#hope they share a house again in Brazil! traditions

[artemispt]

LANDOS BIRTHDAY IS THE WEEK BETWEEN BRAZIL AND VEGAS… We know what always happens the before or after Brazil… it’s giving holiday, birthday, vegas, chapel…

… Abu Dhabi… winter break/honeymoon…

[kenobiwanx]

Happy New Year!!! 🌟

First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you. Thank you for supporting me and my art. This past year was a good one for me, and that's thanks to all of you!

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live by my art. This is my full-time job��it’s what pays my bills. And 2024 started off great: I received commissions every single month, something that hadn’t happened in previous years. That was a huge change for me, truly life-changing. I’m so grateful to everyone who decided to spend their money on my art, to trust me with your ideas, characters, and stories. It means SO much to me, and I say this from the bottom of my heart. I put everything I have into creating the best art I can for you, truly. When you message me saying how much you loved it and how much my work means to you, I cry for real. It moves me deeply. So thank you for all the kind words and support.

This is going to be a long message because I feel like I need to thank you and share a bit about myself. So, if you read all of this, you're a warrior, lol.

I don’t usually share much about myself or my personal life, but here are a few things. Well, I’m from Brazil—you probably already know that. I’m a self-taught artist, and honestly, I’m like that with everything I know how to do. I love learning on my own with the resources I have available. When I set my mind on doing something, I go all in. Drawing came into my life as a form of therapy, a way to focus on something other than my negative thoughts. I’ve always been a very anxious and depressive person and went through a lot of trauma that made things worse. Since I didn’t have the resources or support to seek professional help, I tried to find my own way—and that’s how I learned to draw!

I won’t say I’m 100% okay now because life hasn’t been easy for me. I lost my mom to breast cancer six years ago, and it had a massive impact on me and my mental health. She was my rock, my world, and losing her was devastating. She fought the disease for five years, and during that time, I was the one taking care of her, keeping the house running, and looking after my two younger siblings. I was just a teenager, but I suddenly had so many responsibilities. It messed me up a lot, but if I had to do it all over again just to have more time with my mom, I would.

I wish she were here to see how far I’ve come with my art because she was the only one who supported me back then. I know she’d be so proud of me for not giving up.

I used to do realistic traditional art before, spending a whole month on one piece. It was fun for a while, but it was just a hobby—I only sold a few pieces to family members. Then, in 2020, during the pandemic, I decided to switch to digital art. I wanted something that gave me more freedom to express myself creatively, and digital art offers that. So, I started learning. And guess who became my muse for this journey?

Yep, Pedro Pascal, lol. From my very first digital drawing, he was my go-to subject. And let me tell you, those early drawings weren’t great, poor guy, lmao. But thank God, I improved! I’m still drawing him to this day, and he’s been a huge reason I’ve gotten so many commissions since most of them are of his characters. I’m incredibly grateful to him and the roles he plays.

Anyway, I’m working on rebuilding myself, trying to move forward, achieve my goals, and take things step by step. This Christmas, I was able to buy a huge drawing tablet, which was a big milestone for me. I used to do everything on a small tablet, so this was a major upgrade—and it’s all thanks to everyone who commissioned me this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I hope 2025 will be just as good. I hope you’ll all stick with me and keep asking for commissions, lol. I wish you all the best in life, that you achieve everything you dream of, and that you stay healthy. Please take care of your mental health too; it’s just as important as your physical health.

I have a lot of personal projects I want to work on this year—art ideas I’ve set aside for years that I hope to finish in 2025.

This year, I plan to open commissions every month. The only exception will be if my waitlist gets full before I open them officially, like who Dm me to reserve a slot earlier, which happened in December. My DMs are always open!

I’ll also be updating my price sheet, adding new information to my terms and conditions, and increasing my prices. It’s been about two years since I last updated them, so it’s time. But don’t worry—it’ll only be an increase of about $10-$15. I still want to keep my art affordable for everyone.

I’ll sort all of that out in the coming days, so stay tuned for updates!

My January waitlist is already open, and there are a few people in line. If you want to reserve a spot, feel free! Just keep in mind the price adjustment I mentioned earlier.

I think that’s everything! I know this was a lot of text, lmao.

Thank you again, everyone! Happy New Year, and I love you all! And I love you, Pedro Pascal!

[devils-tarot]

