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earthstory · 4 years ago

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The New Madrid Seismic Zone About once a year, residents of the counties at the border between Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, and Arkansas will feel the ground roll beneath their feet. This image maps out the location of earthquakes in this area over a 30-year period and clearly illustrates a major feature: the New Madrid Seismic Zone. This zone produces about 1 quake that can be felt per year in addition to many small earthquakes…and has historically produced really big ones.

The pattern of earthquakes clearly traces out a fault with 3 segments. This fault is not exposed at the surface; these earthquakes take place about 10 kilometers below the Earth’s surface on faults that are remnants of the continent’s ancient history. The story of the New Madrid Seismic Zone begins over 1.5 billion years ago. The continent that would eventually become North America was growing by adding volcanic arcs onto the core that is today found in Canada, expanding outwards a block at a time, when something changed. The center of the growing continent began to pull apart, forming a long rift valley. That valley is named the “Reelfoot Rift”. We don’t know exactly what all the plates were doing that long ago, but its clear that the continent started opening and things stalled. A comparison might be the East African Rift Zone today; the Arabian plate has fully pulled away from Africa to form the Red Sea, but East Africa itself is forming a deep, fault-filled basin loaded with volcanoes. If the East African rift shut down, it would eventually look a lot like the Reelfoot Rift. The continent bears many scars from this rifting. There are igneous rocks throughout the area formed between 1.5 and 1.3 billion years ago. during this rifting Measurements of the gravity and magnetic fields over the rift also illustrate its presence. The modern Mississippi River even generally follows this valley today as the ancient faults still allow enough movement to make the rift zone a lowland in the continent’s center. The faults formed during this rifting event don’t appear at the surface, they have been buried by sediments deposited by the Mississippi River system over the last 100 million years. The cities in the Central United States therefore sit mostly on top of fairly loose sediments that filled in these lowlands at the center of the continent. This is the area that in the early 1800s suffered a surprising series of disasters. Three of the largest earthquakes in U.S. history occurred in the area between Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, and Kentucky over a period of about 3 months starting on December 16, 1811. With earthquakes that occurred before modern seismic instruments were around to measure them it can be difficult to fully tell the story, but these events are important enough that scientists have assembled many details. See how there are 3 segments to the fault? You’ve already seen the reason why there were 3 quakes. The first quake took place on the southernmost segment and ruptured in a strike-slip motion. The second quake took place on the middle segment and ruptured a normal fault. The final quake took place on the northernmost segment and again had a strike-slip motion. This structure therefore looks like a piece of the rift, a normal fault segment with two large strike-slip faults on its edge. The quakes were extremely powerful; USGS estimates place their moment magnitudes at 7.5, 7.7, and 7.7; comparable in strength to the 7.8 Mw 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. Because the crust in the Eastern U.S. is older and colder than that in the west, the shaking transmitted over a greater distance; historical records report the earthquakes caused church bells to ring as far away as Boston. The quakes were a disaster for this area even though the population was sparse. The fault motion shifted the Mississippi River’s position, creating the modern Reelfoot Lake and also drowned and submerged many other areas. Sediments shifted and blew out of the ground across the region. Any structures present were likely destroyed, although there are very few remaining records. There was enough damage that a single landholder named John Hardeman Walker was able to cheaply buy up the affected land in the years following the quake as most of the inhabitants simply left. When Missouri became a state in 1818 he lobbied for inclusion of his land in Missouri at the expense of Arkansas, leading to the inclusion of 3 counties in Missouri as a “bootheel”. The New Madrid quakes therefore literally show up on the U.S. map. Although these events are huge, they’re very much an anomaly. We teach that most major earthquakes are associated with boundaries between plates; even if the earthquake is happening far inland of the plate boundary it tends to relate to plate tectonics. The New Madrid quakes are so far from any plate boundary it’s extremely hard to say what is driving the motion on the faults. There are ideas. We do know that plates can transmit stresses long distances as they move; the New Madrid area could be feeling the impact of stresses as far away as California. The New Madrid Area could also be responding to the change in mass on top of it from melting of the huge ice sheets 12,000 years ago. Finally, there are even proposals that a small mantle “hotspot” has interacted with the Central U.S. over the past few million years and that could contribute to stress on the New Madrid Faults. These big quakes aren’t the only things this fault zone has produced. Not only do we see that earthquakes continue to this day, but scientists have also found evidence for previous earthquakes in the centuries prior to historical documentation. When these quakes happen, loose sand in the soil bursts onto the surface like a geyser, a feature called a “sand blow” or a “sand boil” (sand blows covering the land were probably a big reason why it was cheap to buy after the 1812 quakes). Older sand blows have been found indicating several large quake sequences happened on this fault before historical records were recorded, with the most recent ones happening about 1350 and 900 a.d. Furthermore, seismic techniques have been used to image the subsurface throughout the Mississippi valley and found evidence of faults across a broad area that have been active over the past few million years - not just these exact faults, but a multitude of them throughout the valley. The sequence of prehistoric earthquakes and the ongoing smaller quakes is good evidence that this fault is still an active threat. If the smaller quakes were aftershocks of the 1812 sequence, there would be fewer of them with time; instead their rate is pretty much constant, suggesting they’re caused by continued stress on the fault. Although the fault most recently ruptured about 400-500 years apart, there’s no reason why it can’t go sooner next time. In fact, during the US Geological Survey’s most recent earthquake hazard assessment, they increased their assessment of risk from this fault system due to the mapping of the prehistoric earthquakes. If this fault system ruptures again, there are vastly more people in this area than last time. St. Louis, Memphis, and Nashville are all in the area that could see heavy shaking; smaller cities like Paducah, Jackson, Evansville would feel it as well, and smaller towns even closer to the epicenter could feel even stronger shaking. Several factors would likely increase the damage to these cities even beyond what is observed in major earthquakes elsewhere. Almost all the buildings in these areas sit on sediments deposited by the Mississippi River and loose sediments are extremely weak during earthquakes. When shaken, loose sediments break apart and lose all strength, a phenomenon known as liquefaction. Any buildings built atop those sediments will be at risk of severe damage or even collapse (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1WTUw1o). These areas also have very little in the way of building codes that could limit damage. Building codes are hugely important during earthquakes as unprepared buildings tend to completely collapse while limited building codes can save huge numbers of lives. Some of the states in the area do have seismic building codes, but many local areas do not. Major commercial buildings tend to do pretty well during earthquakes if the ground does not liquefy, but only 10% of the local areas have seismic building codes covering residential homes. If another earthquake were to hit these areas, residences would be absolutely devastated and the losses would rival the recent hurricanes as the worst disasters in U.S. history. If you live in these areas, earthquake preparation is smart. Have an earthquake kit, including stored water (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1pz9oUR). Make sure your family knows what to do if a quake starts. Practice the “Drop, cover, and hold on” techniques during the yearly shakeout drills. If you own property, see about a seismic retrofit – a few cheap upgrades can be the difference between no damage and a house being completely lost (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1puIWDj). And, if you have any influence on the political processes in the area, keep pressure on decision-makers to be ready. Cities can and should practice earthquake emergency responses and building codes in this area need to be upgraded to reflect the seismic risk. This fault system is still there and active. It might be 300+ years before another major quake series strikes, or it could be much less. If a major quake does hit, this is not an area you want to be in given current preparation levels. -JBB Image credit: http://bit.ly/1CTZavp Read more (tons of references): https://www.usgs.gov/natural-hazards/earthquake-hazards/lists-maps-and-statistics http://dnr.mo.gov/geology/geosrv/geores/techbulletin1.htm http://www.new-madrid.mo.us/index.aspx?nid=132 http://s1.sos.mo.gov/archives/history/bootheel http://www.showme.net/~fkeller/quake/maps.htm http://pubs.usgs.gov/fs/2009/3071/pdf/FS09-3071.pdf http://pubs.usgs.gov/pp/1538e/report.pdf http://www.britannica.com/event/New-Madrid-earthquakes-of-1811-1812 http://www.reelfoot.com/new_madrid_earthquake.htm http://bit.ly/1OvtNsu http://www.shakeout.org/centralus/

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kemetic-dreams · 5 years ago

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A slave name is the personal name given by others to an enslaved person, or a name inherited from enslaved ancestors. The modern use of the term applies mostly to African Americans and West Indians who are descended from enslaved Africans who retain their name given to their ancestors by the enslavers.

Changing from a slave name to a name embodying an African identity became common after emancipation in the 1960s by those in the African diaspora in the Americas seeking a reconnection to their African cultural roots

A number of African-Americans and Afro-Caribbeans have changed their names out of the belief that the names they were given at birth were slave names. An individual's name change often coincides with a religious conversion (Muhammad Ali changed his name from Cassius Clay, Malcolm X from Malcolm Little, and Louis Farrakhan changed his from Louis Eugene Walcott, for example) or involvement with the black nationalist movement (e.g., Amiri Baraka and Assata Shakur).

Some organizations encourage African-Americans to abandon their slave names. The Nation of Islam is perhaps the best-known of them. In his book, Message to the Blackman in America, Nation of Islam leader Elijah Muhammad writes often of slave names. Some of his comments include:

"You must remember that slave-names will keep you a slave in the eyes of the civilized world today. You have seen, and recently, that Africa and Asia will not honor you or give you any respect as long as you are called by the white man's name."

"You are still called by your slave-masters' names. By rights, by international rights, you belong to the white man of America. He knows that. You have never gotten out of the shackles of slavery. You are still in them."

The black nationalist US Organization also advocates for African-Americans to change their slave names

Assata Olugbala Shakur (born JoAnne Deborah Byron; July 16, 1947, sometimes referred to by her married surname Chesimard) is a former member of the Black Liberation Army, who was convicted of the first-degree murder of State Trooper Werner Foerster during a shootout on the New Jersey Turnpike in 1973. Shakur was also the target of the FBI's COINTELPRO program, a counterintelligence program directed towards Black Liberation groups and activists

Afeni Shakur (born Alice Faye Williams; January 10, 1947 – May 2, 2016) was an American activist and businesswoman who was the mother of American rapper and actor Tupac Shakur.

Chaka Adunne Aduffe Yemoja Hodarhi Karifi Khan. Yvette Marie Stevens (born March 23, 1953), better known by her stage name Chaka Khan, is an American singer, songwriter and musician. Her career has spanned nearly five decades, beginning in the 1970s as the lead vocalist of the funk band Rufus. Khan received public attention for her vocals and image. Known as the Queen of Funk,Khan was the first R&B artist to have a crossover hit featuring a rapper, with "I Feel for You" in 1984. Khan has won ten Grammys and has sold an estimated 70 million records worldwide.

Mutulu Shakur (born Jeral Wayne Williams; August 8, 1950) is an American activist and former member of the Black Liberation Army, sentenced to sixty years in prison for his alleged involvement in a 1981 robbery of a Brinks armored truck in which a guard and two police officers were killed. Shakur was politically active as a teen with the Revolutionary Action Movement (RAM) and later the black separatist movement the Republic of New Afrika. He was stepfather to the late rap artist Tupac Shakur.

Sekou Odinga (born Nathanial Burns) is an American activist who was imprisoned for actions with the Black Liberation Army in the 1960s and 1970s. In 1965, Sekou joined the Organization of Afro-American Unity (OAAU), founded by Malcolm X. After Malcolm's death the OAAU was not going in the direction he wanted and in 1967 he was looking at the Black Panther Party. In early 1968 he helped build the Bronx Black Panther Party. On January 17, 1969 two Panthers had been killed by members of Organization Us (a rival Black Nationalist group) and a fellow New York Panther who was in police custody was brutally beaten. Sekou was informed that police were searching for him in connection with a police shooting. At that point, Sekou joined the black underground with the Black Liberation Army.

Yafeu Akiyele Fula (October 9, 1977 – November 10, 1996), better known by his stage name Yaki Kadafi, was an American rapper, and a founder and member of the rap groups Outlawz and Dramacydal. Kadafi's parents, Yaasmyn Fula and Sekou Odinga, were both members of the Black Panther Party. Fula and Tupac Shakur's mother, Afeni Shakur, were close friends, and Kadafi and Tupac were friends until their deaths in 1996.

Louis Farrakhan Sr. ( born Louis Eugene Walcott; May 11, 1933), formerly known as Louis X, is an American minister who is the leader of the religious group Nation of Islam (NOI), which the Southern Poverty Law Center describes as a black nationalist group. Previously, he served as the minister of mosques in Boston and Harlem and had been appointed National Representative of the Nation of Islam by former NOI leader Elijah Muhammad.

Sundiata Acoli (born January 14, 1937, as Clark Edward Squire) is a former member of the Black Panther Party and the Black Liberation Army. He was sentenced to life in prison in 1974 for murdering a New Jersey state trooper

Prince. Abdul-Rahman ibn Ibrahima Sori (Arabic: عبد الرحمن ابن ابراهيم سوري‎) (1762–1829) was a Fula nobleman and Amir (commander or governor) who was captured in the Fouta Jallon region of Guinea, West Africa, and sold to slave traders in the United States in 1788.[1] Upon discovering his noble lineage, his owner Thomas Foster began referring to him as "Prince",[2] a title he kept until his final days. After spending 40 years in slavery, he was freed in 1828 by order of U.S. President John Quincy Adams and Secretary of State Henry Clay, after the Sultan of Morocco requested his release.

