgements, you find me wanting of naïve. Fine, do or do Not as is in you, or as is your want. I make no apologies, nor seek to compromise in some misguided attempt to achieve an accord or consensus. Rather quite to the contrary, I share, present, seeking dialogue broader than an account of the happenings surrounding my life. Simply because I am appalled by the amount of lies and disinformation being used to indoctrinate the populace. Add to this the lack of corrected and broader views from the dreadfully homogenous perspective droning from damn near every sector. The present modalities disgust me, breaking my heart such that I would to weep day and night for Our collective Family. Yet better spent are my efforts in defense of the Truth and an improved accounting of our histories and circumstances. In pursuit of same I find I must submit my private life and experiences to general scrutiny. The majority of which I have never shared with anyone prior to the last six to eight years. I have desired to live a rather conventional life, for the most part. Realizing that soon enough I will forever be denied the Joy of such.

To this end and the accompanying process I submit some of the earliest memories and events of my life and childhood. One of my earliest, if not the earliest is being in my crib prior to the age of two. My father was working for numerous government and governmental contractors at the time. Naturally I don’t recall those details. Our family had just moved to Southern California. We were living with my mother’s sister somewhere in East Los Angeles. Their home was the typical Spanish Colonial. Anyone familiar with the style and form of such. Know that hallways usually converge into a common room, you cross to the hallway leading to the room you have as your destination. In this pass through common room is where my crib was stationed. Probably the best location for it and me. So the various women could occupy my attention should I become fussy. An many times this common room was an area where the women would congregate as my recollection is. Well across this room was a pantry closet, with selves and full of the sundry items found in such for the time. In the coming and goings of my family and relatives there were numerous occasions that would find me unattended, alone in my crib. It was during one such interlude that the commencement of a reoccurring vision / dream began. I having been left alone to my own devices (parenting back in the day). When the door to the aforementioned pantry slowly opened wide. A beautiful female Golem, her physique had the appearance of red bricks. Yet the contours of her form were singularly female. Rather she had distinct curves with aquiline sculptured features. Most hauntingly she had these striking blue eyes. She never spoke a word, her eyes spoke volumes to my initially shocked mind. As the sounds of returning relatives approached, she gracefully returned from whence she came. On the first couple of occasions I witnessed this I raised a bit of a commotion. I was not yet verbal, and in all honesty I was a late talker. Well the relatives thought I might have seen a rat. So they dutifully opened the pantry to inspection. The pantry was then as it always was, with neither a rat or exquisite Lady Golem. This parade continued off and on for the majority of the our short time residing at my aunt’s house. Usually the Lady Golem had those blue blue eyes, though green and grey versions are among the visits. Each and every time she would come to the side of my crib, moving her head, or tilting (cocking) it just so. Always her eyes full of questions and disbelief. Her eyes seemed to express; You? You are the one sent? Hmmm… You don’t look like much! Look more like a little wet rodent, but who knows?. This was more or less the sentiment expressed in her eyes. Following my first encounters I became accustomed to her visits and would actually miss her on the rare occasions of absence. Needless to say from early childhood I saw the “world” differently than others around me. I also learned to accept this altered perception without fear, understanding its validity within the accepted context of what is “actual” or the “concrete” reality of our existence.

If you may recall back in the haze of school days. During various lectures the teacher's would sometimes use what is commonly referred to as an over head projector. Depending on what was being taught, it was also common practice to layer over lays. These would either complete the image or at times super impose other images as needed. Sometimes even as multiple layers of over laid transparencies. Some of you more contemporaneously educated individuals may never have seen such primitive presentations, having known only power point. For those so blessed what I describe next may be Greek to you. For the dinosaur amongst us most should have some recollection. This model is the closest I can use to illustrate how the world appeared to me growing up as a child. Usually I would see what could best be described as up to two transparencies overlapping the “real world” in general. I could even lift these overlays to get a clearer view of what was being presented before me. At times these would both be at in the foreground of “reality”, other times both would be in the background, while at other times it would be split one in front and one in back. Yet there were numerous other configurations, sometimes completely unrelated to the happenings around me (foreshadowing alert). Gradually this ocular affect of the world began to diminish till it no longer was within my field of vision. By the time I was around sixteen to seventeen years of age this effect was effectively gone. Since then I have experienced this only a handful of times. I usually take a different approach, I will address momentarily. One of the proximate results almost immediately of perceiving my world in this manner is that I usually know the scope and degree that anyone is lying. As an adult it is not quite as prominent as in my childhood. Though there have been exceptions. As a direct consequence my earliest life lesson was in due course the hypocrisy of the adults around me. Everyone would profess such devotion to “the necessity” or importance of always “speaking the Truth”. Yet I would be punished to no end for pointing out the hypocrisy of the fact the adults more often than not lied as suited them. I learned to keep such to myself. Something I still do to this day. I tend to filter or make allowances far too much now as an adult. Invariably leading to greater complications. Besides transparencies certain images or objects would “float” across my field of vision in similar transparency manner. Some of which I could not decipher any context or meaning at the time or since. To begin to place elements of this visual experience I need to explain tangent events of recent.

The advent of the Internet and the information highway is as with most such paradigms, both a blessing and a curse. Dependent largely upon the nature and supposed inclination of man. We are all no doubt familiar with the media platforms of Facebook and YouTube. Like everyone else to some degree I have had occasion to surf around doing research or simply for mindless pleasure. Back prior to Jade Helm, when my Old Lady (though she was substantially younger) Tiffany and I were keeping house in Austin, Texas. I noticed a YouTube video regarding the Apollo 20 mission. Oh by the way according to my histories the Apollo lunar missions went up to 20. I wanted to see what was been discussed along with what twists and turns the disinformation specialist spin their distractions. Which if you can determine it sometimes conclude what they are trying to hide or if their direction of spin is a “z” vector you can sight 180 degrees opposite to determine the landscape they don’t wish you to see. You may consider all this a large investment of mental energies, it is just how my mind works at times automatically. Back to the Apollo 20 video. In the video there was some general discussion of aliens, their nature and origins. During this open dialogue, there was a series of various old clips. I presume were some how removed from the archives of NASA. Many of the older non-defined clips I was quite familiar with the images. Not because I have ever seen them as photos, images, clips or video. At the time I was floored, since previous to that moment I was unacquainted with their context or related meaning. These objects I use to see in the exact same configuration and involved in the exact motions approximately forty years earlier as I was growing up. Matter of fact judging from the age of the imagery I would have to conclude I was witnessing them contemporaneously as a child. Without the context of outer space or NASA I had presumed I was watching some complex interactions of some sort of strange protozoal life from. I even remotely as concerned they had some how become infected to my cornea, so prevalent we’re the objects across my vision. So striking was their imposition upon my sight that more than four decades later their association was immediate and most assuredly certain. One less mystery to worry about. Yet the implications are troubling profoundly. Both of myself and the world at large, considering how maliciously the world's population has been lied to and manipulated. The ends of which are too shocking and horrible to ever discuss. Although in previous conversations at moments of weakness I have divulged a greater portion than may have been prudent.

Wednesday July 11, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

You may right so wish to ascribe or diagnosis me as having a form of delusions inclusive of all types of hysteria, grandeur, psychosis with severe religious obsessions. For what passes for psychiatry today within the public ledger domain, you may be correct. I would offer in defense a extensive lifetime containing a ongoing accounts of a similar or even greater note. Although I am not a Moses, peoples of another time would recognize me as being touched by The All Mighty, as it were. I will at least own any such appellation. Am I some righteous man deserving of beautification unto sainthood, I would argue Not. At best I have tried to be a descent man, who speaks the Truth as much as possible. I am burdened by an additional commitment.

Back in my youth, being around nine years old. I had a singularly profound series of visions / dreams. I repeatedly dreamt my death, accompanied by the various permeations associated to reaching same. The process took several days (nights) between three to five. Being so young I didn’t think to take particular note of the days my dreams were thus occupied. They obviously had a unique feel with a equally sensational intensity, they still abide with me today. I distinctly recall a voice of sorts coming to me following the last night of witnessing this panorama of my life's end (as are the days accorded to the sons of man). Now this voice which came unto me, I presume it was within the precincts of my mind. Not that it would have mattered greatly since I was alone when it came unto me. Nor did I think to ask from whence or whom spoke. I knew and could feel the light of our Divine Home as I heard the intent along with the presumed words. It was a simple dialogue, stating; “this is how it ends, this is what you have come to do. You need not do it. You have the right to choose. However if you are to complete this task. You must choose to do so now.”. Being a precocious and arrogant child, I immediately presumed that if I had been sent to do such, than the obvious was that I was the best candidate to accomplish the prescribed task. Armed with such infallible logic, I whole heartedly accepted my calling understanding it would come at great cost. Now granted, an understanding of the true scope or magnitude or the enormity of the cost or suffering I fully lacked. I have spent my life preparing. I have come to know that even at the prescribed time I will lack of my own what is necessary. I shall present to the task my all, trusting in Our G-d to shore me up to complete that which I would do. Subsequent to acceptance of this appointment I am to keep in the near future, my sight / vision increased. The frequency and quantity began increasing dreams, visions, revelations, transparencies along with my general perceptions increased. I now openly own the fact that I see the world through the eyes of the mystic. Only recently was my sight dampened. A heart breaking topic the occasion of which surrounds losing my Love Tiffany. The subject of which shall also be laid upon the alter for examination by the modern day augers. Find what fault if you will, I care little. Only know that matter and its accompanying are for later. I must at present attempt to continue in this established vain of thought recounting events long past in my short life. Besides the notations contemporaneous to me and my circumstances or any of the other tripe I have need to spew forth. Believe this, if I could accomplish my foreordained task without sharing, discussing or placing ultimately for public review any of this – such would be my desire. Painfully I have had to come to terms with the ugly reality I must prostrate myself to assure I am able to do what needs be done. Onward thru the fog, as it were.

Without going into specifics too much, early on I displayed another aptitude. Sometime around first to second grade. My Dear sweet mother recognized I somehow had a hand in the going ons of the other children that back then composed the group of children who had commenced to being around. Now my mother was blessed with a keen intellect. Which included the wisdom to not over think somethings. Instead wherever possible if there was a direct and simple solution to apply one's efforts to the solution. Thereby allowing life to continue on as meant. Almost elegant in its simplicity, usually quite effective in solving any problem, a quaint provincial version of Occum's Razor. Consequently the solution was simple, as she noted; “son, I don’t know what you are doing. But it is wrong. Apparently you need my help understanding that.”. There after I regularly got my hide tanned. Until sometime around the age of seven plus the realization that just because you could do something; does not mean you should. And that everyone is entitled to make their own choices. Afterwards the occasion necessitating my tanning ceased as a consequence to those particular actions. By no means did I fail to earn other occasions of corporal punishment as befits a young boy trying to find his wings, so to speak.

Growing up making my way through our education system of public schooling. I never cracked a book. Now one should not presume schools and childhood were smooth sailing. Quite to the contrary, in second grade my school in southern California labeled me “retarded”. Lacking a separate facilities or classes you were simply shoved to the back of the class with similarly challenged children. Nor did they have to test the child or give notice to the parents. Following a few weeks at the back of the class I began to demonstrate “odd” behavior. Which my always observant mother was quick to question. She went to the school and raised holy hell. In actuality it was more of a racially motivated issue. My parents being divorced, the school only saw my Hispanic mother. Being profoundly dyslexic, their initial assessment was that I was a Mexican, and you know you can not teach their kind. I was going to a all white school at time. Not to mention kindergarten in Watts. During the riots in 1965. I had to have police escorts to school. While I still have very distinct memories of the entire family sleeping in the living room with all the doors and windows blocked and barricaded against the rioting blacks. A sort of difficult time growing up. Believe me I know what racism is like. I am not going to hold my tin cup up on that lame ass subject. The fact that there are those in this country that hold onto this issues as the reasons for all their troubles. Or that there are groups and individuals who exploit this history for their enrichment. All this does is allows an ever expanding rifts in our society. The age old axiom of divide and conquer. Yet we all seem oblivious to this, instead we rush to our own deaths.

Thursday July 12, 2018,. – Killeen, Texas

Aaagh, fuck, damnit…. I fucking swear. Why do I even try to help anyone. Generally they hold to their own practices of appeasing the least common denominators by which they live. What can I say. As gracious as my hostess and her son may be. I doubt if I can tolerate much more of their dysfunctionality sans any self realization or objectivity. And they wonder about Joey meeting someone (female). I can’t imagine the woman who would find any of this manner or lack of is appealing. I try to maintain perspective because I do recognize the roots of most of the antisocial behavior. Even if it expresses its self differently than one may anticipate. I just don’t have the tolerance I usually do. In my current condition of convalescing from my injuries, makes me subject to the vagaries that define the lives of normal people. Due to the obvious singular quality of my life I have had to come to terms with the fact that I do not process anything in like manner as my peers. An before everyone thinks I am trying to sound all superior or some such, please note that I am continually making stupid mistakes principally due to my own naivety. We all have this aspect wherein we judge our circumstance and that of others from the pigeonhole perspective. Everyone else's view though differing from each other falls within a given area, or a few degrees of each other. Mine falls a extreme distance outside of what could be considered the norm. Nonetheless being very human I continue in the belief I perceive “reality” much as the other person from a similar understanding and values system. Invariably this attitude finds opportunity to smack me in my face by its differences. Each and every time I am recalled that, oh I knew better because I am fully aware of the differences and should have factored accordingly. Even now at this more venerable point in my life I find one of my biggest failings is naive belief in the character of my fellow man. Yet if my assertions as to my last day as are allotted to the sons of man be True. For the greater part I will be doing so for the entirety of Our Familial Aggregation. Even for those who seek only to cause me and those I Love and care about, harm or maliciousness. Because that is the way of things in our Creation. Soon enough the vile evil shall reveal itself, the kid gloves shall come off and life will never be this peaceful again. If it be the will of he who sent me I will seek to balance many scales of injustice. Till then I must endure and prepare as best I can.

Well enough complaining about friends who do their best given the circumstances. I appreciate all they have done on my behalf. Especially since to a large degree they grasp what potentially may be the cost. Even if in some small ways they may have been influenced by the same malicious or “Bees”, that seek to be the cause of my failure. For such is the nature of things in the abyss. Especially considering the length of time I have elected to spend wrapped in the confines of twisting throughout what we commonly refer to as “reality”. I generally feel more comfortable surrounded by its miasma and ickor than anywhere else. As much as it may appear to be a contradiction it ultimately is fact. Sigh!!!

For the time being I guess I will change the temporal focus of my entries. I can seldom stay focused on any particular time frame for an extended period. Doing so usually causes me to shift to the associated memories which become very visceral in nature. Soon it begins to become a tad overwhelming. All the more so once framed in relation to the present context. I sincerely hope that suffices and is remotely coherent. I am usually deconstructing my conceptual models and ideas into a form more acceptable to being understood. Sometimes I become lost in the process to the point I know what I mean despite the fact that the words and or syntax are nonsense. In conversation I sometimes have to stop and ask if what I have postulated or presented in the dialogue makes sense. I know it all made sense and sounded good in my head. Aaah but I can’t always presume to have effectively communicated the same.