The Fool's Journey (1 of 3)

~~~~~~~~~~

Just a Disclaimer: english is not my first language, so there will be mistakes. Sorry about that.

Part 2: is available here.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time... This is how we can start the story of the arcana with no number, The fool. I'll show you one aspect I love the most on the Tarot: its mith.

But first lets get a few things clear before we get to the main subject here. Everything I'm about to tell here is A MITH not a historical event. It holds mysteries on my tradition, and we do not expect it to make sense to everybody.

All I'm about to share is about the Tarot Deck with 78 cards, in wich 22 of them are major arcana and the rest are minors. The story of The Fool goes withing all the major arcana, therefore, the 22 cards all together is the The Fool's Journey.

The first one to tell a story like this was Roberto Caldeira in his book Caminho do Louco, published in Brazil. And one of the aspects of our system towards Tarot is: it tells all the stories, the old ones and the yet to come, so, the one I'm sharing here is my version of it. To see my master's version, get his book.

That being said, here we go. Hope you have fun!

There once was a man who used to live his life like everyone else was. Day by day he did just what everyone was doing: work during the day, ate anything that could look like food, complain about life, complain about others, complain about work, and sleep late in the night just to wake up early next morning to repeat everything, again and again...

One day he woke up, got dressed and walked out the house to go to work when he tripped over his own foot and fell down the stairs. In that moment, while he wasn't neither safe nor on the floor, but somewhere in between, his hole life has passed trough his eyes, and for a fraction of a second it was almost like he was in another reality.

Suddenly, he found himself on a cliff, with a dog chasing him. He quickly noticed his strange clothes and luggage (if we can call it that). Nothing there was understandable to him. He didn't understand what was happening, but overcome by the need to survive, to stay alive, he threw himself off the cliff into the unknown.

This urge to stay alive transformed the man into The Magician.

"OK, Now this?" he thought to himself. He had changed his clothes, had a cape now, everything was so weird. He decided then to open up the bag he was carying, he had to know what was in there...

A sword, a chalice, what seemed to be a disc of gold, and a staff... He knew everything he had carried with him, but what would he do with those was still a mystery.

He than decided he had to keep going, wherever he was going to. This urge kept chasing after him, the urge to live. And so he did. He used the disc as mirror sometimes, had the sword to help on fishing or chasing animals, the staff helped him walk, and the days where going, but not flowing.

He then decided to put his instruments in front of him and did something he had not yet tryed. Observation. And so he stood there, thinking, and in the processes, his mind got free. He was infinite, and he knew it. That moment everything made sense.. He had seen everything, as above so below, and as suddenly as that he changed to The High Priestess.

The Fool is now fully conected and awere of himself in the world. The high priestess has overpassed the mistery, and so our character now understands more of whats happening aroung him. His in some "spiritual existence", or so he thought.

During that time, the Fool got to learn more about his instruments. He then discovered that the sword was all about his soul, his discipline in order to be trustfull. That sword was a reminder that life will train you as a Warior, to fight for your life, for your existence. It's how it works for every being on the planet. We gotta fight for our existence. With discipline.

The chalice was a way of checking his emotions and dealing with them. Remembering to keep his water clean in order not to get thursty! It also showed him that, he was thursty of love, of happiness, of life. Know he could seed that. Oh, and that mirror? Yes, that golden disk reflected him to himself. "Are you worthy? do you feel worthy? what are you wothy for?" As a reminder to forge himself into a better and more beauty version of himself. That just growed bigger and bigger.

That staff became something more to him. Now he had a purpose: to improve. Improve himself for himself. He deserved it! And so he start day by day studying his own life, lookig inside him, fighting his demons.

He was so immersed in the experience he was living, that he barelly saw how much he accomplished. And when he stopet for a bit to look aroung him, everything was diffent. He had became The Empress.

Each achieviment of him was like a child: he was giving birth not to humans, but to his own desire. And there was a bunch of them already, growing all around him. He was no longer thursty for life, or happiness... He started seeing that everything he did had bring something new to his life.

He couldn't be happier. Thouse days were so great he just kept going, chasing his dreams, making them come true. He realized that the urge he felt some time ago was still there, but had chenged, as he did over the time. Something felt different.

He than decided to do what he learned already: ask the universe, life will talk to us. His conection was still on point, and he started to realize he had been manifesting all this glory and life, but where was it? What he had in the end? Was him high? Just as a mother takes responsibility for her children, he needed to take responsibility for his dreams too. It would not be enough to reach them, we must maintain them.

So, our man started to put order in his life. He had a sword, he need to discipline himself. And that made him The Emperror.

Disciplined, our Emperor conquered his life, dominated his daily life facing his main enemy: laziness.

It didn't take long until this whole result catch the attention of the people around. It's not every day that you see a kingdom emerge out of nowhere like this, in your neighbor's backyard. After attracting so much attention, the emperor ended up noticing the society around him.

Thus he observed the people, their customs, and noticed a lot of himself in others. He noticed his old tricks, his struggles, his improvements. They weren't that different, and he could see that.

And suddenly he asked himself: "everything I've been doing, everything I've been fighting for: my wealth, my success, my work, my life, is all of this my will or is it theirs? Who made me?"

Thinking about that, with all the discipline he had learned with the emperor, it was not difficult for him to change again, this time into the Hierofant.

Society is such a complex theme, don't you think? We organize our lifes in so many different ways, with different traditions, with different gods (or its absense). The Fool as deeply mesmerized by the fact that he had been following rules over rules, and all of it was our. We made them. So they made him. That's what he was thinking. He had to do something differente. And so he tried.

He decided to test and question every rule he came across, and in this process a lot happened. He discovered new places, with new people, who had new customs. And when he put into practice what he had learned in the last few months, he came to the same conclusion: Whenever I discover something, I become aware of something, I have the opportunity to dive into it, and when I see results I know: discipline leads to success. The magician, the high priestess, the empress and the emperor had already taught this to the Fool.

Thus he realized that yet another mystery had been revealed: society. Yes, all of us. Our complexity, our characteristics, our possibilities of existence. What do we devote our lives to? He questioned himself rhetorically.

In that moment he wondered, what do I want to do now? And the Lovers he became.

He look up and saw an angel. Was it god? Could it be god? Well, there was no need to worry about the answer. He just asked, and got answered.

After a while, The fool learned so manythings with the angel that got him into thinking that everytime he decided to do something, his wish as blessed by God. Even the bad choices he made was blessed. If life was a road, it sould be a big crossing streets, and the present time is right in the middle of it.

Every decision he made took him somewhere. Some places were goog, other not so much. When he choosed to give himself the attention and care hi needed the things went well. But whenever he let go of his own live, he got lost in his own life.

The should be a mystery, and he was right. He learned that what mooves him is his wishes to became better. He got to understand (finally!!!) the urge he felt. It was DESIRE.

He then realized he was free. Free to choose his own path, to go wherever he wanted. There are so many possibilities for us out there, he tought, and so he decided he was going foward, and that's how he turned into The Chariot.

Now, the angel of life on the previous card had given the Fool a perspective of life, and with an open mind he persued his desire. The star on the forehead show us that he could see the world from a new perspective.

But something was off. The chariot no longer moved. After trying and trying, he only walked in circle. After sometime re realized the problem. One of the animal was going left, the other one right. How could he go anywhere?

Remembering the old days, he decided to put on practice again what he learned, and voilà, something seemed to be working. He could see now, the horses are actually one: he himself. His emotional body and his racional body, materialized outside him. He had to master them, as he did back in the Emperor with his daily routine. Heart and Mind united into one.

Then, without reining in the horses, he climbed into the Chariot. Armed only with his true will, he commanded his instinct and his reason, his rational body and his emotional body. And on he went. And he achieved his goals. And because of this he was transformed and sat on the throne of Justice.

to be continued...

[doublerainbow-if]

RO’s perfect Christmas with MC?

For M, it's the one time of the year where they're actually a bit excited to get out of their place for a bit, their fond memories of going carolling with MC and their folks helping them keep their social anxiety at bay. They will go all over their neighborhood until midnight, basically crashing onto their couch when they get back home. MC will be dragged into their sleepy embrace, the holiday ending with them cuddle up with the their favorite things in the world (ie MC and Athena)

L will be a bit overbearing throughout the month of December since they leave secret gifts for MC all over their apartment, accumulating into a massive gift at midnight on Christmas. They get into a group video call with their folks back in Brazil, since the holidays is very family oriented to them and they haven't missed a call yet. And they get to show off how amazing MC is to their family again, so that's a plus. Despite how their cousins and siblings tease them ruthlessly for their behavior around MC during the call.

B is the one who will curl up with MC for the night and watch old Christmas movies that are paired with cookies and hot coco. But they leave a little candle on their windowsill, a little tradition from their family back home. But they make it a little project with MC if they want to join them, getting the material to make the candle and carve it. They eventually end up sleeping on MC's shoulder in pure contentment, the warmth of the candle and MC letting them sleep easy.

J is, unfortunately, the type to work through Christmas since they need to keep their business up and going. But they will quickly leave once they noticed the time, racing back to their apartment to get everything ready for MC's arrival. They make a fully homemade meal but it's not the traditional fanfare. Expect roasted meats, vegetables, and rice as they set up a mini barbeque in their kitchen. They don't have much for a gift, but they hope the food is good enough.

V might seem odd for this, but they drag MC with them to the Siene. They're a bit nervous as they lead MC to their little spot, a little picnic and care basket set up. V doesn't know why, but it doesn't feel like Christmas without a water nearby. They would have prefer an actual beach but the Siene is a good alternative. They just keep themselves close to MC as the time ticks by, taking in the starry sky and peaceful ambience while teasing a bit for little of fun. They may like MC now but it doesn't mean they're not letting them off the hook.

C had dragged MC with them to pick out a tree before the holidays but it wasn't any "normal" tree. No, they were chopping a tree down for Christmas. C isn't the best in regards with the holidays, but they figured that they could do this with MC by letting them see this more secret side of them. On Christmas day, they showered the MC with affection, jokingly wearing a mistletoe hat as they followed them around. Paired with making the best eggnog this side of the Paris and ending the night with classic Christmas stories.

Avery is a bit manic during the start of the month, their family's teachings making them clean their house top to bottom before the holidays. But they doesn't really celebrate Christmas though, only doing it to exchange gifts with his loved ones and basking in the warm atmosphere. They'll bring MC inside for well cooked dinner, feeling a bit embarrassed since they had to get help from their valet. After dinner, they brings them to the living room, decking it out in traditional holiday decorations and lavish gifts for MC pleasure. They spare no expense in making sure MC has the best Christmas ever, it's after all MC's smile they want for Christmas.

Kahula is a mess in trying to figure out what to do for Christmas. Eventually, they decided on a more simple affair for their crush, since they don't want to scare off MC with their loud personality. However, they wanted to share a part of themselves and their history with MC, especially since they felt so seen and heard by you. So they ended up teaching how to sing to some of their favorite Christmas songs growing up in Hawaii, correcting your pronunciation and tempo as the two fo you sang throughout the night. They shouldn't feel so warm hearing your voice though.

[newmusicradionetwork]

Ian Abel Band Explores Heartache and Hope in Bilingual Rock Single “Stay Here”

Ian Abel Band, fronted by international award-winning guitarist Ian Abel, have shared their new single, “Stay Here,” a Southern rock love song that combines both English and Portuguese. This track blends the raw power of classic rock with the soul of Americana, creating a sound that is both nostalgic and fresh. Known for his passionate guitar playing and compelling lyrics, Ian Abel has once again demonstrated his ability to touch hearts and minds with his music. “Stay Here” is now available to download and stream on platforms worldwide. “Stay Here” was inspired by a brief but impactful romance between Ian Abel and a Brazilian woman who had to return to her country. “Coitadinho de mim, afogando a saudade,” which loosely translates to “poor me, I’m drowning in the sorrow of missing you,” is just a sample of how Abel’s lyrics reflect the deep sense of longing and heartache that comes with such separations. The song’s unique blend of rock and samba elements highlights Abel’s diverse musical influences and his commitment to honoring different musical traditions. “‘Stay Here’ is a love song of unorthodox beginnings,” reveals Abel. “It started out with a short relationship I had with a Brazilian woman who had to go back to Brazil because her student visa expired. It was fairly recent when I went to my friend and co-writer, Westray Tackett’s, house to hang out and work on a completely different song. He showed me a brief snippet of an idea he had (which is the acoustic guitar and vocal part in the intro), and something about the somber nature of that struck me. I asked for the chords, went home, and the song practically wrote itself.” Mixed by Evan Redwine from Nashville, TN, and mastered by GRAMMY-award-winning engineer Alan Douches (Sufjan Stevens, Angel Olsen, Fleetwood Mac) of West West Side Music, the track offers a polished yet deeply emotional listening experience. Ian Abel’s musical journey began at age 15 with a Christmas gift of a guitar, inspired by the movie School of Rock. Since then, he has honed his craft, drawing influences from a diverse array of artists, including David Gilmour, Jason Isbell, and Chris Stapleton. The Ian Abel Band’s breakout moment came when their song “Shoes” was featured in a promotional video for All Elite Wrestling’s inaugural pay-per-view, Double or Nothing, garnering international attention. Abel previously toured with Grand Ole Opry member T. Graham Brown as lead guitarist and headlined iconic Los Angeles venues such as the Troubadour, Whisky A Go Go, and Viper Room. His music has received praise from popular regional radio station 91.9 WFPK for “creating an expansive, stadium-ready rock sound,” and other notable publications like Grateful Web, antiMusic, and The Alternate Root. As the band continues to innovate and push the boundaries of their musical style, listeners can anticipate more heartfelt and genre-blending tracks in the future. Ian Abel Band remains committed to delivering powerful performances and connecting with fans through their evocative music via live performances. Stream “Stay Here” now and stay connected with Ian Abel Band on Instagram @ianabelband, TikTok @ianabelband, and their website IanAbel.Band for updates on upcoming releases and tour dates. Read the full article

[kahlaniiboom]

Carnaval of Forbidden Love

Adriano Silva-Alvero, a 16-year-old Brazilian teenager, is excited about Carnaval, the most celebrated event in Brazil. However, his parents, Beatriz and Fransisco, insist he find a date to uphold the family's Carnaval tradition. Adriano's attempts to find a date lead him through several awkward encounters with different girls, leaving him feeling dejected and out of options.

His best friend, Lucas Cordoba, suggests he go to Carnaval alone and have fun, even if he's grounded for not finding a date. However, Adriano's parents are strict and ground him for not following their wishes. As Carnaval starts, he watches the festivities from his window, longing to be out with his friends.

Adriano's brother, Antonio, who is known for his rebellious nature, suggests that Adriano sneak out and join the Carnaval parade, especially since the final day of Carnaval is Valentine's Day. Adriano decides to follow his brother's advice, changes into his Carnaval costume, and sneaks out to enjoy the festivities.

During Carnaval, Adriano meets Alyssa-Xin Tan, a Singaporean girl whose family recently moved to Brazil for business. Despite their different backgrounds, they hit it off and spend the evening exploring the lively streets, filled with music, samba dancing, and vibrant costumes. As the night draws to a close, Adriano and Alyssa promise to meet again, feeling a strong connection despite their cultural differences.

However, Alyssa's parents are strict and quickly discover her encounter with Adriano. Similarly, Adriano's parents find out he snuck out and are furious. Both sets of parents forbid them from seeing each other. Alyssa is confined to her room, and Adriano is grounded again.

One night, Adriano walks past Alyssa's house, unable to stay away. He sees her light on and decides to sneak in through her window. They share a tender moment, talking about their dreams and hopes despite their parents' objections. Their moment is interrupted when Alyssa's parents catch Adriano in her room, leading to a confrontation with his parents. Both families make it clear that they cannot date due to cultural and familial differences.

[ryan-spinel]

CHAPTER TWO

“Perri's Letter and Spinel's Revenge”

It was another boring day at school. Today I avoided Steven and Connie, at least until things cool down. Now Perri and I are walking to her house, later going to see Lexi. I suggested we go right after school, but poor Perri had a meltdown when that phone addicted bitch Sophie teased her about liking Lexi. Saying “A spaz like you can't date someone like Lexi Joel. You have a better chance at hooking up with your catnapping psycho of a friend.”

I would have said “go fuck yourself and stuff your mouth with a dumb jocks cock.”But I kept silent to avoid more trouble. Even though she's a threat to my relationship with Steven, she went too far attacking my wittle buddy. After today, she will pay.

“So. How you feeling bud.” I comforted

“A little better Spinel, thank you, for walking with me.” Perri lamented

She didn't seem any better, so I stopped walking and placed my hands on her shoulders. She jolted a little bit, she does that when someone touches her without her knowing, I need to stop doing that.

“Perri, please don't worry about Sophie. She will never bother you again.” I reassured Perri

“You don't know that Spinel, you can't just make her disappear.” Perry doubted

The truth is I can, and I will.

“Just, please trust me okay. She won't hurt you anymore.” I asserted, starting to get annoyed

“I-,hmm. Okay Spinel, I trust you. Now can we please go to my place.” Perri faltered, noticing me getting annoyed.

Even though Perri and I been friends for a while, there were times I lost my shit. One time in elementary 5, Perri had this cute green alien head chewy. Back then Perri would chew on the collar of her shirt, so Brooklyn got it as an alternative. Later, a boy by the name of Ronaldo ask if he could play with it. Perri didn't say anything, she looked away from the fat little shit. He started to get annoyed and grabbed her arm. When I saw tears running down the poor kids face, I said. “Don't touch my fucking friend, she doesn't want to share. So piss of you bitch-ass comic book reading fat pussy.” After I stand up for my nerdy buddy, the little shit started to ball his eyes out. So I got detention for the weekend, and then Grandmother Whitney put a bar of soap in my mouth. She's an amazing Grandmother, but if you push her buttons she can be a mean old hag.

We finally arrive at Perri's place, it's a cute little cabin-like house. With a more rustic style unlike my home, a traditional Japanese minka. Once we walked to the door, we were greeted by the outgoing Brooklyn Fitzgerald. A fierce and friendly soul, who looks out for her friends. She works as a lumberjack at the local saw mill, fell in love with the stubborn lawyer Pearl Harpor and once one first place in the wood chopping competition at the county fair. Brooklyn was always that person you feel comfortable around, she is a great role-model for Perri and always wants the best for her. She's like the cool aunt I never had, and the only adult I feel comfortable around that isn't my family.

“How you doing kids, I made a tray of onigiri for an afternoon snack.” Brooklyn greeted

“Thanks mom, we're here just to get a bite to eat, spinel and I are going to a study group at the library.” Perri replied

Perri doesn't lie often, but she's surprisingly good at it. It's scary if you think about it.

“Well okay Perri, but remember. Always have your phone, come back home before six, and don't walk in Black Hawk Clan territory.” Brooklyn directed

“Well of course mom.” Perri acknowledged while to two of us walk inside

Their house interior was like one of the those shacks in the movie Friday the 13th. Brooklyn kept it very well maintained, she may be a lumberjack but she's a amazing carpenter.

“I'll be back Spinel, I'm just getting some things from my room.” Perri called, going to grab the letter

“Alright Perri.” I concurred while eating some homemade onigiri

“So, umm. Spins, how's Perri doing.” Brooklyn worried, she's not always the serious type. But when she is, you need to listen and shut up.

“She's, okay. Why do you ask?” I denied, having a good feeling what she's going to say.

“I got a call from the school, saying that Perri had a meltdown.” Brooklyn took a deep breath and continued. “Spinel, I know your aware that Perri is a little different than the other kids. She thinks in a different way and does things differently.” Brooklyn fretted

“I think you are aware of this Spinel, but Perri has Autism.” Brooklyn said looking that she's not finished speaking.

I was aware that Perri isn't like other kids, that why I like her. I love that she would ramble on and on about robotics, AI and Elon Musk. I love that she has that burning passion to expand her learning, even if it's just one topic. In a way, Perri's like a little sister to me. I love her because she's unique, not mediocre like those bimbos at school. She's her own person and doesn't follow a crowd.

“There were many incidents that kids would tease her because she's on the spectrum. They would tease her for being jumpy, they would pick on her because she wouldn't play with the other kids. And let's not forget the time a student grabbed her over a god damn chewie.” Brooklyn bawled, on the verge of tears. Even someone as strong as her can feel defeated sometimes.

“I'm scared spinel, I'm scared that my little girl will get herself hurt. After the diagnosis her father couldn't take it and left. Saying that he wanted a normal child with a normal life. Pearl has a hard time dealing with Perri sometimes, but she still cares about her. All I ask is Spinel, please look out for her.”

“Brook, things won't be like this forever. There's a lot of people with autism and live great lives. Overtime they grow and learn how to cope, Perri's still a kid. She's going to be an amazing person one day. Building robots or something. The point is that sometime people outgrow these problems, it's sometimes doesn't bother them or they cope with it. Your very lucky to have a daughter like Perri. You just have to remember that every successful person had those days that they want to give up. But they keep pushing until they reach their goals. Just like Perri.” I monotoned

“You maybe right Spins, Perri has been growing up. It just seems like yesterday she didn't need her chewy anymore.” Brooklyn hoped

“See, everything's going to be okay. Sophie won't bully her anymore, I promise.” I concluded

“Alright Spinel, lets go to the library now. ” Perri intrupted

“Be safe girls, look out for one another.”

It took us 30 minutes by bus to arrive at the Black Hawk clan's main nest, I don't know why they would call it a nest but whatever. Their nest was a giant old warehouse outside of town, it had a barbed wire fence all around the headquarters. Like those fences you see in prisons. There was a giant chain link fence for the entrance, two bikers were guarding it carrying AK-47s.

“Yo what the fuck, you can't be-, ohhhhhh. It's the catnapper. What business do you have with the Black Hawks.” Thug one marveled