Omowale or Malcolm X (May 19, 1925 – February 21, 1965) was an American Muslim minister and human rights activist who was a popular figure during the civil rights movement. He is best known for his controversial advocacy for the rights of blacks; some consider him a man who indicted white America in the harshest terms for its crimes against black Americans, while others accused him of preaching racism and violence. He has been called one of the greatest and most influential African Americans in history.

Born Malcolm Little in Omaha, Nebraska, he spent his teenage years living in a series of foster homes following his father's death and his mother's hospitalization. Little engaged in several illicit activities, and was eventually sentenced to ten years in prison in 1946 for larceny and breaking and entering. In prison, he joined the Nation of Islam (NOI) and changed his name to Malcolm X because, he later wrote, Little was the name that "the white slavemaster ... had imposed upon [his] paternal forebears". After being paroled in 1952, he quickly became one of the organization's most influential leaders.

Expressing many regrets about his time with them, which he had come to regard as largely wasted, he instead embraced Sunni Islam. Malcolm X then began to advocate for racial integration and disavowed racism after completing Hajj, whereby he also became known as el-Hajj Malik el-Shabazz

Tupac Amaru Shakur; born Lesane Parish Crooks, June 16, 1971 – September 13, 1996), also known by his stage names 2Pac and Makaveli, was an American rapper and actor.He is considered by many to be one of the greatest rappers of all time. Much of Shakur's work has been noted for addressing contemporary social issues that plagued inner cities, and he is considered a symbol of resistance and activism against inequality

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (born Ferdinand Lewis Alcindor Jr.; April 16, 1947) is an American retired professional basketball player who played 20 seasons in the National Basketball Association (NBA) for the Milwaukee Bucks and the Los Angeles Lakers. During his career as a center, Abdul-Jabbar was a record six-time NBA Most Valuable Player (MVP), a record 19-time NBA All-Star, a 15-time All-NBA selection, and an 11-time NBA All-Defensive Team member. A member of six NBA championship teams as a player and two more as an assistant coach, Abdul-Jabbar twice was voted NBA Finals MVP. In 1996, he was honored as one of the 50 Greatest Players in NBA History. NBA coach Pat Riley and players Isiah Thomas and Julius Erving have called him the greatest basketball player of all time

Muhammad Ali (/ɑːˈliː/; born Cassius Marcellus Clay Jr.;January 17, 1942 – June 3, 2016) was an American professional boxer, activist, and philanthropist. Nicknamed "The Greatest," he is widely regarded as one of the most significant and celebrated sports figures of the 20th century and as one of the greatest boxers of all time.

Kwame Ture (/ˈkwɑːmeɪ ˈtʊəreɪ/; born Stokely Standiford Churchill Carmichael, June 29, 1941 – November 15, 1998) was a prominent American socialist organizer in the civil rights movement in the United States and the global Pan-African movement. Born in Trinidad, he grew up in the United States from the age of 11 and became an activist while attending Howard University. He eventually developed the Black Power movement, first while leading the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), later serving as the "Honorary Prime Minister" of the Black Panther Party (BPP), and lastly as a leader of the All-African People's Revolutionary Party (A-APRP).

Amiri Baraka (born Everett LeRoi Jones; October 7, 1934 – January 9, 2014), previously known as LeRoi Jones and Imamu Amear Baraka, was an American writer of poetry, drama, fiction, essays and music criticism. He was the author of numerous books of poetry and taught at several universities, including the State University of New York at Buffalo and the State University of New York at Stony Brook. He received the PEN/Beyond Margins Award, in 2008 for Tales of the Out and the Gone

As long as you around here wearing the white men’s name bragging about this so called democracy, you will always be looked down up, by the rest of the world-Malcom X

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libertyreads · 3 years ago

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April TBR--

The month of April is going to be just as chaotic as all of the other months this year have been. But I’m hoping to read nine books this month, somehow. About a third of them are shorter fiction and the rest are full length novels--or, you know, just straight up tomes. Let’s check out the books.

Comics--

1. Giant Days Volume 13 by John Allison-- I’m getting so close to finishing this comic series and I’m sad about it. But this is a series about a group of friends at university together in the U.K.

2. Lumberjanes Volume 13: Indoor Recess by Shannon Watters-- This comic series follows a group of girls from the Roanoke cabin at Miss Qiunzilla Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hard-Core Lady Types. They deal with all sorts of supernatural creatures and bond over handmade friendship bracelets.

Novella/Short Story--

1. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Louis Carroll-- This is a Children’s Classic that is on my 40 Books Before 40 list so I’ve got to read it. One day Alice sees a white rabbit take a watch out of its waistcoat and decides to follow it. Insanity ensues.

Novels--

1. Starry-Eyed Love by Helena Hunting (NetGalley)-- This is book #2 in a companion romance series about three sisters who run a hotel in Colorado and find love. Book 1 was friends to lovers and book 2 seems to be about two people who must work together and who can’t cross that line in their professional relationship

2. The Change by Kirsten Miller (NetGalley)-- This one was pitched to me as Big Little Lies meets The Witches of Eastwick. The Goodreads calls this a “knife-sharp feminist revenge fantasy” which is about three women who seem to develop powers thanks to a midlife crisis of some sort. As we found out with The Count of Monte Cristo, I love a good revenge story.

3. My Favorite Half-Night Stand by Christina Lauren (Kindle)-- I’m starting to get into this writing duo’s backlist. This one was cheap on Kindle a couple of weeks ago so I picked it up. I always read their books really quickly so I might slot this one in between the two tomes on my TBR for the month. But this one has a little You’ve Got Mail vibes plus friends to lovers.

4. Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots-- How we got here--with this book being put onto my TBR-- is actually pretty funny. I saw that one of my favorite booktubers just did NOT enjoy this book, but everything she disliked about it was something I would enjoy so...add to cart. I’ll give you a section of the GoodReads synopsis: “Anna does boring things for terrible people because even criminals need office help and she needs a job. Working for a monster lurking beneath the surface of the world isn’t glamorous. But is it really worse than working for an oil conglomerate or an insurance company? In this economy?” So. Much. Yes.

5. House of Sky and Breath by Sarah J. Maas-- A continuation of a series, HoSaB is where I hope the story really starts to take off. There was a ton that happened in the first book, but I feel like this next one will give us an expansion on the world. This is an Adult Epic Fantasy series that features all of the supernatural creatures we know and love.

6. Cibola Burn by James S.A. Corey-- Book #4 in the Expanse series by a writing duo. I don’t even know where to start with this one. So far I’ve read three novels and four novellas centered around this vast, vast universe. Mostly, we follow the crew of the Rocinante as the universe around them expands and chaos ensues. (Was that vague enough? I think that was vague enough.)

Overall, I’m really excited about the books on my list. Maybe not the Alice in Wonderland, but it’s short. We’ll get through it. I’ve got a mixture of sci-fi, fantasy, romance, comics, and even a classic on this TBR. Not bad.

#April tbr #monthly tbr #to be read #to be read pile #tbr pile #bookish #booklr #bookstagram #bookblr #books #flat lay #house of sky and breath #Cibola burn #Alice's adventures in wonderland #hench #giant days #lumberjanes

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timeless-hollywood-classics · 4 years ago

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Rhonda Fleming (born Marilyn Louis; August 10, 1923 – October 14, 2020) was an American film and television actress and singer. She acted in more than 40 films, mostly in the 1940s and 1950s, and became renowned as one of the most glamorous actresses of her day, nicknamed the "Queen of Technicolor" because she photographed so well in that medium.

Fleming was born Marilyn Louis in Hollywood, California, to Harold Cheverton Louis, an insurance salesman, and Effie Graham, a stage actress who had appeared opposite Al Jolson in the musical Dancing Around at New York's Winter Garden Theatre from 1914 to 1915. Fleming's maternal grandfather was John C. Graham, an actor, theater owner, and newspaper editor in Utah.

She began working as a film actress while attending Beverly Hills High School, from which she graduated in 1941. She was discovered by the well-known Hollywood agent Henry Willson, who changed her name to "Rhonda Fleming".

"It's so weird", Fleming said later. "He stopped me crossing the street. It kinda scared me a little bit -- I was only 16 or 17. He signed me to a seven-year contract without a screen test. It was a Cinderella story, but those could happen in those days."

Fleming's agent Willson went to work for David O. Selznick, who put her under contract.[5][6] She had bit parts in In Old Oklahoma (1943), Since You Went Away (1944) for Selznick, and in When Strangers Marry (1944).

She received her first substantial role in the thriller, Spellbound (1945), produced by Selznick and directed by Alfred Hitchcock. "Hitch told me I was going to play a nymphomaniac", Fleming said later. "I remember rushing home to look it up in the dictionary and being quite shocked." The film was a success and Selznick gave her another good role in the thriller The Spiral Staircase (1946), directed by Robert Siodmak.

Selznick lent her out to appear in supporting parts in the Randolph Scott Western Abilene Town (1946) at United Artists and the film noir classic Out of the Past (1947) with Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas, at RKO, where she played a harried secretary.

Fleming's first leading role came in Adventure Island (1947), a low-budget action film made for Pine-Thomas Productions at Paramount Pictures in the two-color Cinecolor process and co-starring fellow Selznick contractee Rory Calhoun.

Fleming then auditioned for the female lead in a Bing Crosby film, a part Deanna Durbin turned down at Paramount in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court (1949), a musical loosely based on the story by Mark Twain. Fleming exhibited her singing ability, dueting with Crosby on "Once and For Always" and soloing with "When Is Sometime". They recorded the songs for a three-disc, 78-rpm Decca album, conducted by Victor Young, who wrote the film's orchestral score. Her vocal coach in Hollywood, Harriet Lee, praised her "lovely voice", saying, "she could be a musical comedy queen". The movie was Fleming's first Technicolor film. Her fair complexion and flaming red hair photographed exceptionally well and she was nicknamed the "Queen of Technicolor", a moniker not worth much to her as she would have preferred to be known for her acting. Actress Maureen O'Hara expressed a similar sentiment when the same nickname was given to her around this time.

She then played another leading role opposite a comedian, in this case Bob Hope, in the The Great Lover (1949). It was a big hit and Fleming was established. "After that, I wasn't fortunate enough to get good directors", said Fleming. "I made the mistake of doing lesser films for good money. I was hot – they all wanted me – but I didn't have the guidance or background to judge for myself."

In February 1949, Selznick sold his contract players to Warner Bros, but he kept Fleming.

In 1950 she portrayed John Payne's love interest in The Eagle and the Hawk, a Western.

Fleming was lent to RKO to play a femme fatale opposite Dick Powell in Cry Danger (1951), a film noir. Back at Paramount, she played the title role in a Western with Glenn Ford, The Redhead and the Cowboy (1951).

In 1950, she ended her association with Selznick after eight years, though her contract with him had another five years to run.

Fleming signed a three-picture deal with Paramount. Pine-Thomas used her as Ronald Reagan's leading lady in a Western, The Last Outpost (1951), John Payne's leading lady in the adventure film Crosswinds (1951), and with Reagan again in Hong Kong (1951).

She sang on NBC's Colgate Comedy Hour during the same live telecast that featured Errol Flynn, on September 30, 1951, from the El Capitan Theater in Hollywood.

Fleming was top-billed for Sam Katzman's The Golden Hawk (1952) with Sterling Hayden, then was reunited with Reagan for Tropic Zone (1953) at Pine-Thomas. In 1953, Fleming portrayed Cleopatra in Katzman's Serpent of the Nile for Columbia. That same year, she filmed a western with Charlton Heston at Paramount, Pony Express (1953), and two films shot in three dimensions (3-D), Inferno with Robert Ryan at Fox, and the musical Those Redheads From Seattle with Gene Barry, for Pine-Thomas. The following year, she starred with Fernando Lamas in Jivaro, her third 3-D release, at Pine-Thomas. She went to Universal for Yankee Pasha (1954) with Jeff Chandler. Fleming also traveled to Italy to play Semiramis in Queen of Babylon (1954).

Fleming was part of a gospel singing quartet with Jane Russell, Connie Haines, and Beryl Davis.

Much of the location work for Fleming's 1955 Western Tennessee's Partner, in which she played Duchess opposite John Payne as Tennessee and Ronald Reagan as Cowpoke, was filmed at the Iverson Movie Ranch in Chatsworth, California, (known as the most heavily filmed outdoor location in the history of film and television). A distinctive monolithic sandstone feature behind which Fleming (as Duchess) hid during an action sequence, later became known as the Rhonda Fleming Rock. The rock is part of a section of the former movie ranch known as "Garden of the Gods", which has been preserved as public parkland.

Fleming was reunited with Payne and fellow redhead Arlene Dahl in a noir at RKO, Slightly Scarlet (1956). She did other thrillers that year; The Killer Is Loose (1956) with Joseph Cotten and Fritz Lang's While the City Sleeps (1956), co-starring Dana Andrews, at RKO. Fleming was top billed in an adventure movie for Warwick Films, Odongo (1956).

Fleming had the female lead in John Sturges's Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957) co-starring Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas, a big hit. She supported Donald O'Connor in The Buster Keaton Story (1957) and Stewart Granger in Gun Glory (1957) at MGM.

In May 1957, Fleming launched a nightclub act at the Tropicana in Las Vegas. It was a tremendous success. "I just wanted to know if I could get out on that stage – if I could do it. And I did! ... My heart was to do more stage work, but I had a son, so I really couldn't, but that was in my heart."