Saturday July 14, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

Well here it is the weekend, somewhere in Who-ville are working stiffs cheering at the arrival of the ritual with its time off. It has been interminably long since I have have lived a life so constrained as to include the simple Joy of a defined weekend of days off. Hell I am usually engrossed in my vocation daily. With my ever prevalent purpose always driving me. For the most part I have become unfit to be amongst civil company. Yes I am conversant. I am genial enough when in mixed groups. I tend to empathic of those around me. I genuinely give a damn as to the well being of others. Even so, the inescapable Truth is that the darkness is too imbued into my being. Because of the darkness of my spirit, I have become rolled into the ubiquitous abyss of our “reality”. Though it does not effect me quite the same as others its taint has woven into my fibers. Not being much of a liar I lack the necessary tools to hide it from general view.

Wednesday July 18, 2018  - Killeen, Texas

Well damn, I sometimes really get fucking frustrated.  At one level I am perpetually detached from the day to day focus and obsessions of everyone around me. I can’t bring my mind to focus on the general ideological concepts propagated by the geopolitical theater. Which resembles an episode of the moppet show as far as I what it appears. Are the offenses and injuries less or non-existent to my sympathies or moral indignation; not in the least. They still represent injustices and crimes which need to be effectively dealt with and hopefully the scales will balance. Even so, I just can not seem to get all worked up over these slight daily travesties. All the more so since I tend to view all these for what they are within the larger perspectives and plans of globalist / occultic families. Typical divide and conquer, or simple distractions from their primary objectives. I can appreciate everyone’s sentiments and attitudes that the scenarios of what is to come are not perceived as real or likely. Hell even I given enough distance and time begin to feel as though none of it is possibly factual. Except for the fact that I have lived a life associated to these eventualities. Even when I was in the thick of things all those involved would tell me bold faced lies as to what was occurring. As if to make me question the obvious, because the obvious Truth of the matter was outside any social norms. I guess there are those for a convenient lie is preferred to Truth too extreme to accept. I have been at this life, spending the majority of my existence living in the abyss. Which is everywhere, it co-exists with whatever social or cultural conventions occupying our realities of the moment.  It is ubiquitous yet invisible to all but those who have had the misfortune to have grown up in its mists, or the uninitiated. Due to my unique occular abilities I am sort of self initiated. It took me a little while to come to understand the meaning of this subset of our world. I have always seemed to rub against this sub culture, even as a child. A odd fact which has taken me many years to come to terms with it. Even then it was a process of educating myself to be able to grasp the entirety of the concepts. Though outrageous beyond belief, it is nonetheless part of a larger pool of knowledge I have fought long and hard to achieve. We are a phenomenal expression of life, even across the multiverse. For all our uniqueness, we are seemingly determined to trivialize who and what we are. More importantly the processes and manner whereby we are to accomplish our purpose “here”.  Truly phenomenal!!!

Yet I digress. I am simply getting on my soapbox, whipping the horse, so to speak. Grrrrr…

How best to convey some of the basics back into the discussions and open forums in our sea of opinions. A perplexing problem one that has vexed my soul for almost three decades. I suppose the real source of my reservations has principally revolved around my own reluctance to be centrist to any reintroduction in a general dialogue. Much to my consternation it is plain that to accomplish this and thereby facilitate me being able to keep my appointment in the future, I must find the where with all and means to personally become directly a part of our social dialogues. I can freely admit to my own megalomania. I try not to buy into it myself. I shan’t feed such feelings or Mali-adpted inclinations. What ever a person's tendencies, we fail our own interests in doing so. To the point of it becoming a all consuming psychosis. Our histories are replete with the villains who are consumed by base desires at the cost of all else. Not that such is my fear. Rather I prefer to do what I can from a position far from the limelight. We don’t always get to choose how best to accomplish our goals. My non-object oriented way of thinking I suppose. Aaagh, this is an area I would deeply desire some assistance. Not to mention the realities of presently being impoverished. I had best get used to my condition, I fear I shan’t know any other for some time to come. I guess I need to find the way and means to broadcast my ugly mug on to the internet. I guess I will start some YouTube type of series. I need to really get my act together!

Amazingly as we and our solar-system has traversed the apogee of its elliptical orbit with its sister star. This having occurred back in December 2012. We are now accelerating towards our sister star on the side closest to our Galactic Center. We will soon be re-entering the flows of Magick. They are part of the natural order of things. Think of it as a higher order of physics. We conveniently suppose a posture of superiority over some earlier more organic beliefs or systems of interactions within our realities. Although witchcraft, paganism, shamanism, and various other practices have been collectively maligned for associated practices related to satanistic practices (which Are very evil). In many such cases we have throughen the baby out with the bathwater. I am not trying to condemn nor make excuses, only to ask for a broader open review of these strangely different beliefs and practices.  Many times they are simply corrupted versions of our Judaeo-christian thought, beliefs and practices. Sometimes I even find missing pages of our religious histories amongst these. An to borrow a quote;  “We are too hasty when we set down our ancestors in the gross for fools for the monstrous inconsistencies (as they seem to us) involved in their creed of witchcraft.” - C. Lamb.

Friday July 19, 2018.  – Killeen, Texas

Now as to my disjointed quaint manner of writing, I am recalled of yet another quote from Webster’s,  “Prolix, Diffuse. A prolix writer delights in circumlocution, extended detail, and trifling particulars. A diffuse writer is fond of amplifying, and abounds in epithets, figures, illustrations. Diffuseness often arises from an exuberance of imagination; prolixity is generally connected with a want of it.” [1913 Webster].  As to which, my confused manner may be likened, I leave such determination to those who due to some pathological compulsions decide to continue on through the disjointed tediousness of my log.  Excuse my quoting, it but appears the best and most eloquent descriptive means external to my own critiques. Wherein Webster provides what I believe is a more accurate description of my loquacious manner and style of communication. Bleck, ugh…

On to more relevant matters. As I continue to play my game of catching up to the current state of affairs in my existence. Jumping back to around August last year, at the time I elected to take my leave of the Long Beach / Wilmington area of the LA Basin. The majority of occurrences I previously wrote down in a contemporaneous log as I walked out of LA ultimately reaching Salt Lake City, Utah. With a brief momentary stay in Las Vegas, Nevada. My mind aches at the memories from that time. Regardless, there may in the retelling be wisdom or beneficial information for myself or others. Sorry if some of this has a choppy feel to it. There are mountains of unresolved emotional context and histories, which continue to elicit extremes within me. I hate sounding apologetic from the get go. Not that any of the vacillating diminishes the importance of the material or what I endured.

In July of last year, my younger brother was arrested and placed in presumably Twin Towers downtown Los Angeles. It was involving drugs and a handgun. I saw him and the P.O.S. , earlier that night. I already knew there were going to be problems. Additionally I had been indirectly informed my situation was about to become difficult. No more niceness regarding my treatment, operational dictums were changed. Initially I was was acutely aware my younger brother was not in police custody. I figured he was being held some where on or around the federal facilities of Terminal Island in the Port of Long Beach. Later parts of my sight of his circumstances were confirmed to me, though the exact location never has been (foreshadowing). Sometime during the second week of his presumed incarceration. He digitally appeared in the system with the appropriate arrest date, and information. To this day I am not convinced of the terms and conditions accompanying this purely “staged” event. No doubt there were days he was in the Twin Towers facility. Anything else is highly suspect at best if not solely manipulated data for the purposes of the Op. Nonetheless, I was sorely put upon. Due to the determinate fact that whatever had previously as well as on going to date are the proximate results of his being “my brother”. I was aware my brother was not my brother. I later would describe the fact as, “my brother was murdered on the mesas of New Mexico 4 (5) years prior”. I freely declared the fact, even with my younger brother present. At the time of his arrest I had invested two years trying to awaken and heal his soul. During this ordeal, he was on goingly conditioned (subject to various satanic trauma assisted by ultra high technologies deployed by our Shadow Government for the purposes of mind control). I can not escape a degree of culpability. Many may seek succor in the belief that I was not responsible, nor the individual inflicting these horrors to my younger brother. I acknowledge the physical reality as being so. However the moral reality is that, We are our Brother's keeper. An for myself it has a immense literal quality. We are all part of Our Larger Familial Aggregation, what we do, say or do not effects all. While in my particular case, he is my younger brother – same Mother and Father. I have known what to expect from the future all my life. I have even attempted to convey this knowledge in abstract to my brothers. Granted I did Not know that in recent times the evil practitioners of these vile satanistic rites had made a huge technical breakthrough. It use to be, if an individual attained adulthood free of these practices or influences, then they would die free of its chains. Obviously a person could freely elect to cultivate any base desires or perverse inclinations. By “choice” being the operative mandate, those chained to the MPD / DID minds of victims of Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) are forever robbed of any choice in the matter. Not even I can “set” them free or the chains forged in their infancy and childhoods. I can only unlock the gates and offer them the means to heal. The process is long and painful, requiring more years than anyone can live to hopefully heal. Sadly as each victim is considered chattel to the perspective heads of each “family”, who is in turn property of another. Hence there are functionally twelve Satanic Patriarchs seated at the heads of their “family”. Under Satanic Dogma they consider themselves “gods” of their worlds. According to their beliefs you exist as titled property, if not than you are of no consequence thereby you do Not exist. The worth of you and yours is less than the trash sent to the dump.

Sunday July 22, 2018 – Killeen, Texas

Continuing with similar point of fact as discussed, it may all sound or would be considered linear, a straightforward affair. Appearing almost orderly, locked in some strange perverse dance. When it is anything but. Take into consideration the matter of succession. You might be inclined to infer that being Patriarchal, it is a matter of patrialinacal father to son. The reality is far from such Familial Sensibilities. Simply put, upon the death of the head of any household. He, who inherits is the male gains control of his clan by right of arms, or force. Basically if you are not yet feared enough to demand your seat as the heir to the estate. The one who rules does so because he has murdered and killed all the opposition by blood rite according to Antediluvian Law. Meaning you not only kill your opposition, the action is inclusive of all males of immediate consanguinal association. The wholesale murder also removes any potential blood retribution by those who possess an immediate claim to do so. Secondly it demonstrates to clan members at large the vicious response dissent will meet. Terror then substitutes conditioned context within their trauma-based mindset vicariously confirming that male's natural right to head that Family’s Branch of the Larger Familial Group. If you can remotely rationale order from such chaotic slaughter. You more than likely were raised under such paradigms, or your values are perversely twisted and I recommend you seek professional help from any school of thought practicing a highly structured value system, preferably based on some well established benevolent religion. Notice I qualify said using the word benevolent. Cause if you use the most liberal definition to the concepts of religion you could quietly slip satanism or luciferinism in as established religions. The distinctions are sufficient as to invite debate. One I feel is much a waste of time for all parties. Generally I ascribe it principally to a matter of semantics shackled to vastly differing modalities of operations defining values. Our time can be better spent educating ourselves up and out of overly cerebral arguments designed to trap us in artificial concepts posing as reality. A overwrought process favored by Academia in defense of entrenched theories dressed in the ideology we refer to as the “Scientific Model”.  Yes, I have great disdain for what passes for education and schools of higher learning. They have long since been co-oped into the problems they were meant to free us from being slaves. I will tuck that soapbox away now, thank you for your indulgence.

What is even more incredible is the fact that this insanity is governed by their own set laws and rules. They even have a court system with defined jurisprudence. Not any sort you or I could consider properly legal. Rather it is more a system to maintain the “status quo” based on traditions, precedence, along with a strange quasi religious tones from Antediluvian Laws. Even known lies are acceptable if left uncontested but those who have standing and recognized Familial context. Elsewise the stated lie will stand as fact, enforceable to the fullest extent to which the system can accommodate.

Now if you followed that loose explanation, allow me to attempt to give an overview of some of the semi-societal interactive relationship between myself and these psychopaths. Especially above the standing rank and file victims constituting the entirety of the Families. I have a singularly unique interactive connection to them, their Families, their politics, traditions, religious dogma, technologies of the Shadow Government, including possible contingencies for what is to come. It is a chaotic and confusing dynamic paradox. Perpetually in a state of change, in recent times there has been much difference of opinion concerning how to acknowledge or interact with me. Technically I am a nonentity, because I exist outside the direct consanguineous relationship, nor am I amenable to joining their point of view. I remain in opposition to them, their practices, beliefs to the extent of being fundamentally adversarial to “them”. It is worth noting I have been at this so long that everyone I know or deal with daily belongs to this subset of our society. Almost all my friends, associates, girlfriends or anyone else comes from some blood occultic families. Some even to what capacity they are able seek to support me in my efforts. I am alive today because some evil bastards simply decided not to do as they were instructed. Knowing full well the consequences for siding with me. Try to understand these individuals have lived corrupt malignant lives, they hate themselves but are forbidden to take their own lives. There is virtual nothing they can do to truly cause those over them to flip out or take offense. Yet they do recognize that my stumbling about is upsetting. Having run around everywhere doing what I do. I have always done so without a net, so to speak. It is a source of boarder line amazement, more particularly they think I am “bat-shit” crazy! Nonetheless I am still here. You may know people who collect body art, fashionably tattoos these days. I sometimes joke of my own collection of scars and injuries to my body. Thankfully I heal exceptionally well. Most of my scars heal to the point of being almost unnoticeable, if you did not know my histories. It is an exhausting hobby, painful too! A frequent refrain I hear while being admitted to the ER or ICU has been, “Mr Williams, you are very lucky to be alive”.  “Yeah Doc I hear that allot. Do the best you can.”.  It has become somewhat of a ongoing joke, amongst friends and family. These days those groups have become ultra thin. Another reason I make this record of events in my life including improved contemporaneous writings. We can all hope for such. Believe me if it was up to me, no one would know much if anything about me, or my life. I have been, or more correctly I have allowed myself to be forced into a dreadfully unpleasant set of circumstances, as I have whined concerning previously.

Okay Sherman set the way-back machine to the 80’s and 90’ of the last century. Seeing patterns across the country in the minds of crazy ass bitches, now I do Not mean that in a bad way. I have a immense affinity for beautiful crazy ladies. Now as I was saying, the imagery within their minds was too consistent to be coincidence. The language of our sub- conscience is imagery, archetypal, motifs, iconography, mythical, dreams, visions, will of the wisps and whimsy. I believe we all “see” much more of one another than we choose to accept. The largest hurdle to understanding is this compulsion to read or understand what we “see” before the picture is finished assembling in our minds. This tendency has been increasingly pushed into smaller and smaller bits. Which as a negative exponential inverse function has become more and more confusing as to be nigh meaningless with each subsequent reduction. Hence at a time when we should be more connected to everyone. We find increased feelings of isolation and alienation. No matter how much we communicate with our neighbors next door or abroad we have less consensus or feelings of commonality. We sequester these feeling with their accompanying anxieties, less we inadvertently offend anyone. Like what the Fuck! It is part and parcel of the Adult World. Being offended or offending others is how things get done. Usually for the best interests of everyone. Granted we should strive to be engaging to achieve our goals, short of violence or intimidation. Yet as any honest government would gladly concede. Once negotiations by normal means come to an impasse then comes negotiations by “other means”. The debased conduct of sordid persons is best met with our best foot forward, right up their ass! Like most animals, immediacy tends to be the most effective in correcting Mali-adpted conduct. Back to the horse I rode up on, hahaha.