“Is that what they're calling me now, it was psycho bitch last week. We don't what any trouble, we just want to see the road captain.”

“Wait are you talking about, Lex. Hah,well Spins, we can't let you just see the road captain. You have to talk to the founder first, she decides not us.” Thug two announced

“Oh for the love of god.” I whispered to myself

“Well, can we see. Fucking, Jasper or someone.” I badgered

These biker act so tough and fearless. But really, their just a bunch of leather-wearing douches.

“Ahhhhh, if it'll make you shut the fuck up then sure. ” thug one complained

The two annoyed thugs opened the gate, Perri and I walk cautiously into the nest.

Inside the warehouse wasn't any better than the outside. On the left side, there was a bar with tables, chairs and stolen arcade game machines. The right side was their business operation, with safes, factory equipment and a security system. Every biker gang has their source of income. It can be drugs,weapons, cigarettes or anything valuable on the yami-ichi.

The Black Hawks are the kingpins in the drug industry, but they don't just sell any type of drug. They created their own drug that is booming in the Japanese black market. It's called Menohoyō, meaning eye-candy in Japanese. Menohoyō is made just like regular eye-drops, because it is eye-drops. The only reason why it's addictive and illegal, is because it's made of 45% of diethylamide. A main chemical component to make LSD. There's been cases all across the world, reaching places like Brazil, United States and even Russia. There has been many gangs and drug cartels trying to replicate this drug, but all of them failed. Today, the Black Hawks dominate the drug industry, even bribing politicians to keep their business running. It's greasy business, that's why I want Lexi to get out when she still has the chance.

In front of us are the three masterminds of the whole operation.

Jasper Alder, the founder of the gang. Sitting on an old puke green recliner and smoking a five inch Pyramid cigar. She was born in Tokyo and was a target for bullying because she has vitiligo. Due to the bullying she became a mean bitch, once she broke a kids arm because she called her giraffe. Later in life, Jasper got into bodybuilding and motorcycles. Causing her to follow the wrong crowd. She got involved in a lot of crazy shit involving rival gangs. Once she turned twenty-three, she created the Black Hawk Clan. She called it that because one day, her father and her were hunting hawks. A giant common black hawk attacked her father and scratched his throat, causing him to bled to death in the middle of the woods. Jasper manage to shot the hawks wing and flew off. For three nights she was searching that hawk. Later found it on the ground near an old Japanese Wisteria. Jasper chose not to put the bird out of its misery, instead she watched it bled out for three minutes. So long story short, she's twenty-five and runs a drug cartel now.

On her left was the president of the clan, Eleanor Monsoon. She was Jasper right-hand gal, those two used to rob gas-stations when they were teens. Eleanor was also known for her great grandfather being in the Imperial guard divisions during WW2. That's where she gets her fierce comanding attitude.

On the right was the Vice President of the clan, Persephone Windsor. Nothing to special about her, all I can say is she's a snobby bitch born in a very rich family, she supply's most of the equipment and weapons. She's a narcissist and a manipulator who will destroy lives to get her way.

“(Puffing a smoke) Well, I didn't expect to see the pip-squeak and the catnapper today. ” Jasper snarled while inhaling on her cigar.

“Let me do the talking Perri, I got this.” I whispered to Perri

“Hi Jasper, hows the gang and so. Also can we talk to Lexi.” I urged, trying to convince the butch

“(Puffing a smoke). Well Spins, if you have business with the road captain you have business with me. Now spill the beans crazy.” Jasper chided

“It has nothing to do with.Business. We want to see Lexi, because-”

“Because I want to get to know her better, and hopefully she'll get out of this dirty, greasy motorcyclist club you call a business.” Perri interrupted me and dared Jasper

Thanks a lot Perri, we're fucked.

“How dare you, a worthless pest like you speaking to the founder like-” Persephone chastised

“Wait. Hold on your saying you want to hangout and bond, with the black hawk clan road captain. Out of all the nerds at your snobby school. You choose an angsty, hot-headed, with drugged up parents and possibly slept with more guys than you know how many bones are in the human body. So tell be spaz, what makes you think a nerd like you, can ever be with someone as fucked up as Lex. Because honestly, you can do better.” Jasper insulted

I saw that Perri was starting to get upset, but instead being sad, she got mad.

“You, you don't know anything. How dare you talk to someone like that, your not any better you, you, you f-f-fucking clod.” Perri exploded

It would take a tiny miracle to get us out of this shit.

However, the three bikers looked at each other with confusion. There was a silent pause, until.

“...............Haaaahahahahahahahaha.hhaaaaaaahaaahahahaahahahahhaaaahahah.” The three clan leaders burst with laughter

Perri expression turned back to sadness, trying to hold in her tears.

“Hahahaaahhaa, is,haha, is that the best you got tiny,hahhahaha. That's fucking pathetic, hahaha. Oh look at me, I WUV Lexi, hahaha.” Jasper mocked

I could see Perri starting to sob, I wanted to say something but that would be a suicide mission.

“Perri and Lexi sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-” the three clan leaders laughed and mocked

“What the fuck is happening, it's like a fucking circus in here. ” Lexi interrupted

Thank God she's here

“Perri, Spinel. What are you guys doing here.” Lexi gasped

“We were going to see you, until these donkey's stop us from doing so.” I explained

Lexi then turned her attention to the brainy-baby.

“Hey, hey, hey. Perri, my dude. I'm here, it's okay.” Lexi tried comforting Perri

“(Whimpering) it's good to see you again rockstar.” Perri sniffled

“It's good to see you to buddy.” Lexi sympathized

Lexi then turned her attention to the three douches

“What the fuck did you three do.” Lexi accused

“Lex, know your place. You do not bark at me, or I'm sending you back on the streets like the runt you are. ” Jasper retaliated

“Well I guess you have to put be back on the fucking streets, because no one talks to my friends like that.” Lexi condemned

It warms my cold heart to see Lex care so much for Perri, it's so sweet.

“Ah you fucking bitch, alright. You can see your, friend now.(inhaling on her cigar).” Jasper said in defeat

“Come on Perri, is there something you wanted to tell me.” Lexi adviced

“One second Lexi.” Perri protested

She turned her direction towards me, running up to me and giving me a hug. It was a tight hug, like a bear hug.

“You are the greatest friend in the world, I'm so lucky to have met you.” Perri chirped

I still didn't understand this platonic affection, this is the second time in a row, and I don't feel anything. My heart feels heavy and silent, there's no emotion. Why am I like this.

But to make her feel better, I hugged her back.

It lasted for 3 minutes, everyone in the warehouse was staring at us. But I didn't care, as long as she's happy.

She finally let go and walk towards Lexi, both of them waving goodbye to me. I guess it wasn't such a bad day after all.

“Hold on Spinel, just a minute.” Jasper asserted

I spoke to soon.

“Even though I'm letting your friend hang with the road captain, you still have to do something for me in return. ” Jasper decided

“Jasper. I can't be your drug mule.” I stated

“Don't worry your panties off, your not delivering drugs. I've chosen something that you may like. Do you know Sophie Turner.” Jasper explained

“What about her.”

“She hasn't been paying her IOU's for the Menohoyō's she's been buying for her parties. She keeps saying “My dad is rich, I'll get your money, stop bugging me, bla bla bla.” So because of her I'm losing money, she's my top buyer in Akuma no tochi. So what I need you to do is, take her out.” Jasper offered

Well isn't that pure irony.

“I think I can do that Jasper, but I'm going to need some equipment.” I demanded

“Sure, anything. You just can't tell the clan was involved.” Jasper added

“I need a hacksaw, trash bags, bleach, cleaning supplies, nails and the key to the saw mill.” I listed

“Done. Go to our SGT at arms, Ruth. She'll get you what you need. Remember Spinel, this never happened.” Jasper concluded

Once I reached the exit, a familiar voice called out for me.

“Spinel, Wait. I want to talk to you!”

Well what do you know, I thought Ryan was the last person who would talk to me here.

“Listen Spinel, I did some thinking and wanted to apologize about yesterday. I took my frustrations out on you, it was wrong. I should have never called you runner-tits, your a beautiful, smart girl. One day, some very lucky guy will meet you. I'm sorry.” Ryan apologized

I didn't expect someone like Ryan to say that, it took a lot of guts to admit something like that. I respect that.

“I forgive you Ryan, no hard feelings.”

“Thank you Spinel, I'll let you go now. But remember, the Black Hawks have your back.” Ryan thanked

“Your welcome, I'll see you around.”

It is time, time to give that bitch what she deserves. Good thing I didn't give all that birthday cake to the meow-meows.

I finally arrive to Sophie's place, no ones home but her. I have everything I need to silence her for good. And it all starts with a piece of cake.

I walked to her door and placed a small pink box on the doorstep. I knocked on the door and hid behind a bush.

“Hello, is some out there. Justin you better not be fucking with me.” Sophie cautioned

“Oh, what's this. (opens the box) aww, it's a piece of cake. I guess Justin isn't a dick after all. ”

Sophie picked up the cake from the box and went back inside, without locking the door. I quietly snuck in behind her, when I found out that she took the bait. I always make the best cakes, thanks to Momma. But for this special occasion, I added my secret ingredient.

I saw her take the first bite, then the second, and finally the third. Until she took her fourth bite.

“Mmmh mhhhh- ACK,ACK. Gahh. Barf.” Sophie said while gagging and puking blood

That's right, the secret ingredient os nails. I placed a couple of small nails in the sweet-treat, hoping it would tear her esophagus apart.

“Aww, did poor wittle Sophie bit off more than she could chew.” I teased her while kneeling down beside her.

“Who's a spaz now bitch. I would have came for your ass later. But you had to pick on my wittle buddy. That's one step to far.” I rasped

I looked at her in disgust while watching her struggle to breathe. This was the first human I ever killed, I'm tired of releasing my pain on cats. Taking them from their owners, putting them in a bag, and slamming that said bag onto the concrete floor! Who ever knew inflicting pain on someone like her can feel so, pleasurable. Reliving. The pure horror in their eyes fills my desire, my desire to butcher these whores that stand in my way. I shouldn't have done this sooner.

“ACK ACK ACK, gahh. Fuck youu, you psychotic cun-(pukes blood). Barf. Huff, puff, huff, puff. Huff...ack....ack...ack.........ah.” Sophie cried her last words.

“Just so you know, it's homemade not store bought.” I joked

Well that took longer than I expected. I had to saw her in ten part, bag them, clean the floor, bleach the floor, dispose any evidence, take the body parts to the saw mill and shred them up. I also had to burn my cloths as well, at least I brought a spare set. But it all ended smoothly. I got my revenge, and now only five more rivals to go. Perri can now see Lexi anytime, I hope they worked out, they'll make a cute couple. Even though school sucked ass at least it ended on a positive note. Now time to go home, and great my amazing famil-.

“Hey. Spinel.”

Okay who could that be.

I turned around wanting to know whose behind me. And oh fuck I wish didn't. This day was perfect for Perri and I, and she's the last person I wanted to see, God damn it!

“Hello Spinel”

“Hello. Connie.”

To be continued

[laurazepamwrites]

The Chemicals between us ~ Chapter 12

“Here is your office, Ma'am.” Said the young Vishkar receptionist, pushing open the frosted glass door to a pristine, well lit room that offered a generous view of the bustling city of Istanbul below.  “You have a video call from Mr Korpal at three.” Satya glanced at the clock, she had twenty minutes to settle into her new surroundings. “Thank you.” She said to the receptionist who gave her a polite nod and left. Satya looked around the room, it was her first time in Vishkars Turkish offices but no matter where you were in the world, Vishkars style was indistinguishable. Sleek, clean and modern. Satya walked to some nearby shelves which were sparsely adorned with a book on hard-light, a small model of the headquarters in Utopaea and to her distaste a wilting houseplant. She wiped a finger over the shelf and inspected it for dust, she made a satisfactory noise and seated herself at the desk which created a hard light screen in front of her. ‘Identification please.’ It spoke in a computerized female voice. Satya cleared her throat and answered. “Satya Vaswani, Architect.”

‘Voice recognition correct. Good afternoon Miss Vaswani.’ The screen split into three and a hard light keyboard emerged in front of her. She touched one screen which moved forwards of the other two and it was with this one she accessed her emails. The most recent one was from Sanjay who had moved her meeting forward, she replied quickly to alert him she had arrived in time and was waiting. Her next email made Satya narrow her eyes slightly, The header said ‘Do you wanna know a secret?’ followed by a small pixel of a purple skull. Satya tutted and deleted it promptly. Spammers always seemed to find their way into Vishkars email boxes. Perhaps the Juniors and Interns were using their time unwisely online, she should say something before one of them accidentally opens a virus. Looking up through the clear hardlight wall of her office she noticed the young woman that showed her in chatting with another member of staff. A young man who looked to be in his twenties, eating his lunch whilst talking to the young receptionist. Satya watched in disgust as he took a bite out of his food and watched a dollop of sauce land on his shirt. She grimaced..perhaps she would talk to them later. The second screen suddenly lit up and played a tune and rotated to the front. ‘Incoming call from Sanjay Korpal.’ The computer's voice informed her. Satya sat up even straighter if that was possible for her and smoothed out her perfectly kept clothes and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear before delicately swiping the screen to answer. “Good afternoon Sanjay.”

“Ah Satya, glad to see you have settled in. I do apologize for the change in times.”

“It was of no concern. I hope your meetings in Monaco have gone well.”

“They have indeed but I will not bore you with the details. Have you read the Istanbul brief?”

Satya swiftly brought up the files on the 3rd screen on her latest project. A few weeks had passed since she had left Oasis and had returned to Vishkars headquarters before being assigned to Turkey for -in her opinion- what was an underwhelming project for Vishkar. A small hardlight complex paid for by a local celebrity. It was beneath her.

“Is this not the kind of assignment for less skilled architects?”

Sanjay laughed. “Oh satya I do enjoy your bluntness. Whilst I would agree normally  I'm afraid I will need to keep you in the shadows a while longer, just until the Brazil fiasco is forgotten. We still haven't located the stolen technology. Correia dos Santos has been untraceable”

Satya felt a flair of anger rise within her and it showed in her tone. “Nevermind the technology..our mission was to help the people of Rio and they rebelled. Why am I the one to be punished for their lack of sense and gratitude?”

“Don't get upset Satya, you are not being punished. We just feel it would be best to keep you out of the limelight for a short while. I’m doing it myself, working behind the scenes as it were. Don't you worry, myself and the other executives have a huge project in the works and you'll be the one to create our vision. Take this time to rest yourself and perfect your art. We have great plans for you Satya. Do not concern yourself with people who refuse paradise for they do not deserve it.”

His words reminded her of her strange meeting with the Minister of Genetics, “You sound like Dr O’Deorain. She told me something similar herself when I met her in Oasis.”

Sanjay's face had gone from smiling to something much less approving and he shifted in his seat. “And what er..what is it the Madam minister told you?”

“She told me to remind you that sacrifices must be made for the greater good and order will be born from chaos.”

“Was that all?”

“Only that Vishkar shares Oasis ideals, where ingenuity will lead mankind to a greater future..She..She did mention how unfortunate Brazil was for us.”

Sanjay smirked unpleasantly and loosened the tie around his neck. “I can assume she put the fault at my door? The Minister has an eloquent way with words that still stab deeply. I'd expect no less of her.”

“Do you know her personally, Sanjay?”

“Hmm? Oh no, I met her only briefly when I have visited Oasis in the past. She is an ally of Vishkar and has voted for a partnership but I have yet to meet a more dangerous woman. she’ll find a weakness and unravel it like a thread.”

“She said I will rise from the ashes with the best of humanity.”

“Of course she did. Moira is a very clever woman and would be blind to not see your potential my dear. It's what I have always told you Satya, and soon you will come to understand that yourself once our grand vision comes to light under your hands. Do the dumb models house and enjoy your time in Turkey, soon everything will make sense I promise.”

“I need more information Sanjay, are we creating more cities? Brazil was a huge financial setback for us, how can we afford to-”

“Satya do not upset yourself with things you do not understand. All you need to know is what to build and where to build it. You’re an Architect, you have no need to concern yourself with the boring affairs of my work.” He was smiling at her but his jaw was clenched and eyes set hard on her. He hated being questioned and divulging the details of how Vishkar was run. Satya lowered her eyes. “I am sorry Sanjay.”

Sanjay relaxed and leaned back in his chair, “All is forgiven my dear, now why don't you take some time to explore the city? I will be in touch in a few days to hear how your project went. Remember, I expect nothing but perfection from you.”

Satya blinked at the now blank screen as Sanjay ended the call. She felt slightly ashamed for questioning him and risking his temper, it was not her place. 

She was simply the tool.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyday around four in the afternoon on the plaza outside of the Vishkar Istanbul offices the local cafe takes out a cold trolley stocked with flasks of the traditional local drink called Şerbet. It was a routine of Arda Yilmaz, an office administrator for Vishkar, to come down to the plaza everyday to purchase the sugary drink. He would then sit on the edge of a grand stone fountain and watch his colleagues taking their own break, the locals going about their business or tourists studying a map and looking lost. Today was no different except for the fact the most established Architect Vishkar had was now in the building. He wiped at the sauce stain on his shirt hoping she wouldn't notice should he bump into her, Arda wanted to make a good first impression after all. He glanced at his watch and stood up, his break nearly over he began heading back to the office. In the corner of his eye he saw an old woman, walking heavily on a can and carrying a hefty shopping bag. She wore an intricately designed headscarf and large dark sunglasses. Arda paid her no mind until he heard a soft ‘Oh!’ coming from her direction, looking over as he prepared to swipe his ID card to enter the building he saw the old woman had dropped some shopping. 

“Oh thank you young man!” Said the woman in an Arabic accent as Arda knelt down to place her belongings back in her bag. “My daughter will scold me for doing too much again, My poor back will have hell to pay tomorrow.”

Arda stood up and handed the woman her shopping. “You’re welcome Ma’am. Do you live nearby? Can I call you a taxi?”

“Oh how sweet of you!” She said, reaching up and pinching his cheek. “My daughter is parked just around the corner, would you be a dear to help me the rest of the way?”

Arda smiled brightly at her and took the rest of her bags in one hand and offered her his elbow to assist her walking. The old woman gratefully accepted and as they walked she asked if he worked in that big beautiful building, he must be important to work there since she saw a grand looking car pull up earlier on her way to market with a serious looking woman leaving the vehicle.

“Oh you must have seen Satya Vaswani. She's the best architect Vishkar has, I don't know why they sent someone like her here though. She's a genius! Oh is that your car ma'am?” They had walked up a deserted alleyway to the only vehicle parked there. “Strange place to leave your car, there's a car park not far from here.”

“There is, dear. But there's a lot of cameras and security and I'm very shy.” Said the old woman letting go of his arm. Arda looked at her in surprise as she dropped her cane and stood up straight. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a gun. “This will only hurt for a minute.” She said and shot him in the leg. Poor Arda had barely time to react as an intense wave of fatigue washed over him and he slumped backwards and leant heavily on the boot of the car. Ana moved towards him, opening the back door and gently guided him in. He was too exhausted to resist and was seconds from sleep. “I'm sorry dear but you looked the nicest one to work with.” He heard her say. “You’ll wake up in a couple of hours and are free to leave, there's a pillow to sleep on and I left an energy bar in the glove compartment. You’re gonna feel rough when you wake up. Oh, i'll be needing this too..” She took the ID around his neck and pocketed it in her handbag. Ana took off the headscarf she wore stuffing it under the seat and replacing it with a floral scarf and a new pair of sunglasses. She topped her new disguise off with a sunhat. 

“You know, Vinegar and soda will get that mustard stain out of your shirt.” Ana smiled warmly at him. She shut the car door and Arda fell into the deepest slumber he would ever have.

              -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Mei tucked her hair behind her ear as she nervously watched Angela check them into the hotel. She did not doubt Athena's abilities to provide false identification but she was still scared they would be caught out or recognised. The Omnic receptionist typed away at the computer on the check in desk and Mei felt a rush of relief when he bid them welcome to Calais and gave Angela the room keys. Their room was adequate for the night with twin beds, shower and tv. Mei released Snowball from one of her bags and was instantly berated for his undignified imprisonment. “Well I'm sorry Snowball but the Commander said you could only come if you stay hidden.” She curtly retorted. She looked to Angela who had already unpacked the few essentials she brought and was tidying her long blonde hair in the mirror, hair pins sticking out of her mouth. “What do you suggest we do first Angela? One of the addresses Athena found is about a 10minute drive away.” 

Angela quickly pinned back her hair into a neat bun and admired it at different angles. “I think it's best to start from there before we draw too much attention to ourselves. After that we can act like tourists, get dinner then go over whatever we have found. We can discuss the Omnic rally tonight.”

“Do you think there will be trouble?”

“Depends who is in attendance” Angela said, checking her pistol and holstering it at the hip. “Liberte was supposed to be speaking but who knows who will take his place and if they will stir the crowds up, and don't forget Null sector where seen in the area not long ago. We must keep our guard up always.”

It didn't take long to locate the first lead, on a quiet street in Calais they found the residence of Pix Elle. A female omnic who had reported her husband Hub 0.5 missing only four days earlier. Angela parked up the car and got out, looking up at the grey imposing apartment building that housed humanoid Omnics. “They live here?” Mei asked, joining Angelas side. The building was old and dirty, in obvious disrepair and had pro Omnic graffiti paired with hateful anti omnic slogans. “Its terrible.” Stated Angela grimly. As they approached Pix Elles door Angela took out a badge from her handbag. “We’re journalists Mei, I’ll do the talking. We’ll keep it nice and casual so we don't arouse suspicion. She may be defensive.” Mei nodded in agreement, thankful Angela was taking charge. She had a brief thought that maybe it would have been a good idea to bring Zenyatta along to ease communications between humans and Omnic but it was too late for that. Angela gave the door a couple of knocks and Mei could hear movement from within, a minute later the door opened a crack, a softly glowing light blue omnic eye peered out at them. “Hello?” It said with uncertainty.

“Pix Elle? My name is Amanda Muller and this is Lin Chang." Angela quickly showed her the holographic paper that Athena had tampered with to create a fake ID badge. “We work for ‘The connexion’ paper and wondered if you would be willing to help us with our report.” Pix Elle opened the door wider. “Is this about Hub's disappearance?” 

Angela glanced at Mei. “Yes. We think he may not be the only one missing and we need as much information as possible. Can you assist us?” 

Pix Elle looked between the two women and opened the door fully. “Yes! Yes please come in, I was beginning to think no one was going to help. The police said there wasn't much they could do, just to put out flyers with his face on. Is that how you found me? Oh! Please sit, I'm sorry this place is such a mess! We don't usually have human visitors so i'm afraid I can't offer you anything to drink.”

“Please don't worry about us, we’re here to help.” Angela gestured to a chair opposite herself and Mei. “Can you tell me about your husband?”

Pix Elle sat and looked down sadly. “Hub is a good man. He never got into any trouble and this is not like him I swear. He always comes straight home from work. I..I don't know what to do. No one wants to help Omnics, even my own kind is too scared to help. They think they will disappear too!”