Fleming was Guy Madison's co star in Bullwhip (1958) for Allied Artists, and supported Jean Simmons in Home Before Dark (1958), which she later called her favorite role ("It was a marvellous stretch", she said).

Fleming was reunited with Bob Hope in Alias Jesse James (1959) and did an episode of Wagon Train.

She was in the Irwin Allen/Joseph M. Newman production of The Big Circus (1959), co-starring Victor Mature and Vincent Price. This was made for Allied Artists, whom Fleming later sued for unpaid profits.

Fleming travelled to Italy again to make The Revolt of the Slaves (1959) and was second billed in The Crowded Sky (1960).

In 1960, she described herself as "semi-retired", having made money in real estate investments. That year she toured her nightclub act in Las Vegas and Palm Springs.

During the 1950s, 1960s, and into the 1970s, Fleming frequently appeared on television with guest-starring roles on The Red Skelton Show, The Best of Broadway, The Investigators, Shower of Stars, The Dick Powell Show, Wagon Train, Burke's Law, The Virginian, McMillan & Wife, Police Woman, Kung Fu, Ellery Queen, and The Love Boat.

In 1958, Fleming again displayed her singing talent when she recorded her only LP, entitled simply Rhonda (reissued in 2008 on CD as Rhonda Fleming Sings Just For You). In this album, which was released by Columbia Records, she blended then-current songs like "Around The World" with standards such as "Love Me or Leave Me" and "I've Got You Under My Skin". Conductor-arranger Frank Comstock provided the musical direction.

On March 4, 1962, Fleming appeared in one of the last segments of ABC's Follow the Sun in a role opposite Gary Lockwood. She played a Marine in the episode, "Marine of the Month".

In December 1962, Fleming was cast as the glamorous Kitty Bolton in the episode, "Loss of Faith", on the syndicated anthology series, Death Valley Days, hosted by Stanley Andrews. In the story line, Kitty pits Joe Phy (Jim Davis) and Peter Gabriel (Don Collier) to run against each other for sheriff of Pima County, Arizona. Violence results from the rivalry.

In the 1960s, Fleming branched out into other businesses and began performing regularly on stage and in Las Vegas.

One of her final film appearances was in a bit-part as Edith von Secondburg in the comedy The Nude Bomb (1980) starring Don Adams. She also appeared in Waiting for the Wind (1990).

Fleming has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. In 2007, a Golden Palm Star on the Palm Springs Walk of Stars was dedicated to her.

Fleming worked for several charities, especially in the field of cancer care, and served on the committees of many related organizations. In 1991, her fifth husband, Ted Mann, and she established the Rhonda Fleming Mann Clinic for Women's Comprehensive Care at the UCLA Medical Center.

In 1964, Fleming spoke at the "Project Prayer" rally attended by 2,500 at the Shrine Auditorium in Los Angeles, California. The gathering, which was hosted by Anthony Eisley, a star of ABC's Hawaiian Eye series, sought to flood the United States Congress with letters in support of mandatory school prayer, following two decisions in 1962 and 1963 of the United States Supreme Court, which struck down mandatory school prayer as conflicting with the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment to the United States Constitution.

Joining Fleming and Eisley at the rally were Walter Brennan, Lloyd Nolan, Dale Evans, Pat Boone, and Gloria Swanson. Fleming declared, "Project Prayer is hoping to clarify the First Amendment to the Constitution and reverse this present trend away from God." Eisley and Fleming added that John Wayne, Ronald Reagan, Roy Rogers, Mary Pickford, Jane Russell, Ginger Rogers, and Pat Buttram would also have attended the rally had their schedules not been in conflict.

Fleming married six times:

Thomas Wade Lane, interior decorator, (1940–1942; divorced), one son

Dr. Lewis V. Morrill, Hollywood physician, (July 11, 1952 – 1954; divorced)

Lang Jeffries, actor, (April 3, 1960 – January 11, 1962; divorced)

Hall Bartlett, producer (March 27, 1966 – 1972; divorced)

Ted Mann, producer, (March 11, 1977 – January 15, 2001; his death)

Darol Wayne Carlson (2003 – October 31, 2017; his death)

Through her son Kent Lane (b. 1941), Rhonda also had two granddaughters (Kimberly and Kelly), four great-grandchildren (Wagner, Page, Lane, and Cole), and two great-great-grandchildren.

She was a Presbyterian and a Republican who supported Dwight Eisenhower during the 1952 presidential election.

Fleming died on October 14, 2020, in Saint John's Health Center, Santa Monica, California, at the age of 97. She is interred at Hillside Memorial Park in Culver City, California.

#rhonda fleming #classic hollywood #classic movie stars #golden age of hollywood #old hollywood #1940s hollywood #1950s hollywood #1960s hollywood #1970s hollywood

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revolutionary-demosthenes · 4 years ago

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Louis de Manoël de Végobre (Pt. 2/2)

So, now that I’ve written about De Végobre’s life in general, on to the second part... which I know I should’ve posted like a week ago. (Sorry!)

And as a prelude, let me just say that since there is so little on De Végobre, it is hard to talk definitively about really anything in his life. This post is going by the information that I have at the moment.

So, was De Végobre likely romantically and/or sexually attracted to men? If so, who was he in a relationship with?

As mentioned before, De Végobre, Kinloch, and Laurens were very close while they all lived in Geneva. Even Gregory Massey, when examining their bond, points out that this was “the beginning of a pattern: he [John Laurens] continually centered his life around homosocial attachments to other men.”*(John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory Massey, page 40.)

(I wouldn't agree on the “homosocial” part.)

Francis Kinloch and John Laurens were pretty likely in a relationship for at least some of their time in Geneva, but the question is, how did De Végobre fit into that?

The way De Végobre writes to Laurens after he hasn’t written for a little while also definitely points to a very strong friendship at least. Not writing for long periods of time was not unusual for John, the unusual thing here is how much Kinloch and De Végobre minded his casual attitude towards correspondence. This could also be indicative of a stronger relationship between them.

As an interesting comparison, Alexander Hamilton wrote this to Laurens on September 11th, 1779:

“I acknowlege but one letter from you, since you left us, of the 14th of July which just arrived in time to appease a violent conflict between my friendship and my pride. I have written you five or six letters since you left Philadelphia and I should have written you more had you made proper return. But like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconstant and an ungrateful [blank space].”

This is Hamilton after Laurens hasn’t responded to “five or six” letters.

This is Végobre after Laurens hasn’t written back to one letter (I’ve quoted this in the pt. 1):

“When I have wrote [&] sent an epistle, I am always imagining the history of it; I long to see it [illegible], arriving, read, and answered; I Keep in my memory its date, I calculate the time of its arrival, and I impatiently expect the time of receiving an answer. This longed for answer arrives at length; then I am contented, and beginning another letter I prepare myself for enjoying still such a pleasure. But—if no answer… What must I think? I am concerned, sometimes a little angry. How does my friend do? Is he sick, absent, or idle in answering? Suspense is a hard thing.

I have wrote to you on the 24th of December, you have not yet answered. If you are guilty of negligence, pray do not aggravate your fault by a longer delay. Fault, I say; indeed I think it to be a fault to let pass over a great time without answering the letter of one who deserved answer. There is the end of my chiding, and I hope my thanks will soon began: I mean, that my second stroke shall get me an answer. Indeed, I would be sorry if your continued silence would hinder me from setting pen to paper a third letter.”

“How angry they get when you don’t respond to letters” is not by any means a foolproof way to measure attachment, but the similarities between the responses are interesting. Hamilton’s is more teasing, but the basic message remains “Please write to me. I’ve written to you, but I’ll stop if you don’t write enough.”

Some more concrete examples of strong affection between De Végobre and Laurens can be found in other letters from De Végobre to Laurens, such as one written the 24th of December, 1774. In this letter, De Végobre again drops some very blatant hints to please, please write, and closes it with this:

“Adieu, I dont know if in this language I have been able to express my heart’s true sentiments; you shall see in this letter my knowledge in your tongue; you will laugh at my mistakes in grammar, but not at my sentiments.”

There are two someone’s De Végobre’s “sentiments” could be referring to. One is John Laurens, but the other is Francis Kinloch. In this same letter to Laurens, we find our first evidence that Kinloch and De Végobre could have been lovers. De Végobre writes in the above letter,

“...never, never in my life I have been so well entertained as when I read Milton; and why? First, for Poet’s Excellency, and secondly and chiefly because I read it with Kinloch. My beloved, my dearest friend is Kinloch; how happy am I, when I teach him some part of natural Philosophy, when I read with him both English and French Poets, when I talk with him about various matters plainly and heartily as with a friend! Let me say again, Kinloch is my beloved, my dearest friend.”

Well. This kind of speaks for itself. De Végobre certainly uses some very affectionate wordings here, and calls Kinloch his “beloved” and “dearest friend” twice in two sentences.

I do take note of Végobre saying “as with a friend,” as opposed to “with my friend” or something along those lines. The way Végobre phrases it could suggest that Kinloch is something other than a friend, though Végobre also calls Kinloch his “dearest friend” a couple times. Just... something to notice.

The best way to get more information on the nature of Végobre and Kinloch’s relationship would be letters between the two, but unfortunately if such letters do exist, they aren't available to the public. However, Kinloch does mention De Végobre in a letter way later, in 1804. This letter was to none other than Johannes von Müller.

As you may know, Kinloch came back to Geneva with his family in 1804, and Müller actually might have stayed with him and his wife (after she had a baby and the midwife moved out.) Anyway, in this letter, (which thankfully is in English,) Kinloch is musing about remembering his earlier times in Geneva, and he says, “...De Vegobre I have not seen.”

So what? Well, this casual reference implies that Müller at least knew of, if not knew Végobre, especially as for most others mentioned in this letter Kinloch explains their connection to him. And there’s more-- Charles Victor de Bonstetten, Müller’s lover, also mentioned De Végobre in passing in a letter. This adds to the evidence of De Végobre being at least a little a part of this pretty-openly-gay-for-the-time-period group of people.

In La France protestante: ou, Vies des protestants français qui se sont fait un nom dans l'histoire depuis les premiers temps de la réformation jusqu'à la reconnaissance du principe de la liberté des cultes par l'Assemblée nationale; ouvrage précéde d'une notice historique sur le protestantisme en France, suivi de pièces justificatives, et rédigé sur des documents en grand partie inédits, Volumes 7-8 by Eugene and Emile Haag, it says, “He also spent some time at the castle of Coppet with M[adame] de Staël, who more than once used his vast education and his extraordinary memory.” Here’s the thing-- Madame de Stäel and Coppet are also mentioned a lot in the book, Briefkorrespondenzen Karl Viktor von Bonstettens und seines Kreises, which is essentially what it sounds like; a ton of Bonstetten, Müller, Kinloch, Frederike Brun, etc’s correspondence. From what I can figure (the book’s mostly in German) Müller and possibly some others were at Coppet in 1804. The frustrating thing about the quote about De Végobre and de Stäel is that there’s no dates as to when he stayed with her, only that it was between 1789 and 1814. It may have been in 1807, but whether he was there before then I don’t know. But at the very least, De Végobre had some close mutual friends with Müller and Bonstetten.

As I mentioned before, De Végobre never married. De Végobre seems to have been a friendly and affectionate individual, and he lived a long time. And it was also rarer to not marry back then. Why, then, would he never marry? The reason that strikes me as most likely when put with other evidence is that he was attracted to men.

#Louis Manoel de vegobre #Johannes von müller #Charles Victor de Bonstetten #Francis Kinloch #John Laurens #letters #quotes #18th century #19th century #louis de manoël de végobre #madame de stäel #Geneva good times #essay #essay 12 #hahaha im never gonna get 39 more done in month #probably

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 3 years ago

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FIC: Pink Moon Rising

Notes: Erzulie - Gina Torres Agwe - Gary Dourdan Ogoun - Jimmy-Jean Louis Damballah - Elvis Nolasco Baron - Mustafa Shakir Maman Bridgette - Saorise Ronan Filomez - Logan Browning Ti Malice - John Boyega Papa Legba - Sydney Poitier Anaisa Pye - Danai Gurira

----

Jo knew the moment that the letter box had a raised signal that there was something peculiar going on at that point.

They rarely got mail - most post going to the bar and she or Grey would pick most up whenever they went by to either do work or visit Harry, sometimes the researcher would bring any post with him for a movie night instead - and usually only ever junk mail and not worthy of the flag going up.

She wrapped Nana’s leash around her wrist a few times as the dog pulled and tugged impatient to go inside and have some water, and flipping the mail box open; Jo frowned at the light pink envelope with something written harshly in jagged lettering in red on one side and some design on the other. Picking it up and finally heading inside and unclipping the dog as she went running down the hall towards the kitchen and her water bowl, Jo flipped the letter back and forth over her wrist as she walked after at a slower pace.

“What you got there, Jo?” Grey’s voice pulled her out of her pondering, the flipping stopping after a moment as she moved around to press a quick kiss to the back of his neck on her way past to grab a juice out of the fridge.

“Letter.”

“Oh? Did Harry come around?”

“Nah, it was in the letter box.”

“We got a letter in the letter box?”