At any rate, over the years I began to solve the underlying issues. I actually came to my own work arounds prior to fully grasping the centralized source or the impact of its implications. Years later I did begin to hear limited bits of information over the internet. Although it did take me a while before I started to correlate the “conspiracy theory” data with what I was “seeing” in women throughout the country.  Largely because few had any real coherent information. Eventually, information concerning Project MK Ultra and our government's Psy-Ops programs sufficiently surfaced to flesh out the details. As a child, young teenager I was familiar with the government’s LSD experiments for a variety of reasons, mind control being one aspect. Frankly I can not believe there are people today who do not know or refuse to believe that our government conducted such experimentation on the populace. It was just common knowledge in the circles I travel. If you read the Program Outline for MK Ultra it has an extensive list of lines of “study” information was to be explored, accumulated with a focus of deriving paradigms of control on individuals, groups, countries, cultures, and from that to the world at Large. The Globalist, New World Order, G-7, Trilateral Commission, Illuminati the individuals and their constantly shifting panorama of institutions and foundations are continually sifting beliefs and cultures in an multi-generational game of Three Card Molly. Degree by degree all the world’s various societies and Cultures have been manipulated via global misdirection with large quantities of restructuring of values and beliefs. Till everyone on Earth thinks good is bad; and bad is good. I should think we have all heard these arguments before, usually framed as the delusions of conspiracy theorist. All rather convenient as a means explaining away any descent or even an open fair discussion. Our social structure has drifted far from where we should be. Starting in 2020, everything is going to change and never be this pleasant or nice again. Well at least not till after the Second Coming. Hahaha, despite sounding …...

[linkspooky]

Hi Link ! Thank you ahead of time if you answer this ask, I absolutely love your metas ! Besides the actual manga & a few other TG Blogs, it's the only thing I sit down to read, so thank you ! Do you think that maybe the reason some characters are so caught up on those few moments of happiness for years is because typically, Ghouls don't live very long to begin with, & so every moment is precious ? (Granted, this doesn't apply to all the characters who do this since not everyone is a ghoul.)

Thank you! I’ll try my best to keep making enjoyable content for you to read.

That’s a good observation... V. 

It is in fact the central theme of Haise’s birthday poem. 

“Even if you have no memories of being loved, for as long as you have memories of loving someone, you can continue to live.”

…But how is someone who has never been loved be capable of loving someone else?

A child who wasn’t able to receive the minimal love they required at the time they needed it the most will continue to gaze at the illusion of affection and never know how to love until the day they die.

Well, how about me? Can I continue to live?

Translation by @makyun [x].

How is it possible for somebody with no memories of being loved to continue to live?

This poem itself is rather complementary to Furuta’s own poem which addresses the same topic but taking an actual stance, rather than simply raising the question. “I have no memories of being loved, therefore I see no value in life at all.”

How stupid.

What’s so joyous about birthdays, I wonder.Never in my life have I ever felt grateful for being born.

But for you people, how are you still celebrating your life despite how hopelessly stupid or ugly you are?

I am genuinely impressed.

Doesn’t it make you want to die?If you die, you can get cured you know. (This is true.)

Translation by @makyun [x]

In a manga whose theme is blatantly live, there is no character who advocates for death more than Furuta. Other than the times he’s been drawn teasingly pointing a gun with his head, or playing with a noose, this theme of death and suicide are things clearly wrapped around Furuta’s character.

I bring this up now because while the manga does indeed explore the fact that it’s understandable that these characters would think this way, that these poeple so starved for love and affection would grasp onto what few moments of happiness they have. That it is therefore not wrong for them to want love when they’ve been neglected for it. 

However, while it serves as an explanation for why these characters are the way they are, eternally unable to progress, and how they reached this point as well it does not excuse them. It is not an excuse because if it excuses any character in the manga, it would excuse Furuta as well.

if we follow that logic, then Furuta has every right to obsess over Rize because she’s the only small point of happiness he ever experienced in a life where he was basically born into slavery, told he was not going to live long, and then forced to kill.

It is perfectly understandable that anybody born in those circumstances would not only develop a worthless view of life, but also an unhealthy view of romance. After all, where exactly would Furuta find a model for healthy romance in the Washuu who repeatedly rape women for the sake of breeding as if they’re cattle, then throw the children away and forget even what their names were. 

Furuta, probably moreso than any other character in the cast is raised in an environment completely devoid of love. In repsonse to that, Furuta has no regard for life and his destructive activities are all a direct and thoughtful response to how he was raised.

If Kaneki’s acts of mass murder are excusable because he does them from an origin point of being starved of love, then what makes him different than Furuta? Is Furuta worse because he actively robs the agency of his love obsession in the most inhumane of ways again and again?

In that case does Kaneki arbitrarily being nice to a few people he is close to, but not caring about the vast majority of the people around him, either letting ghouls starve, or going berserk and killing hundreds of humans any better? Getting eaten by dragon probably instantly removed a lot of people from their agency as well. 

I’m not saying that Kaneki is somehow worse than Furuta. I’m just saying if we deem Furuta inexcusable, than none of these other characters who are desperately looking for love can be excused in their motivations either because they come from a loveless background. Wanting to cling to the few happy moments you have is understandable and sympathetic, but ultimately it’s not an excuse you can use to  stop yourself from moving forward.

"Can't repeat the past?" he cried incredulously. "Why of course you can" (116).

(Hint, Gatsby fails at repeating the past). 

Not only is it philosophically wrong, but the story does not allow it. There are of course several relationships right now where characters still seem to hung up on who they were in the past moreso than who they are developing into being. (Akira and Amon mainly), but even in those cases have you noticed that neither Akira nor Amon have developed as characters at all since getting together. Or even... done much besides stand next to each other?

Anyway, onto the examples where the idealization of the past is not allowed. 

It quite literally kills Naki. The irony here being that Yamori was not really somebody that was worth dying for at all. Every small kindness that Yamori showed Naki was outweighed by his abuse. We have every indication that Yamori tortured Naki too, and if he did not do that he beat him, broke his bones, threw him out of windows. 

Naki clung to the absolute bare minimum amount of kidnness that was in Yamori’s memory because it was all he had yes, but in that decision he also failed to notice that in many ways he was a lot better than Yamori.

Hoguro and Shousei followed him for him, and not Yamori. Naki’s death isn’t really some beautiful act of sacrifice for the memory of his beloved brother. It’s ironic and sad, because Naki truly couldn’t grasp even in the end that there were people who loved him more and much more healthily than his brother who beat the shit out of him and treated him like garbage. 

Then we have a few chapters later, Hinami’s own sacrifice. For almost the exact same reason, Hinami overidealizes her brother especially the one of the past. 

She nearly dies trying to earn the praise and support that Kaneki was just never going to give her, because just like Hinami Kaneki is a grown orphan who does not really understand love, and feels like he himself is constantly weak and needing assurance from others.

It’s this fixation on the past that robs Hinami of any true ability to grow, because the Kaneki that she wants to acknowledge her isn’t even there anymore. That was like five Kanekis ago. In fact, the current Kingneki did not even talk to Hinami once the entire arc, until she was just about to die.

However, Hinami herself is not like Naki, Furuta, or Kaneki who had absolutely no exposure to love when they needed it the most growing up as children. In fact for the first thirteen years of her life, Hinami was happy, loved, secure and cared for. 

Yet, we see that loss has inspired the same reaction in her. However, to reach a conclusion to this, Ui shows an example for what these characters need to realize.

Ui who was one of the most hung up characters on the past, to the point of believing he could genuinely revive the dead eventually admits this. That all of his clinging to the past was just his own seeking of solace. 

All he wanted was a reason. An excuse. His seeking of returning to the past with Arima and Hairu became that excuse and it helped him believe he was seeking comfort, but in the end it was flimsy, not any real solace. 

It’s a lesson that i want Kaneki to eventually grasp as well. That he doesn’t need to base everything in his life on whether or not other people around him love him or not. 

There’s more to life than simply wanting to be loved. There’s more experiences to life than just the positive ones. Which is also what I think Kaneki is staring to move towards. 

There’s value in both good and bad experiences, so there’s no reason really at all to simply cling to the good ones and sip only unsullied water.

That’s why the move to the future in Tokyo Ghoul has always been framed as a destructive and terrifying one. It’s comforting to linger in past memories, to stay in familiar relationships, to simply fall back into place without having to figure out how things have changed and how you have changed. 

However, to reach a better future you have to risk losing those things. Sometimes you might even have to destroy them with your own hands, to make room for something better. 

It’s scary to let go of those things, it’s destructive, it could possibly even be self destructive, but ultimately the only way things can change for the better is if you allow them to change. 

[briangroth27]

The End of the F***ing World Season 1 Review

The End of the F***ing World was a great, truly funny (and quite dark) black comedy! Jessica Barden and Alex Lawther were believable as teens (and as "proper bandits!") and were excellent at bringing humorous, serious, and compelling sides to their characters. I believed in their connection and wanted them to end up together somewhere they could find peace, despite the extremely questionable setup of James wanting to kill Alyssa. With a premise like that, this could've easily been a sexist or misogynistic tale, but the show did a great job of avoiding that trap.

Full Spoilers...

I was surprised by how likable James was, despite his belief that he was a sociopath and his plan to kill Alyssa. That may be partially because I’m not sure I ever really thought he would even attack her (much less succeed), but that didn’t lessen the emotional impact of what he was experiencing. I definitely expected her to find out what he wanted to do and while they explored her fearing him and not trusting him a bit, I’m surprised they didn’t play that card. The writers did a great job of humanizing someone who thought he was inhuman and James' mother (Kelly Harrison) and Alyssa were key to that. Admitting to the “murder” of his mother was a good way to get out of his aborted confession of the actual murder he’d committed while telling us about her death in more detail, and I'm not sure it was entirely a lie that he felt he killed her through inaction. Either way, I felt sorry for James when the truth about his mom's death was revealed. 

Alyssa could've come off as a manic pixie dream girl, only existing as an ideal to fix James' flaws and make him complete without any journey or growth of her own, but she never did. Instead, she challenged him and brought out sides he didn't know he had while discovering truths about herself as well. I liked her talk with James about not having to do what people told him after he was abused at the diner (and how she dealt with that creep (Geoff Bell) was masterful). Confronting his habit of going along with what people said even if he didn't want to was a good way to play with Alyssa’s insecurity over whether he really wanted her—or even wanted to be on this adventure—or not. It's interesting how that can be juxtaposed with how much more aggressive she was about their sex life. The implication wasn't ever that she was abusing him, of course, but setting their relationship and his personality up like that was a clever way to feed into her doubts about him, even while she was trying to get him to be more active in his decisions. This indecisiveness and uncertainty about where they stood in each other’s estimation was a great way to tease out their relationship when it would’ve been easier (and cheaper) to have them hook up as soon as they ran away together. At the same time, everyday roadblocks to intimacy like the picture of Clive Koch (Jonathan Aris) putting James off while Alyssa was trying to give him a blowjob were funny, while Alyssa getting James to dance with his eyes closed was one of many truly sweet sequences that totally sold me on their romance. The emergence of James' feelings was compelling: with him slowly experimenting and experiencing newfound parts of himself, he quickly became a far cry from the kid who put his hand in a fryer and didn't feel anything. James paying to have himself beaten up was a little odd at first—I thought it was to build a self-defense argument before turning himself in for the murder—but I prefer the explanation I saw elsewhere: it’s an attempt to feel, just like the fryer incident. Perhaps he thought an inability to feel was what drove Alyssa away and he wanted to prove to himself that he could. It was also interesting that while James had killed a lot of animals before, he couldn’t kill an injured dog after killing Koch. That was a neat way to show his growing feelings for other living things, the result of the nauseous disgust he’d experienced after murdering Koch, and possibly a tie back to watching his (emotionally) injured mom kill herself. Alyssa being able to kill the dog out of mercy worked without any sort of implication that she’s a serial killer: she doesn't have the same block nor the interest he did. I liked that James was repeatedly willing to turn himself in and take all the blame to save her, but I loved his realization that he wasn’t Alyssa’s protector—even when he killed Clive to save her, sparking confusion about her being scared of him because of it—she was his.

Even so, I loved the back and forth they gave her in regard to her opinion of James. It would've been lame to have her just constantly in love with this brooding guy out of boredom (or worse, because he was aloof), but rebuffing him off and on over the course of the series made their relationship's development feel more realistic (and his passive approach to their relationship prevented it from feeling like he was badgering her to date him). Bringing Topher (Alex Sawyer) back to Clive's house and nearly having sex with him could’ve made Alyssa seem flaky or unlikable, but her performance sold it, the writers never chose to make either lead the bad guy, and her feeling that James had rejected her prevented her from looking like a cheater. Not to mention, this was a great display of her agency and freedom to do what she wanted. I liked that Topher accepted her changing her mind and kicking him out before they had sex, even if he was angry: Alyssa laying down the law and him actually respecting her decision (despite whining about it) was refreshing. I loved that Alyssa didn't take James' crap either and took care of herself first—it’s totally understandable and reasonable that she would ditch him out of fear after the murder—until it meant the safety of a little girl (Lily Kavanagh). Alyssa aborting her escape from a shop's security guard (Leon Annor) to return a lost child to her father (Garry Summers), unintentionally convincing the guard to let her go without calling the police for shoplifting—and then shoplifting anyway—was a perfect encapsulation of her character. I also liked that she was somewhat using James to escape her life just as much as he planned to use her to see if he liked killing; that was an unconventional way of making them equals. After so many attempts to jump into sex, Alyssa asking James to wait when they were on the beach was a nice twist. Even though it wouldn’t have been immoral to sleep together earlier, there would’ve been more meaning (practically accidentally, given all their earlier failed attempts) to waiting until they both genuinely felt something—and knew they felt something—for each other instead of just having the idea of feelings.

That said, I loved that Alyssa's story wasn't just about figuring out whether she and James should be together. Alyssa crying in the bathroom on their first night in the hotel room was a great way of showing this wasn’t just some joyride as the reality of what they'd embarked upon hit her. Her reluctance to take the fastest route to her father Leslie (Barry Ward) out of fear that he wouldn’t accept her or even recognize her was a great reason to make the trip (and season) last longer and a solid insight into her self-worth. The promise of reaching her father and being happy was a strong drive for her character, made all the more tragic when she realized who he really was. For that reason, I’d be interested to see where she might go in a potential Season 2 without Leslie or James (preferably because he’s in prison, not dead); she’s definitely a strong character, but I’d like to see more of where she takes herself on her own and it’d be nice to see her find some happiness that isn’t wrapped up in the promise of a father figure or potential boyfriend. Alyssa knocking out DC Noon (Gemma Whelan) and trying to steal Leslie's boat with James will not bode well for her (even with James then knocking her out to take all the blame), so she probably has her own issues with the law to face first. I'd also be interested to see how she handles that.