“How many have disappeared Pix Elle?” Asked Mei.

“Three that I know of, maybe more?” She answered.

“Do you know them? Does Hub?” Angela asked.

“No, I don't think so, he tells me everything.”

Angela took a notebook from her bag. “Where does Hub work, Pix Elle?”

“At the Port, he works on moving cargo..for Global Freight. He finishes late at night and then one night he just didn't come back. This was nearly four days ago! What If something bad has happened to him?” She was clearly upset.

“That's what we want to find out about Pix Elle, we want to find out what's been happening to Omnics lately. Has anything strange been happening here? Anything you have seen?”

“Well..I saw some strange looking Omnics outside the apartment but only once. They sprayed the building but so many do.. There's alot of omnic gangs around, do you think they hurt him?”

Angela shared a look with Mei, “It's a possibility. Pix Elle what do you know of Null Sector?”

“Null Sector? They’re an extremist Omnic rights cell yes? I know a couple of members were caught here not long ago but they were released without charge. Do..do you think Hub has joined them?”

“Im not sure Pix..”

“If he has then he’s surely alive right?! Hub always talk about omnic rights and how we deserve better! We planned on going to the rally together tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be there!”

Mei looked sadly at the Omnic who was now full of hope. It was cruel how they were treated, how they lived. She looked around the tiny apartment. It was cold and dark, the only light coming from a small window. They had little furniture, few possessions..a photo frame caught her eye. Mei stood up and walked over to it, gently picking it up. “Is this Hub?” She asked.

“That was taken a few days after we met, Hub took me to a protest as a first date could you believe! It was a wonderful day, Tekhartha Mondatta was the speaker. May the Iris embrace him.”

“Did you know Liberte was meant to be at the rally tomorrow?” Angela asked.

“Yes, me and Hub looked forward to seeing him but he’s cancelled his last 3 events. He is still using his social media and has urged his followers to still attend despite the threat of Null sector. Maybe he will be there, like Hub!”

Angela looked sympathetically at her. “I'm sure we will get to the bottom of this Pix Elle, and I hope you get the closure you need. I think Lin and I have what we need from you, we won't disturb you any longer.” Angela stood up and held out her hand for the omnic to shake. Pix Elle grasped it tightly with both hands. “It means so much that someone heard my cry for help, please. Please help bring my Hub home!”

“We’ll do our best Pix Elle, I promise. Maybe we’ll see you at the rally tomorrow.” Angela smiled gently at her and pulled her hand away. Once they had left and walked down the stairs did they speak. “Do you think he joined Null sector?” Mei asked. “Do you think any of them did?”

Angela looked sadly back at her. “No Mei..I think they are dead. Whatever is happening to them, whatever purpose. I don't think there's a happy ending for them. Maybe whatever happened to these omnics is different from what happened to the ones In Bryansk..I don't know. It's bad though. It's very bad.”

Mei pushed the door to the apartment building open. “Do you think Liberte is even missing? Pix Elle said he’s still using his social media, maybe it's personal reasons after all..?”

“Unless someone else is using his account.” Said Angela, who had stopped to look at some Omnic graffiti on the building. “This must be the one Pix Elle spoke about. It looks new.” Mei looked at it, it was an Omnic rising into the air, silhouetted against a bright golden sun in a blood red sky. Beneath him was charred bones and burning buildings, strange symbols lined the bottom which looked like the Omnics coded language. “Wow that's erm..bold?” Mei said with uncertainty, suddenly feeling very exposed in an Omnic neighbourhood. “I agree, let's move on.” Said Angela taking her arm and steering her towards the car. 

             --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The security guard looked up with suspicion as Ana used the Vishkar ID to enter the building. “Oh hello young man, I hope i'm in the right place. This badge belongs to my grandson, he told me he left it at home and got into some trouble this morning for forgetting it. He’s working late so I also brought him dinner.” 

The guard studied the ID and recognised the employee, didn't he see him leave earlier? Perhaps he was mistaken. He can't be expected to remember every single person that went through those doors.

“There's also my famous almond biscuits if I need to bribe my way in?” The old woman whispered cheekily.

The guard chuckled lightly. “No need Ma'am. I believe he works on the 9th floor, the elevator is down the corridor on the left.”

“Thank you dear.”

One of the elevator doors opened as Ana approached, she stepped aside to allow the person to leave and was pleasantly surprised to come face to face with none other than Satya Vaswani. “After you my dear.” Ana said pleasantly, gesturing to go ahead. “Thank you.” Satya replied politely and walked into the foyer. Ana noted she looked somewhat flustered but thanked her own good luck that Satya was leaving as she pressed the button for the top floor. Some people entered and left the elevator but gave her no mind, polite nods of greeting were exchanged but why would anyone give a thought to an old woman. The 9th floor came and went as Ana accessended to the top of the building, stepping out confidently and walking in the spacious well lit reception area. Ana took note of how many offices were on this floor, three in total. Each one housed a potential treasure trove of information, but it was only one she needed to access.

“Can I help you?” A young receptionist asked as Ana approached.

“Ah yes dear, I have my Grandsons ID and dinner. I was told to bring it to the 9th floor.”

“Oh, well this is the 15th floor Ma’am.” The receptionist said politely. “May I take the ID?”

“Oh my damn eyes get worse everyday.” Ana laughed and handed her the badge and eyed up the doors, spotting Satya's name on the end office. “Oh your Ardas grandmother?” The receptionist said brightly. “How sweet, he always talks about you.”

“Of course he does, I'm an amazing woman.”

“Im so sorry to hear about your husband.”

“Yes, well death takes us all in the end my dear.”

“Oh..Arda told me he left with a woman half his age..?”

“Oh for the love of..!” Ana rolled her eye, swiftly pulling out her sleep gun and darted the girl in the neck. She went down quicker than Arda had and she made quite a noise as her head hit the desk. Ana braced herself expecting a couple of Vishkar executives to investigate the noise but the offices appeared to be unoccupied.

“My luck is soon going to run out” Ana said to herself as she positioned the receptionist into a more comfortable position and took her phone off the hook. She snatched her ID off her neck and quickly went to Satya's office, thankful the ID allowed her entry. Ana sat at the desk and was greeted with a hard light screen. ‘Identification please.’ The screen asked. 

“Athena do your magic” Ana whispered as she attached a small microchip to the screen. Instantly it changed from blue to green as Athena began hacking into the Vishkar computer. Lines of code repeated over and over making Ana doubt it was working. ‘Voice recognition correct. Good afternoon Miss Vaswani.’ Oh!

“Athena you are truly a marvelous creation.” Ana praised as she began downloading information onto the microchip. She checked her watch..she had been in this building less than 15minutes and was soon to walk out her payload. This old woman still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“What do you think you are doing?” Satya asked coldly from the door to the office.

‘Shit..’

[newstfionline]

Thursday, April 8, 2021

Study: Drought-breaking rains more rare, erratic in US West (AP) Rainstorms grew more erratic and droughts much longer across most of the U.S. West over the past half-century as climate change warmed the planet, according to a sweeping government study released Tuesday that concludes the situation is worsening. The most dramatic changes were recorded in the desert Southwest, where the average dry period between rainstorms grew from about 30 days in the 1970s to 45 days between storms now, said Joel Biederman, a research hydrologist with the U.S. Department of Agriculture Southwest Watershed Research Center in Tucson, Arizona. The consequences of the intense dry periods that pummeled areas of the West in recent years were severe—more intense and dangerous wildfires, parched croplands and not enough vegetation to support livestock and wildlife. The study comes with almost two-thirds of the contiguous U.S. beset by abnormally dry conditions. Warm temperatures forecast for the next several months could make it the worst spring drought in almost a decade, affecting roughly 74 million people across the U.S., the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration said.

Survey: Even as schools reopen, many students learn remotely (AP) Large numbers of students are not returning to the classroom even as more schools reopen for full-time, in-person learning, according to a survey released Wednesday by the Biden administration. The findings reflect a nation that has been locked in debate over the safety of reopening schools. Even as national COVID-19 rates continued to ebb in February, key measures around reopening schools barely budged. Nearly 46% of public schools offered five days a week of in-person to all students in February, according to the survey, but just 34% of students were learning full-time in the classroom. The gap was most pronounced among older K-12 students, with just 29% of eighth graders getting five days a week of learning at school. With the new findings, President Joe Biden came no closer to meeting his goal of having most elementary schools open five days a week in his first 100 days. Just shy of half the nation’s schools offered full-time learning in February, roughly the same share as the previous month.

Off Grid (Pew Research Center) Despite increasing access across the country, still 7 percent of U.S. adults say they do not use the internet, according to the latest survey from the Pew Research Center. This includes about 25 percent of people aged 65 and up, about 14 percent of people in households earning less than $30,000 per year and about 10 percent of rural households. In 2000, 48 percent of Americans said they didn’t use the internet, which fell to 32 percent in 2005, 24 percent in 2010 and 15 percent by 2015.

Global COVID-19 death toll surpasses 3 million amid new infections resurgence (Reuters) Coronavirus-related deaths worldwide crossed 3 million on Tuesday, according to a Reuters tally, as the latest global resurgence of COVID-19 infections is challenging vaccination efforts across the globe. Worldwide COVID-19 deaths are rising once again, especially in Brazil and India. Health officials blame more infectious variants that were first detected in the United Kingdom and South Africa, along with public fatigue with lockdowns and other restrictions.

Devastation From Storms Fuels Migration in Honduras (NYT) Children pry at the dirt with sticks, trying to dig out parts of homes that have sunk below ground. Their parents, unable to feed them, scavenge the rubble for remnants of roofs to sell for scrap metal. They live on top of the mud that swallowed fridges, stoves, beds—their entire lives buried beneath them. “We are doomed here,” said Magdalena Flores, a mother of seven, standing on a mattress that peeked out from the dirt where her house used to be. “The desperation, the sadness, that’s what makes you migrate.” People have long left Honduras for the United States, fleeing gang violence, economic misery and the indifference of a government run by a president accused of ties to drug traffickers. Then last fall, two hurricanes hit impoverished areas of Honduras in rapid succession, striking more than four million people across the nation—nearly half the population—and leveling entire neighborhoods. “People aren’t migrating; they’re fleeing,” said César Ramos, of the Mennonite Social Action Commission, a group providing aid to people affected by the storms. “These people have lost everything, even their hope.”

Leaders of Russia and China tighten their grips (AP) They’re not leaders for life—not technically, at least. But in political reality, the powerful tenures of China’s Xi Jinping and, as of this week, Russia’s Vladimir Putin are looking as if they will extend much deeper into the 21st century—even as the two superpowers whose destinies they steer gather more clout with each passing year. What’s more, as they consolidate political control at home, sometimes with harsh measures, they’re working together more substantively than ever in a growing challenge to the West and the world’s other superpower, the United States. This week, Putin signed a law allowing him to potentially hold onto power until 2036. The 68-year-old Russian president, who has been in power for more than two decades—longer than any other Kremlin leader since Soviet dictator Josef Stalin—pushed through a constitutional vote last year allowing him to run again in 2024 when his current six-year term ends. He has overseen a systematic crackdown on dissent. In China, Xi, who came to power in 2012, has imposed even tighter controls on the already repressive political scene, emerging as one of his nation’s most powerful leaders in the seven decades of Communist Party rule that began with Mao Zedong’s often-brutal regime. Under Xi, the government has rounded up, imprisoned or silenced intellectuals, legal activists and other voices, cracked down on Hong Kong’s opposition and used security forces to suppress calls for minority rights in Xinjiang, Tibet and Inner Mongolia.

US military cites rising risk of Chinese move against Taiwan (AP) The American military is warning that China is probably accelerating its timetable for capturing control of Taiwan, the island democracy that has been the chief source of tension between Washington and Beijing for decades and is widely seen as the most likely trigger for a potentially catastrophic U.S.-China war. The worry about Taiwan comes as China wields new strength from years of military buildup. It has become more aggressive with Taiwan and more assertive in sovereignty disputes in the South China Sea. Beijing also has become more confrontational with Washington; senior Chinese officials traded sharp and unusually public barbs with Secretary of State Antony Blinken in talks in Alaska last month. A military move against Taiwan, however, would be a test of U.S. support for the island that Beijing views as a breakaway province. For the Biden administration, it could present the choice of abandoning a friendly, democratic entity or risking what could become an all-out war over a cause that is not on the radar of most Americans. The United States has long pledged to help Taiwan defend itself, but it has deliberately left unclear how far it would go in response to a Chinese attack.

Myanmar teeters toward state collapse and civil war (Washington Post) On Tuesday, protesters spilled metaphorical blood on the streets of Yangon, Myanmar’s biggest city. They sprayed and splashed red paint on roads, pavement and bus stops across town to mark the death toll exacted by security forces on demonstrators standing against the Feb. 1 coup carried out by the country’s junta. At least 570 people, including more than 40 children, have been killed in two months of unrest. More than 2,720 politicians, activists and civil society figures have been detained by authorities. At least 25 journalists are in detention, while others covering protests have been brutalized by state forces. On Tuesday, police and soldiers in Yangon carted off Zarganar, the country’s most well-known comedian, in an army vehicle on unspecified charges.      Last week, authorities further tightened curbs on broadband access, ordering private providers to suspend wireless data services. According to one research firm, Internet shutdowns over recent months in Myanmar may have already cost the local economy close to $1 billion. That’s a price the regime appears happy to pay to deter protesters from coordinating their actions and disseminating further information. Undaunted, dissidents have taken to older forms of communication, launching rogue radio stations and spreading leaflets urging a national boycott of next week’s official state celebration of Thingyan, Myanmar’s traditional new year.      Still, the resilience and determination of the protesters “is not unambiguously good news, because the military junta also will not give up, no matter the cost, leaving little hope of salvaging Myanmar’s political liberalization, economic reform, and development progress during a decade of civilian rule,” wrote Thitinan Pongsudhirak, an esteemed political scientist at Bangkok’s Chulalongkorn University. “Instead, the country faces the imminent threat of economic collapse, state implosion, and internal strife—perhaps even full-fledged civil war.”

A Murky, Violent Limbo in Syria (NYT) Among the millions of Syrians who fled as the government bombed their towns, destroyed their homes and killed their loved ones are 150 families squatting in a soccer stadium in the northwestern city of Idlib, sheltering in rickety tents under the stands or in the rocky courtyard. More than 1,300 similar camps dot Syria’s last bastions under rebel control, eating up farmland, stretching along irrigation canals and filling lots next to apartment buildings where refugee families squat in damaged units with no windows. On a rare visit to Idlib Province, examples abounded of shocked and impoverished people trapped in a murky and often violent limbo. Stuck between a wall to prevent them from fleeing across the nearby border with Turkey and a hostile government that could attack at any moment, they struggle to secure basic needs in a territory controlled by a militant group formerly linked to Al Qaeda. Few of them are likely to return as long as Assad remains in power, making the fate of the displaced one of the thorniest pieces of the war’s unfinished business. “The question is: What is the future for these people?” said Mark Cutts, the United Nations deputy regional humanitarian coordinator for Syria. “They can’t continue living forever in muddy fields under olive trees by the side of the road.”

Israel hits Iranian ship (Foreign Policy) An Iranian military vessel in the Red Sea was damaged by an Israeli mine on Tuesday in the latest naval confrontation involving the two countries. The incident follows a number of attacks against Iranian vessels suspected of shipping oil to Syria. Iran has responded with strikes of its own, hitting an Israeli container ship in March. Iran’s Revolutionary Guards said the ship struck in Tuesday’s attack had been stationed in the Red Sea to combat pirates in the area.

[sarcastic-sunshines]

ABIONA AU - Before Abiona Interlude Part 6: Be His Peace

Pairing: T’ Challa x Black!Reader

Warning(s): None

Word Count:  4192

Link to ABIONA by @writingmarvellousimagines

Link to Face claims (2)

Part: (1) (2) (3) (I1) (I2) (4) (I3) (I4) (5) (6) (I5)

Be His Peace

It had been a difficult two weeks for Alix and T’challa. It began when T’challa told her he would not be coming on Wednesday as he normally did. He had to attend a press conference in Vienna after the Avengers incident in Lagos. Alix for some reason had a terrible feeling about T’challa going.

“Just say you will miss me Alixandre” He joked as they laid on their bed on Saturday night before he was supposed to leave early in the morning as he normally did. Alix was nestled warmly in T’challa’s arms as he kissed her head and shoulder. She nervously played with T’challa’s fingers as she smiled at his comment.

“It is not just that babe. Obviously, I will miss you, but I just have this feeling, I don’t know but just promise you will be careful okay. I know you are the Black Panther and all but I just need you in one piece” She said grabbing his hand to kiss it before closing her fingers around his. “I don’t feel comfortable with you leaving so close to the due date. You know we only have a few more weeks until my due date”

“I promise I will be more careful. And I promise that by the next time I come back I will be here for at least three weeks after the baby is here. Do not worry. I will also be using this opportunity to talk to my father about you and the baby moving to Wakanda again.” Alix turned to face T’challa.

“Really? I thought you said it would be better to do it after the baby got here and he could meet them?”

“I did, but I have realized that it is better for us so we can start planning to move after the baby comes. Also, it is time for me as a man to defend my family and I shouldn’t wait because both of you deserve to comfortable. And I cannot wait to show you all my favourite parts of the country” He said as he kissed her cheek.

“Did you happen to take your past flames to these favourite spots as well” T’challa stiffened before speaking.

“Possibly, however that does not matter because that was when I was a different man and Alix you are the only woman in my life. Truly entle, I am here for you and you only and -” Alix giggled as she stopped her nervous lover from his normal word vomit.

“Babe it is okay, I just wanted to see you squirm. I know that wherever we go in Wakanda will be made special by you.”  She said as she kissed his cheek, T’challa released a breath that he did not know that he was holding. “Now if we were going to Brazil I would be a bit worried.” T’challa groaned

“Oh my Bast Alix you will never let that go will you”

“Nope. Goodnight. Have a safe trip okay.” She giggled as T’challa kissed her goodbye and headed to the guest room for the night. Even as she laid to sleep, Alix rubbed her belly but the feeling of imminent trouble didn’t leave her. And it continued through the night and grew as T’challa came to kiss her and the baby goodbye. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’challa sat across from his father as he prepared for his speech. He stared out the window and admired the Vienna skyline. His mind thought of Alix as she walked the streets of Vienna to and from work. Most likely finding a little café where she would often lounge. She loved her time here and hoped that he could bring her and the baby back here. He had begun to grow nervous being here, just because of Alix’s reluctance to have him go. She kept reminding him of a funny feeling she was having. At this point, he was afraid that something might be wrong with the baby and it was not just her instinct. He turned to face his father. 

“ I think you should cut that line out. It sounds a bit redundant” His father looked up from his speech.

“ Thank you uyana wam, I wasn’t sure about that line”

“ What does this mean for Wakanda, signing the accords. Are we not allowing foreign jurisdiction over our sovereignty?”

“ Many theorists have written about the social contract. It is said that for societies and individuals to have peace they most offer some of their freedom in return. That is what Wakanda is doing, we can sit by while our own die in other lands.” T’challa nodded. “It might be time for Wakanda to begin to show itself more in international affairs. I know we as a culture have been against it, but it may be time to help those who need it the most. If we do it smartly, we may be able to succeed without compromising Wakanda’s safety.” T’challa continued to nod surprised at the new position his father had begun to take. What surprised him more is his father’s next question.

“How is Alix, and the baby? She is due soon no?” His father had never asked about Alix nor her pregnancy. He rarely commented on his weekly trips. T’challa had thought his father saw it best for their relationship if it was never discussed.

“She is good and baby is good. We have about three weeks until the baby is supposed to be here” 

“That is good to hear. One's first child is an indescribable journey. The love I felt after meeting you the first time can only be battled by the love I felt when I met Shuri” The pair shared a smile

“Your mother tells me you are getting along better with Alix, have you gotten what you sought out for all those months ago?”

“I think so, Alix and I are happy. Of course, we are moving at the pace she feels comfortable, but we are moving and that is what matters now. I am just happy to know the baby is going to be coming home to a house with two loving parents. Baba, I want to bring up the discussion of the two of them moving to Wakanda. I know you had previously said no but I need to be able to have my family with me, Baba. It isn’t fair for me to have to go back and forth” T’challa began to ramble as he normally did before his father stopped him.

“I hear you uyana wam, and I have begun to agree with you” T’challa looked at his father with surprise and happiness “I have seen you handle your duties so well while still making time for Alix. I am proud of you for that, but you are right it shouldn’t be as strenuous as it has been” Both men turned to face Ayo who let them know it was time to go “We will talk more when the Accords are finished with. You must know, I am excited to meet my grandchild” He said as he got up and patted T’challa’s cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had reassured Alix that he would take care of himself and be back in one piece. So she held onto that reassurance while he was gone. Not until Wednesday rolled around and she got an alert from a colleague at work about the explosion in Vienna. Alix felt the world around her freeze. She immediately began to pick up her things to go to Vienna. Luckily Jules was there to calm her down.

“Woah Alix, you have to sit down, this stress isn’t good for the baby. T’challa will not appreciate missing his child’s birth because you are freaking out. T is fine, I promise, he is probably going to call as soon as the dust settles.” Jules held his sister as he tried to help her stay calm. The siblings moved to her bed and laid facing the ceiling as Jules made her laugh to distract her from her never ending fears. Just like when they were kids and the other needed comfort. When the phone finally rang and T’challa’s voice came through, Alix felt like she was allowed to breathe again.

“I am so happy you are okay.”

“I am fine, please do not stress yourself. I cannot be worried about the two of you while I am gone.”

“Gone? Gone where? You aren’t coming back here?”