“I did.” She replied as she moved to sit down at the kitchen table, flipping the envelope upwards to face her - taking in her name clearly but jaggedly written across the front in the dark reddish brown ink, with a few dots bled across the front. Running her finger over her name, Jo lifted her finger to her nose before pulling a face realizing it hadn’t been ink at all. Perturbed, she flipped the letter back over and sucked in a breath at the delicate design all the same dark red - blood, not ink, as she’d identified - with two waves curling opposite each other, forming a heart alongside the soft swirls and the biblical-like crosses stabbing through the center of it. A design Jo was used to drawing on a rundown floor in dust or carving into a candle. “Oh.”

“You got a letter? Here?” Grey’s voice was tinged with worry from what she could hear, finger still running gently over the design and not yet daring to break the seal. “Who’s it from then?”

“A.. friend, I hope.” She muttered the last words as quietly as possible, a tiny frown on her face before sliding a finger under the envelope tongue and slowly tearing it open.

Pulling the single card out from inside, Jo let out an unexpected laugh at the design on the front - a soft pink moon with three circles underneath it all in a soft shimmering card stock - and the swirly lettering stating ‘You’re Invited!’ written across it. Opening the card itself, there was a date, time and address as well as three little crosses in the bottom corner all in the same not-ink writing as the envelope.

“What is it, Jo?” Jo jerked a bit at the hand on her shoulder as the shadow came over to look, a concerned look on his face that she’s sure came from her laughter and the peculiarity of it altogether.

“It’s an invitation, hun. I’ve got a… party to go to, maybe.”

—

Jo let out a quiet sigh to herself as she actually found herself out front of the building compound listed at the address on St Charles Avenue. It was definitely not somewhere she would usually be found, but as she had gotten out of her car and walked up the block towards the place, she found herself glad that she’d decided to wear something nice as she looked up at the ornate doorway of the exquisite old building. It helped the layered yellow dress she’d gotten the previous year and the jeweled sandals matched with it so well but both allowed her comfort while looking in keeping with the sophistication of the event. It also helped that the skirt of her dress was flowy enough to allow a pair of thin bike shorts underneath that likewise let her wear two thigh holsters for a pair of knives, just in case - she had been invited after all, but she wasn’t completely foolish.

Stepping through the wrought iron gates of the external courtyard from the street into the space, Jo blinked in confusion as the sounds of the traffic outside disappeared and were replaced with the sweet sounds of birdsong and the soft sound of music echoing out from the doors of the building. The whole place felt peaceful yet joyful all at once, and something settled sharply in her stomach to be on guard against giving in to that feeling. She’d been tricked once before from it, and she wouldn’t give in again so quickly.

Moving along the path and up the old stone steps up to historic mansion - it's columns white and gleaming, with the white wrought iron spandrels and fretwork like beautiful spiderwebs spreading from one pole to the next over the wide porch as she made her way up. The wood didn't even groan under foot despite clearly being aged and worn in, lived in and welcoming to many, many guests over the years. The front door was intricately carved wood with brightly colored glass shards cut into the design like jewels. It all made a very beautiful and awe-inspiring visage, and as Jo lifted a hand to the elegant door knocker she half expected to be shooed off as an interloper, someone clearly not suited for such a place even with her designer dress and pretty shoes from someone who likely would fit in in such elegant surroundings.

There was an extremely tall man that opened the door, his face set in a firm but bland expression. "Invitation?"

"Oh, uh. Here?"

"Hmmm, Harvelle-" The man frowned for a moment and looked carefully at the invitation she'd handed over with a slight bit of trepidation and then pulled up a clipboard to review. There was a moment before he stepped back and to the side, door opening wider and a hand waving her in in greeting. "Welcome Ms. Harvelle. You'll find the party in the inner courtyard, and all gifts are to be presented when requested."

"Gifts?" Jo asked, confusion rife as she moved through the door and craned her neck up at the man as if he'd have an answer, before frowning in confusion as the welcoming smile slid off of his face and was replaced with the same bland look as before. His eyes looked glazed over though and unfocused as he took a step back to stand beside the door and almost blended into the shadows. Blinking a few times as they watered trying to keep his stare and catch his eye contact, she rubbed at her eyes a little before nervously making her way further into the grand house.

The floor felt strange underfoot, and glancing down, she was surprised to see the entire floor was covered in a thick layer of rose petals from the lightest whites to the deepest, darkest reds and all the shades in between. They were thick enough to coat the entire surface and the scent of roses came forth with each step but was somehow suitably subtle and delicate to the flowers themselves. The grandeur of the place was beyond anywhere Jo was used to visiting - art covered the walls of the entry foyer and then the hallway she slowly made her way into, and there were antiques in the Spanish, French and English styles as well as some clearly even more ancient designs that echoed the beadwork and colorful nature of Africa that somehow stood out even more in beauty against the other flourishes. Moving along the hall, turning left when she got through the first set of doors out of habit and then following the turn of the hall to the right - Jo stared in wonder at the light filtering through the next array of stained glass windows and double doors that opened into the inner courtyard where she could hear noise and see the shadows of figures moving around.

The courtyard was clearly where she was expected to go, as it was filled with guests milling about in different groups and the aurora of power from so many Pagan gods assembled in one place was electric. Her eyes darted about cautiously before entering the courtyard - taking in the wide number of people and the different postures across the space. That she could tell who was a god and who was merely mortal like her felt unsettling, the brightly colorful garb and confidence that rolled off of the gods so at odds with the people - horses, her mind supplied to her, or rather those that would wish to provide their bodies for possession and channeling of the gods and goddesses will - that were in mostly dull neutral clothes that hung from their frames but was not so standardised as she’d have expected. It was more the deference and slight bow of their heads that gave away those here as worshippers from those to be worshipped. There were still more people though - those mortals who offered other types of sacrifice than their own beings, clearly wearing their version of ‘Sunday Best’ and while not so subservient as the horses milling about, were still clearly deferent to the gods that moved through the space, heads tilted just that little bit or eyes just not able to hold direct eye contact with those they worshipped to. Wiping her sweaty hands cautiously against the fabric of her brightly colored dress, Jo took a calming breath before throwing her head back and stepping forward as confidently as possible once she’d taken in as much as she could from the secluded spot just before the doorway, eyes up and back straight, refusing to be thought as cowed by any of those with power in the space.

The purpose of the celebration was clearly easy to locate - the rattan throne raised up on a dais towards the centre of the courtyard was obvious and drew the eye. The peacock chair throne was resplendent in its detail the same was the goddess that sat upon it was glorious in the late-morning sun. Erzulie was holding her court.

Jo’s eyes locked onto the goddess’ after a few steps into the courtyard, and the slow smile that came across the goddess of femininity’s face grew with each step as she reached out a hand, beckoning to her as Jo moved slowly forward. Her wrists were covering in gold and beaded bangles, her golden rings shining catching the light as she called out in a warm, comforting voice, “Joanna! My darling girl, come here.”

It wasn’t a command at least, and Jo felt her own lips twitching into a smile at the way those between her and the one goddess she knew parted like the sea before her. Moving closer, the blonde barely concealed an eyeroll as she got to the raised platform acting as a dais that the beautiful goddess sat on. The rose petals were twice as thick on the platform, and Jo glanced in confusion as a man with thick braided hair stood up from a seat off to Erzulie’s right-hand side to take the brightly embroidered pillow from his chair and placed it a foot before the goddess with a smirk. Looking at the pillow and then back to meet the woman’s eyes, Jo quirked a brow at the other questioningly as the goddess stood.

“My sweet girl, how are you? Did you have a good trip down to my humble little party?” “I mean, New Orleans in Summer is a bit of the pits.” “So true, so true my dear. Much warmer here than that little lake you’ve taken to.”

Jo found herself holding back an eyeroll at that - the crisp summers at home compared to the muggy humidity of Louisiana were the difference of the sweat beads rolling down her back - and taking the goddess’ hand when she offered it before scowling slightly as she was guided down onto the bright pink cushion as Erzulie settled herself back onto her rattan throne with a ringing laugh.

“Apologies though, youngling, I unfortunately am not the one who can control the weather. Nor was I the one to name the date,” Erzulie shrugged a shoulder, the delicate golden chains that adorned her neck and shoulders rattling faintly with the movement as she shook out the yards of shimmering pastel pink silk that was draped over her body from the haltered dress the goddess wore about her to cover her own bejeweled, bare feet. Jo spotted the flash of toe rings on the feminine toes that poked out before being covered with the silk as she herself had plopped down indelicately onto the cushion at the goddess’ feet, uncaring if her shoes scraped up petals or her skirts caught between her legs. “You see, today is my feast day.”

“Happy birthday.” Jo snarked back with a smirk, picking at an invisible piece of lint from her lap before she looked back up at the other at the laugh that rang out again. “If I’d known, I’d’ve brought a present.”

“Ah, but already have - or rather, will - my little flower. It has been quite a time since you’ve made a devotional, after all, and I had hoped you would have done one before now so I could be my very, very shiny best-” The dark skinned goddess pouted, lips full and as pink as her dress as she looked the part of a spoiled child not having gotten her way, before she tossed her head back and gave another of those shrugs that made her necklaces and chains catch and shimmer in the light. Erzulie waved a non-commital hand again before she reached out to run the same over Jo’s own hair with a softer smile. “But then I thought, what better gift, my sweet, then for you to come and partake in the festivities yourself? Besides, half the point is the show after all, and your devotionals are always so… What word would you say, my love?”

The man who’d moved the pillow spoke then, even without Erzulie’s eyes moving from Jo’s face. “Awe inspiring, my beauty.” The man smiled - all teeth sharp and white like a sharks - towards Jo for a moment before glancing over his shoulder back towards the goddess’ face. “You will always in all ways be the most gorgeous woman of course, but you do always seem more refreshed and extra beautiful afterwards.”

“Oh you flatter me, my love.” Jo blinked in surprise to see the slight blush on the other woman’s face before she let out another loud laugh. “But you are right. You see, Joanna, your prayers are always so invigorating for an old lady like me. And I’d love to rub that in that good for nothing Anasia’s face that I have such a daughter.”

Blonde brow raised, Jo blinked a few times as the goddess’ words before she shrugged a shoulder of her own in return. It was true she hadn’t called upon the other’s powers in some time - her hunts more straight forward lately and even more sparsely in between as she had spent more time working on answering hunter queries and helping research than actively hunting for a while, soaking in the chance to be at home during the warm months to spend with her love and baby girl instead of in her sweltering car on the road - and if the answer to getting home safe and sound was to light a candle and say her usual prayers for safety and protection, it wasn’t like that would be hard. Sitting on a cushion like a pet at the others feet however, that was not so easy, and shuffling uncomfortably, Jo raised her other brow before sighing.

“I suppose that would have ta do for a gift, right? Can’t really pull anythin’ out of my pockets when I hadn’t planned anythin’.” “So true, but don’t you worry my dear, I can promise to appreciate it the most.”

“Even more than my gift?” The man standing to the left of Erzulie’s throne spoke then, dark brown eyes sparkling with the same humour as his tone as he placed a hand over the other’s shoulder. “Why, I am hurt, my love, absolutely skewered through. I thought my love meant something!”

Erzulie let out another loud laugh, her hand moving from Jo’s hair to catch the man’s hand and pressing a bright pink lipped kiss to the palm of his hand - an imprint left behind as she squeezed his fingers. “You think so very highly of yourself, don’t you, husband-dear?”

“Of course, my dear, I’ve always done so. A snake may change his skin, but he doesn’t change what he is.” “Damballah, you think your gift outshone mine?” “Given mine did not smell of seaweed, Agwe, I am absolutely certain it did.” “Mine did not smell like seaweed, you good for nothing snake-”

The back and forth between the two men was quick and fast, Jo barely registering the jokes of the two as her mind scrambled to assign the name of Damballah, the serpent father, to the standing man and the title of Agew the sea god to the man that had set the pillow down for her. Blinking rapidly, her eyes quickly jerked between both men, scanning anything that would be recognisable before she noted the golden rings each wore with their own symbol that matched two of the three rings on Erzulie’s own hand as she laughed and batted at the both of them. Turning her eyes over towards the quiet, stoic man that sat to Erzulie’s left in front of Damballah, Jo noted the ring on his hand barely visible under his own long sleeves despite the heat matched the goddess’ last ring - identifying him as the third and last of her husbands, Ogoun the warrior. As the three others continued to speak, their tones warm and playful even if the gods both had a slight undertone of threat to it, Jo found herself simply staring back at the silent, considering look she was getting from the third.

“Come on, girlie.” Jo jerked in surprise at the hand that fell on her arm as the sea god got back to his feet with another of those sharp, white smiles. “We’ll have to show you around to our love’s guests before the devotionals and sacrifices start. It’s all part of the spectacle to show you off after all.”

“I, uh, that is, I’m not-” The hunter stammered a few times as the god stood in front of her and held out his hand to help her up. Panicked, Jo’s eyes darted back to her patron’s for a moment, as if uncertain what to do. Erzulie really was the only one she even knew how to interact with at all in the room, but the goddess was smiling gently at her as she was pulled to her feet. “Um… o-okay?”