Encountering an array of the worst people helped to offset the seriousness of the crimes Alyssa and James were committing. Whether they came across pedophiles, rapist murderers, or the everyday sexism Alyssa dealt with from her step-father (Navin Chowdhry), the show did a great job revealing that not only were the kids not the worst of society (as some might rush to brand younger "degenerate" generations), but they were far from the only criminals. Immorality and crime could be found everywhere, even in Alyssa's seemingly caring dad, who gave up and ran when things got too hard for his second family (not to mention being a drug dealer who laughed about running over a dog).

At the same time, the show struck a careful balance between good and bad in the adults who weren't examples of the problems with society (at least not directly). James and Alyssa's disputes with his father (Steve Oram) and her mother (Christine Bottomley) were structured realistically and didn’t make either teen seem like a spoiled brat. James and Alyssa’s parents were also sprinkled with enough care that it was believable they were concerned for their missing children, despite their flaws and shortcomings, later in the season instead of coming off as uncaring or tyrannical. It was kind of sad that petrol station attendant Frodo (Earl Cave) really wanted to come with James and Alyssa—he even helped them escape and rob his store—but they ditched him. I feel like perhaps he was in the story as a measure to keep Alyssa and James' crime spree from coming off as too enticing; they’d still committed real crimes and Frodo will doubtlessly lose his job (if not face charges) for helping them. If that was the intention, undercutting the wish fulfillment of the show’s premise and making James and Alyssa a little selfish is daring. If there's a second season, I'd like to see Alyssa and/or James meet Frodo again and deal with what they did to him, since he wasn't a scourge of society, just a little downtrodden. The most surprising balance came from Clive's mother (Elieen Davies); I didn’t expect her to have a change of heart and turn in the camcorder with evidence of him raping women. I definitely thought that would be much harder for the kids to prove, but it was clever writing to not allow her actions to fully get them off the hook. In terms of the actual investigation, I don't think the authorities needed to find James' knife. Hiding it in the pool drain was really stupid in the first place and felt a little out of character (though as I’ve seen suggested elsewhere, he may have just been panicking). He and Alyssa were already connected to the house via Topher’s wallet and the knife could've been recovered at Leslie's, so the case didn’t really need that element or his mistake.

I really liked the comedy the show got out of Detective Constables Eunice Noon and Teri Darego (Wunmi Mosaku) as they slowly closed in on James and Alyssa. Noon crushing on Darego and Darego not being interested (despite something having previously occurred between them) added to the off-kilter romantic comedy vibe the show was dealing in perfectly. It was also great that they weren't buffoons chasing much smarter teens. I was happy to see a pair of strong women not only as the lead investigators but who were defined by more than the awkwardness of their will they/won't they relationship. Their increasing difference of opinion over whether James and Alyssa were truly criminals or if they were just scared, misunderstood kids who'd made mistakes—Noon believed in them, Darego argued they’ll still get manslaughter for killing Clive in self-defense, especially given James was about to turn 18—was a great source of drama in their relationship. It was masterful that this disagreement not only drove a wedge in their partnership, but reminded the audience of how much trouble the kids were in. It can't just be fun and games for them, even if the authorities believe their story.

I saw a review that said this show was nihilistic, but I disagree: I think the fact that James is a good person at heart and just needed to realize it is anything but nihilism. Alyssa too is willing to give herself up to save a kid; how can the discovery of love and concern for one another be anything but meaningful? Unlike a lot of people (from what I've seen online), I do want a second season. I want to see James deal with his end-of-season revelation about what people mean to each other. People don't stop growing when they have realizations about themselves; in fact what they do with that information is just as (and often, much more) interesting as how they got there. I also want to know how Alyssa is affected by the events of the finale (whatever they may be; personally I think James survived, but was arrested). Maybe she could spring him from jail somehow. She also has a fair bit to answer for over the course of the season, so what will happen to her? And what happens if she finds out that James planned to kill her? I was very happy DC Noon survived, so at least they might have her in their corner and the one person who knows their side of the story didn't end up as another death on their hands. As it stands, I can surmise enough of the finale's fallout to be mostly satisfied if this is the ending, but it was still a little too open-ended for me and I want to see what happens next. I also want more time with these compelling characters! So, let's have Season 2, Netflix!

  Check out more of my reviews, opinions, theories, and original short stories here!

[lodelss]

An Indigenous Woman Made it to Safety in the US. DHS Won’t Let it Go.

When Flor got word that she was going to be able to make her way into the U.S. and reunite with her family last May, she was ecstatic. For more than nine months, Flor and her five-year-old daughter had been stuck in Matamoros, Mexico, living inside a two-person tent in a squalid refugee camp near the U.S. border while they waited for an immigration judge to hear their asylum claim.   Flor — whose full name is being omitted for her safety — and her daughter were among the roughly 60,000 asylum seekers who’d been trapped in Mexico under the Trump administration’s “Migrant Protection Protocols” (MPP).   The months she spent in Matamoros were a nightmare.Temperatures oscillated between blazing heat during the day and frigid cold at night. One of those nights, she and her daughter huddled in their tent as the sound of a gun battle between police and a local drug cartel echoed through the streets. Another time, Flor says men cornered her and demanded extortion payments. When she failed to pay, she was violently assaulted.   So when Flor heard that she and her daughter were going to be allowed to enter the U.S., the where they could continue the asylum process under the care of relatives in Massachusetts, she felt like she was being given a new lease on life.   “I don’t know how to express the happiness I felt,” she said. “Knowing that we would be happy, at ease, and safe…I don’t know if you could understand it.”   By May 2020, being allowed to enter the U.S. as an asylum seeker was akin to a miracle.    The Coronavirus pandemic was raging in the U.S., and hearings for cases like hers had been indefinitely postponed, stranding thousands of asylum seekers in cities across Mexico with no idea when immigration courts would start hearing their claims again. In March, the Centers for Disease Control had caved under pressure from the Trump administration and issued a dubious public health order that allowed border officials to eject asylum seekers from the country almost instantaneously. By late Spring, America’s asylum system had essentially ceased to exist.

A Guatemalan asylum seeker and her two daughters are expelled from the U.S. into Ciudad Juarez under the CDC’s Title 42 order, April 2, 2020.

Paul Ratje

But in Massachusetts, Flor’s family’s plea for help had reached the ACLU of Massachusetts. They were desperate – the stories she told them about the situation in the camp were increasingly dire, and they feared for her life and that of her young daughter. ACLU attorneys in the state and nationally had already brought litigation against the MPP, and they decided to take her case along with a coalition of other advocates.   Flor joined two other women — one of whom also had a five-year-old child — as plaintiffs in the case, which argued that putting them in the MPP was illegal and inhumane. In the following weeks, attorneys for the ACLU in Massachusetts interviewed Flor and the other two women via cell phone. Flor would charge hers ahead of time in a communal charging station at the camp.   “It was only after talking to them on the phone for a really long time, sometimes ten hours, that they felt comfortable enough to share some of the things that they had been through,” said Adriana Lafaille, a staff attorney with the ACLU of Massachusetts.   Flor is from Guatemala and is Maya K’iche’ — a member of an Indigenous group from the country’s remote highlands. Throughout Guatemalan history, Maya K’iche’ and other Indigenous groups have been the target of discrimination and violence at the hands of politically dominant Spanish-descended Guatemalans, sometimes called “Ladinos.”   In recent years, that violence has surged, with conflicts erupting between Mayan communities and prospectors with their eye on valuable mineral deposits beneath Indigenous land.   Flor’s father was a vocal advocate for Indigenous rights, and she says she suffered as a result. After he was attacked and incapacitated, she began working as a maid in a Ladino household at the age of 10. She suffered repeated abuse at the hands of her employers, and, at 19, was violently attacked by a group of men who demanded information about her uncles.   By mid-2019, she knew it was time to leave.   “I realized that my daughter and I would never be able to escape persecution in Guatemala, and we fled,” she recounted in an affidavit.   But by the time the COVID-19 crisis erupted, Flor had been in the Matamoros refugee camp for nearly eight months. Her daughter was losing weight, saying she was too sad to eat, and Flor feared the men who’d assaulted her might return.

Refugee camp for migrants and asylum seekers in Matamoros, Mexico, October 2019.

Guillermo Arias for the ACLU.

In May, Flor received a phone call from her attorneys. A federal judge had ruled in her favor, granting the ACLU’s request for her to be taken out of the MPP. She and her daughter would be joining a small handful of people who’d escaped the policy.   Flor’s attorneys feared she might be sent to an immigration detention facility instead of being released to her family in Massachusetts. But after only a single night in detention, she and the others were released. For Lafaille, it was a hard-fought win in an era where the courts have often thwarted efforts to block the Trump administration’s harsh immigration policies.   “We were all just so relieved,” she said. “For our clients, it was an end to this incredibly difficult ordeal and a long period of such hardship and uncertainty.”   Flor and her daughter settled into life in Massachusetts. The pandemic was still raging, so mostly they stayed inside, but occasionally she accompanied her aunt to the park or grocery store.   “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “I feel a tranquility that I have never experienced in my life. I’m treated nicely by people.”   But it quickly became apparent that lawyers from the Department of Homeland Security were not going to accept the loss and move on. Not long after Flor and the others arrived in Massachusetts, Lafaille received notice that the government planned to appeal the decision. By mid-summer, COVID-19 had arrived in shelters across the U.S.-Mexico border, as well as in the refugee camp where Flor spent nearly a year. Despite the rise in cases in Mexico, DHS refused to relent — the agency pressed on with the appeal, seeking the power to send Flor, her daughter, and the others back to Mexico immediately.   Lafaille says that the appeal is a symbol of just how hostile the federal government has become towards asylum seekers under the Trump administration.   “Not only has the government claimed that our clients weren’t facing urgent harms in Mexico,” she said. “But after our clients were here in Massachusetts, DHS also asserted that the appeal had to be expedited because it was the government that was being harmed by having to allow these three women and two children — who they never contended were dangerous in any way — to live in safety with their families.”   Because of DHS’s appeal, Flor isn’t just facing the daunting task of presenting an asylum claim in immigration court — she’s fighting to prevent her and her daughter from being forced to do so from a tent inside a refugee camp during a pandemic.   Flor says she has to find ways to distract herself from the prospect.   “I tell myself that I shouldn’t think about that,” she said. “When I do, I try to think about other things instead.”   The ACLU of Massachusetts argued against DHS’s appeal in front of the First Circuit Court of Appeals on Oct. 6. Even in an era where the federal government is using every avenue it can to prevent asylum seekers from entering the country, she says the appeal stands out.   “It just shows a government that is totally devoid of humanity,” said Lafaille. “In the government’s eyes, the MPP is working because it is so devastating to asylum seekers that many simply cannot make it to their hearings, and their claims are deemed abandoned. They want the process to be so hard and dangerous in Mexico that people just give up.” Until the First Circuit rules on the appeal, Flor and the other new arrivals are stuck in limbo, hoping they’ll be allowed to remain safe and out of harm’s way. “The thing I wish for the most, what I ask God for, is to not be sent back to Mexico,” she said. The ACLU of Massachusetts is co-counseling this case with the firm Fish & Richardson. Flor has been represented in her immigration case by the Law Office of Jodi Goodwin in Harlingen, Texas, and is now represented by Greater Boston Legal Services and the Harvard Immigration and Refugee Clinic. In the First Circuit, the plaintiffs’ position was supported by National Citizenship and Immigration Services Council 119, represented by Patterson Belknap Webb & Tyler LLP; former government officials including Janet Napolitano, Roberta Jacobson and James Clapper, represented by WilmerHale; and a coalition of legal service providers and organizations, represented by the Law Office of Joshua M. Daniels.

Published October 12, 2020 at 08:30PM via ACLU https://ift.tt/3iTOXF3

[techcrunchappcom]

New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/debris-falls-from-plane-during-emergency-landing-near-denver/

Debris falls from plane during emergency landing near Denver

Image Source : AP

This photo released by Broomfield Police Department on Twitter shows debris from a commercial airliner that narrowly missed a home as it fell onto Denver suburbs during an emergency landing Saturday, Feb. 20, 2021, in Broomfield, Colo.

Debris from a United Airlines plane fell onto Denver suburbs during an emergency landing Saturday after one of its engines suffered a catastrophic failure and rained pieces of the engine casing on a neighborhood where it narrowly missed a home. The plane landed safely, and nobody aboard or on the ground was reported hurt, authorities said.

The Federal Aviation Administration said in a statement that the Boeing 777-200 returned to the Denver International Airport after experiencing a right-engine failure shortly after takeoff. Flight 328 was flying from Denver to Honolulu when the incident occurred, the agency said.

United said in a separate statement that there were 231 passengers and 10 crew on board. All passengers were to be rebooked on a new flight to Hawaii, the airline said.

The Broomfield Police Department posted photos on Twitter showing large, circular pieces of debris leaning against a house in the suburb about 25 miles (40 kilometers) north of Denver. Police are asking that anyone injured to come forward.

Passengers recounted a terrifying ordeal that began to unfold shortly after the plane full of vacationers took off.

The aircraft was almost at cruising altitude and the captain was giving an announcement over the intercom when a large explosion rocked the cabin, accompanied by a bright flash.

“The plane started shaking violently, and we lost altitude and we started going down,” said David Delucia, who was sitting directly across the aisle from the side with the failed engine. “When it initially happened, I thought we were done. I thought we were going down.”

Delucia and his wife took their wallets containing their driver’s licenses and put them in their pockets so that “in case we did go down, we could be ID’d,” said Delucia, who was still shaken up as he waited to board another flight for Honolulu.

On the ground, witnesses also heard the explosion and were scared for those on board.

Tyler Thal, who lives in the area, told The Associated Press that he was out for a walk with his family when he noticed a large commercial plane flying unusually low and took out his phone to film it.

“While I was looking at it, I saw an explosion and then the cloud of smoke and some debris falling from it. It was just like a speck in the sky, and as I’m watching that, I’m telling my family what I just saw and then we heard the explosion,” he said in a phone interview. “The plane just kind of continued on, and we didn’t see it after that.”

Thal was relieved to learn no one was injured or killed from what he saw.

Video posted on Twitter showed the engine fully engulfed in flames as the plane flew through the air.

Kirby Klements was inside with his wife when they heard a huge booming sound, he said. A few seconds later, the couple saw a massive piece of debris fly past their window and into the bed of Klements’ truck, crushing the cab and pushing the vehicle into the dirt.