“Alix” T’challa took an extended pause trying to control his emotions. “Alix, my father, he died in the explosion. I must return home and proceed with the burial traditions, as well as challenge day. I will be becoming the King of Wakanda. I must go back and do this as quickly as possible so I can be there for you and the baby” Alix was stunned. In her fear of what has happened to T’challa, she had refused to check the news. She was heartbroken, she truly admired T’chaka as a leader and a man despite what had happened. But, truly she was heartbroken for T’challa whose relationship with his father was so strong despite their issues.

“I am so sorry T’challa, how are you taking it? I am here if you need me” T’challa took another pause

“I am fine entle I am as good as I can be. Please just take care of you and the baby okay. Tell them I will be there as soon as I can. And thank Jules for me. I am so grateful for him being there. I love you entle and I will be there as soon as I can.” And with that he was gone again,  for the two weeks he was gone contact was rare. 

It had been foreign to her, T’challa had gone from calling her twice a day when he was usually in Wakanda to a less than 5 minute call each day. The day of the challenge she was nervous but knew that he would win. Luckily Jules had moved into T’challa’s study so  Alix would not be alone, in addition to her mother coming every day to help her. But none of that compared to the comfort that T’challa had made her accustomed to. She continued to send him pictures of her and the baby as a way of saying that she was doing okay. And despite the strain that the distance created T’challa always responded with praises making Alix smile. She was happy to finally hear the joy in his words after challenge day. And that joy continued the next day when he started his rule as King. She was disappointed to hear that he was meant to go to South Korea for his first mission. But again she held on to his reassurance and prayed for a safe return. She again got a call from him about a cousin who he did not know existed and have to do go through with the challenge again. Alix was afraid, the similar indescribable feeling returned. That day she and Jules laid on her bed and he tried to calm his sister’s nerves. But when a call never came, nothing seemed to calm Alix’s nerves. When she didn’t hear anything she grew scared. T’challa had said he would call as soon as everything was done with, and if he didn’t Ayo would come and talk to her in person. As she sat in the nursery stressed out of her mind, Alix still hung on to T’challa’s reassurance. Though he had not called yet, Ayo still hadn’t come so she tightly held on to his promise to come back to her and the baby safely. That night she tossed and turned with no chances of falling asleep. She felt her baby kicking and began to rub her stomach.

“Hey there, you can’t sleep either? Not that you ever really sleep at night. Things have been a bit restless since your Baba left. I know, but he promised he would come back to us. “ Alix began to silently cry in the dark “He has to because I can’t do this without him and I don’t want to. Who is going to sing you that lullaby when you are fussy? He promised he would do that and I am holding him to it. And he still needs to help me pick a name for you. I am not choosing without him so he needs to hurry and come back. He is so excited to meet you, you can probably tell by all the kissing, singing and talking he does with you. He is so excited to be your Baba, he makes me excited even on the days when you test me. I need him to come back because you deserve to meet the amazing man your Baba is and I still have so much to tell him and I don’t want to know that my fear stopped me from saying how I truly feel about him”.

 Suddenly the kimoyo beads T’challa left started flashing. Alix struggled to sit up and reach for them as quickly as her bump would allow. She tapped them just as T’challa had taught her.  She looked up to see T’challa’s tired but alive hologram. 

“Thank God!” and she began to shed tears of joy, “I thought I lost you. You don’t know how happy I am to see you”

“Trust me entle I am thousand times more happy to see you. Please stop crying it is not good for the baby” Alix wiped at her eyes.

“Are you okay T’challa? What happened?” T’challa slowly explained to her what had happened, his words were delicate with his near death experience and his eventual revival. He knew it was a lot of information for the expectant mother, but Alix took it all in strides. She was more happy to know he was fine and wanted him back as soon as possible. But he assured her that he was okay and that he would be back tomorrow.

“I promised I would be back didn’t I. I know it is has been a whirlwind but I back do not worry.”

And that morning as she was about to start her day, T’challa walked through the door. She held onto him for a whole minute, taking in his smell and the comfort that being in his arms gave her. When she finally looked up she saw the sadness in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss her and slowly led her to the bed where they held on to each other as a way of making up for the lost time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

T’challa woke up the next morning feeling nothing like himself. He felt as though he was dragging his body to do simple tasks. It had been a difficult two weeks for him. He thought he could come back and continue his happiness in Paris. But after the dust had settled and he actually had the time to think, his grief replaced his stress in no time. He didn’t get the opportunity to mourn his father, and now it seemed as though his brain was going to take the time. To reflect on what could have been, to think about all the unfinished discussions and lessons he would never get. When he was in Wakanda he had spent every free moment looking at pictures and videos Alix sent of herself to him. He couldn’t wait to get back to her. But now that he was here, he only wanted to be alone. He was overcome with emotions he didn’t want her to see. He wanted to remain strong for her and the baby, He was afraid that the stress of the two weeks would cause her to go into labour or have complications. He thanked Bast for watching over them when he couldn’t. He hoped Bast was still there because he couldn’t find it in him to perform simple tasks. He wasn’t hungry, he would lay in his bed for hours but couldn’t sleep. He would sit in his office but couldn’t find the strength to get anything done. He tried his best to smile for Alix when he was around her, but he knew she was starting to notice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 There was something different about T’challa. He was quieter and less of the jovial person she was used to. She would catch him sitting in his study staring off into space or laying in the bed but not sleeping. He looked exhausted.

“T’challa” The  King jumped at the sound of her voice

“Are you okay?” She asked as he invited her into his lap and kissed her bump.

“Yes, I am fine. Have you had lunch yet?” he smiled but his eyes looked empty.

“Have you had anything to eat at all today? I have barely seen you get up from this chair. Come eat with me” She slowly got up and held his hand to follow. He pulled his hand from her grip and spoke 

“Actually entle I am not too hungry but you go ahead and make sure you and the baby are fed okay.”

She stared at him with skepticism but he kissed her hand and told her he will be there for dinner. Dinner came and T’challa picked at his meal. She watched as he mindlessly went to bed with the sadness written all over his eyes. T’challa continued to wallow in the sadness the next day. She again encouraged him to eat with no avail. By dinner time, Alix was more than ready to get her charming lover back to himself. Unlike T’challa, Alix was not gifted with the magic of stringing words together to create poetry. So she decided to comfort him the best way she knew how. 

She started by going to the store and the bakery down the road. She began to make dinner as Jules walked in.

“Hey sis, I thought T’challa was home why are you pretending to be in the kitchen”

“Well look who it is France’s top comedian. I can cook and pretty well thank you very much. We also had the same teacher so I don’t know why you think you are better than me. T’challa loves my cooking”

“T is also trying to get in your pants so he will say and do anything if it increases his chances” Alix through a dishtowel at Jules who was laughing at his own comment.

 “ What are you making and where is T?”

“Pilau and Lamb, just like we used to have in Kampala. He made it for me a while back. He needs to get some food in his system so I made a meal I know he will appreciate. And I even got his favourite cheesecake from the bakery down the road.”

“What is this? Alix showing affection for the man who has been begging for her attention for months. I need to take a picture for Maman as proof” Alix glared at her brother but turned her head to hide her growing smile.

“He has just been sad since he came back. He went through so much and although he refuses to talk about it I aim to provide at least some comfort just as I know he would for me.”

“Okay well, I am going to leave you to pretend to play house. Save me a plate. I will stop by tomorrow to pick it up.” He said as he kissed his sister goodbye and left. When Alix was done, she was tired but proud of her work. She waddled to T’challa’s study and found him staring off into the distance again.

“Hey babe” He slowly turned to her “Come here I want to show you something” T’challa slowly rose and followed her to the dining area. The smell of the rice hit him and the first time in days he felt hungry. 

“Did you cook? Why didn’t you call me to help?” He became frantic and afraid Alix was overworking herself.

“Don’t worry I am fine and I need to move around anyways. Can you please just eat,” she said as she led him to sit down and served him a plate. She kissed his cheek and sat next to him making sure he finished his plate. T’challa for the first time in a few days began to feel happiness. He was grateful that Alix had thought of him enough to make a meal that meant so much to them and their relationship. He kissed her hand in appreciation.

 T’challa did not struggle to eat today and even went for a little more. 

“ Thank you. This is really good Alix. I mean not as good as when I made it but a close second” she smiled, happy to have him joking with her again. The cheesecake truly lifted T’challa’s spirit. He didn’t realize how much a good meal could help lift his mood.

“Cheesecake is truly one of Bast’s greatest creations”

“Bast didn’t do that. The bakery down the road did”

“I truly believe she was present during the baking process. You cannot change my mind” Alix giggled at his silliness.

 When they were done and had cleared the table, Alix put on Real Housewives of Atlanta, which was T’challa’s favourite installation of the series.

“Hey, come watch with me please.” she patted her lap. As he slowly sat down she again patted her lap for him to lay his head. T’challa lowered himself on to her and allowed Alix to pamper him. She rubbed his ear and his curls just as he liked. She allowed him to make all the commentary he wanted without any ridicule. Alix’s love engulfed him into a serene state. He thanked Bast for bringing a woman into his life who knew when he needed his love the most, even when he could not say it himself. As he laid on her lap, he was sure he had begun to feel his body become light again. 

“Though I have seen this episode, I am still unsure as to why Porsha came on the girls' trip knowing that Kandi was going to call her out for her rumours. Could that make any less sense? I do not know why I watch this. ” Alix smiled as he rambled on. During a commercial break, he grew silent. He finally spoke but it was slower and seemed more reserved than T’challa normally was.

“Being back here is the first time it is truly hitting me that he is gone. Though  I met with him in the planes, the fact I know he won’t ever back have really rocked me these past few days.” Alix wiped away the few tears T’challa had let fall. “He will never be able to meet our baby, and it so funny because when I brought up the two you coming home with me he was willing to talk about it. He said we would go further into detail after the conference. He even said he was excited to meet his first grandchild. Now that will never happen and it truly breaks my heart knowing that.” T’challa began to cry a bit harder. “I thought if I came here and was strong for you and the baby I would be able to forget, but the sadness has taken over my body” Alix wiped at his eyes again

 “T’challa you do not always have to be tough for me or the baby. You don't have to hold it in. Let me be the strong one for you sometimes. Let me be the shoulder you cry on. And know this, your father may not have gotten the opportunity to fully amend this issue, but I know for a fact he is proud of the man and King you have become. And you are going to be an amazing Baba. His memory lives in you, so make sure you do great things with it.” 

T’challa got off her lap to give Alix a kiss before lowering himself back on her lap.  “Thank you entle I truly feel a sense of relief in your arms. “

“Don’t thank me for doing my job.”

“Who knew that the hungriest and crankiest pregnant woman could be this kind” Alix laughed out loud almost as though she was thanking God for the small sense of normalcy that had returned.

“There is my baby daddy. Always taking my good gestures for granted” They both laughed as T’challa snuck a kiss to her hand. They went back to watching the show with T’challa’s added commentary that made Alix giggle. 

 Even in his stage of sadness, Alix’ s proximity to T’challa still made her feel at home in her own apartment.  Alix’s comfort had allowed T’challa to open and release a sea of emotion he did not realize he was holding. In her arms, the world stood still and waited for him. He had never felt a sense of peace as he did with Alix. He thanked Bast for providing him with a woman like Alix. More importantly, he thanked Bast for providing him with more time to enjoy the mother of his child and making her his inner peace. 

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Taglist:

@writingmarvellousimagines @chaneajoyyy @oceanscorazon @teechallas-blog @ashanti-notthesinger @wakanda-inspired @90sinspiredgirl @lovely-geek @fd-writes @chefjessypooh @imagine-mbaku @dopegalkk @liyahshaeking

[alexsmitposts]

China Breaks the Western Debt Stranglehold on the World The west has colonized, exploited, ravaged and assassinated the people of the Global South for hundreds of years. Up to the mid-20th Century Europe has occupied Africa, and large parts of Asia. In Latin America, though much of the sub-Continent was “freed” from Spain and Portugal in the 19th Century – a new kind of colonization followed by the new Empire of the United States – under the so-called Monroe Doctrine, named after President James Monroe (1817 -1825), forbidding Europeans to interfere in any “American territory”. Latin America was then and is again today considered Washington’s Backyard. In the last ten years or so, Washington has launched the Monreo Doctrine 2.0. This time expanding the interference policy beyond Europe – to the world. Democratic sovereign governments in Latin America that could choose freely their political and economic alliances in the world are not tolerated. China, entering into partnership agreements with Latin American countries, sought after vividly by the latter – is condemned by the US and the west, especially vassalic Europe. Therefore, democratically elected center-left governments had to be “regime-changed’ – Honduras, Argentina, Chile, Ecuador, Brazil, Peru, Paraguay. So far, they stumbled over Venezuela, Cuba, Nicaragua – and maybe Mexico. Venezuela and Cuba are being economically strangled to exhaustion. But they are standing tall as pillars in defending the Latin American Continent – with economic assistance and military advice from China and Russia. *** Latin America is waking up – and so is Africa. In Latin America, street protests against the US / IMF imposed debt trap and de consequential austerity programs, making the rich richer and the poor poorer, are raging in Honduras, Nicaragua, Ecuador, Chile, Argentina and even in Brazil. In Argentina, in a democratic election this past weekend, 27 October, the people deposed neoliberal President Macri. He was put in the Presidency via “tricked” elections by Washington in 2015. Macri ruined the prosperous country in his 4 year-reign. He privatized public services and infrastructure, education, health, transportation – and more, leading to hefty tariff increases, worker layoffs, unemployment and poverty. Poverty, at about 15% in 2015, when Macri took office, soared to over 40% in October 2019. In 2018 Macri contracted the largest ever IMF loan of US$ 57.2 billion – a debt trap, if there was ever one. The new, just elected Fernandez-Fernandez center-left Government will have to devise programs to counter the impact of this massive debt. All over in Latin America, people have had enough of the US / western imposed austerity and simultaneous exploitation of their natural resources. They want change – big style. They seek to detach from the economic and financial stranglehold of the west. They are looking for China and Russia as new partners in trade and in financial contracts. The same in Africa – neocolonialism by the west, mostly France and the UK, through financial oppression, unfair trading deals and wester imposed – and militarily protected – despotic and corrupt leaders, has kept Africa poor and desolate after more than 50 years of so-called Independence. Africa is arguably still the Continent with the most natural resources the west covets and needs to preserve its luxury life style and continuous armament. People, who do not conform, especially younger politicians and economists, who protest and speak out, because they see clearly through the western imposed economic crimes committed on a daily basis, are simply assassinated or otherwise silenced. Here too, Africans are quietly seeking to move out of the claws of the west, seeking new relations with China and Russia. The recent Russian-African summit in Sochi was a vivid example. China is invited to build infrastructure, fast trains, roads, ports and industrial parks – and the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) is more than welcomed in Africa, as it projects common and equal development for all to benefit. BRI is the epitome for building a Community with a Shared Future for Mankind. China also offers a gradual release from the US / western dominated dollar-debt claws. Freeing a country from the dollar-based economy, is freeing it from the vulnerability of US / western imposed sanctions. This is an enormous relief that literally every country of the Global South – and possibly even Europe – is hoping for. However, as could be expected, the west, led by the US of A, is pouncing China for engaging in “debt trap diplomacy”. Exactly the contrary of what is actually happening. The truth is, though, countries throughout the world, be it in Africa, Asia, South Pacific and Latin America, are choosing to partner with China by their free will. According to a statement by a high-level African politician “China does not force or coerce us into a deal, we are free to choose and negotiate a win-win situation.” – That says it all. The difference between the west and east is stark. While anybody and any country that does not agree with the US dictate and doctrine, risks being regime-changed or bombed, China does not impose her new Silk Road – the BRI – to any country. China invites, respecting national sovereignty. Who wants to join is welcome to do so. That applies as much to the Global South, as it does to Europe. China’s President Xi Jinping launched the BRI in 2013. In 2014 Mr. Xi visited Madame Merkel in Germany, offering her to be at that time the western-most link to the BRI. Ms. Merkel under the spell of Washington, declined. President Xi returned and China continued working quietly on this fabulous worldwide economic development project – BRI – THE economic venture of the 21st Century, so massive that it was incorporated in 2017 into the Chinese Constitution. It took the west however 6 years to acknowledge this new version of the more than 2000-year-old Silk Road. Only in 2019, the western mainstream media started reporting on the BRI – and always negatively, of course. The preaching was and still is – beware of the Chinese Dragon, they will dominate you and everything you own with their socialism. This train of thought is typically western. Aggression seems to be in the genes of western societies, of western culture, as the hundreds of years of violent and despotic colonization and exploitation – and ongoing – are proving. Does it have to do with western monotheistic doctrines? – This is pure speculation, of course. Again, the truth is multi-fold. – First, China does not have a history of invasion. China seeks a peaceful and egalitarian development of trade, science and foremost human wellbeing – a Tao tradition of non-aggression. Second, despite the “warnings” from the throne of the falling empire, about a hundred countries have already subscribed to participate in BRI – and that voluntarily. And third, China and Russia and along with them the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) are in a solid economic and defense alliance which encompasses close to half of the world population and about one third of the globes total economic output. Hence, SCO members are – or may be, if they so choose – largely detached from the dollar hegemony. The western privately run and Wall Street controlled monetary transfer system, SWIFT, is no longer needed by SCO countries. They deal in local currencies and / or through the Chinese Interbank Payment System (CIPS). It is no secret, that the empire, headquartered in Washington, is gradually decaying, economically as well as militarily. It’s just a matter of time. How much time, is difficult to guess. But Washington’s everyday behavior of dishing out sanctions left and right, disrupting international monetary transactions, confiscating and stealing other countries assets around the world, puts ever more nails in the Empire’s coffin. By doing this, America is herself committing economic and monetary suicide. Who wants to belong to a monetary system that can act willy-nilly to a county’s detriment? There is no need for outside help for this US-sponsored pyramid fiat monetary system to fall. It’s a house of cards that is already crumbling by its own weight. The US dollar was some 20-25 years ago still to the tune of 90% the domineering reserve currency in the world. Today that proportion has declined to less than 60% – and falling. It is being replaced primarily by the Chinese yuan as the new reserve currency. This is what the US-initiated trade war is all about – discrediting the yuan, a solid currency, based on China’s economy – and on gold. “Sanctioning” the Chinese economy with US tariffs, is supposed to hurt the yuan, to reduce its competition with the dollar as a world reserve currency. To no avail. The yuan is a worldwide recognized solid currency, the currency of the second largest economy. By some standards, like accounted by PPP (Purchasing Power Parity), the most important socioeconomic indicator for mankind, China is since 2017 the world’s number one economy. This, and other constant attacks by Washington, is a typical desperate gesture of a dying beast – thrashing wildly left and right and above and below around itself to bring down into its grave as many perceived adversaries as possible. There is of course a clear danger that this fight for the empire’s survival might end nuclear – god forbid! China’s and Russia’s policy, philosophy and diplomacy of non-aggression may save the world from extinction – including the people of the United States of America.

[aaroncutler]

October 2nd: The link above leads to the website of the Brazilian film festival Olhar de Cinema (“Cinema View”), traditionally realized in physical form in the city of Curitiba, which this year will take place online from October 7th through 15th. (The English-language version of the site can be found here.) Anyone that has followed the news lately will likely understand the reasoning behind the change in format: The surge of COVID-19 throughout Brazil, and the financial crisis accompanying the pandemic, have made the realization of a physical festival impossible at this time. The current reality shines more than clearly from my home in São Paulo, where theaters (along with museums, concert halls, and other cultural spaces) have been forcibly closed in the name of public safety since early March and won’t reopen before mid-October at the earliest. Such forced shutdowns also explain why I have been absent from this blog since February – with the postponements of the Mutual Films Sessions and other physical programming possibilities, I have felt that there has simply been no activity to report.

One could, of course, say in response that there has been lots of activity to report. The great filmmakers Bruce Baillie, Sarah Maldoror, and Nobuhiko Obayashi all passed away during one week in April, joining a number of amazing film artists that we have lost in these past months such as Olivia De Havilland, Michael Lonsdale, Ennio Morricone, Michel Piccoli, Luther Price, and Brazilian filmmakers and researchers including Suzana Amaral, Arlindo Machado, Saulo Pereira de Mello, and Sérgio Ricardo. Cinematheques and repertory theaters around the world have been threatened with extinction, including invaluable repositories of film history such as the National Oleksandr Dovzhenko Film Centre in Ukraine and the Cinemateca Brasileira in Brazil. The most recent editions of high-profile festivals around the world such as BAFICI, Cannes, Cinéma du Réel, Courtisane, Karlovy Vary, Locarno, TIFF, and others were all significantly altered (either canceled or severely diminished in scope), and the seeming majority of other film events realized since March have either gone hybrid (physical/virtual) or been forced entirely online.

Such was the case with Olhar de Cinema, where I have worked as a film programmer since 2017, and for which I continued my role on the selection committee for feature-length films this year alongside Carla Italiano, Camila Macedo, Eduardo Valente, and the festival’s artistic director, Antônio Gonçalves Junior. The 2020 edition of the festival was originally scheduled to take place in June, but by mid-March, it became clear that the edition would need to be postponed if it were to take place at all. Olhar’s team (led by Antônio and the festival’s executive director, Eugenia Castello) chose a set of dates in October in the interest of waiting as long as they believed they could before beginning to plan the 2021 edition, and also with the hope that a delay of four months would allow for physical screenings. The directorship decided by early August, however, that this year’s edition could only take place if it were 100% virtual.