“Don’t worry, little huntress,” Agwe spoke gently a few moments later after he’d helped her back to her feet and down the steps from the dais and back into the milling, curious crowd. Jo’d noticed how Damballah had moved to reset the cushion onto the seat the sea-god had been on and taken the spot for himself as the pair had moved away, Erzulie’s attention taken up by her other two husband’s as her first had taken Jo away. His voice, the first husband’s, was soft and his green eyes caught her uncertain ones as she finally looked back from the centre of the room to catch his own. “You are here under my lovely wife’s complete protection, little one. Nobody here could touch you, even if they dared. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Oh will I? What makes you think I’m worried ‘bout that?” “The ear splittingly loud thudding of that heart of yours, first off-” “I am not-!” “And secondly, because my darling beauty did mention your first interaction with a crowd of gods may not have been so… comforting an experience as she hopes you will find this one.”

“Oh?” Jo breathed the word out in surprise, blinking widely as she glanced over her shoulder towards where the beauty still sat laughing with the men to either side. Surprised that the goddess might have understood or possibly even felt Jo’s uncertainty and fear the first time they had met. That a being with endless years and so little humanity left to her could remember and thought to ensure that Jo would feel comfortable was a peculiar feeling. Turning back to the speculative look she was receiving from the god holding her arm as he took two cups of some fruity drink from a passing waiter and held one out to her, Jo quirked a brow up at him. “And what makes you so certain I’m safe here? I know your, uh, pantheon of sorts isn’t known to be the most…”

“Cohesive?” “I was gonna say safe.” “Ouch, cruel! No wonder you are my love’s favored!” “Favored?”

“You think all of those who pray to my love gets their prayers answered?” Agwe sent her a surprised look in return as he took a sip of his own drink as Jo fiddled with the straw on hers, before letting out a loud crack of laughter that sounded like the oncoming book of thunder rolling over an unprepared sea. “Only the most special of our devotees get even more than a scrap of our attention, given our long lives and how little you little humans deserve of our attention. And you, dear flower, are by far my wife’s most favored and most devoted and most loved daughter.”

Jo barely held back the shudder at that thought. She took a sip of her drink mulling over the words as she was slowly led in an aimless circle around the room, as if the god leading her had no intention of actually introducing her about until he was certain of her mindset and understanding of the situation she had actually entered.

Swallowing the sugary sweet nectar from the mango drink, she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and really looking around the assembled groups. When she’d arrived she had thought that it was simply the changes in clothes and the crackling of energy that could show the difference between the gods and those devotees at the party. And while that was true, she could see clearer now as she glanced about the different groups milling about. There was no touching, no interacting, no affection or care shown between the gods and the humans in the space. The way the mortals would defer and drop their gazes after a few seconds made complete sense - devoted, god-fearing humans of course feeling unworthy of attention or uncertainty at catching more than a little attention - but blinking her eyes, Jo found herself surprised to note how those she could see to be gods barely noticed those beneath them. Their gazes would slide over and off the mortals, never catching any amount of attention for more than a second, as if there was nothing of interest to them. That was, except when she would catch an eye looking at her that stared firmly back all around the room. Even the god holding her elbow gently was unusual, no other god seemed to even brush a human as they stood talking. Everything seemed so in tune towards the fact that people were boring to this crowd of gods, that humans were typically below notice.

“Oh.” “Very succinct of you, Joanna.” “It’s Jo.”

“Of course it is, Jo.” The correction took her by surprise, eyes jerking back to the smirking god beside her as if he knew he’d managed to catch her off guard. A large hand threw out gesturing about the space for a moment as they finished the first lap about the room towards his goddess wife. “But the point stands, as I hope you’ve noticed. You are safe here, for humans are both nothing to us, and you are also important to my love so will be safe here on her devotional day.”

“So I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t her party?” “Of course not. But it is. So you will be safe.” “Uh huh.”

There was a long sigh before the god beside her let out a chuckle. “Since you seem to have grasped some of it, let me introduce you around then. But no taking advantage of your protection to cause trouble-” The look she got from Agwe, as she raised a brow and opened her mouth as if to argue, was knowing and bemused. “You think I don’t realise only one as troublesome and unpredictable as my love would catch her attention? No, I see through you, girlie, and I would think better of some of it.”

“Only some?” “He means anything that would get you into the more fun kind of trouble.”

Jo let out a surprised yelp at the interruption from her other side, eyes wide and confused at being approached out of the blue by someone here. Everything seemed so strangely structured even though it wasn’t, and she half expected to be the one taken to be introduced to whomever Erzulie or her husbands’ decided to dictate she would. Blinking in surprise, she turned to look at the boyish grin on the man that had approached, taking in the roughishly bemused look on the man’s face.

Swallowing thickly on nothing, Jo shrugged a shoulder as she glanced back at the god that had let go of her arm at the other’s appearance before raising a brow at the newcomer. “What kind of fun is that?”

“My kind, I’m betting. Or perhaps Baron and Bridgette’s type.” The boyish charm didn’t leave at all as the god grinned at her still, his eyes shining with a warmth she hadn’t noticed had been missing in Erzulie’s companions until she saw it in this god’s eyes. There was a beat before a wide hand was held out towards her, and Jo let out a loud laugh as she shook his only to have an unexpected zap come from the touch. “My bad!”

“Ti Malice, are you up to your tricks again?” “Hey, I heard you promising safety not utter boredom. Lighten up, Agwe, or your wife might get bored of all three of you and be after some more fun.” “What makes you think anyone wants your kind of fun here?” “If I wasn’t wanted, my invitation would’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

“What makes you think it didn’t?” Jo could hear herself speaking before she recognised she’d even spoken, and getting a warm laugh from the man beside her felt like both an achievement and something easy to achieve all at once. Agwe simply gave a sigh and an eye roll as she turned to look at the new god. “Or would it not have mattered if it did get lost?”

“Oh it absolutely wouldn’t have mattered. I never miss a party when I can.” The god grinned back at her, all teeth but in a way filled with joy and excitement and not the slightly cold, predatory look that the sea-god’s smile gave off. There was a beat before the other smiled even wider and gave a exaggerated bow and hand gesture. “Since the cold fish won’t do it, may I introduce myself? Ti Malice, trickster-extraordinaire, pleasure to meet you.”

Jo let out a little giggle of her own at the flashy showmanship, her mind immediately recognising some of the flare to the god’s presentation from her experiences with her fake-trickster friend. “Nice ta meet cha, I’m Jo Harvelle.”

“There now, boring bits out of the way - we can get rid of the boring old seaman, right?” Ti Malice’s smirk should have sent a shiver down her spine if it had been directed at her, instead it was fully focused on the glaring god beside her who stared back for a long moment. “Oh come on, old man. You know I might be a trickster but I’m not an idiot. Besides, your wife is waving for you.”

Jo glanced back over her shoulder as did Agwe beside her, both to see Erzulie waving a hand towards them and calling barely audibly over the distance and the hum of conversation in the room for the sea-god himself. Jo glanced up at the taller god for a long moment before he gave her a sharp nod and turned to head back to his wife’s side. Blinking a few times, she was unsurprised to realise the trickster had stepped carefully closer on her other side that she shuffled an inch away, getting a laugh in response.

“Don’t worry, I’m far far more behaved than what my title suggests-” “Oh? Because I’ve some history with tricksters. And the last one I dealt with was a right piece’a work.” “Have you now? Which of us was that?” “Stupid fuckin’ fairy-”

Her grumbled words got a loud laugh from the trickster beside her, his laughter bouncing about the courtyard and cutting over and through other conversations like a booming thunderstorm. Jo blushed as she noticed several heads turn their way and staring for a long moment, fiddling with her dress awkwardly as she waited for the man beside her to unbend from his laughter.

“Oh! Oh no wonder you looked like you’d sucked a lemon! Not all of us are like him, I promise.” Ti Malice’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears of laughter as he finally righted himself, wiping at his eyes with a few warm chuckles. “I mean, we are all like that - but some of us are a little more fun and a little less sadistic.”

“That’s good to know-” “If you want sadistic though- come with me!”

Jo let out a surprised yelp as the god grabbed a hold of her closet wrist and tugged her quickly, pulling her through the crowd and weaving through the different groups milling about until he’d reached some unknown destination. She looked up from her feet, where she’d been focusing on not tripping over or slipping on the built up rose petals covering the uneven ground, to blink in surprise at the pair that the trickster god had brought her to.

A willowy, redheaded woman with pale skin that glowed in the warm sunlight that managed to dapple through the overhead tree canopy and an even taller man with skin as dark as hers was pale looked back at her curiously. Ti Malice’s grin was uncomfortably towards that edge of sadistic glee as he gave a tug to pull her in closer to the small little group. “Hey Mama and Daddy, want to see something strange? Look at this one!”

Jo jerked her hand back out of the god’s grip, temper flaring as she slapped away the hand flourishing towards her as if showing off something to the other two. The look of unrepentant on the trickster’s face was far too well suited to his boyish face, and she barely bit down snarling at him as she was gifted with a teasing tongue stuck out at her for a second.

“Malis, what trouble are you causin’ now?” The woman spoke softly, voice gentle and lilting with an Irish accent that matched up in Jo’s mind with her looks quickly. Glancing between the goddess and the man with his arm firmly around her waist, there was a second before Jo managed to work out the pairs identity as the Baron and his wife, Bridgette. “You sure you should be playin’ such games today?”

“Oh Erzy has a good sense of humor when she wants to-” “And you think today she does?” “Well, she will. Or else she’d’ve sent Ogoun over to stop me.”

“He isn’t wrong, renmen,” The Baron said, his voice a gruff growl. Jo barely stopped the shiver the god’s voice made want to happen, the tone rough and somehow bone-chilling for her. Likely something to do with the power the god of the dead held. There was a second before she managed to get control of herself again and glanced up to meet his piercing look straight on like none of the mortals in the whole space seemingly had, and couldn’t hold back the shiver at the next words spoken. “You have died.”

“Yeah, just the once.” Jo replied after a long, quiet moment between the quartet, unable to drop the death god’s gaze. “Fun times had by all, totally enjoyed chokin’ on my own blood. Would totally recommend it.”

“Would you now?” Jo swallowed thickly herself at the dark smile that graced the god’s face as he stared back at her undeterred from her sarcasm. Baron’s eyes stared her down for a further moment before he finally turned to look towards his wife with a wide grin. “I like this one.”

“Now, sweetie, I don’t think that’s goin’ ta work very well. You know how Erzulie is about bein’ the centre of attention and sharin’ anythin’.” Bridgette’s smile was just to the side of patronising as she gazed back at her husband for a moment before rolling her eyes at his shrug. Turning towards Jo, the redhead held out a dainty hand to shake. “Since neither of these men have any manners, I’m Bridgette, and this is my husband the Baron.”

“I guessed that.” Jo smiled back slightly, still processing what the pair had been talking about before shaking her head and taking the other woman’s hand. “ ‘m Jo. Erzulie’s my, uh, I guess patron?”

“Oh yes, that’d be the right term for you-” “Good to know.” “I much prefer my followers to be like that myself too. Unlike some others.” “Huh?”

“Not enough free will, sweetheart, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Bridgette waved a delicate hand around towards the rest of the crowd, pointing out towards the horses milling about in their dull clothes and heads entirely bowed to below that of the shortest god irrespective of their own height. There was a much older man, clearly an old god from the gnarled hands and grey hairs, that was seated and slumped slightly that they all kept to below despite his clear disinterest in being so measured against. And then likewise she pointed to some of the other devotees who kept their eyes downcast but in constant look out for if they’d spoken too loud or interrupted a god’s voice. “I mean, the power is nice and all, but I miss the irreverence of the Irish sometimes.”

“Oh, but don’t you think we deserve subservience?” The chirped voice sprang up on Jo’s other side, and jerking to the side, bumping into the grinning trickster, Jo looked surprised at the young looking woman beside her with a head full of thick curls and wide almond shaped eyes. Her pink dress matched the tones of Erzulie’s herself, and Jo blinked in surprise to see it - having figured the goddess would’ve wanted to be the only one in the color on her special day. “Hi! I’m Filomez, you must be Joanna Harvelle.” There was a second before the girl seemingly broke all patterns of the other pagans and moved forward to tug Jo into a tight hug. “Erzulie’s told me so much about you! I look forward to seeing your devotional later.”

“You’ll be partaking?” The rumbled words from the Baron were less surprising this time as Jo gave a few pats to the young woman’s back before the shorter goddess - one of the only ones near Jo’s own height - pulled back. “So that is the surprise, hmm.”

Jo gave a shrug of her shoulder as she shifted a little, uncertain if she should speak more or not as Malice seemed to jump in making up some story about an entire secret room of devotees that were due to arrive and bolster the beauty goddess’ powers to outshine everyone else in the space. Filomez nodded along, agreeing repeatedly and eyes wide and happy as she spoke about her ‘big sister’ having promised something spectacular. Jo’s stomach felt slightly queasy as she listened, finishing her drink slowly as she shrunk in on herself. It was pressure, and pressure on her she could tell, even if there was any sort of joke that it might not.

Looking around the space, she noted other gods and goddesses having arrived, and especially a beautiful woman in a bright yellow dress that almost outshone against Erzulie’s own glorious gown. Jo frowned noting it, looking around the courtyard for a moment and noting how that goddess seemed to stand out alongside Erzulie. All the others, while dressed ostentatiously and clearly in rich and vibrant colors, were not eye-catching and attention seeking in a way like the newly arrived goddess was. Filomez wore a soft baby pink dress that draped around her to show off her slim figure but it didn’t scream for attention, likewise Baron and Bridgette were matched in black and red clothes that sucked the light from around them but still didn’t draw attention to them over anyone else. Malice’s bright orange jumpsuit might have stood out anywhere else, but seemed considered and paired back in this crowd somehow. But the newly arrived goddess stood out, and in a way that, as Jo flicked a glance towards the centre of the room where Erzulie and her husbands sat to see the glare upon her goddess’ face, was inappropriate.