He estimated the circular engine cowling at 15 feet (4.5 meters) in diameter. Fine pieces of the fiberglass insulation used in the airplane engine fell from the sky “like ash” for about 10 minutes, he said, and several large chunks of insulation landed in his backyard.

“If it had been 10 feet different, it would have landed right on top of the house,” he said in a phone interview with the AP. “And if anyone had been in the truck, they would have been dead.”

The National Transportation Safety Board is investigating.

Aviation safety experts said the plane appeared to have suffered an uncontained and catastrophic engine failure. Such an event is extremely rare and happens when huge spinning discs inside the engine suffer some sort of failure and breach the armored casing around the engine that is designed to contain the damage, said John Cox, an aviation safety expert and retired airline pilot who runs an aviation safety consulting firm called Safety Operating Systems.

“That unbalanced disk has a lot of force in it, and it’s spinning at several thousand rotations per minute … and when you have that much centrifugal force, it has to go somewhere,” he said in a phone interview.

Pilots practice how to deal with such an event frequently and would have immediately shut off anything flammable in the engine, including fuel and hydraulic fluid, using a single switch, Cox said.

Former NTSB Chairman Jim Hall called the incident another example of “cracks in our culture in aviation safety (that) need to be addressed.

Hall, who was on the board from 1994 to 2001, has criticized the FAA over the past decade as “drifting toward letting the manufacturers provide the aviation oversight that the public was paying for.” That goes especially for Boeing, he said.

Despite the scary appearance of a flaming engine, most such incidents don’t result in loss of life, Cox said.

The last fatality on a U.S. airline flight involved an engine failure on a Southwest Airlines flight from New York to Dallas in April 2018. A passenger was killed when the engine disintegrated more than 30,000 feet above Pennsylvania and debris struck the plane, breaking the window next to her seat. She was forced halfway out the window before other passengers pulled her back inside.

In that case, the breakdown was blamed on a broken fan blade in an engine of the Boeing 737. The Federal Aviation Administration ordered airlines to step up inspections of fan blades on certain engines made by CFM International, a joint venture of General Electric and France’s Safran S.A.

In 2010, a Qantas Airbus A380 suffered a frightening uncontained engine failure shortly after takeoff from Singapore. Shrapnel from the engine damaged critical systems on the plane, but pilots were able to land safely. The incident was blamed on the faulty manufacturing of a pipe in the Rolls Royce engine.

“The flames scare the hell out of everybody. But they are the least of the problem because you’re going to get them put out and you’re going to shut off everything that can burn,” Cox said.

Latest World News

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[madisonacampbell]

Via the ACLU: An Indigenous Woman Made it to Safety in the US. DHS Won’t Let it Go.

An Indigenous Woman Made it to Safety in the US. DHS Won’t Let it Go.

When Flor got word that she was going to be able to make her way into the U.S. and reunite with her family last May, she was ecstatic. For more than nine months, Flor and her five-year-old daughter had been stuck in Matamoros, Mexico, living inside a two-person tent in a squalid refugee camp near the U.S. border while they waited for an immigration judge to hear their asylum claim.   Flor — whose full name is being omitted for her safety — and her daughter were among the roughly 60,000 asylum seekers who’d been trapped in Mexico under the Trump administration’s “Migrant Protection Protocols” (MPP).   The months she spent in Matamoros were a nightmare.Temperatures oscillated between blazing heat during the day and frigid cold at night. One of those nights, she and her daughter huddled in their tent as the sound of a gun battle between police and a local drug cartel echoed through the streets. Another time, Flor says men cornered her and demanded extortion payments. When she failed to pay, she was violently assaulted.   So when Flor heard that she and her daughter were going to be allowed to enter the U.S., the where they could continue the asylum process under the care of relatives in Massachusetts, she felt like she was being given a new lease on life.   “I don’t know how to express the happiness I felt,” she said. “Knowing that we would be happy, at ease, and safe…I don’t know if you could understand it.”   By May 2020, being allowed to enter the U.S. as an asylum seeker was akin to a miracle.    The Coronavirus pandemic was raging in the U.S., and hearings for cases like hers had been indefinitely postponed, stranding thousands of asylum seekers in cities across Mexico with no idea when immigration courts would start hearing their claims again. In March, the Centers for Disease Control had caved under pressure from the Trump administration and issued a dubious public health order that allowed border officials to eject asylum seekers from the country almost instantaneously. By late Spring, America’s asylum system had essentially ceased to exist.

A Guatemalan asylum seeker and her two daughters are expelled from the U.S. into Ciudad Juarez under the CDC’s Title 42 order, April 2, 2020.

Paul Ratje

But in Massachusetts, Flor’s family’s plea for help had reached the ACLU of Massachusetts. They were desperate – the stories she told them about the situation in the camp were increasingly dire, and they feared for her life and that of her young daughter. ACLU attorneys in the state and nationally had already brought litigation against the MPP, and they decided to take her case along with a coalition of other advocates.   Flor joined two other women — one of whom also had a five-year-old child — as plaintiffs in the case, which argued that putting them in the MPP was illegal and inhumane. In the following weeks, attorneys for the ACLU in Massachusetts interviewed Flor and the other two women via cell phone. Flor would charge hers ahead of time in a communal charging station at the camp.   “It was only after talking to them on the phone for a really long time, sometimes ten hours, that they felt comfortable enough to share some of the things that they had been through,” said Adriana Lafaille, a staff attorney with the ACLU of Massachusetts.   Flor is from Guatemala and is Maya K’iche’ — a member of an Indigenous group from the country’s remote highlands. Throughout Guatemalan history, Maya K’iche’ and other Indigenous groups have been the target of discrimination and violence at the hands of politically dominant Spanish-descended Guatemalans, sometimes called “Ladinos.”   In recent years, that violence has surged, with conflicts erupting between Mayan communities and prospectors with their eye on valuable mineral deposits beneath Indigenous land.   Flor’s father was a vocal advocate for Indigenous rights, and she says she suffered as a result. After he was attacked and incapacitated, she began working as a maid in a Ladino household at the age of 10. She suffered repeated abuse at the hands of her employers, and, at 19, was violently attacked by a group of men who demanded information about her uncles.   By mid-2019, she knew it was time to leave.   “I realized that my daughter and I would never be able to escape persecution in Guatemala, and we fled,” she recounted in an affidavit.   But by the time the COVID-19 crisis erupted, Flor had been in the Matamoros refugee camp for nearly eight months. Her daughter was losing weight, saying she was too sad to eat, and Flor feared the men who’d assaulted her might return.

Refugee camp for migrants and asylum seekers in Matamoros, Mexico, October 2019.

Guillermo Arias for the ACLU.

In May, Flor received a phone call from her attorneys. A federal judge had ruled in her favor, granting the ACLU’s request for her to be taken out of the MPP. She and her daughter would be joining a small handful of people who’d escaped the policy.   Flor’s attorneys feared she might be sent to an immigration detention facility instead of being released to her family in Massachusetts. But after only a single night in detention, she and the others were released. For Lafaille, it was a hard-fought win in an era where the courts have often thwarted efforts to block the Trump administration’s harsh immigration policies.   “We were all just so relieved,” she said. “For our clients, it was an end to this incredibly difficult ordeal and a long period of such hardship and uncertainty.”   Flor and her daughter settled into life in Massachusetts. The pandemic was still raging, so mostly they stayed inside, but occasionally she accompanied her aunt to the park or grocery store.   “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “I feel a tranquility that I have never experienced in my life. I’m treated nicely by people.”   But it quickly became apparent that lawyers from the Department of Homeland Security were not going to accept the loss and move on. Not long after Flor and the others arrived in Massachusetts, Lafaille received notice that the government planned to appeal the decision. By mid-summer, COVID-19 had arrived in shelters across the U.S.-Mexico border, as well as in the refugee camp where Flor spent nearly a year. Despite the rise in cases in Mexico, DHS refused to relent — the agency pressed on with the appeal, seeking the power to send Flor, her daughter, and the others back to Mexico immediately.   Lafaille says that the appeal is a symbol of just how hostile the federal government has become towards asylum seekers under the Trump administration.   “Not only has the government claimed that our clients weren’t facing urgent harms in Mexico,” she said. “But after our clients were here in Massachusetts, DHS also asserted that the appeal had to be expedited because it was the government that was being harmed by having to allow these three women and two children — who they never contended were dangerous in any way — to live in safety with their families.”   Because of DHS’s appeal, Flor isn’t just facing the daunting task of presenting an asylum claim in immigration court — she’s fighting to prevent her and her daughter from being forced to do so from a tent inside a refugee camp during a pandemic.   Flor says she has to find ways to distract herself from the prospect.   “I tell myself that I shouldn’t think about that,” she said. “When I do, I try to think about other things instead.”   The ACLU of Massachusetts argued against DHS’s appeal in front of the First Circuit Court of Appeals on Oct. 6. Even in an era where the federal government is using every avenue it can to prevent asylum seekers from entering the country, she says the appeal stands out.   “It just shows a government that is totally devoid of humanity,” said Lafaille. “In the government’s eyes, the MPP is working because it is so devastating to asylum seekers that many simply cannot make it to their hearings, and their claims are deemed abandoned. They want the process to be so hard and dangerous in Mexico that people just give up.” Until the First Circuit rules on the appeal, Flor and the other new arrivals are stuck in limbo, hoping they’ll be allowed to remain safe and out of harm’s way. “The thing I wish for the most, what I ask God for, is to not be sent back to Mexico,” she said. The ACLU of Massachusetts is co-counseling this case with the firm Fish & Richardson. Flor has been represented in her immigration case by the Law Office of Jodi Goodwin in Harlingen, Texas, and is now represented by Greater Boston Legal Services and the Harvard Immigration and Refugee Clinic. In the First Circuit, the plaintiffs’ position was supported by National Citizenship and Immigration Services Council 119, represented by Patterson Belknap Webb & Tyler LLP; former government officials including Janet Napolitano, Roberta Jacobson and James Clapper, represented by WilmerHale; and a coalition of legal service providers and organizations, represented by the Law Office of Joshua M. Daniels.

Published October 12, 2020 at 11:00AM via ACLU (https://ift.tt/3iTOXF3) via ACLU

[nancydhooper]

An Indigenous Woman Made it to Safety in the US. DHS Won’t Let it Go.

When Flor got word that she was going to be able to make her way into the U.S. and reunite with her family last May, she was ecstatic. For more than nine months, Flor and her five-year-old daughter had been stuck in Matamoros, Mexico, living inside a two-person tent in a squalid refugee camp near the U.S. border while they waited for an immigration judge to hear their asylum claim.   Flor — whose full name is being omitted for her safety — and her daughter were among the roughly 60,000 asylum seekers who’d been trapped in Mexico under the Trump administration’s “Migrant Protection Protocols” (MPP).   The months she spent in Matamoros were a nightmare.Temperatures oscillated between blazing heat during the day and frigid cold at night. One of those nights, she and her daughter huddled in their tent as the sound of a gun battle between police and a local drug cartel echoed through the streets. Another time, Flor says men cornered her and demanded extortion payments. When she failed to pay, she was violently assaulted.   So when Flor heard that she and her daughter were going to be allowed to enter the U.S., the where they could continue the asylum process under the care of relatives in Massachusetts, she felt like she was being given a new lease on life.   “I don’t know how to express the happiness I felt,” she said. “Knowing that we would be happy, at ease, and safe…I don’t know if you could understand it.”   By May 2020, being allowed to enter the U.S. as an asylum seeker was akin to a miracle.    The Coronavirus pandemic was raging in the U.S., and hearings for cases like hers had been indefinitely postponed, stranding thousands of asylum seekers in cities across Mexico with no idea when immigration courts would start hearing their claims again. In March, the Centers for Disease Control had caved under pressure from the Trump administration and issued a dubious public health order that allowed border officials to eject asylum seekers from the country almost instantaneously. By late Spring, America’s asylum system had essentially ceased to exist.

A Guatemalan asylum seeker and her two daughters are expelled from the U.S. into Ciudad Juarez under the CDC’s Title 42 order, April 2, 2020.

Paul Ratje

But in Massachusetts, Flor’s family’s plea for help had reached the ACLU of Massachusetts. They were desperate – the stories she told them about the situation in the camp were increasingly dire, and they feared for her life and that of her young daughter. ACLU attorneys in the state and nationally had already brought litigation against the MPP, and they decided to take her case along with a coalition of other advocates.   Flor joined two other women — one of whom also had a five-year-old child — as plaintiffs in the case, which argued that putting them in the MPP was illegal and inhumane. In the following weeks, attorneys for the ACLU in Massachusetts interviewed Flor and the other two women via cell phone. Flor would charge hers ahead of time in a communal charging station at the camp.   “It was only after talking to them on the phone for a really long time, sometimes ten hours, that they felt comfortable enough to share some of the things that they had been through,” said Adriana Lafaille, a staff attorney with the ACLU of Massachusetts.   Flor is from Guatemala and is Maya K’iche’ — a member of an Indigenous group from the country’s remote highlands. Throughout Guatemalan history, Maya K’iche’ and other Indigenous groups have been the target of discrimination and violence at the hands of politically dominant Spanish-descended Guatemalans, sometimes called “Ladinos.”   In recent years, that violence has surged, with conflicts erupting between Mayan communities and prospectors with their eye on valuable mineral deposits beneath Indigenous land.   Flor’s father was a vocal advocate for Indigenous rights, and she says she suffered as a result. After he was attacked and incapacitated, she began working as a maid in a Ladino household at the age of 10. She suffered repeated abuse at the hands of her employers, and, at 19, was violently attacked by a group of men who demanded information about her uncles.   By mid-2019, she knew it was time to leave.   “I realized that my daughter and I would never be able to escape persecution in Guatemala, and we fled,” she recounted in an affidavit.   But by the time the COVID-19 crisis erupted, Flor had been in the Matamoros refugee camp for nearly eight months. Her daughter was losing weight, saying she was too sad to eat, and Flor feared the men who’d assaulted her might return.

Refugee camp for migrants and asylum seekers in Matamoros, Mexico, October 2019.

Guillermo Arias for the ACLU.