I once again stress that this decision was not mine in order to make clear that, once it was made, I chose to support it. I understand that, in the ideal, a festival’s editions should be held with regularity, since one of the chief functions of a festival is commemorative. Each time out therefore should be different, as a way of recognizing and honoring the changes that occur around the event (in its city, its country, its world) between each realization.

At the same time, I have felt inspired by some acts of resistance that I’ve seen taking place in the film world in response to the virtual (not digital) sphere’s rise. These included a number of rejections from filmmakers and their collaborators whose films we invited for this year’s edition, which they made with the justification of preferring to wait for an opportunity for physical screenings, even if their work was to be become ineligible for future screenings with Olhar. I cannot salute enough the courage that I perceive in such artists for challenging the value so commonly afforded to premiere status in the interest of seeking their ideal screening conditions. Some might say that their position courts irrelevance; I believe that it signals faith and trust in the work to find its audience, and in the audience to find the work in return.

I have also valued the gestures of festivals whose organizers believed they could operate only in physical fashion, with this year’s Bergamo Film Meeting and the archaic heroism of its cancellation notice’s closing line coming to mind in addition to other events already named. While an online festival often proffers a kind of fictitious declaration of independence by streaming films through its own website (while remaining quite dependent on a number of online elements), a physical festival more than ever now exists in solidarity with people charged with operating physical screens. The physical option adds value to the work of cinematheques, cultural centers, repertory houses, and first-run commercial venues alike through the extent to which it highlights traditional pedagogical aspects of cinema – not only what individual films can teach us, but also what it means in essence to watch a film in a theater, both in aesthetic terms and in social terms, which I believe work together to raise consciousness of how each audience member relates to his or her surrounding world. A small-screen projection can of course help raise this consciousness to some extent, but on a big screen, the lessons are amplified, and one’s perspective on them changes as a result.

So I made a deal inside myself and was glad to find unified support among my colleagues. While Olhar’s Retrospective section has always been one of the calling cards of the festival, it is a section that I have also always understood as being both physical in nature and timely rather than time-sensitive; as a result, I made clear my unwillingness to work on an online retrospective in 2020, and the festival’s team eventually decided not to mount any retrospective at all before 2021. Everyone stayed more open to the possibility of a significantly reduced online version of the festival’s Classics section – which has also frequently been a drawing point for Olhar’s audiences, due to the organization’s consistent ability to offer crucial intersections of strong and historically important films in good-quality restorations with suitable projection conditions – but once this section’s screenings proved logistically impracticable to mount, our group proved able to swiftly move on.

We stayed committed from the beginning, however, to presenting panoramas of new films which, as always, would represent our best efforts to showcase highlights from recent Paraná-based, Brazilian, and international film-making. (These include the festival’s Focus section, whose spotlight this year on Brazilian filmmaker Daniel Nolasco emphasizes the continuing importance of recognizing directorial authorship and its individual touch.) The sad reality is that most of these films, doomed as they are to no or limited distribution in Brazil, would likely never screen in theaters in the country if it were not for festivals and other specialized events. And, as a result of the current moment, they do indeed run the risk of not screening at all here in the foreseeable future if they don’t screen online before one or another turn of the calendar. This year’s slate of new films and potential audience members deserve to be introduced to each other at least as much as similar matches have deserved to be made in the past. We also all deserve – and need – to be continually reminded that there exists a world beyond that of commercial cinema. We all deserve to breathe fresh air.

I won’t list recommendations here for specific films from Olhar’s program, since I understand that the echo chamber of any festival (physical or online) makes it so that works compete with each other for a viewer’s attention. But I will cite a few practical resources to help audience members make informed choices regarding what to view. The most comprehensive, indeed, is the festival’s own website, where all the films from this year’s selection are listed along with trailers and original synopses and filmmaker interviews, as well as a downloadable general screening guide and a listing of seminars and other non-screening events. Much of the audiovisual material available on the site can also be viewed through the festival’s YouTube channel. A recording of special note is that of a Portuguese-language roundtable discussion held earlier this week with all of the festival’s current programmers (the aforementioned features programmers, plus the three shorts programmers), in which we discuss issues related to mounting this year’s edition and name some personal highlights.

Each one of Olhar’s films this year will be made available for screening on two separate days, each time during a 24-hour-long period from 6 A.M. to the following 5:59 A.M. Tickets are five Brazilian reais (less than one dollar) for each feature or shorts program. The showings will take place exclusively on devices within the Brazilian territory, which points up a bittersweet irony of our virtual moment. The festival’s outreach will likely be the widest that it has ever been this year, in the sense that viewers throughout this large country will be able to watch a shared body of films without needing to gather in one city. At the same time, those who would have been willing and able to travel will now be unable to physically meet each other or the festival’s guests. The now-virtual guests include filmmakers from Brazil and many other countries, who provided wonderfully generous and informative interviews recorded before the festival, but won’t be on hand for more spontaneous and developed conversations during it, and a remarkable group of curators representing countries such as Brazil, Chile, France, Germany, Holland, India, and Japan who have been preparing to make their jury deliberations from home.

These points of sadness and others, in my mind, address the extent to which Olhar de Cinema’s 2020 edition will not be bringing the world into living rooms. It will be bringing many good things, however, which my colleagues and I hope with all our hearts for interested people to discover. I personally also hope for people to watch and love the films with something of a dual consciousness – to fall hard and deeply in love with some films to the point of urging for theaters to show them. The cinema constructs and presents visions of the world in order to point to possible worlds. And in this sense and others, I hope for Olhar and its audiences to work together to inspire change. A bit of dissatisfaction can be healthy. 

*

November 1st: The act of watching the awards ceremony on the festival’s closing night brought the strangely disorienting and familiar sensation of being confronted with another person’s happiness. In fact, the sensation came from seeing multiple peoples’ happiness, beginning with the awarded filmmakers. Each of them gave the impression of feeling genuine gratitude towards the festival, and each one emitted the feeling that the prize held legitimate value and meaning for him or her.

I found their sensations remarkable for a number of reasons, both in relation to the awarded films and in relation to questions beyond them. Most pressingly, it struck me that the filmmakers valued the prizes awarded by an online edition of the festival at least as much as they would have valued prizes given by an edition of the festival held in physical form. I also sensed from the jury members at least the same levels of commitment and responsibility towards their work as they would have shown in a physical festival, and from my colleagues that appeared on camera, a double feeling familiar from the closings of festivals past: Relief and pleasure for having gotten through the thing, combined with an already mounting nostalgia for what had come to pass.

Which therefore raises the question: What, in fact, had come to pass? I could say that I wasn’t there, and that no one else was, either. I could also say that I and many other people were following and keeping track. I could point to an absence of physical gathering spaces, a lack of crowds, and an inability to hold spontaneous conversations with strangers outside screening rooms where films had been projected on DCP with the physical presence of guests. I could also point to the astonishing number of reviews of the festival’s films published by critics (many of them pertaining to outlets that were themselves native to online), which were in turn frequently shared by the festival’s filmmakers, one of whom told me that he had never seen so much attention paid to short films in particular. I could further point to the concrete numbers of online tickets sold, with several films attaining their maximum number of available entries; to the concrete numbers of views received by the online recordings of the festival’s free filmmaker interviews and roundtable talks; and to the myriad comments made about films by audience members across social media.

The essence of cinema is material, but its essence is also ephemeral. As I hold absences and presences side by side in my mind, I perceive Olhar’s organizers working this year to create an umbrella under which disparate and previously unrelated things could be gathered to form a kind of temporary shelter from the chaos of the world outside. In other words: They created a festival.

In relation to this, I find myself somehow both divided and resolved. I personally feel home viewing to be inherently unsatisfying; although most of the films I watch are seen at home, I generally direct my viewing towards work or research purposes, and make every effort to save films that I’m interested in seeing out of curiosity or leisure for the day when I can watch them projected in theatrical conditions. I agree with what the critic Dave Kehr once wrote for the magazine Chicago in an article about home video in September of 1986: “It’s just simple human kindness to give every film its best shot and see it the way it was meant to be seen - in a big room, in the dark, and with other people.”

At the same time, I would add a qualification: “When realistically possible.” And in this regard, I do not remember ever feeling prouder of my association with Olhar de Cinema than I have in relation to this year’s edition, for which the festival’s organizers committed to the event’s survival precisely by embracing possibilities online. As should be the goal of any festival, they offered a tremendous public service, and if that offering ultimately felt incomplete, then perhaps that is partly because, in a way, every festival should. Festivals are often most satisfying in their achievements when they succeed in pointing to worlds outside themselves, and in indicating that they themselves are not enough.

All of which leads me back to the strangeness of our current moment. Since the ending of this year’s edition of Olhar de Cinema less than three weeks ago, no fewer than four notable Brazilian festivals (some of which had been previously postponed and some of which were held on their originally scheduled dates) have unrolled online in quick succession, with several more to come before year’s end. Physical cinemas have also gradually begun reopening (with expected restrictions on showtimes, ticket sales, and audience comportment) throughout Brazil during this time. In São Paulo, since mid-October, Mariana Shellard and I have had the fortune of watching multiple fine new restorations of Krzystof Kieślowski’s fiction features, as well as a beautifully restored copy of 8 ½. I don’t believe that any of these screenings have counted with the presence of more than ten spectators - paltry numbers, even if limited seating capacity is taken into account.

Two different audience experiences are therefore unfolding now along parallel tracks. In one sphere, online festivals break records for audience turnout and feedback, with outright celebration expressed by many people who – for reasons of distance, economics, and other life circumstances – would likely not have attended these events if they had been held in their traditional forms. In another sphere, commercial cinemas offer strong programming in efforts to entice potential audience members that, by and large, claim health and safety as justifications for not wanting to come.

I accept the idea that, if physical cinemas in Brazil are allowed to continue to stay open, then their audience sizes will naturally grow over the coming months. Still, one can easily imagine a dystopian narrative in which interesting films become increasingly available to watch, yet only in private domestic contexts, while public screenings are given over more and more to Hollywood and other studio products whose costly advertising campaigns offer more creativity than the films themselves do. Within this narrative, repertory theaters – which have never been profitable businesses – subsist on funding from governments and the private sector to an extent that they never have before.

This scenario disturbs me profoundly in the short term, especially since the various maneuvers that we have seen around the world in relation to quarantines and lockdowns give rude reminders that, for governments, culture is truly a low priority. But in the long term, I see some hope in the possibility of so-called alternative venues staying open due to their operators’ belief that there continues to be an audience for what they screen and the personalized care with which they screen it, and in the possibility of the audience rewarding this belief in return. I also like to think about festivals returning to physical spaces (no matter how much space they have in them) as a way of showing to audiences that they never truly left, but rather used the time they spent away to expand their outreach and possibilities.

At the very least, this is my hope. The fact of not being alone in hoping is, as it has always been, a point of lasting comfort.

[sciencespies]

Twelve Anniversaries and Events Worth Traveling for in 2020

https://sciencespies.com/history/twelve-anniversaries-and-events-worth-traveling-for-in-2020/

Twelve Anniversaries and Events Worth Traveling for in 2020

SMITHSONIANMAG.COM | Jan. 24, 2020, 1:50 p.m.

What better way to kick off a new decade than by planning a trip? If you’re hoping to fill the next ten years by seeing new sights, learning about other cultures, taking in history or relaxing on an endless white-sand beach, Smithsonian magazine has curated a list of destinations worth considering for 2020. Some will host once-in-a-lifetime athletic competitions (Tokyo and the Summer Olympics), others boast world-class art exhibitions (Rome and New York City) and still others allow visitors to experience wonders of the natural world (El Morro, New Mexico, or Ilha Grande and Paraty, Brazil). Read on, and happy traveling.

Japan’s new 68,000-seat National Stadium, designed by the architect Kengo Kuma.

(Arne Müseler via Wikimedia Commons under CC BY-SA 3.0 DE)

In 1964, Tokyo became the first city in Asia to host the Olympics, and this summer, the Japanese capital will serve as the summer Games’ venue once again. With the 2020 Olympics (July 24-August 9, followed by the Paralympics August 25-September 6) comes a brand-new, $1.43-billion main stadium built with timber from each of Japan’s 47 prefectures as well as five new sporting events: skateboarding, baseball and softball, surfing, sports climbing (think lightning-quick, spider-like wall-scaling—here’s a video) and karate.

Even without a coveted Olympics ticket—the Wall Street Journal recently forecasted that a Tokyo seat “looks like the toughest Olympic ticket ever”—Japan’s biggest metropolis has plenty to offer tourists: the bustle of Harajuku shopping district, the crowded-but-orderly Shibuya Crossing, conveyer-belt sushi restaurants, the traditional izakayas that line “Piss Alley,” a fashion exhibit at the National Art Center, views from 2,000 feet up in the Tokyo Skytree and the animated film company Studio Ghibli’s headquarters. 2020 also marks the centennial of Meiji Jingu, a mid-city oasis (volunteers planted 100,000 donated trees that have grown towering in the intervening century) and active Shinto shrine dedicated to a former imperial couple. Meiji-Tenno-Sai, the memorial day of Emperor Meiji, falls on July 30, during the Olympics; the 19th- and 20th-century monarch will be commemorated in a Shinto ceremony, and the affiliated Treasure Museum will waive its usual entry fee. In November, the three-day autumn festival at Meiji Jingu takes place. Expect to see traditional Noh theater, sumo, horseback archery and more.

Tokyo’s first time hosting the Olympics was intended to be 1940, but World War II disrupted those plans, and it’s that global conflict that led to another anniversary this year: 75 years have passed since the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The first (and only) use of nuclear weapons in war, the attacks killed an estimated 275,000 people. This devastating event for Japan is commemorated at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, where a permanent exhibit lays out the belongings of many who died in the strike. The memorial itself—known as the Genbaku Dome—has been preserved exactly as the one-time exhibition hall looked in the immediate aftermath of the bombing. In the port city of Nagasaki, feel the weight of this history at the Atomic Bomb Museum and nearby memorial, the Peace Park and the Atomic Bomb Hypocenter Park, where a lone column pinpoints the spot above which the bomb burst. Both cities are accessible by a combination of shinkansen—bullet trains that debuted for the 1964 Olympics—and express trains.

(Corey Templeton via Flickr under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

On March 15, 1820, Maine separated from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and became the nation’s 23rd state. As a part of the Missouri Compromise, Maine joined the union as a free state, while Missouri entered it as a slave state, maintaining the balance between free and slave states in the nation. Now, Maine’s hosting a year-long birthday bash, commemorating 200 years of statehood.

Leading the state’s official commemoration is the Maine Bicentennial Commission, a group of politicians, curators, historians, educators and others organizing a series of events and offering grants to communities throughout the state looking to stage parades, lectures and exhibitions. Among the grant winners is Rockland’s Center for Maine Contemporary Art, which is presenting an exhibition this summer of photographer S.B. Walker’s visual record of contemporary life in Maine. On Statehood Day, March 15, the public is invited to musical performances and speeches—and to enjoy a slice of cake—in the Augusta Armory. The commission will also hold a Bicentennial Parade in Auburn-Lewiston on May 16, that promises to be chock full of state pride. Kicking off in Boothbay Harbor on June 26, the traveling Tall Ships Festival brings a month of dockside activities, such as concerts, fireworks and community races, as it makes stops in Rockland, Bangor, Brewer, Bucksport, Castine, Searsport and Belfast.

To soak up more of the state’s history, head to some of its many landmarks. Sitting atop the Munjoy Hill in Portland is the oldest maritime signal tower in the United States. Built in 1807, the Portland Observatory was tasked with sending signals to ships entering the harbor, but today, it offers visitors spectacular views of the city during spring months, when it is open for visitors. The Italianate Villa-style Victoria Mansion, in Portland’s Arts District, was built in 1860 as a summer house for wealthy hotel magnate and Maine native Ruggles Sylvester Morse. Opening its doors for the season in May, visitors can experience this national historical landmark with all its luxurious staircases and chandeliers.

One of the Raphael Rooms in the Vatican Museums in Vatican City.

(Juergen Ritterbach / Alamy)

Home to a rich history of classical art, Rome should be a destination on every art lover’s map. Among the artists that fell in love with the city, decorating its walls and chapels with masterpieces, is Raphael—a member of the great trio of High Renaissance art including Leonardo and Michelangelo. To honor the legacy Raphael built in Rome, the city is commemorating the 500th anniversary of his death throughout the year. The Ministry of Culture has organized a mega-exhibition, simply titled “Raphael,” at the Scuderie del Quirinale (March 5-June 2, 2020) that will feature more than 200 of Raphael’s pieces, including the famous Madonna del Granduca (1506-1507) and La Donna Valata (1512-1515). Jointly organized with the Uffizi, which provided over 40 works, the exhibition will include masterpieces never before seen together, on loan from Paris’ Louvre, London’s National Gallery and Madrid’s Prado among others. The celebrations of the artist are not limited to Italy, however; the National Gallery in London is running an exhibition from October 3, 2020 until January 24, 2021 that explores Raphael’s career through his masterpieces.

To fully experience Raphael’s artistic mastery, visit the four rooms in the Vatican Museums, filled with graceful portraits and ornate frescoes, that he and others in his workshop painted between 1508 and 1524. With religious themes and brilliant details, these rooms are the epitome of Italian high renaissance. Another destination that should not be missed is the ancient Pantheon in Rome—inspired by its beautiful architecture, Raphael requested it to be the place of his eternal rest. This spectacular temple has stood for over 2,000 years, and it is one of the best-preserved monuments of Ancient Rome.

Paraty and Ilha Grande, Brazil

Colorful doors in the colonial town of Paraty on Brazil’s coast.

(Christoph Diewald via Flickr under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

One of UNESCO’s newest World Heritage sites lies on the Brazilian coast between Rio and São Paulo. Paraty, population 43,000, was a port town once critical to the gold and slave trades, and it retains much of its 18th-century colonial architecture and cobblestone streets, making it “one of the best preserved colonial coastal towns in Brazil,” according to UNESCO. Trek up the Morro da Vila Velha hill to see archaeological sites, the first European settlement from the mid-16th century, as well as a fort built two centuries later.

The UNESCO-designated site also includes four nearby protected areas, famed for their biodiversity, that are home to jaguars, a myriad of rainforest frogs and mustachioed, pig-like mammals known as white-lipped peccaries. Travelers can relax on the undeveloped Lopes Mendes beach (for the outdoorsy, you can even hike from a nearby village to this sandy destination) on the island of Ilha Grande or kayak through mangroves near Paraty. Serra da Bocaina National Park, meanwhile, attests to the region’s history with a portion of the paved gold route, or Caminho do Ouro, and the ruins of a building devoted to weighing and taxing that gold.

About 12 miles from Paraty is the Quilombo Campinho da Independência. Quilombos are settlements, often in remote areas, founded by people who escaped slavery. This particular quilombo has a restaurant serving African-influenced Brazilian food as well as a handicraft shop. In the restaurant’s lounge, groups can listen as old and young quilombonas share their experiences (the conversations are translated into English or Spanish) in a “storytelling wheel.”

The capitol building in Nashville, where the 19th Amendment secured Tennessee’s crucial vote to adopt it into the Constitution.

(Jelle Drok via Flickr under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Nashville earned the moniker “Music City” for a reason, but the Tennessee capital made our list not for its fantastic music scene but because Nashville is where the decisive and dramatic vote to add the 19th Amendment—women’s suffrage—to the Constitution took place. Three quarters of the states needed to sign onto the 19th Amendment for it to be ratified, and in August 1920, Tennessee became the crucial 36th state. A young state legislator, Harry T. Burn, switched political sides following a persuasive letter from his mother and cast a tie-breaking vote in favor of suffrage.

A spate of performances and special exhibitions will mark the centennial. On March 27, the Tennessee State Museum will open an 8,000-square-foot exhibition tracing the state’s suffrage movement from its early, post-Civil-War days to the final vote, while the main Nashville Library is hosting its own “Votes for Women” exhibit, showcasing political cartoons and plenty of kid-friendly interactives. One block away, the opulent Hermitage Hotel, once the epicenter of pro- and anti-suffrage lobbying, displays objects from the political fracas, including a telegram congratulating famous suffragist Carrie Chapman Catt, who stayed at the hotel, on the victory.

Music lovers can also add suffrage-themed performances to the itinerary (along with Nashville classics like the Grand Ole Opry or Bluebird Café). In September, the Nashville Symphony will stage the world premiere of Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Julia Wolfe’s new suffrage-inspired work, played and sung by an all women’s chorus and full orchestra. On August 2, the Nashville Opera will put on a one-night-only event where talented local vocalists sing songs, like “Since My Margarette Became a Suffragette” and “She’s Good Enough To Be Your Baby’s Mother and She’s Good Enough To Vote With You,” used to fight for (and against) women’s right to vote. Nashville Ballet, later this year, will premiere 72 Steps, a newly choreographed work named for the number of steps to the Nashville capitol building that recounts the struggle for suffrage in Tennessee. For visual arts aficionados, the Frist Art Museum will display locally-made artwork inspired by Nashville residents’ personal stories about their first times voting.