“Look what the cat dragged in-” “Don’t you mean ‘look out for the cat fight’, Malis?” “Same thing, Baron.”

Jo frowned slightly, attention drawn back to the group she stood near to notice the glare being delivered towards the newcomer from Filomez, and blinked a few times at noticing how the younger looking woman’s face had shifted. It was something she’d seen on Erzulie’s before, the shifting of which facet took control but without the entire change of hair style like the first time Jo’d met the goddess of women. “So, uh, who’s that?”

“Anaisa Pye. She thinks she’s better than my dearest sister.” Filomez spoke, voice harsh and gravelly to the exact opposite that it had been sweet and light before, and it wasn’t until a meaty hand landed on Jo’s head that she realised she’d been waiting for the goddess to speak some more.

Jerking in surprise, she looked up towards the person who’d interrupted to see the impassive looking face of Erzulie’s third husband, Ogoun, looking back at her. “You need to come with me.” The man’s voice was still so quiet, and after a moment he removed his hand and turned back towards the dais and started to walk without waiting for her.

Glancing back to the assorted gods she’d stood with, Jo was unsurprised to see Ti Malice’s eyes glittering with mischief as he opened his mouth to suggest she stay where she was. The other three were less clearly unbothered by the massive warrior god’s arrival and departure, and after raising a quick brow, Jo turned back towards the centre and headed towards her goddess. After all, if she was being summoned, it would be to pray; and then she’d likely be able to head home before any kind of troubles could start if the change in atmosphere she’d noticed since the goddess Anaisa Pye’s arrival spelt.

As she reached the dais, Jo was surprised to notice that the newly arrived goddess was standing before Erzulie herself, cocky smile to her face. “Why, Erzulie, old girl. How lovely to see you today! I hope you’ve not broken your back putting this all on, I wouldn’t want you straining anything.”

“Anaisa, you actually managed to get out of bed for once!” Erzulie replied snippily, eyes focused like a cat on it’s prey. “Tell me, did you make sure to get all the prayers for the year in before this? I mean, that’s the only way you’d get the energy to even make it here.”

“You underestimate my followers, as always. But I suppose you can’t have quite so devoted worshippers as the rest of us who fulfil their needs better, Erzie.” “Better? Oh, you mean by having so few calls that you’ve the time for all, what, three people who ever think to ask you for help, Annie?” “They can’t be all so desperate as to have to ask for yours, you know.”

Jo had to bite down on a smirk watching the two goddesses at each other’s throats as she waited patiently a few steps away. It wasn’t surprising to find that not all gods could stand one another, the animosity reminding her of the Irish couple she’d been exposed to - but without the underlying sexual tension, which she had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing thinking at that comparison.

She must have made a noise though, as Jo found herself with the attention of both goddesses upon her then, and shrinking back a step Jo scowled at the one closest to hers remark. “Oh, what a beautiful dress. I do so love yellow. Are you one of mine, human?”

“Anaisa, that is my follower.” Erzulie’s words were hissed out and sharp, eyes just as cutting as she glared towards the other goddess. “My husband had fetched her for me, Joanna, my darling girl, come sit. We’ll get to your gift after the others.” Jo frowned for a second as she realised that her patron hadn’t dropped her glare from the other goddess’ face yet and yet pointed towards a spot for Jo to sit. Her frown disappeared to realise that she was pointing at the seat that Ogoun had been sitting in before instead of a cushion on the floor, and glancing up, Jo noticed that the tall warrior was stood behind the chair instead. “Quickly, my flower, before the stench of some uncivilised upstart goddess gets caught entirely in my nose.”

“Oh you-” Anaisa sneered back for a second, glaring towards the goddess of the day for a moment, before she turned to stalk off to the side as Jo sat down and Erzulie stood in the same moment to draw the attention of the crowd.

That wasn’t hard for the goddess though. She barely needed to raise her voice to silence all the murmuring of the gods around the space, hands thrown wide and shimmering small golden light sparks around the space where her chains and bracelets and rings caught the sunlight. Erzulie clearly intended to make a point of this all. “Everyone! Thank you all for joining me today on such an important date.” Her voice was sweet and warm, but the underlying current of power that ran through it reminded Jo of her other facet - the fierce, blood thirtsty side that gave the power to the downtrodden to rise up. “I look forward to our next gathering for the next feast day with glee, but before that can happen, so to must todays rituals. My love, the first?”

Jo was unsurprised to see that Damballah was the husband to step forward and beckon to the first of those humans here to give over a ritual or gift to the goddess. What did surprise Jo was to witness how those who were so drawn into this religion and practices gave their thanks to a deity right in front of them. She knew, of course, how the usual practices went and was not surprised to see a goat’s blood spilled at one point or, given the goddess in question, bottles and bottles of perfume poured out into vessels before the worshiper would spill drops of their own blood in as well. She was surprised however to witness how with each prayer or sacrifice that the goddess seated on the throne beside her would glow faintly, and that each devotee was granted the permission to approach the dais and kiss the goddess’ feet before being rewarded with a kiss to the crown of their heads. It was something strange to see the looks of wonder and awe on each of the worshipers faces as they genuflected over and over as they retreated after each of their provisions; that such a small symbol, from a goddess that Jo saw more as a quirky aunt that pinched her cheeks than a deity, meant so much to these people. Jo even watched with eyes wide as the practitioner who introduced her to the idea of drawing from the voodoo gods was there and gave her own thanks. Jo was more surprised to see the look of absolute astonishment and wonder when the other saw her seated there. That look would haunt her for a while.

As the last person bowed and scurried back from the dais, Jo was unsurprised to see a hand held out to her from the god standing behind her. Ogoun helped her to her feet, even though Jo raised a brow at the sheer idea she might have needed the help, and walked her to the same spot that the others had stood to put forth their sacrifices.

Jo waited a second after he’d let her hand go and moved to take the seat that she had vacated to look about uncertainly. It was all well and good to pray, and she would easily, but after witnessing the others it felt a little anticlimactic, especially since she clearly held far less belief than the others.

“Um…” She shifted her weight awkwardly, weighing up the options. “I, uh-” Looking around, Jo could see a few gods shifting their own weight and twisting to mumble to one another. Obviously laughing at the lost little girl, and likewise laughing at Erzulie who stared down at her impassively. There was a moment as a dark brow quirked at her, before Jo glanced around again before letting out a quiet noise of approval as she spotted something she could contribute. Approaching the closest table, Jo pulled a lit candle from the centrepiece before moving back before the altar - candle still aflame and the wax dripping down one side of the candle to the floor. It took barely a moment to pull one of the blood-dipped daggers she had strapped to her legs to start the carvings that she knew off by heart at this point, even as she felt her cheeks flushing brightly at the laughter and murmurs she could hear from those around her at that. As she finished the last of the swirling curls of the heart design for the goddess before her, Jo raised an eyebrow back at the other before setting it down.

There didn’t seem to be anything for a moment before Erzulie gestured towards the flame with her hand and Jo gave a quiet sigh. Kneeling down, she pressed the edge of her blade to her thumb before holding her dripping finger over the flame itself. Pressing on the wound gently with her other hand until a enough drops of blood had fallen to extinguish the flame, Jo let out a gasp as she noticed the light in the room change from the overhead shadows of the sun to something shining and golden before her. Looking up, it wasn’t just her clearly surprised to see the amount of light shining off the goddess. Erzulie sat smiling wide, toothy and pleased, as her skin seemed to almost glow golden like her necklaces and chains, and her hair likewise shone golden. The shine didn’t go down completely like it had after a few seconds from the other sacrifices and rituals, it seemed to sink into the goddess’ skin but not leave as a whole, her whole being softly radiating light under her form as she smiled down towards the blonde.

Rising to her feet, Jo approached at the hand the goddess held out towards her, frowning slightly as she got before her. “I ain’t kissin’ your feet, just so you know.” Jo heard herself speak again, and scrunched her eyes up as she heard what she said, before letting out a sigh of relief at the laugh she got in response.

“Of course not, my flower,” Erzulie replied gently, standing from her seat for a moment like she hadn’t for the other followers before surprising her with a kiss to her forehead unlike anyone else. “You’ve been having a very good time lately, Joanna, I am so happy for you and that I can share in even a little bit of it. Thank you again, my sweet girl.”

Jo felt herself frowning slightly as the goddess pressed another kiss to her forehead before letting go of her, and stepping away, Jo was not surprised to see that those milling around were no longer looking at her at all but drawn entirely like moths to the flame towards the power exuding from the goddess behind her. It was expected. Gods of their kind, those with slowly diminishing follower bases but who still relied upon them would always be drawn towards such sparks of power, and especially the god or goddess that had it at the time.

Moving through the crowd moving forward was easy enough for her - no other mortals seemed to still be present, having left after each of their sacrifices or prayers themselves; and what was a mortal to a god? Shaking her head to herself as she wiped her dagger off on a nearby cloth napkin, Jo was actually surprised to hear a cough from behind her. Turning about, she kept a firm grip on her blade and the cloth as well as she stared cautiously towards the god before her.

“A pretty demonstration there, girl.” The god was surprisingly tall compared to when she’d seen him before, spindly though and his eyes seemed almost ancient as she looked up at him. The god hadn’t moved at all throughout the whole time she’d been there from the seat he’d been sunk into, his old body clearly reflective of his age and looking down at the cane and dog by his side, Jo let out a whoosh of air as she realised which of the loas had approached her. The only one old enough not to care for the frenzied and overly bouncy reaction of the goddess on her throne. Papa Legba stared down at her with eyes milky from cataracts but that seemed to see right through her. “I would leave if I were you, child. They say beware being a favorite, but also being known to be favorite can be even more dangerous. Especially amongst those starving for power.”

Jo frowned slightly, twisting the hand at her side holding the cloth napkin as the god’s dog shuffled forwards to sniff at her hand, before she moved to stroke the animal’s head for a moment. The god’s words felt kind in a way none of the other’s had - the trickster wanted to cause trouble; the god of the dead wanted to get under her skin and his wife was simply bored; the young goddess was bold but didn’t have enough to know what was right or wrong; the fiery competitor had said no kind words towards her that weren’t selfish in it’s own; the three husbands cared only for their competition and their wife; and while Erzulie favored her, that was always self serving and selfish as the goddess was. The old man’s words felt kind for the sake of kindness and compassion. The voice that spoke of more than just his own power nor the demands for power from humans, the communicator between the worlds of gods and the realms of humans, the one who still held a compassion for humans and their fleeting worlds.

As the dog snuffled at her hand and after she scratched under it’s chin, Jo glanced up ready to thank the other to note his warm eyes already nodding to her without her having to speak. There was another moment before the old god turned, picking his way back into the crowd, through which Jo could still see the golden goddess spinning and laughing and soaking in all the attention she craved so much. Drinking in being the centre of the world for a few brief hours in a way that left the blonde sighing in sympathy and pity as she turned to head home to true safety and where the world span from.

----

#jopov #cc #ca

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jacnaylor · 4 years ago

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my fam watches holby so, it’s gonna be on the tv whether i watch it or not. also there are a few characters i still like (though frankly, is it just kian? maybe). but yesterday when the show was taken off for football i felt a kind of relief. it just doesn’t make me happy to feel anxious over a fucking tv show.

i think a lot of it is due to cam’s storyline. idk if holby is doing it on purpose or if i’m the right person to talk about this. but this is what i was thinking today: it’s so anxiety inducing to see him getting away with hurting so many people like across the board and it’s always a select amount of people (you know who).

here is a list of people he’s hurt/is going after etc so far:

xav (poc, gaslighted/murdered)

donna (f, poc gaslighted/manipulated in time of grief)

jason (autistic, subordinate job title. manipulated/gaslighted)

nicky (f, poc manipulated/glaslighted/isolated/financial abuse(?))

kian (poc, tried to make a complaint in revenge)

chloe (f, ab*se/r*pe victim and with history of self h*rm, manipulated (inc in the aftermath of r*pe), lied to, gaslighted)

sklyar (f, undiagnosed mental health issues/depression?, subordinate job title. gaslighted, blamed for his mistake)

jeongsoo (poc, subordinate job title. is suspicious of cam and therefore in danger)

ange (f, higher job title. blamed for his deliberate violence against patient)

louis (trans m, poc. again, blamed for his deliberate violence and manipulated)

patient he murdered a few weeks ago whose name i can’t remember ( sorry)! but who was poc

evan (white male, r*pist. i hesitate to include this one because honestly who gives a shit about him but.)

people who have sussed cam out:

john barrowman

like obviously that last one isn’t true exactly. we know ange doesn’t like cam, chloe suspects him, jeongsoo suspects him and of course xav had him totally found out. but i think that whether directly or indirectly, his harm with the exception of evan, centers soley on women, poc and the one explicitly autistic character on the show. i honestly can’t tell whether this is just a product of who is working on those wards at any given time but. it seems to me that people are being purposely moved to aau to get them into cam’s orbit, then once he’s hurt them, they move on and vice versa. (donna has now moved to keller, chloe is usually on darwin but is forced to aau when cam wants to hurt her, the f1′s started on darwin but conveniently rotated to auu to put them in cam’s sights, etc etc) also there’s a new famele nurse who’s introduction seems already focused on cam

idk man. im not poc so maybe i’m not the person to talk about this but. it puts a bad taste in my mouth because it’s almost always him going after people who are less likely to believed. and ok, ok, it’s fictional. he’s a villain, of course he has to do villainous things. but over such an extended period of time? the only people above him he’s gone after were chloe (at the time), kian and ange and like. again. less likely to believed as woman and poc. it just feels like they’re choosing these people to prolong the story. i know they don’t have many stories during covid but this is just so depressing at this point that i don’t want to watch it anymore.