In May, Flor received a phone call from her attorneys. A federal judge had ruled in her favor, granting the ACLU’s request for her to be taken out of the MPP. She and her daughter would be joining a small handful of people who’d escaped the policy.   Flor’s attorneys feared she might be sent to an immigration detention facility instead of being released to her family in Massachusetts. But after only a single night in detention, she and the others were released. For Lafaille, it was a hard-fought win in an era where the courts have often thwarted efforts to block the Trump administration’s harsh immigration policies.   “We were all just so relieved,” she said. “For our clients, it was an end to this incredibly difficult ordeal and a long period of such hardship and uncertainty.”   Flor and her daughter settled into life in Massachusetts. The pandemic was still raging, so mostly they stayed inside, but occasionally she accompanied her aunt to the park or grocery store.   “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “I feel a tranquility that I have never experienced in my life. I’m treated nicely by people.”   But it quickly became apparent that lawyers from the Department of Homeland Security were not going to accept the loss and move on. Not long after Flor and the others arrived in Massachusetts, Lafaille received notice that the government planned to appeal the decision. By mid-summer, COVID-19 had arrived in shelters across the U.S.-Mexico border, as well as in the refugee camp where Flor spent nearly a year. Despite the rise in cases in Mexico, DHS refused to relent — the agency pressed on with the appeal, seeking the power to send Flor, her daughter, and the others back to Mexico immediately.   Lafaille says that the appeal is a symbol of just how hostile the federal government has become towards asylum seekers under the Trump administration.   “Not only has the government claimed that our clients weren’t facing urgent harms in Mexico,” she said. “But after our clients were here in Massachusetts, DHS also asserted that the appeal had to be expedited because it was the government that was being harmed by having to allow these three women and two children — who they never contended were dangerous in any way — to live in safety with their families.”   Because of DHS’s appeal, Flor isn’t just facing the daunting task of presenting an asylum claim in immigration court — she’s fighting to prevent her and her daughter from being forced to do so from a tent inside a refugee camp during a pandemic.   Flor says she has to find ways to distract herself from the prospect.   “I tell myself that I shouldn’t think about that,” she said. “When I do, I try to think about other things instead.”   The ACLU of Massachusetts argued against DHS’s appeal in front of the First Circuit Court of Appeals on Oct. 6. Even in an era where the federal government is using every avenue it can to prevent asylum seekers from entering the country, she says the appeal stands out.   “It just shows a government that is totally devoid of humanity,” said Lafaille. “In the government’s eyes, the MPP is working because it is so devastating to asylum seekers that many simply cannot make it to their hearings, and their claims are deemed abandoned. They want the process to be so hard and dangerous in Mexico that people just give up.” Until the First Circuit rules on the appeal, Flor and the other new arrivals are stuck in limbo, hoping they’ll be allowed to remain safe and out of harm’s way. “The thing I wish for the most, what I ask God for, is to not be sent back to Mexico,” she said. The ACLU of Massachusetts is co-counseling this case with the firm Fish & Richardson. Flor has been represented in her immigration case by the Law Office of Jodi Goodwin in Harlingen, Texas, and is now represented by Greater Boston Legal Services and the Harvard Immigration and Refugee Clinic. In the First Circuit, the plaintiffs’ position was supported by National Citizenship and Immigration Services Council 119, represented by Patterson Belknap Webb & Tyler LLP; former government officials including Janet Napolitano, Roberta Jacobson and James Clapper, represented by WilmerHale; and a coalition of legal service providers and organizations, represented by the Law Office of Joshua M. Daniels.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247012 https://www.aclu.org/news/immigrants-rights/this-indigenous-woman-reached-safety-in-the-us-and-dhs-is-furious via http://www.rssmix.com/

[sulietsexual]

Do that trauma thing but for angel! (Please)

Anonymous said: Different anon, but I’m curious, what do you think is the most traumatic thing the main characters from AtS went through?

Anonymous said: Sorry u might have got this ask and just. Or wanted to answer but if not could you do the trauma ask thing for angel plz

Angel

Withouta doubt, I would list Angel’s biggest trauma as losing his son when Holtjumps through the portal to Quor-toth.

Angelis a person who is used to losing those he cares about or having to walk awayfrom those he loves to protect or save them. He is someone who can usually takethese losses in stride, collect his emotions and remain stoic and focused on thebigger picture. Connor is an entirely different matter.

Angelobviously never planned on or thought he would ever have a child, so whenConnor was miraculously born, he became Angel’s entire world, to the pointwhere Angel literally would not let anyone else hold him or go near him for thefirst twenty-four hours of his life. He loved Connor more than anything in theworld, and his priorities changed entirely when Connor arrived. Suddenly Connorwas the thing Angel put above all else, the one person he couldn’t live without,the one being who owned all of Angel’s soul.

So losing Connor was, to put it mildly,devastating for Angel, as witnessed by his subsequent actions. Never before hasAngel lost it the way he did when confronting Wesley at the hospital, neverbefore has Angel been so driven by pain and rage and trauma that he literallydidn’t care if the whole world burned so long as he got his son back. And wheneverything failed to get Connor back, he went almost catatonic, sitting insideConnor’s burnt-out room for days, not moving, not speaking, too devastated bythe loss of his son to even pretend to be alright. No trauma before or sincehas ever affected Angel in such adevastating manner.

Cordelia

Kindof like Buffy, I feel like Cordy’s actualbiggest trauma and the event presentedas her biggest trauma are different events.

For mepersonally, I would list Jasmine hi-jacking Cordy’s body, raping her andConnor, using Cordy’s body to commit murder and eventually birthing herself tobe Cordelia’s biggest trauma, especially since Cordelia retains memories of thewhole ordeal. Another being taking over your agency and body and using you forevil, leaving you with no choice in matter and no way to stop them would be terrifying and traumatic and absolutelyhorrific to experience. However, due to the fact that Cordy slips into a coma andeventually dies from this ordeal, there is no way for the show to present andexplore the after-effects this would have had on her had she survived.

So,with that in mind, I would say that narrativelyCordy’s biggest trauma is the physical manifestations of her visions inThat Vision Thing. As she says to Lilah in the episode Billy, she was burned, cut, traumatisedand didn’t know whether she would die, rendering her completely helpless. Thephysical pain she endures throughout that episode, not to mention thepsychological damage it would have done, seems to stay with Cordy for a whileafter, and as we see in Billy, she still clearly recalls the feeling of beingvictimised and feeling powerless.

Wes

Look,I know that the show wants me to viewFred’s death as Wesley’s biggest trauma, but I hate the Fresley relationship,Wesley’s role within it and his creepy and obsessive feelings for Fred, and Ifind his pain over her death to be narcissistic, self-indulgent andself-centered and if anyone gets togrieve Fred to that degree it should be Gunn, you know, the guy who had an actual relationship with her for over ayear, who respected her and was her equal partner, not some creepy sexist dudewho infantilized and idealized her, and screwed over everyone and anyone to gether in the end.

So Iwould list Wesley’s biggest trauma as his childhood. Much like Xander, thereare definite hints that Wesley’s childhood was unhappy and abusive, and thathis father in particular was emotionally and probably physically abusive. Andagain, like Xander, you can see a lot of this reflected in Wesley’s behaviourand his attitude towards women. Although, unlikeXander, Wesley indulges his sexism and allows it to turn into full-blownmisogyny, and he ends up treating the women in his life appallingly because ofthis.

Gunn

Ithink Gunn’s entire life up until he meets Team Angel is probably saturatedwith trauma, given that he’s been watching his friends die and been trying toprotect everyone for years, but it isfairly obvious that his biggest trauma was when Allona was murdered, turned andthen sent back to him only for him to have to stake her.

Weknow that Gunn was crazy protective of Allona, that she was the most importantperson in the world to him. While he was concerned with keeping his entire crewsafe, Allona was prioritized above all, she was the one he ultimately wanted tokeep out of danger. So when she was not only taken by vampires but then turned into a vampire and returned tohim, the trauma and pain and guilt cut deeper than anything Gunn hadexperienced before or since. Not only was Allona’s fate a consequence of hisown recklessness but he was then forced to kill her all over again, much likeXander was with Jesse. And, much like Xander, this incident has such a profoundeffect on Gunn and traumatizes him so badly, that he struggles to shake hisblack-and-white view of the world and he has a very hard time fully trustingAngel, seemingly only being able to do so towards the end of Season 3/earlySeason 4, despite fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with the vampire.

Fred

Ithink we can all agree that Fred’s biggest trauma was being sucked through aportal and having to fend for herself for five years in Pylea. While Fredproves how self-sufficient and strong she is by surviving the Hell dimension,the after-effects of this trauma seemingly stay with her for the rest of theseries.

As wesee in the series, when Fred finally escapes Pylea she is still so traumatisedthat she basically develops agoraphobia, refusing to leave her room, scribblingon her walls and avoiding everyone in the Hyperion. Once she finally does startventuring outside, her mannerisms remain timid and anxious, she frequentlyhides under or behind furniture and she doesn’t start to really recover untilthe middle of the season. A combination of her beautiful relationship with Gunn, aswell as being forced into a leadership role when Angel, Cordy and Wes disappear, finally helps to turn into a stronger and more in-control character, but as weare shown in Supersymmetry, she still carries the trauma of Pylea enough thatshe is severely triggered when a portal opens on top of her. Had she lived, sheprobably would have had to work to overcome this trauma and finally get to aplace where she didn’t fear her past as much.

Connor

Ohgod, Connor, basically until Angelchanges his memories and gives him a new family, this poor kid’s entire freaking life is one longEmotional Trauma Conga Line. I mean, where do I even start? Kidnapped as aninfant, raised in a hell dimensionwhere his foster father used extreme methods to teach him survival (tyingConnor to a tree and leaving him there for days springs to mind – and Connorwas a child when this happened),brought up to hate part of himself, punches through to our world to meet hisbiological father, starts to form a bond with him and is then manipulated into believinghis biological father killed his foster father, kicked out of home and forcedto live on the streets, emotionally and sexually manipulated by a Higher Beingwho also rapes him, mistrusted by everyone, called a freak, made to feel likean outsider and broken so badly that he is driven to murder and suicide.

I knowthe fandom finds Connor whiney and bratty, but really, can you blame him? Look at all this shit the poor kid goes through!And throughout all of this, he literally has no one to turn to, no one in hiscorner, whom he trusts, whom he feels he can go to for advice or support.Honestly, I always have massive amounts of sympathy for Connor, as his entirelife is one big trauma. Poor kid.

[starrymused]

[ CANON ]

IVY UNIVERSITY.

Age: 21 - 24 Attending Ivy University to study art and law, Phoenix fell for a pretty redhead named Dahlia Hawthorne. He dated her for eight months (unaware that he was actually with her twin sister, Iris.) However, the real Dahlia soon killed a fellow student and framed Phoenix. He met with Mia Fey who became his lawyer. She proved him innocent and uncovered the truth of the case. Inspired, Phoenix decides to pursue law full-time with Mia as his mentor.

TRILOGY.

Age: 24 - 26 Phoenix became a lawyer at the age of 24, working under Mia at the "Fey & Co. Law Offices". Unfortunately, his mentor was murdered just a month after his first trial. He inherited the firm and renamed it "Wright & Co. Law Offices". He took on Maya Fey as his assistant and continued to take trials, proving his clients innocent. He managed to save his childhood friend, Miles Edgeworth, and also uncovered the truth of the DL-6 and SL-9 Incidents.

DISBARMENT.

Age: 26 - 33 In 2019, Phoenix unknowingly presented forged evidence and was disbarred. The client he had been defending disappeared on the stand, leaving behind a young daughter. Phoenix decided to adopt her after failing to find any close kin. He soon found employment as a poker player at the Borscht Bowl Club, but posed as their piano player, too. For the next seven years, he conducted a secret investigation to find out who forged that evidence. In the end, he uncovered the truth and cleared his name.

MENTOR.

Age: 33 onwards Phoenix successfully retook the bar exam and was re-instated as a lawyer. With both Apollo Justice and Athena Cykes under his employment, he renamed the office to the ‘Wright Anything Agency'. They worked together on cases, eventually managing to free Simon Blackquill and taking necessary steps towards overcoming the Dark Age of the Law. After experiencing what the courts are like in the Kingdom of Khura'in, Phoenix has said goodbye to Apollo who has decided to stay there to help them rebuild their broken system.

[ AU ]

CHEF.

Age: 28

Chef Wright has been in the culinary business for 10+ years and has made a name for himself worldwide. He studied in France for 3 years before returning to America to open a few restaurants. He now has a TV show named 'Kitchen Nightmares' where he visits many different restaurants to help them out of bad situations.

He has gained a loyal fanbase who keep up to date with his projects and tune in every week to watch his show. There are rumors of him writing his own book, but he isn't quite ready to go down that road yet.

HITMAN.

Age: 27 - 30 Raised by his emotionally detached father, Phoenix is trained in the family business. By the time he reaches adulthood, he is already a master of his craft and has always been able to see a job through to the end. He has ties to the mafia but mainly operates as a lone wolf. He has broadened his horizons and has begun doing deals with members of the elite. As long as they follow his rules he'll remain loyal to them until the contract has been fulfilled.

YOUTUBER.

Age: 22 

A popular Youtuber who is simply known as "The Storyteller". His main channel is called "Chilling Tales for Dark Nights" and he sits in an armchair in an "abandoned haunted mansion" (which is actually his grandparents' home that he uses as a set). He tells terrifying true stories as well as creepypastas. However, he also does his own investigations and research into crimes as well as checking out creepy/haunted locations (where he sometimes spends the night). This all takes place on his second channel called "Into the Unknown". Despite his creepy persona, he is actually a happy young man with many friends. He lives in downtown L.A and is studying to be a lawyer while making his videos. Being a YouTuber is fun, but he doesn't want to do it for a career.

VIGILANTE.

Age: 28 A vigilante who goes by the alias "Shade". Brought up in a dystopian world where the corrupt government (The System) favors the rich and beats down the poor, Phoenix was born in a jail cell after his rebel mother was arrested. He was shipped off to an orphanage where he was mistreated by the matron for being a "rebel's offspring". With his parents' whereabouts unknown, he runs away at age 15 and spends his time surviving the streets. With skills ranging from combat to thievery and his new alias, Phoenix seeks to end the reign of The System and give back to the poor while knocking down the rich folk at the top. Despite hating any kind of authority, he does have a moral code and will try to avoid killing unless absolutely necessary.

TATTOO ARTIST.

Age: 30 After being disbarred, Phoenix became a tattoo artist. Once he was qualified he sold the office and got himself a little shop in downtown L.A. and called it Firebird Ink. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it, but he has a few regular customers and makes a modest living. He also does commissions for extra money. He also works on his investigation during his free time, still eager to clear his name. It’s slow progress, but he’s determined to find out the truth of what happened.

CAPTAIN.

Age: 27

With his trusty crew, Phoenix sails the seas in search of treasure left behind on secluded islands. During these travels, he comes across a wide range of people and creatures (some that he hadn't known existed!). He hopes to save enough gold to make the future bright for his daughter. After all, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life as a pirate and would like to retire and live a quiet life one day.

ESCORT.

Age: 30 After being disbarred, Phoenix turned to the world of male escorts after Larry suggested it. At first, he was against it because he thought it would involve sexual practices, but he learns that there are different types. He decides to go for one that simply means being company for women (e.g going to parties, going on dates, hanging out, cuddling/kissing, buying them presents, etc.) It pays REALLY well considering most women are upper class. He treats women with respect and ensures that proper rules and boundaries are established right away. He has a manager for this, though, who meets with the women before anything occurs.

[agentredfort]

ruby redfort fic masterlist

What is this- geek central?

welcome to the Ruby Redfort fic masterlist, where I do my very best to collect every single bit of fic that’s out there on the internet for your convenience!