Star trails above Inscription Rock in El Morro National Monument.

(NPS: Derek Wallentinsen)

Interested in seeing the Milky Way? Away from city lights, El Morro National Monument, about a two hour drive west of Albuquerque, offers a spectacular view of stars, galaxies and planets. In fact, the International Dark Sky Association recently named El Morro an International Dark Sky Park—a recognition that allows the park to host more astronomy-based educational programming and improve its energy efficiency through outdoor lighting upgrades.

Made even more awe-inspiring by a starry backdrop, the monument is an impressive record of more than 2,000 inscriptions dating back 1,000 years—petroglyphs carved by Ancestral Puebloans and signatures of Spanish settlers and later pioneers—on a 200-foot tall sandstone cliff. If the next couple events on the park’s calendar are any indication of what’s in store, there will be presentations on the hidden colors of the night sky, tours of the constellations and opportunities for visitors to observe these phenomenon for themselves through a telescope. The summer months, with warmer weather and greater visibility, will allow for even more activities, including a celebration of the Dark Sky Park certification.

Nelson Mandela’s capture site.

(Darren Glanville via Wikimedia Commons under CC BY-SA 2.0)

Africa’s southernmost country will commemorate two anniversaries tied to the apartheid era and the political struggle that ultimately ended apartheid and made South Africa a democracy. Thirty years ago, in 1990, anti-apartheid activist and African National Congress leader Nelson Mandela—at the time, arguably the world’s most famous political prisoner—became a free man after serving 27 years of a lifetime prison sentence for “sabotage” against the government. Mandela’s release in combination with a number of other events ultimately steered South Africa to its first democratic elections—open to South Africans of all ethnicities—in 1994, through which Mandela became president.

Spots that honor Mandela’s life and legacy crisscross South Africa. Robben Island, where Mandela spent the bulk of his time in prison holed up in a 7-by-9-foot cell, offers four tours daily, and visitors have the opportunity to learn from guides with unique credentials—they were former Robben Island political prisoners themselves. In April, long-distance swimmers compete in the 4.6-mile “Freedom Swim” from Robben Island to the shores of Cape Town. A two-hour plane flight away in Johannesburg, the Apartheid Museum traces how the state came to sponsor the system of segregation starting in 1948 and then, nearly 50 years later, dismantle it. (It also boasts an exhibition about the life of the man many South Africans call Tata—“father” in Xhosa—Mandela.) The roadside site near coastal Durban where police captured Mandela in 1962 is now marked with a remarkable steel-bar sculpture depicting the leader’s face in profile; upgrades to make the destination more tourist-friendly will be completed by August 2020.

2020 also marks 60 years since the Sharpeville massacre, when police opened fire on thousands of people peacefully protesting pass laws, which required black South Africans to carry identifying documents and limited where they could work or live. Police killed 69 and injured more than 180 people at the protest, sparking national and international outcry; Nelson Mandela and other African National Congress. leaders burned their own passes. March 21, the day of the tragedy, is now Human Rights Day in South Africa. Constitution Hill, a prison-complex-turned-museum in Johannesburg, will mark the occasion with a four-day Human Rights Festival with panel discussions, social-justice-related visual art and photography exhibits, performances, a human rights book fair and a groundbreaking for the Museum and Archive of the Constitution at the Hill, which the Huffington Post reports will document “the making of the South African Constitution—from its African origins in the fight against colonialism, segregation and apartheid until the present.” Visitors to the Constitution Hill museums can, as always, visit the cell Mandela stayed at while imprisoned at Old Fort and learn about the people who were held in inhumane conditions at the Women’s Jail and Number Four (where Mahatma Gandhi was once held behind bars).

During Prohibition, Green Mill was favorite speakeasy of mobsters like Al Capone, who the band would greet with a rendition of “Rhapsody in Blue.”

(Bruce Yuanyue Bi / Alamy)

On January 17, 1920, the Prohibition Act officially took effect, stipulating that “no person shall manufacture, sell, barter, transport, import, export, deliver, furnish or possess any intoxicating liquor except as authorized by this act.” With it came the nation’s “worst-kept secret”—the speakeasy. Now, 100 years later, the public is still fascinated by these illicit establishments where men and women gathered to drink bootlegged alcohol and listen to jazz.

By 1924, Chicago had a network of some 20,000 speakeasies. Given this high concentration, the city has become a popular destination for delving into Prohibition history. The Original Chicago Prohibition Tour takes people to the era’s most popular watering holes, while another option, the Chicago Prohibition Gangster Tour, caters to those more interested in the rise in gang activity and mob crimes during Prohibition—making stops at the site of the infamous St. Valentine’s Day Massacre and the location where notorious gangster and bank robber John Dillinger was killed.

Illinois is also celebrating the 100th birthday of one of its most famous authors this year, Ray Bradbury. The sci-fi author recently made news when the New York Public Library released a list of the most checked out books of all time—his dystopian novel Fahrenheit 451 ranked number seven. Born in Waukegan, Illinois, on August 22, 1920, Bradbury wrote upwards of 30 books and nearly 600 short stories in his lifetime. When he died in 2012, the New York Times declared him “the writer most responsible for bringing modern science fiction into the literary mainstream.” Set to open in August 2020 in Waukegan, the Ray Bradbury Experience Museum will educate the public on the sci-fi author’s life and honor his work with immersive and interactive experiences that interpret his creative works.

Palau’s 183,000-square-mile National Marine Sanctuary is home to an abundance of coral and fish.

(Yuichiro Anazawa via Wikimedia Commons under CC BY 3.0)

Travelers arriving in Palau, a freckling of islands in the western reaches of the Pacific Ocean, sign a pledge: “I vow to tread lightly, act kindly and explore mindfully,” reads the passport stamp. “The only footprints I shall leave are those that will wash away.” The statement, adopted in 2017, reflects the dive destination’s environment-first attitude.

In 2020, after five years of work, Palau’s new National Marine Sanctuary went into effect, protecting 183,000 square miles or nearly 80 percent of the tiny country’s waters from commercial fishing. The marine sanctuary is intended to protect Palau’s 1,300-plus species of fish and 700 types of coral but will not dictate where tourists can visit, a representative from the Stanford Ocean Center, which helped create a report for the Palau government on the planned sanctuary, assured Smithsonian. The country also became the first in the world to ban types of sunscreen (about half of the commercially available options, according to the BBC) that contain ingredients known to bleach coral.

Palau’s reputation as an “underwater Serengeti” is warranted; adventurers can snorkel alongside gentle, non-stinging golden jellyfish in the aptly-named Jellyfish Lake, marvel at the giant clam inhabitants of Clam City, or (for experienced divers) spot reef sharks at the Blue Corner. The Rock Islands—uninhabited, vegetation-shrouded outcroppings that are a haven for nearly 400 coral species—are also well worth a visit. The 445 mushroom-shaped islands were proclaimed a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2012.

While the majority of tourists partake in the nation’s aquatic attractions, the islands have offerings for landlubbers too. On Babeldaob, the largest island, travelers can hike through the jungle to the thundering Ngardmau Waterfall—the highest in Micronesia. World War II buffs might want to tour Peleliu, an island where rusty plane wrecks and weapons attest to a fierce 1944 battle between the U.S. and Japan over its airstrip.

(Dumphasizer via Flickr under CC BY-SA 2.0)

In 1620, the Mayflower embarked on a voyage from Plymouth, England to the New World. Upon arrival on the shores of what is now Provincetown, Massachusetts, the pilgrims signed the Mayflower Compact—a governing document believed by many to have been an early influence for the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution. After spending five weeks exploring the area, the colonists sailed across Cape Cod Bay to Plymouth, where they established the Plymouth Colony.

To mark the 400th anniversary of these events, celebrations will be held on both sides of the Atlantic. Plymouth, England, is organizing a multitude of events, from a Mayflower Ceremony on September 16 (the date of the ship’s departure four centuries ago) to a “Mayflower 400: Legend and Legacy” exhibition at The Box, a new museum opening this spring. Meanwhile, in Massachusetts, the Pilgrim Monument and Provincetown Museum (PMPM) has organized a series of commemoration activities, kicking off with an opening ceremony on April 24 in Plymouth and featuring a historical reenactment of the signing of the Mayflower Compact on September 13 on Provincetown’s MacMillan Pier. Provincetown 400, as the series is called, aims to retell the history of Plymouth Colony from both perspectives, the Mayflower Pilgrims and the Wampanoag nation.

As a part of the 400th anniversary celebration, Mayflower II, a full-scale reproduction of the sailing vessel that carried the English colonists in 1620, will sail from Plymouth, where it sits as an exhibit in the Plimoth Plantation, to Provincetown, Massachusetts, on September 10, 2020. “We expect thousands to come to Provincetown to visit Mayflower II and to learn about the beginning of the Pilgrims’ story,” said Dr. K. David Weidner, executive director of the PMPM.

The Beethoven House in Bonn, Germany.

(Thomas Depenbusch via Flickr under CC BY 2.0)

Widely known as the City of Beethoven, Bonn is pulling out all the stops for the 250th anniversary of the classical composer’s birth. Born in 1770 (his real birthday, still a matter of speculation, is believed to be a day before his recorded baptism on December 17), Ludwig van Beethoven lived in this German city until he moved to Vienna at age 22. The house where Beethoven was born and raised for the first few years of his life—known today as Beethoven Haus—is still standing and a popular attraction in the city. Built in the 18th century, the home recently underwent a 10-month long renovation and reopened in December, with its permanent exhibit including instruments, scores and notebooks used by the composer.

The Beethoven Anniversary Society have planned BTHVN2020, a year-long calendar of concerts and tributes across Germany dedicated to the life and achievements of the composer. An estimated 1,000 performances and events are taking place between now and December 17, 2020 in Germany, with the majority of them happening in Bonn. The two-day “Beethoven Bürgfest,” beginning August 14, 2020, will trace Beethoven’s life in Bonn, feature musical performances and remember the 1845 unveiling of the bronze Beethoven monument in Bonn’s city center. The year of celebration will close with a concert held in Bonn’s parliament building, as a tribute to the political significance of the composer’s work—the European Union anthem is based on “Ode to Joy” from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.

The Met’s famous 5th Avenue entrance.

(Courtesy of the Met)

New York City’s most visited museum—the Metropolitan Museum of Art—is celebrating the 150th anniversary of its incorporation and very first acquisition, a Roman sarcophagus. Both events occurred four short years after lawyer John Jay first floated the idea to a circle of American friends while in Paris and wooed philanthropists and art collectors to support his fledgling museum. While the sesquicentennial doesn’t mean the Met Gala is opening to the public, the museum is hosting a “community festival” with tours and to-be-announced performances and art-making activities the weekend of June 4-6. The “Making The Met, 1870-2020” exhibition (March 30-August 2) will highlight gems of the Met’s vast (it spans 5,000-plus years of art) collection, including rarely-displayed, fragile works like Michelangelo’s studies for the Sistine Chapel’s Libyan Sibyl, a female figure painted on the ceiling fresco. In March, the museum will open 11,000 square feet of gallery space showcasing British decorative arts (think carefully crafted teapots) from the 16th to 20th centuries. And as usual, the Met’s rotation of exhibits will showcase art from around the globe, including early Buddhist art made in India, Cubist paintings and Tudor-era masterworks.

The Met sits in Central Park, which is where the first New York City Marathon was held 50 years ago, with 127 participants who’d paid the $1 entry fee. Less than half of them finished. Last year, 53,627 runners took part in the 26.2-mile run, now spanning all five of the Big Apple’s boroughs. Even non-runners can enjoy the race’s 50th anniversary this year (November 1) by joining the crowds that cheer, sometimes rowdily, the endurance athletes on. (Here’s a list of the best cheering spots, courtesy the New York Times; apparently, there’s even a Baptist church whose choir sings for marathoners at full volume.)

#History

[historyrepeatsitself-phff]

Chapter Sixty-One

A/N: I know it’s not seven o’clock yet, but I thought I’d share the chapter with you early (tbh I thought you could schedule a post so that it was posted at a specific time, but apparently not, so I doubt any of my chapters will be posted at exactly 19:00). I’m sorry it’s been so long, but there’s a good fifteen chapters coming your way now :)

I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know - nothing means more to me than all your opinions 💖

Emmy walked beside Harry, both hands resting on her bump, as he pulled his suitcase along after him. They were in Heathrow Airport, where Harry would be catching his flight to Brazil for the Olympics. They had told no one about their little baby girl yet, and Harry had demanded that Emmy wait until he got back before she told people, because he wanted to see their reactions. Claire and Edward knew, as did the POs, but that was about it.

They were escorted to a private waiting room, and Harry collapsed onto one of the seats there, before gently pulling Emmy down onto his lap. He nuzzled into her throat as she loosely draped her arms round his neck. She felt slightly sick – she didn’t want him to leave again.

Claire was stood at the window, looking out, hands on her hips, at the miserable grey sky. She huffed. “Ed, you sure you don’t want to stay with Emmy this time? I’ll go with Harry.”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “No chance,” he grinned.

Emmy pouted. “Why does no one want to spend time with me?”

“It’s not personal, Emmy,” Edward laughed. “It’s just that it’s between you and a very hot country.”

“Isn’t it their winter, there?” she grumbled, pressing her forehead into Harry’s shoulder.

“They’re so close to the equator they don’t even have a winter,” Harry teased gently.

Emmy scowled. “It’s your fault that I can’t go.”

“You’re pregnant!”

“Yes. That’s your fault.”

Harry laughed. “Claire, surely Em can survive without you for a week. You could come with us.”

Emmy looked at him, outraged. “You can’t just leave me on my own!”

“Kev?” Harry said, ignoring her. “You wanna come?”

Kev laughed. “Thank god you asked,” he said playfully. “I really need a break from her.”

Emmy scowled at Kev, then turned playful herself. She twirled a strand of hair round her finger as she said, “I guess you’ll just have to leave me with Zach.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Harry’s smirk disappeared, and Emmy felt victorious. She knew that the mention of Zach instantly pissed Harry off, and Harry simply didn’t like him because Zach was closer to Emmy’s age than he was himself.

“It’s a shame Emmy can’t go with you,” Claire mused, tactfully changing the subject.

“Stupid Zika virus,” Emmy muttered, nuzzling back into Harry as she sulked about being left behind. His hand gently rubbed her back.

“You hate sport anyway,” Harry murmured.

“Not in Brazil I don’t.”

He barked a laugh. “We’d be too busy watching sport to do any sunbathing, you realise that?”

“At least I’d be there with you.”

“I’ll be back in no time.”

“A month,” she said. “You’re going to be there for a month.”

“That’s only because of the trek.”

Emmy pouted, feeling tears prickling in her eyes at the thought of him being gone for so long. She blinked them away, and she swallowed as she felt her throat tightening. “You can’t even phone me when you’re on the trek.”

“Emmy,” he said gently, moving her in his arms so she was looking at him. “You’ve got so much planned for the month, you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

She scoffed. “I always notice when you’re gone.”

“Sir,” an airport steward said then. “It’s time to board.”

Emmy’s heart accelerated in panic. She wasn’t ready for him to go yet. “Don’t go,” she blurted.

“Emmy-“ He tried to prise her fingers from his collar as he got to his feet. “You’ll be fine without me.”

She took a deep breath, holding in the tears, as he leant down to kiss her. It started off gentle, but she reached up and gripped his shirt, and he deepened it, determined to give her something to remember, something to distract her from his departure. One of his hands went to her bump, and he stroked it gently.

“Take care of my little princess, okay?” he murmured, dropping his gaze to her little bump.

Her heart swelled at his words. “Of course I will.”

He kissed her again, and again, and then she was watching him leave the room with Edward, Rick and Brian. He turned and gave a small flutter of his fingers, before he was out of sight.

Emmy took a deep, steadying breath. Claire came over and gently rubbed her arm.

“It’s okay,” Claire said. “He’ll be back before you know it.”

Emmy nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. She did not want to cry. If she had to, she would save it for that night, when the empty house and her far-too-big bed finally got the better of her.

And as she curled under the covers that night, watching Modern Family, her little baby girl started to flutter in her stomach, and Emmy pressed her hand to her bump. That was when the tears started to flow, because Harry was not there to feel it.

“So.” Claire folded her hands across the desk and smiled at Emmy. “How was last night?”

“Long,” Emmy mumbled, yawning. “This little one was very agitated.”

Claire smiled affectionately as Emmy stroked her bump. “We need to do some planning.”

“My schedule’s busy enough as it is, Claire,” Emmy complained. “Don’t give me more to do.”

“No, no, don’t worry, we’re not planning any engagements,” Claire said. “Although you do need to make up your mind about attending the Mind gala next month.”

“Give me another few days,” Emmy said. “But if we’re not planning engagements…”

“We need to talk about the leak.”

Emmy looked at her in surprise. “I thought we’d agree that we were just not going to tell anyone anything?”

“Is that how you want to live? What happens when Harry gets home and wants to tell everyone you’re having a little girl?”

She nibbled her lip nervously. “So what are you thinking?”

“Well, if we look at the last leak. When they leaked the pregnancy and the ultrasound picture. You can split everyone who knew into three groups: your friends, Harry’s friends, and Harry’s family. And if we include your family, just in case Charles told Alexander before you did, that’s four groups.”

“Right.” Emmy wondered where this was going.

“Well, why don’t we – you – tell them each a different name? Or two different names. Pretend that you don’t know what the sex is, and tell each group a different girl’s name and a different boy’s name. And that way, when the name is leaked, we’ll know which group it came from.”

“Hmm.” Emmy couldn’t deny, it was a good idea. But it also relied on her being a very good liar. And she wasn’t sure whether that was going to work out. “We could try it.”

“You’re seeing Harry’s family on the eighth, for Beatrice’s birthday meal. You’re seeing Harry’s friends on the twelfth for Jake’s birthday. And then you just need to find a time to see your family, and your friends.”

“I…suppose it could work.”

“It’s worth a try,” Claire said, throwing her a smile. “So we need some names for each group. They can’t be too obvious, but they also can’t be ridiculous. They need to be believable. But I guess you’d want to choose some names that you don’t actually like, so you won’t choose them when it comes to naming your baby.”

“Can I…can I do that with Harry when he phones tonight?”

“Sure.” Claire smiled, evidently happy that Emmy was going along with it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the visit to Great Ormond Street. We can go over it then.”

“Okay.”

Emmy was supposed to spend the day reading up on Great Ormond Street, ready to ask questions the following day and to show that she’d actually done her research. This was her second visit, and she knew that the day would be focusing on the cancer unit. Cancer was one of her “topics”, it was one of the things that she wanted to focus on, especially children with cancer. She wanted to show that she was interested, that she was dedicated. She wasn’t just turning up, showing her face and then going home.

But her mind was distracted for most of the day. She imagined messing up this whole ‘name game’, letting slip what the whole thing was for. She was worried about someone realizing what she was doing. No one would react well to that, especially not someone like Taylor. She was worried about upsetting her best friend.

She was in the kitchen making herself some dinner when Harry phoned. He’d taken some time out from watching the swimming to phone her.

“Hey baby,” he said, the grin evident in his voice.

“Harry!” Emmy all but squealed with delight. “Wait, you were talking to me, right? Or were you talking to this little angel in my womb?”

He laughed, the sound musical with the joy at the mention of his daughter. “I was talking to you, Em. How’s your day been so far?”

“Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Well you’re not here to make it amazing, so…” She trailed off, then laughed with him. “I had a meeting with Claire this morning. She’s had an ingenious idea at finding out who the rat is.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“She wants me to tell your family a baby name, your friends a different name, my friends a different name and then my family a different name, and then see which ends up in the paper.”

“That’s a pretty good idea,” he said.

“Except I can’t lie!”

“Pfft, everyone can lie, Emmy. You’ll be fine.”

“What if Taylor catches on, and then hates me for it?”

“You’re stressing,” he said. “Don’t stress. It’s not good for the baby.”

“Hmm.” Her heart still felt fluttery with anxiety. “We need to pick names.”

“Shit, already?!”

“I mean, names for the different groups,” she said, giggling. “Four girls’ names and four boys’ names that we don’t like.”

“Hmm, interesting,” he said. “Well, we could tell my friends that if it’s a boy we’ll call him Charlie, and if it’s a girl we’ll call her Elizabeth. Easy names that we sure as hell aren’t going to use.”

“You don’t want to name them after your grandmother?”

“Definitely not for a first name,” he said. “What about Albert and Rose? They’re traditional but I hate them.”

Emmy giggled. “You’re good at coming up with names that you don’t like.”

“You could tell someone that the boy will be called Henry?” he said. “We’re not having a boy so we don’t need to worry about that. And then, I don’t know, Victoria or something like that.”

“What about Alice? It’s quite traditional, but I don’t really like it.”

“Sure, me neither. Do you want to write these down?”

Five minutes later – for it took them a surprisingly short amount of time to come up with traditional names that neither of them liked – Emmy had a list. She scanned over it, checking they had everything.

My family – Andrew and Annabelle

Harry’s family – Albert and Rose

My friends – Henry and Alice

Harry’s friends – Charles and Elizabeth  

“Okay, that looks good,” she said. “They’re going to think we’re so boring.”

His chuckle echoed down the phone. “I’ll tell you what is boring: cycling. I watched a bit of it earlier. Ugh.”

She giggled. “Would you rather be here with me?”

“Oh, a thousand times.”

“I wish you were here too,” she said, then sighed. “I’m going to Great Ormond Street tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll be brilliant,” he said.

“I’m giving my first speech.”

“Oh shit, yeah. Don’t worry about it. They’ll be hanging on to your every word.”

“Hmm.” The thought of it made her feel sick.

“Try not to think about me and I know you’ll be fine. I know it’s difficult.”

“Haha,” she said. “Okay, I’ll let you go. I love you.”

“Love you too, Emmy.”

Emmy stepped from the car to enormous cheers. People lined the street in both directions, and the road had been closed because of this. They waved, they shouted for her attention, and they all took pictures, their own proof that they had seen her in person. She knew that she would be back out later to meet them all. She waved round, smiling shyly. It was a warm day, and she hoped they’d all brought enough water for they would be waiting a few hours. As she stepped towards the entrance, the sun beating down on her from above, the lightest of summer breezes ruffled the skirt of her pink Alice and Olivia dress.

“Your royal highness,” Tessa, the chairman of the trust board, dipped into a curtsey as Emmy approached. “Such an honour to have you here.”

“Such an honour to be here,” Emmy said, shaking her hand. “On such a lovely sunny day, too.”

“Indeed, it really lights up the hospital when it’s like this,” Tessa said. “Please, follow me.”

There was a long queue of officials inside, waiting to meet the Duchess, and Emmy smiled as she met each and every one, trying to remember as many names as possible. Most of them she recognized from before, when her and Harry had visited after Christmas. One hand remained on her bump the whole time, and many mentioned it, commenting that she was glowing, or her bump was getting very large – there couldn’t be many more months left.