Also sidenote: i would love for someone, anyone, to take him down. but a lot of people - myself included! - can be guilty of wishing it were their fave who does it. Jac, Hanssen or even Serena (though obvs two are not in the show now.) And im like. it can’t be them. it just can’t. it needs to be someone on the bloody list you know. we can’t have the most powerful white characters coming in to save the day when they haven’t been effected by what he’s done the same way the others have. this is just my opinion and im not trying to like, categorize according to what subgroups someone fits in or comparing their traumas im just saying......why don’t we automatically wish for it to be donna or nicky or someone?

EDIT: i am of course aware that Hanssen and Jac both present as being autistic and suffer from depression and mental health issues, jac is an abuse victim and of course hanssen is jewish. and of course, serena is lgbtq. i’m not trying to ignore that but even with these stories they are considered fan favourites and also have some of the highest positions in the hospital. this is why i think to have them come in and fix the issues would be a disservice to cam’s victims. im sorry if i haven’t phrased this post right or if i’ve dismissed something within the story thats important. mostly im just trying to get across how traumatizing im finding cam’s storyline.

#holby city #jess watches holby city #idk what im on about #someone shut me up #why do i get involved with this stuff #think im just figuring out how to articulate how im feeling abt the show rn

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therealuniverse · 5 years ago

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NEPTUNE

Named after the Roman god of the seas due to its uniform blue coloring, Neptune is the 8th and furthest planet from the Sun; after the reclassification of Pluto in 2006, Neptune is also the furthest planet from the Sun in our solar system.

Neptune was discovered separately on September 23, 1846 by Johann Gottfried Galle and Heinrich Louis d’Arrest based upon independent calculations by John Couch Adams and Urbain Jean Joseph Le Verrier stemming from irregularities in the orbit of Uranus. Interestingly, more than a little luck was involved as the calculations were later shown to be fairly inaccurate, and if the search had been conducted just a couple of years earlier or later, then Neptune would have been nowhere near where they predicted. Galileo had also observed the planet in 1613 while it was very near Jupiter, but he thought it was a star since he could not accurately calculate its motion due to only being able to see it on 2 nights.

At about 30 AU from the Sun, most of what we know about our most distant neighbor comes from Voyager 2 being the only craft to ever do a flyby of the planet. In fact, it is so distant from the Sun that 2011 marked the first full Neptunian year since it’s discovery. From January 1979 until February 11, 1999, it was also further from the Sun than Pluto. Despite the crossing of their paths, however, the two bodies will never collide. They have an orbital resonance of 3:2, meaning that Neptune makes 3 rotations for every two of Pluto’s. Additionally, the significantly different inclination of their orbits means that their paths never directly cross, and the closest the two ever come to each other is about 17 AU.

Like Uranus, Neptune’s interior is believed to be primarily composed of a newly discovered, exotic form of water ice and rock, with about 15% hydrogen and small amounts of helium. The movement of electro-conducive material in this part of the planet is believed to contribute to Neptune’s magnetosphere being off-axis by about 47 degrees. Unlike Saturn and Jupiter, it is believed that this inner core area is fairly uniform instead of being layered. It is also speculated that there is an Earth-sized core of rock at its center due to the fact that, despite being slightly smaller in circumference than Uranus (3.86 times the size of Earth as opposed to Uranus’ 3.98) it is significantly higher in mass (17.15 times the size of the Earth as opposed to Uranus’ 14.54 times.) The planet also emits about twice as much energy as it receives from the sun, so there must be an internal heat source, much like Jupiter and Saturn. The atmosphere is mostly hydrogen and helium. Small amounts of methane, as well as some form of unidentified chromophore, give the planet its rich blue color.

Neptune’s atmosphere is very active. The fastest winds in the solar system whip around it at speeds of 2000kph. During Voyager 2’s 1989 flyby, there was a Great Dark Spot in the Southern hemisphere similar to Jupiter’s Great Red Spot. The Great Dark Spot was about ½ the size of Jupiter’s, and travelled westward around the planet at about 300m/s. In 1994, it was discovered that the spot had disappeared, but other spots have since appeared and faded, indicating rapid atmospheric changes, possibly due to temperature differences between the top and bottom of cloud layers. There is also a small white cloud known as “The Scooter” that circles the planet every 16 hours or so, but nothing is actually known about what causes this cloud.

Like the other gas giants, in addition to having several moons—the current count is at 13—there are rings around Neptune. These rings have been named after individuals associated with the planet’s discovery; from innermost to outermost, they are: Galle, Leverrier, with two extensions named Lassell and Arago, one unnamed ring the shares its orbit with the moon Galatea, and Adams, which has a twisted appearance and is broken into three prominent arcs named Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity.

The image below is the most commonly used photo of the planet and was taken by Voyager 2 on its approach in 1989.

-JW

For further reading, go to:

http://solarsystem.nasa.gov/planets/profile.cfm?Object=Neptune

http://pds.jpl.nasa.gov/planets/choices/neptune1.htm

http://nineplanets.org/neptune.html

Image courtesy of NASA

#neptune #planet #voyager 2 #science #gas giant #planetary science #great dark spot #the scooter #history #the universe #the real universe

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trevorbarre · 4 years ago

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So, Do You Remember the 80s ‘Jazz Revival’?

Prodded by my memories of Rip, Rig & Panic, (the group, not the Roland Kirk number), I’m taken back to the UK ‘Jazz Revival’ of (roughly) the 1985-1990 vintage. For a brief period, in London at least, jazz music experienced its very own Retromania, and seemed to as cool/hot and hip/hep as it imagined itself to have been back in the ur-bebop and hard bop days. Much has been written about the ultimately conservative nature of this revival, with its memorialising of ‘sharp men in even smarter Italian suits’ (anyone remember The Tommy Chase Quartet?) and the Blue Note, ‘instant classic’ photo artistry of Francis Wolff, but which ultimately served to the disadvantage of the more experimental and ‘risky’. (It’s easy to lay the blame at the feet of Wynton Marsalis, but the seeds were always there for absolutism, from the very start, with influential USA critics like Albert Murray and Stanley Crouch, early neo-cons who increasingly decried the avant garde and post-Free Jazz experimentalism.) For me, this era coincided with my own reintroduction to jazz music, a process which began around 1981, and represented a return, this time permanent, to a music that I had first explored in the early/mid-70s, but which had been sidelined by punk and post-punk from 1976-1981. Bands like Rip, Rig & Panic served as a gateway back to jazz (and beyond), and the New Musical Express (NME) helped me in this, through such writers as Richard Cook, Andy Gill and Graham Lock. So this ‘revival’ was at once both personally-experienced and externally-informed.

There are a few literary signifiers that help to sum up these times, times which, in retrospect, seem to have been somewhat of a triumph of style over substance? (The 80s also arguably marked a significant lessening in quality in rock and reggae music, and we still await a definitive account of this entire troubled decade.) Have a look at the development of The Wire typography, once it became a monthly rather than a quarterly publication (i.e.from 1984 onward): The Face pointed the way forward, an alternative to the ‘inkies’ of the NME, Melody Maker and Sounds, and The Wire in turn fully bought into the aim of more stylish presentational values, with the increased involvement of designers and ‘creatives’, as what clothes the musicians wore seemed to become as important as what they played. The Wire remained both a pleasure to read (featuring, despite everything, mostly more ‘left field’ jazz players, with even free improvisers also in evidence), and also to look at (the front covers were events in themselves, as they still remain). The bubble, however, had burst by 1990, and the covers began to feature the likes of Michael Jackson, Van Morrison and Jimi Hendrix, a reflection of the decreasing influence of ‘pure’ jazz, and an inexorable move towards what ‘hip’ young people were actually listening to, once they found out that Art Blakey and Max Roach were not, in actual fact, “great to dance to”. Electronic dance music soon became the default option of the tragically hip, an option which The Wire was soon to take up, especially after Drum and Bass / ’Jungle’ upped the avant stakes. (Main’s Hydra-Calm, from what I remember, won its 1992 ‘Album of the Year’, for an example of the magazine’s ‘new direction’).

In 1986, three of the older older NME writer ‘purists’, Roy Carr, Brian Case and Fred Dellar, put out ‘The Hip: Hipsters, Jazz and The Beat Generation’, which was a self-explanatory coffee table book, and exactly suited the whole ‘jazz revival’ shtick, “Hip has shifted more shades than any other philosophy throughout history”, proclaimed the back cover, rather vaguely, but which at least demonstrated that the authors didn’t take it all entirely seriously, unlike Robin Tomens. The latter published (only one printing, I must assume, in 2000?) his ‘Points of Departure: Essays on Modern Jazz’, a rather ambitious title for what was essentially a collection of what would now be called blogs, trying to demonstrate how hip and jazz-anointed he was (he doesn’t cover free improv, however). Although the book is often cringeworthy, in its attempts to glorify its author’s second-hand insights into various examples of the post-WW2 jazz modernists (mostly American), I have always had a sneaking fondness for it, as it in many ways mirrors my own tentative paths of discovery in the same time-period (1982-1988), alluding to a shared gaucheness, as we both tried to negotiate the various entries into the music, at points at which it all seemed insurmountable. His accounts of shopping in Ray’s Jazz Shop and Mole Jazz are priceless, and his reflections are basically those of a fan first, writer second, a position to which I can completely relate.

I’m no-one to talk: I sent in my own list to The Wire of ‘10 albums that I am currently listening to’, a regular spot in the magazine at the time (to show off my listening tastes, basically and embarrassingly, in retrospect), and which appeared in a 1986 edition of the magazine, from what I can recall (it soon, very correctly, ditched the whole daft concept). It seems that I wanted my own ‘brilliant corner’, however tiny and naff (to use a very 80s word), in the ‘revival’! What put me off, eventually, was the almost inevitably cosy, ‘closed shop’ mentality that most cliques and ‘scenes’ tend to engender (and which Tomens, for one, appeared to love), but which quickly prove to be so transient and gone-so-soon.

We can now, thankfully, postulate another ‘revival’, one centered on Cafe Oto since its opening in 2008/9, one that appears not to seek validation in places like The Wag Club. (Oto’s various presentations usually transcend ‘jazz’, or, at the very least, transmutes it, and transmutation should be something that jazz has always welcomed?) With more musicians of colour and more female improvisers, this updated ‘scene with no name’ seemed built to last, at least until Covid-19 put it all on hold (at least in the area of live, in-person performance). One of the positives of the 80s scene was the clearly increased involvement of women and black musicians: this was undoubtedly an incremental and undoubted fact by 2020, exemplified, for me at least, in the line-up, at Oto in 2018, of a group led by Louis Moholo, and featuring Jason Yarde, Shabaka Hutchings, Alexander Hawkins and John Edwards. No women in this band though...Doh!! ( If I remember correctly,I think they called themselves ‘Five Blokes’!)

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eopederson · 4 years ago

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South Lawn of the White House, Washington, DC, Summer 1972. 

This autumn I will have had close association with the Washington, DC area for a half century. Beginning with this posting and continuing for awhile, each morning I am going to post a scene in the city taken in my early years of residence.

 In the early 1970s Washington was, to quote John F. Kennedy, “a city of southern efficiency and northern charm.” Good restaurants were few and far between, and “culture” was mostly imported from elsewhere or enjoyed there thanks to the Metroliners to New York. In fairness, the visual arts were strong with painters like Kenneth Noland, Morris Louis and others forming what came to be called the Washington Color School, and Arena Stage was a theatrical force. Large projects were underway - the Metro subway system, expansion of the Smithsonian facilities, and the Kennedy Center among others. The city was on the cusp of becoming a major metropolis and not just a sleepy backwater where politicians hid out.

 In some ways the ominous feeling of 1970, the year I moved to DC, was eerily similar to that in 2020, though the present crisis is larger in scope than the “long national nightmare” under Richard Milhouse - “tricky dickie” - Nixon. The Watergate break-in was still almost two years away (it had occurred just before the picture above was taken), but tricky dickie’s contempt for the Constitution and the laws of the land were already evident. A constitutional crisis was brewing, and the Viet Nam War was consuming lives and wealth at an accelerating pace. The city of the 1970s was an exciting, and sometimes an uncomfortable, place to be. It was also very different in appearance and atmosphere from the city, the metropolitan area, today.

#government buildings #white house #culture #washington dc #1972 #photographers on tumblr

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cincinnatusvirtue · 4 years ago

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Eighty Years War (1568-1648): Dutch Revolt and the establishment of a new republic...

The Low Countries in Europe have gone through a number of iterations over the years but one of the most seismic changes in its history took place over the course of the 16th & 17th centuries. One that would result in the establishment of modern nation that despite it small size would go onto have a far reaching impact on world events...