I’m not listing these based on quality (and besides, there’s not exactly a lot out there so i can’t pick and choose) so there’s going to be a wide range of fics in this list. any fics that I especially like will be marked as [PERSONAL FAVORITE]. any fics that I’ve added in recently will be marked as [*NEW*]. ships will be tagged!

if there’s any fics that you’ve noticed I’ve missed- or if you’ve written something yourself!- either shoot me an ask or a message via Tumblr and I’ll add it straight away. 

Onwards!

A Guide To Love For A Bozo [wattpad] by TeamSpectrum [multichapter, ongoing] Ruby/Clancy

This is a cluby fan-fic written by Agent Baker. Take a look to find out what happens.

despite the sparse description, this is actually pretty good.

Always [ff.net] by mockingjay341 [Oneshot, complete!]

Ruby is suffering from nightmares, but Clancy will always be there to make her feel better.

hella sweet. ruby needs a hug

Aren’t We All a Bit of a Bozo? [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [oneshot, complete!] Hitch/OC 

Heather looked across at Lydia as they ate their morning toast. “LB reckons there is going to be a new coding agent today, some kid. You know, the one Hitch is looking after.”

interesting concept!! 

Bozo [wattpad] by Kaya_Tano [multichapter, ongoing] Clancy/Ruby

Ruby Redfort, a thirteen year old Spectrum Agent, is facing more than just trouble at work. Her hormones are raging and her best friend Clancy Crew has fallen for her, hard. But Ruby doesn't notice because she is too busy trying to solve her latest case at Spectrum, and how will she cope when one of her closest friends is killed by the notorious murderer The Count, who is supposed to be in a high security prison? And who is the mole at Spectrum who is leaking information to him?

 not bad. i’m not a big fan of the ‘spectrum pairs ruby up with a cute boy her age’ plot, but this seems to be decently-written.

Changed at Birth [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [Twoshot, now complete!] Background Hitch/Blacker 

“They said mum should have killed me with iron,” whispers Ruby.

the folk tale au i never knew i wanted tbh. only halfway done at the moment but it’s such a cool concept and it fits really well??

Convincing LB [wattpad] by Jasmine3103 [Oneshot, complete!]

I really wanted to know what Hitch said in CYD to convince LB to give Ruby another chance. So here is my version.

this was a really good missing scene sorta fic! give it some love if you’ve got a chance, the author seems really lonely to me

Family Ain't Just Blood [ao3] [tumblr] by celestialskies [Oneshot, complete!] [*NEW*]

Ruby looked up, aware that she probably looked like someone had tried to rock her to sleep by dragging her through a hedge backwards several times. Six hours of sleep over three days can do that to a person.

"Couldn't sleep," she muttered. In her tired state, she barely noticed Hitch's expression shift from one of surprise surprise and mild amusement to one of concern.

Ruby can't sleep, and Hitch steps in.

goddamn, i’m always a sucker for unconventional family stories. i actually squealed when I saw this one, which should give you  a pretty good idea of how much i enjoyed it

Five times Clancy Crew chained his bikes to Ruby Redfort’s and one time he didn’t [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [Oneshot, complete!]  [PERSONAL FAVORITE] 

The first time it was a mistake- honestly the chain accidentally went through the frame and well, it only held Ruby up temporarily.

this is really hecking cute and is just generally really great. it made me smile a lot. please check it out

Grains of Sand and Love [tumblr] by  blackers-donuts [Oneshot, complete!] Ruby/Clancy

Being sixteen suddenly brought the barbecues on the beach, adolescent drinking and all the drama that it comes with.

it’s no secret by now that I love this author, this is soft and lovely and good and you should really read it

High School Sweethearts [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [Oneshot, complete!] [PERSONAL FAVORITE] Ruby/Del, Hitch/Blacker

There was no way you could look between Blacker and Hitch and think ‘brothers’.

short and oh so very sweet. i think i’m crying. this one is so good, my gay little heart is appeased

hold on tight [wattpad] by w0nderland-writing [multichapter, ongoing]

Ruby Redfort never gets a break, and in this story Ruby goes on an epic adventure in the Grand Canyon.

pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. a bit scattered but mostly coherent.

In which Ruby was right to worry [ao3] by Wolfiethepretzel [oneshot, Complete!] [*NEW*] [PERSONAL FAVORITE]

Froghorn was a constant nuisance in Ruby's life. But as soon as he disappeared she realized she'd rather him be about.

perfect Ruby characterization and some really hecking good bonding/character development. if you read nothing else on this list, at least check this one out.

Look Into His Eyes And Take Your Last Breath [wattpad] by WARNINGwhovian [very long, complete!] Clancy/Ruby, background LB/Baker [PERSONAL FAVORITE]

Meet Ruby Redfort, a super cool teenage wannabe spy. She's been through thick and thin and survived things from a giant sand timer to a legendary sea monster to invisible thieves to mythical wolves. She's already one of the most experienced agents in her agency, Spectrum, without even being an official one yet. She thinks she seen it all. But Ruby's entering a dangerous stage of life where she is vulnerable to many things, lots of things she knows nothing about. But Ruby is unduly worried about the years to come. She's a dauntless girl. But when things start to go wrong in her social life, her agent training in Spectrum and the return of an old foe start kicking off and suddenly, everything happens at once. And Ruby is faced with a choice. A dream job at a top secret spy agency with an astronomical pay, or a scrawny boy who doesn't believe in a dangerous life. Ruby Redfort, the choice is yours.

to my knowledge, the only completed longfic in the fandom so far. although it could do with a bit of editing, the quality is overall excellent and there’s some twists in there that even i wasn’t expecting. I especially loved the Ruby-Hitch dynamic and interactions in this one. If you’ve got a spare hour or two, I definitely recommend that you check it out!

Riding the Rails [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [Oneshot, complete!] Crossover with Railhead 

“The Guardians want you, Ms Redfort,” says a station worker as Ruby stops her game of Rock paper scissors with Zen.

I can honestly say I’ve never heard of Railhead before, but was super cool nonetheless. it feels super surreal and the details were a+++- go check it out

Rosetta Redfort: Freefall [wattpad] by TeamSpectrum [multichapter, ongoing] background Clancy/Ruby

Ruby's daughter, Rosetta, discovers her secret-Spectrum.  A conspiracy to steal a gem that will lead to a collapsing mountain and a giant flood.  Will Rosetta crack like a diamond under pressure or will she stand strong?

an interesting take on a future-fic. might not be everyone’s cup of tea but i kind of liked it.

Love is blind, well Ruby is. [ao3]  [tumblr] by Neondragon54 [Oneshot, complete!] Blacker/Hitch

It's well known to the entirety of Spectrum not to go into the coding room after Hitch had returned from a mission. Everyone (Blacker) is distracted and more than once has an important agent (LB) walked in on two agents kissing.

Ruby doesn't know this rule.

Goddamnit, now I’m invested in this ship. this is also super good, read it.

Movie Night [tumblr] by goldstarsforall [Oneshot, complete!] [*NEW*] Blacker/Hitch

They got to the cinema a lot earlier than either of the men expected. It was a clear night, the air felt crisp and clean and if they hadn’t booked Hitch would have just wanted to sit in the park and talk.

heckin’ cute lil’ oneshot. a Good Ship. a Good Fic.

Ruby Redfort: Don't Look Around [wattpad] by maybeitsdella [multichapter, ongoing]

Welcome back Ruby Redfort: every smart kid's smart kid. 

After making Larva, Ruby Redfort's career in espionage is sending her off the ground running. There's no time to sit at home, with Clancy (who might just have a crush on her), sipping on banana milk, watching Crazy Cops. Not when the Count is still out there, and not when the Silent G is just sitting there waiting for her to fail (or die).

A promising start, this fic looks quite interesting. It’s only got a few chapters so far but I’m definitely going to be following it closely

Ruby's Rule 6 [ff.net] by mockingjay341 [Multi-chapter, ongoing!] [PERSONAL FAVORITE]

Ruby and Clancy have each other's backs - no matter what. So what will they do when they realise that sometimes our greatest strengths can also be our biggest weaknesses?

hell yeah, multi-chapter!! i really love how Ruby and Clancy bounce off each other so far, it feels super real. I’m honestly looking forward to reading more from this author. i haven’t felt this excited for a fic in a while

Silence Is Golden [tumblr] by blackers-donuts  [Oneshot, complete!] [PERSONAL FAVORITE]

There was a sharp knock at the door. Ruby was finally going to bury the hatchet with Froghorn by asking him for help. 

this is possibly the softest thing i’ve read in my entire hecking life. basically just the code team chilling around and bonding and honestly it’s just so sweet and good

Some kinda death wish [ff.net] by Bubbly Washing Machine [Oneshot, complete!]  [PERSONAL FAVORITE] 

They stood at the bottom of the stairs, in the dark, and argued. "Rube, don't go up there," said Clancy desperately, "just wait for the rest of the team." "Look bozo, someone's gotta take her out before she catches on and splits the scene." Clancy looked her in the eye, pleading. "Please. Wait for backup."

Beautiful little character study- cute and poignant.

Sweating Is Totally (not) Necessary [tumblr] by blackers-donuts [Oneshot, complete!] [*NEW*] [PERSONAL FAVORITE] Blacker/Hitch, Ruby/Del

The phone finally picked up, Ruby knew it was still Clancy’s first few weeks at the desk of Buzz and he was getting a grip with the phone system but it really should be quicker.

This wonderful person wrote this for my birthday, so of course I freaking love it. it’s a great character study and just generally all-round a Good Thing- there was a coding segment midway through that I particularly enjoyed!!

Other Things

The TeamSpectrum Collection on Wattpad- an assortment of short fics, competitions and discussions that’s been put together by a whole lot of users, including me! Definitely worth checking out. 

My own wide very small assortment of fanfiction, located over on this page! it’s not included here on the masterlist because- well, posting my own stuff is a tiny bit awkward- but i hope you read and enjoy my work all the same

My ongoing Social Media AU can be found here. 

LAST UPDATED: 14/08/2017

[brajeshupadhyay]

Newsom says COVID-19 data is correct after administration shakeup

Responding to one of California’s biggest setbacks since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, Gov. Gavin Newsom on Monday said his administration has fixed a public health computer database failure that distorted test results across the state and raised doubts about actions taken to stem the spread of coronavirus.

Newsom faced reporters for the first time since he touted the inaccurate data as a positive sign of fewer infections a day before the glitches became public. The governor said he was unaware of the problem, even though state health officials warned counties about data issues days earlier.

On Sunday, the state announced the abrupt departure of Dr. Sonia Angell, the director of the California Department of Public Health, the agency in charge of collecting the electronic test results.

“These things are unfortunate, but we are moving forward,” Newsom told reporters during a news briefing Monday in Sacramento. “I’m governor. The buck stops with me.”

Newsom declined to say whether he asked Angell to resign and sidestepped a question about her leadership of the agency during the pandemic. He said he felt it was appropriate to accept her resignation.

“She resigned. She wrote a resignation letter, and I accepted her resignation,” Newsom said. “We’re all accountable in our respective roles for what happens underneath us.”

Newsom blamed the issues with the California Reportable Disease Information Exchange, or CalREDIE, on the state’s archaic technology systems and cited similar processing delays and problems at the Department of Motor Vehicles and the state Employment Development Department, which has faced sharp criticism for failing to process unemployment insurance applications filed by millions of out-of-work Californians. The governor said replacing those systems is one of this administration’s top priorities.

Rob Stutzman, a Republican consultant and former communications director to Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger, said Newsom’s explanation Monday on the data failure and Angell’s departure fell far short of the public accountability Californians deserve.

“It took him a week to stand in front of Californians and address this issue,” Stutzman said. “…He owes a better explanation of the Sunday night massacre that led to her departure.”

Dr. Mark Ghaly, California’s health and human services director, said between 250,000 and 300,000 test results had not been uploaded to the database, and that the malfunction began on July 25. Ghaly said all of those problems have been fixed, all backlogged data have been processed, and that the information had been shared with county health officials across the state.

To ensure that the state doesn’t experience similar breakdowns, computing capacity was increased fourfold at CalREDIE, the electronic disease reporting and surveillance system overseen by the California Department of Public Health, Ghaly said.

Still, the Newsom administration’s decisions on which counties would be allowed to resume activities and reopen schools and businesses, including restaurants, was based in part on positive coronavirus test data.

Los Angeles Mayor Eric Garcetti last week expressed frustration over the state’s unreliable test results and said the problem may have been much more extensive than revealed by the Newsom administration.

“We don’t believe that it’s something that just happened in the last two or three weeks. The state has told us that these reporting problems may have been throughout [the pandemic],” Garcetti told reporters Wednesday. “So it would be, I think, wrong to conclude that somehow numbers have come down because the reporting system just in the last two weeks has changed. This is something that they’ve uncovered that probably has been with us since months ago.”

On Friday, Ghaly said that a server outage caused a delay in health records flowing into CalREDIE and that mistakes by the administration exacerbated the problem.

“The governor has directed a full investigation of what happened and we will hold people accountable,” Ghaly said last week.

After the July 25 server outage caused a delay in processing data, the state implemented “technical changes that allowed the records to flow into the system more quickly,” Ghaly said. The changes needed to be disabled later, but weren’t, which caused “further delays in our reporting of lab data and creating an extensive backlog,” he said.

Officials also discovered that Quest Diagnostics, one of the biggest labs in the state, was unable to report lab data to the system for five days from July 31 through Aug. 4, further skewing the data. Ghaly said the state failed to renew a certificate that allowed Quest to transmit information into the system.

The California Department of Public Health told counties of a data problem in a July 31 email and referenced an earlier notice about the issue. Newsom said he was not aware of the data inaccuracies when he described a steep drop in positive test results as a good sign three days later.

County officials had also raised questions about the data for months. Ghaly said on Friday that he’s working to understand communication issues at California Health and Human Services and the California Department of Public Health.

Without an accurate picture of confirmed cases, many local officials who rely on the CalREDIE system had to conduct their own tallies to understand how the virus spread in their communities. Several counties throughout the state are applying for waivers to reopen schools. That allowance, like state permission for counties to reopen certain businesses, relies heavily on data tied to case counts and hospitalizations.

After officials discovered the data backlog, the state stopped adding and removing counties from its watchlist of areas experiencing higher rates of transmission, which subjects them to more restrictions than parts of California with lower caseloads. Thirty-eight counties, representing 97% of the state’s population, are on the list.

Newsom said he is confident that the updated statewide data on the rate of positive coronavirus tests will “look favorable,” and cited other public health indicators showing a decline in COVID-19-related hospitalizations.

More than 10,000 Californians have died from COVID-19, and 560,000 have been diagnosed with the virus. The pandemic has put millions of Californians out of work, decimated the economy and is forcing most California schools to shut down classrooms and begin the academic year using distance learning programs. The Los Angeles Dodgers and other professional sports teams are playing games in stadiums and arenas without fans and, to lessen the risks of the virus spreading on election day, all registered California voters will receive a mail-in ballot.