“We would like to congratulate both you and the prince on your little baby,” Tessa said, after the line of important people had reached its end.

“Thank you,” Emmy said. “We’re both very excited.”

“I bet you are. So, let’s go and see the oncology department.”

Emmy followed Tessa through the hospital, with Zach walking close behind her. An entourage of people, including Claire, Kev and several photographers came after them, but only one photographer was allowed onto the wards.

Emmy was grateful of this. She knew that it would get teary for her, and she didn’t want those pictures published all over the world. Especially when Harry wasn’t here to make light of everything.

Tears came. She was talking to a little girl, whose bald head was wrapped in a glittery pink scarf, and she was listening to how this little girl Lily’s favourite princess was Cinderella because Lily was blonde too. Emmy felt tears prickling in her eyes, but she kept going, she finished talking to Lily, but when she rose she turned to Zach.

“Emmy?” he whispered, alarmed by the tears in her eyes. “You okay?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes with her thumb before she smiled and turned to Tessa. “I’m sorry about this.”

“Please don’t apologise.”

Emmy had pulled herself together in time for the end of her visit. Everyone who was anyone in the hospital had congregated in the conference hall, and Emmy was led to a seat right at the front. She could feel her heart accelerating nervously, the flutter of fear in her veins. As Tessa gave her speech, Emmy felt like she couldn’t breathe. She was next.

“And I introduce to you all, Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Clarence.”

Emmy’s breathing was shallow. She felt lightheaded, and she instantly regretted not having eaten something a bit more substantial for breakfast, although she still wasn’t sure she’d have been able to keep it down. She slowly got to her feet, white haze clouding her peripheral vision as she carefully made her way up onto the stage. She clutched her speech in her hand, and she hoped to god that it wasn’t shaking as bad as she was sure she was.

“Thank you, Tessa,” she said. “It has been such an honour for me to be here today, to see first-hand the amazing work that Great Ormond Street Hospital does, and has done for over 150 years. The hospital sets the most perfect example of how so many cogs come together to make a well functioning machine.” Her voice was ringing out into the hall, and she could see everyone staring up at her, the cameras flashing. She swallowed. There was ringing in her ears now. Should she stop? Maybe ask for some water? She really didn’t feel very well.

“I can- I can see how so many - many brave little people owe their lives to this-“

There was a surge of outcries and shrieks as The Duchess fell, unconscious.

Bright lights greeted Emmy as she awoke. She peered up, frowning, at the ceiling, the fluorescent lamps. Then she groaned. Her head hurt.

“You okay?”

She looked to her left to see William sat there, elbows on knees, chin on hands. “Um… my head hurts.”

“Hmm, you hit it,” he said, straightening up and rubbing his hands along his thighs. “You fainted.”

“During my speech?”

“Afraid so.”

She sighed, laying her head back down on the pillow. Then panic surged through her, and she jolted upright. “The baby?! Is she okay?!”

“Shh, shh,” William said, gently pushing her back into the bed. “The baby’s fine. You just had low sugar levels, that’s all.”

“I’m in hospital for that?!” she said dubiously.

“They wanted to check everything was okay with the baby,” he explained.

“Then how come I only just woke up?!” she challenged.

“You’ve only been out a few hours,” he said. “Apparently, you were just sleeping. They said you must’ve been exhausted. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

She huffed. “It’s not easy. I was nervous about today.”

“I understand,” he said. “But yeah, you’re both fine. They were just waiting for you to wake up before they let you go.”

Emmy nodded slowly. “Thanks William.”

“Did I hear you right?” he said. “Did you call the baby a ‘she’?”

She considered lying, saying he’d misheard, saying her and Harry didn’t know the sex, but she was too tired for all that. “You heard right. We’re having a little girl.”

“Oh, Emmy, that’s amazing,” he said, breaking into a beam.

“Harry wanted to tell you himself,” she explained, feeling guilty for ruining that for him.

“He’s got bigger issues right now,” William said, laughing to himself. “He’s been phoning non-stop, trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“How did he find out?”

“Claire made the mistake of telling Edward, and Harry overhead Edward on the phone.” He rolled his eyes. “And then, of course, you also made headlines. He’s freaking out. I said you’d give him a call when you got home.”

“And I can go home now?”

“That’s what the doctor said.”

“Good.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed. As she stood up, all the blood rushed instantly to her head and she stumbled. William caught her, pulling her to his chest to keep her on her feet. She rested her forehead against him as her head swam, before her vision finally settled. A small part of her head realised how much he felt like Harry: tall, broad-chested, strong arms. She felt safe with her brother-in-law.

“You okay?” he whispered, panic in his voice.

“Yeah,” she said. “Headrush.”

He chuckled lightly. “You be careful. I’ll go get Claire.”

Claire was terrible. She fretted for the entire journey home, to the point that Kev told Claire to stop worrying; the doctors had said Emmy was fine.

“I’m fine,” Emmy reassured her, for what felt like the hundredth time. “Honestly, Claire, stop worrying.”

“You need to phone Harry as soon as you get home, okay?” Claire said. “Not a second later, Ed keeps texting me, saying Harry’s getting restless. He’s worrying about you too.”

Emmy rolled her eyes. How like Harry to overreact.

“It was just low sugar levels,” she said. “You told Ed that, right?”

“Harry just wants to hear, from you, that you’re okay.”

“Why’s he such a pain?”

Claire smirked. “I was under the impression you were in love with that pain.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she replied, giggling to herself.

Claire saw Emmy into Nottingham Cottage, coming into the kitchen and pouring Emmy some water as Emmy slipped out of her coat. She still felt slightly fuzzy, as though she wasn’t 100% there, and she really wanted to go back to sleep. Her eyes hurt from her fatigue. She yawned heavily.

“Emmy, you need to promise me you’re going to get some rest,” Claire said gently. “I know that you were nervous about today, and that you really struggle with anxiety before the engagements, but Harry isn’t here to help you get through them. We can’t have you collapsing each time you’re out because you’re not sleeping.”

“I’m sorry,” Emmy sighed, running a hand over her face as though trying to wipe away the tiredness. “It’s just…everything, you know. Harry not being here, but also the baby and the rat and…” Her voice broke. She didn’t want to get emotional.

“We’re dealing with the rat though, aren’t we?”

“Hmm. But what if I screw this up, too?”

“You won’t,” Claire said, and without thinking about etiquette she reached for Emmy’s hands and gave them a squeeze. “Honestly, Emmy, I know you won’t. I have complete faith in you. You’ll do this amazingly and then we’ll sort out who the rat is, and by the time this little baby gets here we’ll have everything sorted, yes?”

Emmy sniffled.

“Yes, Emmy?” Claire insisted

Emmy swallowed. “Yes.”

“Good.” Claire pulled Emmy into a hug, and although Claire was only about ten years older than Emmy, Emmy felt like she was hugging an aunt, a motherly figure. She cuddled her a bit tighter.

“Okay, you need to call Harry now,” Claire said, once she’d stepped away. “Stop him worrying, okay?”

As soon as Emmy rung his number, he’d answered.

“Emmy, are you okay?!”

Emmy laughed lightly; she’d been expecting him to be anxious, but not this worried. “I’m fine-“

“Shit, baby, what happened?! Why’d it take you so long to call? Have you only just left the hospital?!”

“Yeah, they let me sleep for a while, apparently.”

“Sleep? Have you not been sleeping enough?”

“Afraid not,” she said, then, feeling guilty, she added, “I’m sorry, Harry. I said I would take care of our little girl but I’ve just been so nervous about the engagement and my speech-“

“Emmy, you don’t need to apologise,” he said, slightly exasperated. “I’m just relieved that you’re okay. I thought the worse when Edward told me you’d collapsed.”

“Just low sugar levels.”

She could hear him sucking in a relieved breath. “I was so worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I wish I could be there to give you a hug. You sound like you need it.”

She felt tears coming again, and she swallowed before answering. “I’m okay. I wish you were here though.”

“I’ll be home soon, darling.”

“You’ve been gone two days.” She realised she sounded like a whiny child, but at this point she didn’t care.

“Look at it this way. Two days down.”

“Only another 29 to go.”

“Emmy…”

She huffed. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m being miserable. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too. If it’s any consolation, the weather here is pretty shit.”

Emmy managed a laugh. “Well, actually, it’s been really nice here today. It was really hot.”

“Maybe that’s why you were ill. Too hot.”

“Mmm, maybe. Heatstroke.”

“I need to go, I’m awarding the medals for the diving in a minute, and the last pair is going up now, I need to see it.”

“Okay, I’ll speak to you later.”

“Probably tomorrow.”

“I’m at your grandmother’s tomorrow, remember? I’m telling them that we’re naming our child either Albert or Rose.”

“Ooh, good luck. I know you’ll bullshit really well.”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think I was planning to do for my speech today?”

“Damn, you must have been disappointed to not be able to finish it,” he said sarcastically.

“Sooo disappointed,” she drawled, then laughed lightly. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow?”

“You will, baby. Take care of our little princess.”

“Looks like I need to take care of myself first,” she said, sighing. “Love you.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled for, “Love you too.”

When the phone went dead, Emmy curled up into a ball on the sofa and hugged herself tightly. She felt like she’d failed as a mother already – she hadn’t kept herself safe, and that had endangered the tiny person growing inside of her.

Her little baby was relying on her, not anyone else. Not Harry, or Claire, or the POs – her. Baby Clarence needed Emmy, and Emmy realised that it was up to her to get through these months, and to get through them on her own. If she couldn’t do that, then how was she going to look after another human being?

Emmy eventually fell asleep on the sofa, but the next day, when she woke up, it was with a completely different mindset.

[pope-francis-quotes]

10th June >> (@RomeReports) #Pope Francis #PopeFrancis Full Message for the World Mission Day. Baptized and Sent: The Church of Christ on Mission in the World

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

For the month of October 2019, I have asked that the whole Church revive her missionary awareness and commitment as we commemorate the centenary of the Apostolic Letter Maximum Illud of Pope Benedict XV (30 November 1919). Its farsighted and prophetic vision of the apostolate has made me realize once again the importance of renewing the Church’s missionary commitment and giving fresh evangelical impulse to her work of preaching and bringing to the world the salvation of Jesus Christ, who died and rose again.

The title of the present Message is the same as that of October’s Missionary Month: Baptized and Sent: The Church of Christ on Mission in the World. Celebrating this month will help us first to rediscover the missionary dimension of our faith in Jesus Christ, a faith graciously bestowed on us in baptism. Our filial relationship with God is not something simply private, but always in relation to the Church. Through our communion with God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we, together with so many of our other brothers and sisters, are born to new life. This divine life is not a product for sale – we do not practise proselytism – but a treasure to be given, communicated and proclaimed: that is the meaning of mission. We received this gift freely and we share it freely (cf. Mt 10:8), without excluding anyone. God wills that all people be saved by coming to know the truth and experiencing his mercy through the ministry of the Church, the universal sacrament of salvation (cf. 1 Tim 2:4; Lumen Gentium, 48).

The Church is on mission in the world. Faith in Jesus Christ enables us to see all things in their proper perspective, as we view the world with God’s own eyes and heart. Hope opens us up to the eternal horizons of the divine life that we share. Charity, of which we have a foretaste in the sacraments and in fraternal love, impels us to go forth to the ends of the earth (cf. Mic 5:4; Mt 28:19; Acts 1:8; Rom 10:18). A Church that presses forward to the farthest frontiers requires a constant and ongoing missionary conversion. How many saints, how many men and women of faith, witness to the fact that this unlimited openness, this going forth in mercy, is indeed possible and realistic, for it is driven by love and its deepest meaning as gift, sacrifice and gratuitousness (cf. 2 Cor 5:14-21)! The man who preaches God must be a man of God (cf. Maximum Illud).

This missionary mandate touches us personally: I am a mission, always; you are a mission, always; every baptized man and woman is a mission. People in love never stand still: they are drawn out of themselves; they are attracted and attract others in turn; they give themselves to others and build relationships that are life-giving. As far as God’s love is concerned, no one is useless or insignificant. Each of us is a mission to the world, for each of us is the fruit of God’s love. Even if parents can betray their love by lies, hatred and infidelity, God never takes back his gift of life. From eternity he has destined each of his children to share in his divine and eternal life (cf. Eph 1:3- 6).

This life is bestowed on us in baptism, which grants us the gift of faith in Jesus Christ, the conqueror of sin and death. Baptism gives us rebirth in God’s own image and likeness, and makes us members of the Body of Christ, which is the Church. In this sense, baptism is truly necessary for salvation for it ensures that we are always and everywhere sons and daughters in the house of the Father, and never orphans, strangers or slaves. What in the Christian is a sacramental reality – whose fulfillment is found in the Eucharist – remains the vocation and destiny of every man and woman in search of conversion and salvation. For baptism fulfils the promise of the gift of God that makes everyone a son or daughter in the Son. We are children of our natural parents, but in baptism we receive the origin of all fatherhood and true motherhood: no one can have God for a Father who does not have the Church for a mother (cf. Saint Cyprian, De Cath. Eccl., 6).

Our mission, then, is rooted in the fatherhood of God and the motherhood of the Church. The mandate given by the Risen Jesus at Easter is inherent in Baptism: as the Father has sent me, so I send you, filled with the Holy Spirit, for the reconciliation of the world (cf. Jn 20:19-23; Mt 28:16-20). This mission is part of our identity as Christians; it makes us responsible for enabling all men and women to realize their vocation to be adoptive children of the Father, to recognize their personal dignity and to appreciate the intrinsic worth of every human life, from conception until natural death. Today’s rampant secularism, when it becomes an aggressive cultural rejection of God’s active fatherhood in our history, is an obstacle to authentic human fraternity, which finds expression in reciprocal respect for the life of each person. Without the God of Jesus Christ, every difference is reduced to a baneful threat, making impossible any real fraternal acceptance and fruitful unity within the human race.

The universality of the salvation offered by God in Jesus Christ led Benedict XV to call for an end to all forms of nationalism and ethnocentrism, or the merging of the preaching of the Gospel with the economic and military interests of the colonial powers. In his Apostolic Letter Maximum Illud, the Pope noted that the Church’s universal mission requires setting aside exclusivist ideas of membership in one’s own country and ethnic group. The opening of the culture and the community to the salvific newness of Jesus Christ requires leaving behind every kind of undue ethnic and ecclesial introversion. Today too, the Church needs men and women who, by virtue of their baptism, respond generously to the call to leave behind home, family, country, language and local Church, and to be sent forth to the nations, to a world not yet transformed by the sacraments of Jesus Christ and his holy Church. By proclaiming God’s word, bearing witness to the Gospel and celebrating the life of the Spirit, they summon to conversion, baptize and offer Christian salvation, with respect for the freedom of each person and in dialogue with the cultures and religions of the peoples to whom they are sent. The missio ad gentes, which is always necessary for the Church, thus contributes in a fundamental way to the process of ongoing conversion in all Christians. Faith in the Easter event of Jesus; the ecclesial mission received in baptism; the geographic and cultural detachment from oneself and one’s own home; the need for salvation from sin and liberation from personal and social evil: all these demand the mission that reaches to the very ends of the earth.

The providential coincidence of this centenary year with the celebration of the Special Synod on the Churches in the Amazon allows me to emphaze how the mission entrusted to us by Jesus with the gift of his Spirit is also timely and necessary for those lands and their peoples. A renewed Pentecost opens wide the doors of the Church, in order that no culture remain closed in on itself and no people cut off from the universal communion of the faith. No one ought to remain closed in self-absorption, in the self-referentiality of his or her own ethnic and religious affiliation. The Easter event of Jesus breaks through the narrow limits of worlds, religions and cultures, calling them to grow in respect for the dignity of men and women, and towards a deeper conversion to the truth of the Risen Lord who gives authentic life to all.

Here I am reminded of the words of Pope Benedict XVI at the beginning of the meeting of Latin American Bishops at Aparecida, Brazil, in 2007. I would like to repeat these words and make them my own: “Yet what did the acceptance of the Christian faith mean for the nations of Latin America and the Caribbean? For them, it meant knowing and welcoming Christ, the unknown God whom their ancestors were seeking, without realizing it, in their rich religious traditions. Christ is the Saviour for whom they were silently longing. It also meant that they received, in the waters of Baptism, the divine life that made them children of God by adoption; moreover, they received the Holy Spirit who came to make their cultures fruitful, purifying them and developing the numerous seeds that the incarnate Word had planted in them, thereby guiding them along the paths of the Gospel... The Word of God, in becoming flesh in Jesus Christ, also became history and culture. The utopia of going back to breathe life into the pre-Columbian religions, separating them from Christ and from the universal Church, would not be a step forward: indeed, it would be a step back. In reality, it would be a retreat towards a stage in history anchored in the past” (Address at the Inaugural Session, 13 May 2007: Insegnamenti III, 1 [2007], 855-856).

We entrust the Church’s mission to Mary our Mother. In union with her Son, from the moment of the Incarnation the Blessed Virgin set out on her pilgrim way. She was fully involved in the mission of Jesus, a mission that became her own at the foot of the Cross: the mission of cooperating, as Mother of the Church, in bringing new sons and daughters of God to birth in the Spirit and in faith.

I would like to conclude with a brief word about the Pontifical Mission Societies, already proposed in Maximum Illud as a missionary resource. The Pontifical Mission Societies serve the Church’s universality as a global network of support for the Pope in his missionary commitment by prayer, the soul of mission, and charitable offerings from Christians throughout the world. Their donations assist the Pope in the evangelization efforts of particular Churches (the Pontifical Society for the Propagation of the Faith), in the formation of local clergy (the Pontifical Society of Saint Peter the Apostle), in raising missionary awareness in children (Pontifical Society of Missionary Childhood) and in encouraging the missionary dimension of Christian faith (Pontifical Missionary Union). In renewing my support for these Societies, I trust that the extraordinary Missionary Month of October 2019 will contribute to the renewal of their missionary service to my ministry.

To men and women missionaries, and to all those who, by virtue of their baptism, share in any way in the mission of the Church, I send my heartfelt blessing.

From the Vatican, 9th June 2019, the Solemnity of Pentecost.

FRANCIS

[mfmagazine]

Casa Verde Colectivo

Article by Jason Schell

World Music. I roll my eyes at the term and have no Putumayo discs on my iPod, but often when one writes off an entire music style, bands come along that are so good, they breakdown your biases and your stereotypes disappear. Casa Verde Colectivo (Green House Collective), who’s been taking Mexico’s music scene by storm, proved to me once again that “World Music” can be pretty cool. And like any band that can really play, it’s their live performance that captivates. Made up of roughly 11 members spanning from Brazil to Canada, their music is both dense and mature, while never losing it’s fun, butt-shaking intensity. You could compare them to Manu Chao or Ozomatli…but while a lot of groups with a world sound (even the good ones) tend be all over the place, often losing their personality in favor of trying to represent too many musical styles, Casa Verde’s latest album Aqui y Ahora (Here and Now) maintains a solid style from start to finish.

I sat down with three of their members (Lucio La Rua: Lead Vocals, Guitar. Pablo Nuñez: Bass Guitar, Vocals. Mynah Marie: Accordian, Vocals) in Mexico City’s central plaza, the Zocalo, for a great conversation about music, concerts, and life in general.

So how did the band get started?

Mynah: The story of Casa Verde started in a horse caravan when Lucio and Cadu and some others were traveling by horse around Chiapas and Veracruz and they started to play music like this in the nature and from that the name of the band was inspired. “Casa Verde”: like a house of nature. This went on in the form of jam sessions for about a year and a half later on in Mexico City. Then slowly, slowly the project started to become more official, more serious and other musicians incorporated themselves in the band.

Lucio: So the beginning was like international jam sessions.

How do songs get started then? You have a lot of band members.

Lucio: The process of creating a song starts with the bass...sometimes me, sometimes Pablo. We imagine the riffs and then come the arrangements with the brass section. Then everybody starts to put some part of their soul in the music. But generally Pablo and I start the songs then everyone else works on it...the arrangement, the lyrics.

Are the lyrics usually in Spanish, there's some French stuff in there too right?

Mynah: Yeah it depends on who's playing in the band at the moment because a lot of us are from different origins.

Who are your musical superheroes then?

Mynah: (laughs) Well my background is more from Balkan or Arabic music...but none of us are traditional musicians or grew up that way.

So your accordion is more of a gypsy thing than a norteño thing...

Mynah: Yeah, definitely not norteño.

Lucio: The basics…I like Jimmy Hendrix to fuckin' Motzart...Mano Negra for example, this is of the bands from my childhood, I thought those guys were totally amazing...15 guys on the stage and every one of them is doing something different.

You guys have a lot of members. Is the group open, closed, are there transient members who come and go?

Mynah: Well that's why we call it a colectivo, because it's like a collective of artists...but the core group is always the same. We have a stable 8 or 9 musicians, but then we like to work with guests that add a little flavor in the albums.

Lucio: We recorded the album together here in Mexico City and our single (Corazon de la Calle) in Bilbao, Spain. But our philosophy is that we are travelers and we really like to share experiences with other musicians. We even try to put this beyond music with urban art, poetry...everything.

Mynah: It's like a movement. Casa Verde is a way of thinking.

Do you write your songs to be political or to teach people?

Mynah: I'm not comfortable saying we're political or we want to teach...but there's a strong message. We're not preachers or teachers, we definitely have a message of change that we believe in and are trying to influence people with...to get into that vibe that things can change in a positive way. It' not like taking sides though. We have a strong ecological belief...protecting the environment.

Lucio: Like in the old times we called them “juglares”, singers who transmitted everything to the town. We’re trying to show to other people that another way is possible.

Have you played outside of Mexico?

Mynah: We're working on it. We have some opportunities to play in California and in Canada this summer. So doors are starting to open. The album's getting a lot of circulation and making it much easier.

Where did you play your first show?

Lucio: It was here in the Zocalo...as festival called Sin Maiz no hay Pais (without corn there's no country [sounds catchier in Spanish]). We prepared a lot but had pretty bad instruments...hippy/punk style.

Anything else? Something you want to say to the American audience?

Mynah: We'll see you this summer!

Lucio: I really hope to go to San Francisco. Some of my cultural heroes are from there. We had many of our first jam sessions on Orizaba street where Jack Kerouac and other American poets wrote really amazing things here in Mexico City...and I feel really close to them. I don't know...maybe in a past life I died of an overdose in a jazz club...but I feel really close to American culture in these aspects...poetic and musical.