Background:

-The Low Countries, modern day Netherlands, Belgium & Luxembourg were since the Middle Ages known by many names but much of the region was called Flanders, or divided into multiple provinces such as Brabant and Holland among others, there was a mix of people who practiced Catholicism, particularly in the south as well as Protestants in the wake of Martin Luther & John John Calvin, both of whom would have a lasting effect on the peoples of the Low Countries but mostly in the north The most numerous group in the Low Countries was a Germanic people that became known as the Dutch.

-Its hard to pinpoint an exact consolidation of a modern Dutch identity as the Seventeen Provinces as they became known consisted of the Dutch and French speakers known as Walloons as well. Nevertheless, by the 15th century, the provinces had definitely developed a distinct culture. One that favored commerce, practiced a degree of relative tolerance and valued some level of independence or local autonomy. This was recognized by Mary Valois-Burgundy, Duchess of Burgundy in 1477 with the so called Great Privilege decree.

-The decree in effect restored previous held levels of communal rights at the local level in the various Low Country provinces. The Burgundians (Eastern France) had attempted to centralize like France had and this had lead to resentment. Mary signed the charter for the Great Privilege against her own initials wishes and more as a matter of practicality, it also recognized the right of the States-General, an assembly-legislative body which made decisions for the Low Countries many provinces, to meet once more. This embodied the Dutch desire for autonomy.

-Mary had married, Maximillian I Holy Roman Emperor & Archduke of Austria and member of the Hapsburg dynasty. By rights of this marriage, the Low Countries became Hapsburg administered territories. This was subsequently passed down to their heir Philip I of Castile, the Spanish Kingdom that united Spain with the Hapsburg lands. Philip had married Joanna of Castile and together cemented the rule of their mutual territories. Finally their son, Charles V, became Holy Roman Emperor & King of Spain by 1519 and with him he came to rule global Spanish Empire including vast European holdings, including the realm of his and his father’s birth, the Low Countries.

-Charles considered the Low Countries and important component of his empire, they were for sentimental reasons a familial possession and the place of his birth and childhood. More broadly, they served as an important center of trade and industry, commerce being very centrifugal to the identity of the Low Countries, an ethos that persists to the modern day. His own interactions as ruler were to keep an element of toleration towards their autonomy while also putting down rebellions namely in Frisia.

-Charles’s son and heir in Spain was Philip II. The Holy Roman Empire’s imperial position was an electoral throne, more of a ceremonial first among equals position but not an emperor that held direct rule over the various fiefdoms and principalities of Central Europe. Nevertheless, Spain had its own vast land holdings throughout the world and Philip ruled it at its true zenith. One of main aims in foreign policy were to promote Catholicism in the empire and project Catholic and by extension Spanish power throughout the world and in Europe especially with the development of a rivalry with Protestant England.

-Philip also inherited the Low Countries and his devout Catholicism and lack of growing up in the Low Countries started to put him at odds with a number of his subjects there. It wasn’t an even split as there were many Catholics and and Protestants in the region who despite Philip’s increased heavy handedness in rule that remained loyal to him.

-Philip reverted to a more centralized form of rule, he increased taxation as he needed to fund his wars with England and other powers in Europe, he also began to persecute his Protestant subjects, mainly Dutch. His appointees also based in Spain ruled with increasingly draconian measures such as executions of Dutch & Flemish (Dutch speakers in Flanders) alienated the local nobility. Protestant clergy began preaching anti-Catholic & anti-Spanish rhetoric as the mostly Dutch speaking Protestants felt Philip was surrounded by evil advisors, ones who sought to remove their privileges, which they increasingly viewed as their rights, local based autonomy, with rights to assembly, law making and tolerance of their religion.

War:

- 1568 saw open rebellion and Philip ordered his enforcer, the 3rd Duke of Alba, Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, also known as the Iron Duke to serve as governor of the Netherlands. His enforcement was very pro-Catholic/Spanish and epitomized Spanish Hapsburg’s determination to maintain order, he had overseen trials and executions of those deemed seditious and imposed heavier new taxes. This resulted in one of the Dutch nobles, William the Silent, Prince of Orange becoming the de-facto leader of the rebellion.

-William served not only as Prince of Orange but Stadtholder of the Provinces of Holland, Zeeland & Utrecht. Previously, he worked side by side with the Hapsburgs including Philip’s sister, Margaret of Parma when tolerance and decentralization was more the norm. As Philip changed tack towards more central authority a rift with William developed.

-Stadtholder originally meant a sort of local governor or steward, a caretaker position but in time would come to mean, more of a head of state, that would traditionally be associated with the House of Orange but always was a loosely defined role. More than anything it served symbolically as the state’s caretaker in terms of security. Real legal power rested with the States General which held legislative power over the republic in which they hoped to found, one made up of several united provinces.

-William and his brother, Louis of Nassau with support from French Huguenots (Protestants) invaded portions of the northern Netherlands where they hoped support would be strongest. The rebellion scored some success but it was severely tested at the Battle of Jemmingen in July 1568, where the Duke of Alba defeated the Dutch rebels handedly but Louis escaped. There was a statue made by the Catholic supporters of Spanish rule made in Alba’s likeness out of bronze from the captured Dutch cannons (torn down in 1577).

-What followed was a series of alternating gains, negotiations, and renewing hostilities that would come to define the conflict. From 1572 onward, William attempted usually through hit and run attacks to undermine Spanish rule. He also needed to balance the competing interests of localities and their religious representation some Dutch Catholics also supported the rebellion along with Protestants and others didn’t, William needed supporters of the revolt to unite for it to work. He tried effect religious unity and freedom manifest in his 1576 Pacification of Ghent declaration which rallied behind removal of Spanish troops but still failed to get support of religious tolerance. The conflict was at some level devolving into a sectarian conflict as much as a nationalist one. Nonetheless, a further defined Dutch identity was forged as a result and William would be declared in historical memory as “Father of the Fatherland.”

-John of Austria became the new governor of the Netherlands and in 1577 signed the Perpetual Edict which seemed to show compromise on the Spanish government’s part. It would allow for Spanish troops to be removed from the Low Countries and renewed assemblage of the States General in exchange for a mutual recognition of the sovereignty of the king & promotion of Catholicism. John however soon went back on this promise and attacked another area of Dutch resistance in Namur. This in turn inflamed the spread of the rebellion.

-1579 saw the Union of Utrecht signed between Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Guelders, Brabant. Flanders & other areas and formed the sort of constitutional basis for the Dutch Republic whose goals beforehand weren’t so concretely defined. This union served as a outright declaration of independence, forcing a united front no longer determined to wage war for compromise on rights with the king and within the context of remaining part of Spain’s empire, true independence was the goal now. The Act of Abjuration further solidified this goal in 1581 accusing Philip of neglecting his sovereign responsibilities to his Dutch subjects and was therefore no longer fit to be their king.

-Philip declared William an outlaw and the Act of Abjuration renewed Spanish efforts to put down the rebellion, newer and larger efforts were being undertaken to suppress the rebellion.

-The Dutch got foreign help in finances from England and materials support from France both of which wanted to upset the balance of power in Europe which disproportionately sat with Spain. By 1585, the northern provinces found themselves in a de-facto state of independence with became mostly centered around Dutch speaking Protestants with Catholic Dutch virtually all converting in the coming decades while the southern provinces still had a large Spanish garrison & remained a Catholic stronghold.

-In time, the Netherlands converted into a side theater for the French Wars of Religion. This in turn allowed the Dutch to continue their war efforts and in the north practice their flourishing de-facto independence.

-The nascent Dutch Republic like the republics of Italy (Venice & Genoa) was very much a maritime power. The northern provinces were able to blockade the estuary going to Spanish held Antwerp which in turn built up Amsterdam’s economy as mercantile community thrived and eventually a stock exchange was also forged. While their independence wasn’t formal, it was increasingly becoming a reality for the northern provinces and the practice of a successful and capitalist economy built on trade was evidence of this.

-The Dutch built up their navy to protect their trade and a thriving privateer industry developed where Dutch government sponsored pirates could raid Spanish ships to aid in the sting of ongoing rebellion. These privateers operated in the North Sea, English Channel and even in the Mediterranean, often basing themselves in North Africa and developed cultural and economic trade with the Barbary States who held religious and political grievances against Spain. The Dutch navy would prove quite effective in draining Spanish resources

- In 1602, the government sponsored Dutch East India Company was founded and established colonial possessions in Africa, India and Indonesia (Dutch East Indies) which controlled the textile, spices and slave trade from these regions. The Dutch West India Company followed in 1621 with settlement in the Americas namely in North America (modern day United States, especially New York City).

-Dutch trade flourished and the military proved powerful, thanks to Spain’s ongoing commitment to fighting wars on multiple fronts against multiple powers and continuously meant that the Low Countries were increasingly made into a side show-backseat for Spanish foreign policy overall. The Dutch did everything they could do drain Spain of her ability to fight, becoming a proverbial headache but not one the obstinance of Spain would be willing to recognize.

-Domestically, tranquil life in the de-facto independent Netherlands was captured in their art too. As life in the canal lined cities of Amsterdam, Haarlem, Rotterdam and elsewhere was increasingly captured during the Eighty Years War period by a series of masterful painters and sculptors like Rembrandt, Vermeer & De Keyser among others. Dutch architecture began to take on unique shape as well reflected in the Dutch cities with their preference for less ostentatious but stately brick building homes.

-This era of flourishing art, culture, economics and military power along with colonial projection became known as the Dutch Golden Age (circa 1581-1672) and the establishment of the Dutch Empire.

-1609 saw the Anglo-Franco brokered ceasefire and Twelve Years Truce which contributed largely to the Dutch Golden Age’s growing.

-By the 1620′s conflict had picked up in part of the greater European conflict of the Thirty Years War (1618-1648) which started with Catholic and Protestant internal conflict within the Holy Roman Empire but soon dragged in all other European powers including the officially unresolved conflict between Spain & the Netherlands.

-Attempts at peace had been made but the religious obstacle of religious freedom for Catholics in the Protestant northern Netherlands and likewise religious freedom for Protestants in the Spanish controlled south were creating an impasse. Additionally, issues over international trade routes and the seizures of Spanish-Portuguese colonies added to the tensions.

-With the resumption of war, Spain invaded the north once more but was reversed. Furthermore, the Dutch took Brabant’s major city, Den Bosch.

-The Dutch countered into the south but failed to take its major cities of Brussels & Antwerp. Furthermore, the heavily Catholic south was brought up with a relative loyalty to Spain and distrust of Dutch Protestants in the ensuing years of peace thanks to Spanish & Catholic education & propaganda. The Dutch found themselves increasingly reconciled to the notion that the southern Netherlands were likely to remain separate but they too remained obstinate in the goal of independence for all.

-The Dutch continued to vie for control of Spanish colonies in the Americas, Asia & Africa through its union state Portugal’s possessions mostly rather than direct Spanish possessions.

-1639 saw the Battle of the Downs in the English Channel which stopped a 20,000 strong army being escorted by a new Spanish Armada and saved the north from direct invasion. It also definitively ended Spain’s naval mastery of the global seas, something almost unrivaled since 1492. Now Spain’s fleet was bypassed by Dutch, English and French navies.

-1648 saw the official end of the Eighty Years War, largely thanks to French intervention which would split the southern portion of the Low Countries between them and the Dutch. However, the end result was de-jure independence from the Spanish, in the Treaty of Munster, part of the Peace of Westphalia which negotiated the new peace between the many nations of Europe involved in the Thirty Years War, establishing a new geopolitical balance.

Aftermath:

-Spain’s position was greatly weakened by the Eighty Years/Thirty Years War, repeatedly bankrupted in the maintenance of its empire and constant wars. The Dutch Revolt turned into an almost intractable conflict that drained its resources and at times it seemed obstinate pride prolonged Spain’s ultimately unrealistic goals of total control. Dutch independence was achieved through recurring foreign support, popular support among parts of the Dutch populace and a hit and run strategy that caused attrition against Spain while only facing a limited Spanish focus of attention at times.

-The Dutch were to enjoy the fruits of their independence only briefly however, as war with their former de-facto allies in England and alternatively France would result in the coming years, with the English over mercantile & trading rights in colonies and with the rise of Louis XIV in France who sought control of the balance of power in Europe, like the Spanish using a Catholic religious-political outlook to fuel more wars. The Dutch resented French control of the Southern Netherlands and in their desire to unite all the Low Countries, would come to partake in the many wars of the coming decades.

-The Dutch Republic or Republic of the Seven United Netherlands (Guelders, Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Overijssel, Frisia & Groningen) consolidated a modern Dutch identity, it reflected a people’s ethos which survives culturally to varying degrees today with ideals of tolerance, commerce and relaxed regulations tempered by strong senses of independence & stern Calvinism. The Dutch Republic and the Dutch Revolt which gave birth to it would also give influence to Enlightenment era values in the 18th century. Most manifest in the ideals of capitalism, tolerance & challenging the divine rights of kings by the right of assembly and local representation. All these ideals would be further distilled on perhaps a grander scale in the formation of the United States of America a century and half after the Peace of Westphalia, further showcasing the Dutch’s outsized influence on the world...

#dutch republic #The Enlightenment #16th century #17th century #18th century #eighty years war #thirty years war #peace of westphalia #hapsburg #house of orange #vermeer #rembrandt #dutch #spanish #spanish empire #military history #netherlands #spain #flanders

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