Angell, the state’s departing director of public health, appeared alongside Newsom in his public briefings on the state’s efforts to combat the pandemic. She was considered a key player in the state’s coordination with local public health departments across California and, as the state’s top public health officer, was responsible for issuing the statewide mask mandate.

Appointed department director and state public health officer by Newsom in October, she was the first Latina to serve in the role. Angell announced her departure, effective immediately, in an email to staff on Sunday night. She did not give a reason for her resignation in the letter. Her salary in the position was $275,650, more than Newsom makes as governor.

Before taking the job in California, Angell was deputy commissioner at the New York City Department of Public Health and Mental Hygiene and previously worked as a senior advisor for the global noncommunicable disease unit at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

Her job responsibilities will be split between two women, state officials said: Sandra Shewry will take over as acting director of the Department of Public Health, and Dr. Erica Pan will shift to become the acting state public health officer after having joined the state’s public health department in June as the state’s epidemiologist.

Shewry, who is vice president at the nonprofit California Health Care Foundation, previously oversaw the state’s Medi-Cal program under Schwarzenegger. Pan, who previously was Alameda County Public Health’s Officer, notably clashed with Tesla’s Elon Musk in May over the electric car factory’s decision to restart production despite shelter-at-home orders at the time.

Sen. Richard Pan (D-Sacramento), who is not related to Dr. Erica Pan, said he understands the need to temporarily split Angell’s job into two positions, but that the roles should not be separated for long.

“You need to have one voice, a person who is speaking as the state’s public health officer who oversees the state’s public health department,” said Pan, a pediatrician. “Otherwise, it reduces the authority of the state’s public health officer.”

He said turnover in the top ranks of the state’s public health department is significant.

“It’s a loss to suddenly have the director and state’s public health officer leave during a pandemic,” Pan said. “It’s critical for the governor and administration to ensure there is confidence in the public health leadership … The data issue has undermined confidence and you suddenly have the director leaving, which raises questions as to why. The administration needs to explain the issue that led to this.”

Times staff writers John Myers and Dakota Smith contributed to this report.

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via Blogger https://ift.tt/2XPRdp3

[lodelss]

An Indigenous Woman Made it to Safety in the US. DHS Won’t Let it Go.

When Flor got word that she was going to be able to make her way into the U.S. and reunite with her family last May, she was ecstatic. For more than nine months, Flor and her five-year-old daughter had been stuck in Matamoros, Mexico, living inside a two-person tent in a squalid refugee camp near the U.S. border while they waited for an immigration judge to hear their asylum claim.   Flor — whose full name is being omitted for her safety — and her daughter were among the roughly 60,000 asylum seekers who’d been trapped in Mexico under the Trump administration’s “Migrant Protection Protocols” (MPP).   The months she spent in Matamoros were a nightmare.Temperatures oscillated between blazing heat during the day and frigid cold at night. One of those nights, she and her daughter huddled in their tent as the sound of a gun battle between police and a local drug cartel echoed through the streets. Another time, Flor says men cornered her and demanded extortion payments. When she failed to pay, she was violently assaulted.   So when Flor heard that she and her daughter were going to be allowed to enter the U.S., the where they could continue the asylum process under the care of relatives in Massachusetts, she felt like she was being given a new lease on life.   “I don’t know how to express the happiness I felt,” she said. “Knowing that we would be happy, at ease, and safe…I don’t know if you could understand it.”   By May 2020, being allowed to enter the U.S. as an asylum seeker was akin to a miracle.    The Coronavirus pandemic was raging in the U.S., and hearings for cases like hers had been indefinitely postponed, stranding thousands of asylum seekers in cities across Mexico with no idea when immigration courts would start hearing their claims again. In March, the Centers for Disease Control had caved under pressure from the Trump administration and issued a dubious public health order that allowed border officials to eject asylum seekers from the country almost instantaneously. By late Spring, America’s asylum system had essentially ceased to exist.

A Guatemalan asylum seeker and her two daughters are expelled from the U.S. into Ciudad Juarez under the CDC’s Title 42 order, April 2, 2020.

Paul Ratje

But in Massachusetts, Flor’s family’s plea for help had reached the ACLU of Massachusetts. They were desperate – the stories she told them about the situation in the camp were increasingly dire, and they feared for her life and that of her young daughter. ACLU attorneys in the state and nationally had already brought litigation against the MPP, and they decided to take her case along with a coalition of other advocates.   Flor joined two other women — one of whom also had a five-year-old child — as plaintiffs in the case, which argued that putting them in the MPP was illegal and inhumane. In the following weeks, attorneys for the ACLU in Massachusetts interviewed Flor and the other two women via cell phone. Flor would charge hers ahead of time in a communal charging station at the camp.   “It was only after talking to them on the phone for a really long time, sometimes ten hours, that they felt comfortable enough to share some of the things that they had been through,” said Adriana Lafaille, a staff attorney with the ACLU of Massachusetts.   Flor is from Guatemala and is Maya K’iche’ — a member of an Indigenous group from the country’s remote highlands. Throughout Guatemalan history, Maya K’iche’ and other Indigenous groups have been the target of discrimination and violence at the hands of politically dominant Spanish-descended Guatemalans, sometimes called “Ladinos.”   In recent years, that violence has surged, with conflicts erupting between Mayan communities and prospectors with their eye on valuable mineral deposits beneath Indigenous land.   Flor’s father was a vocal advocate for Indigenous rights, and she says she suffered as a result. After he was attacked and incapacitated, she began working as a maid in a Ladino household at the age of 10. She suffered repeated abuse at the hands of her employers, and, at 19, was violently attacked by a group of men who demanded information about her uncles.   By mid-2019, she knew it was time to leave.   “I realized that my daughter and I would never be able to escape persecution in Guatemala, and we fled,” she recounted in an affidavit.   But by the time the COVID-19 crisis erupted, Flor had been in the Matamoros refugee camp for nearly eight months. Her daughter was losing weight, saying she was too sad to eat, and Flor feared the men who’d assaulted her might return.

Refugee camp for migrants and asylum seekers in Matamoros, Mexico, October 2019.

Guillermo Arias for the ACLU.

In May, Flor received a phone call from her attorneys. A federal judge had ruled in her favor, granting the ACLU’s request for her to be taken out of the MPP. She and her daughter would be joining a small handful of people who’d escaped the policy.   Flor’s attorneys feared she might be sent to an immigration detention facility instead of being released to her family in Massachusetts. But after only a single night in detention, she and the others were released. For Lafaille, it was a hard-fought win in an era where the courts have often thwarted efforts to block the Trump administration’s harsh immigration policies.   “We were all just so relieved,” she said. “For our clients, it was an end to this incredibly difficult ordeal and a long period of such hardship and uncertainty.”   Flor and her daughter settled into life in Massachusetts. The pandemic was still raging, so mostly they stayed inside, but occasionally she accompanied her aunt to the park or grocery store.   “It’s so peaceful here,” she said. “I feel a tranquility that I have never experienced in my life. I’m treated nicely by people.”   But it quickly became apparent that lawyers from the Department of Homeland Security were not going to accept the loss and move on. Not long after Flor and the others arrived in Massachusetts, Lafaille received notice that the government planned to appeal the decision. By mid-summer, COVID-19 had arrived in shelters across the U.S.-Mexico border, as well as in the refugee camp where Flor spent nearly a year. Despite the rise in cases in Mexico, DHS refused to relent — the agency pressed on with the appeal, seeking the power to send Flor, her daughter, and the others back to Mexico immediately.   Lafaille says that the appeal is a symbol of just how hostile the federal government has become towards asylum seekers under the Trump administration.   “Not only has the government claimed that our clients weren’t facing urgent harms in Mexico,” she said. “But after our clients were here in Massachusetts, DHS also asserted that the appeal had to be expedited because it was the government that was being harmed by having to allow these three women and two children — who they never contended were dangerous in any way — to live in safety with their families.”   Because of DHS’s appeal, Flor isn’t just facing the daunting task of presenting an asylum claim in immigration court — she’s fighting to prevent her and her daughter from being forced to do so from a tent inside a refugee camp during a pandemic.   Flor says she has to find ways to distract herself from the prospect.   “I tell myself that I shouldn’t think about that,” she said. “When I do, I try to think about other things instead.”   The ACLU of Massachusetts argued against DHS’s appeal in front of the First Circuit Court of Appeals on Oct. 6. Even in an era where the federal government is using every avenue it can to prevent asylum seekers from entering the country, she says the appeal stands out.   “It just shows a government that is totally devoid of humanity,” said Lafaille. “In the government’s eyes, the MPP is working because it is so devastating to asylum seekers that many simply cannot make it to their hearings, and their claims are deemed abandoned. They want the process to be so hard and dangerous in Mexico that people just give up.” Until the First Circuit rules on the appeal, Flor and the other new arrivals are stuck in limbo, hoping they’ll be allowed to remain safe and out of harm’s way. “The thing I wish for the most, what I ask God for, is to not be sent back to Mexico,” she said. The ACLU of Massachusetts is co-counseling this case with the firm Fish & Richardson. Flor has been represented in her immigration case by the Law Office of Jodi Goodwin in Harlingen, Texas, and is now represented by Greater Boston Legal Services and the Harvard Immigration and Refugee Clinic. In the First Circuit, the plaintiffs’ position was supported by National Citizenship and Immigration Services Council 119, represented by Patterson Belknap Webb & Tyler LLP; former government officials including Janet Napolitano, Roberta Jacobson and James Clapper, represented by WilmerHale; and a coalition of legal service providers and organizations, represented by the Law Office of Joshua M. Daniels.

Published October 12, 2020 at 04:00PM via ACLU https://ift.tt/3iTOXF3

[phgq]

Pregnant NPA rebel meets mom 2 years after leaving home

#PHnews: Pregnant NPA rebel meets mom 2 years after leaving home

BUTUAN CITY – A pregnant New People’s Army (NPA) rebel who surrendered in the Agusan del Norte town of Buenavista was finally reunited with her mother on Sunday (May 31) at the Army's 23rd Infantry Battalion headquarters based in the said town. Alias "Wena", 18, together with another pregnant NPA alias “Apay”, 38, were rescued by the Army's 23rd Infantry Battalion after residents in Sitio Cabalalahan informed the Army of their presence in Barangay Guinabsan, Buenavista, on May 16. The two were left behind by their companions at the house of an alleged rebel supporter following the military operations against the rebels after the May 10, 2020 firefight that killed 15 NPA combatants. “I thank Dina (name concealed for security reasons) for paying a visit to her daughter who is already four months pregnant. During this time, her daughter, who is only 18, needs utmost care from a mother,” Lt. Col. Francisco Molina, the commander of 23rd IB, told Philippine News Agency on Monday (June 1). Molina said the 23IB arranged the reunification of Wena and her mother "whom she did not see for nearly two years since she joined the NPA movement". In an interview with her daughter on Sunday, Dina said she was grateful her daughter is still alive despite the dangers she faced while with the rebels. Dina, 51 said Wena, the seventh among her nine children, was recruited by the NPA when she was 16 while studying in Buenavista National High School. “She was a working student and already in Grade 9 when she ran away together with a friend who was an NPA member. I want her to finish her schooling but I failed. She was lured by her friend to join the NPA,” Dina said. She said that aside from Wena, two other members of her family were taken by the NPA, to include her husband and a son. “I have not seen my husband and my son for three years now. I heard words that they were among those killed during the encounter last May 10. I already lost contact with them,” Dina said. NPA destroys families Dina said she experienced hardships raising her family without her husband. “We first stayed in Sitio Bulak, Olave, Agusan del Norte but life was very difficult there considering the distance from the town center. A relative helped me transfer to Sitio Dalao-an where my family is allowed to farm inside a 20-hectare land. Now I am growing corn, cassava, and vegetables to sustain our daily needs,” Dina said. She added that of her nine children, only three are left in her care as the others had already settled with their families in other provinces. “It is hard to stand as family head without the support of a husband. I cannot understand why the NPA has to take husbands and children, even minors, to join their fight against the government,” Dina said. She said she has long been aware of the presence of the NPA in their area and was also convinced by the rebels to join them. “What will happen to my remaining children if I join them? They will die of hunger. I was resolved then, deep in my heart, not to join the NPA,” Dina said, adding that she tried to stop her husband from joining the NPA but failed. “He was mad at me as I was trying to stop him and my son. He was very angry with me. So I just stopped convincing them. And then one day they left us,” Dina said. She said she was even more heartbroken upon learning that Wena also joined the communist rebels. “How I wish I have a complete family. It’s only in a dream as the NPA movement took them away from me. Now I do not know if they are still alive,” Dina said. A mother's appeal If given a chance to face the NPA, Dina said her appeal to them would be to stop recruiting the youth and help communities in preserving families. “When my family members left to join the NPA movement, all I did was cry. There was nothing I could do,” Dina said. She said the NPA leadership regularly spreads false promises in their community, "spreading lies" about the support they supposedly give to the families of their combatants. “What support? They are lying. For more than three years that my husband and son, and lately my daughter were with them, not a single centavo reached our home from them. I have to exert efforts to do farm work and paid daily to earn money. I need to plant crops hoping for some harvest to earn some income. That’s the truth,” Dina said.

STOP THE RECRUITMENT. Dina (her name is concealed for security reasons) appeals to the communist New People's Army to stop recruiting minors and young people as she criticizes the rebels for destroying her own family. Dina is reunited with her daughter, a pregnant former member of the NPA, on Sunday (May 31) at the headquarters of the Army's 23rd Infantry Battalion in Buenavista, Agusan del Norte. (PNA photo by Alexander Lopez)

She said if her husband or son would call her in the coming days, she will again convince them to go home and surrender. Dina also asked the youth to “think first and consider your families and future” and not be easily persuaded by the NPA recruitment. She also expressed gratitude to the 23IB for taking care of her pregnant daughter. “After giving birth, I want her to continue her studies. She told me about the difficulties she experienced while inside the NPA movement. I hope she already learned lessons,” Dina said. In an interview on Monday, Molina renewed his call for families whose sons and daughters are still inside the NPA movement to convince them to abandon the NPA and return to their homes. “The government is always ready to accept you, so as your families and communities. While you have still time, decide now to go back to the fold of the law,” Molina said. He also made it clear that the Army will sustain its military operations against NPA combatants in the area. “We are committed to perform our mandate as soldiers. We will pursue you as we continue to secure our communities from your terroristic activities. Surrender now before it is too late,” Molina said. The NPA is listed as a terrorist organization by the United States, European Union, the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the Philippines. (PNA)

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References:

* Philippine News Agency. "Pregnant NPA rebel meets mom 2 years after leaving home." Philippine News Agency. https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1104541 (accessed June 02, 2020 at 02:14AM UTC+14).

* Philippine News Agency. "Pregnant NPA rebel meets mom 2 years after leaving home." Archive Today. https://archive.ph/?run=1&url=https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1104541 (archived).