#l: new utopia prison

[puckish-rogue-archive-deux]

Character Setting!

Send me “Character Setting!” to learn about my muse’s home! ( ACCEPTING )

Hey there, fools! It's me again, ya big boi Andre. And today we'll be briefly talking about the main two cities of the original series. Consider it a bit of an insight as to what your Muse may see if they ever find themselves in Bossu's neck of the woods.

Now let's start off with the birthplace of the 3rd Street Saints and the setting for the first two games; Stilwater, Michigan. And remember, that's with one 'L'! Originally depicted as a peninsula off the state of Michigan before turning into another island city, Stilwater is what I'd refer to as a more 'proper' city compared to the likes of Steelport—which we will be discussing shortly.

The city is made up of two major islands located on Lake Michigan (something which is more or less confirmed canon by NPC dialogue in SR2), its Northern island consisting of skyscrapers, museums, expensive shops and restaurants, the suburbs, basically what your out-of-touch family member thinks New York is like from any sanitized depiction in certain media. Its Southern half is distinctly more working to lower class, being the home of many different factories, dockyards, the city's resident red light district, and basically anything else you could imagine. The sole exception to this being the Saint's Row district, which had been gentrified to shit and has turned into a sparkling glass utopia; a far cry from its previous depiction as a lower income neighborhood with its lone church acting as the former hideout of the 3rd Street Saints.

Stilwater also happens to be the home of Mount Claflin, a large mountain that consists a forest, a lake, and many winding dirt paths. It's situated right in-between the Arena district and Stilwater University. Personally I like to imagine it as bigger than it's depicted in-game, but I think that's just a given since most fictional cities in video games aren't going to be 1:1 with actual places.

Two more points of interest are Stilwater's very own nuclear power plant and prison, both located on their own respective islands.

Now compared to Stilwater, Steelport was built much more—how would I say—loosely. Founded in 1827 by blue-collar industrialists, and located on Lake Erie (a personal hc of mine), Steelport is a much more heavily industrialized city that's home to many former steel mills, factories, refineries, practically anything you could think of that would've been used when the United States was at its peak in manufacturing. As a rust belt city, Steelport has fallen into economic failure as most of the country had begun to outsource its manufacturing jobs—thus leading to a majority of its buildings either being repurposed or straight up abandoned.

This led to the city being overtaken by the large criminal organization known as the Syndicate, who would use it as their flagship headquarters in managing their global operations. That was until they wound up pissing off the 3rd Street Saints, who would then demolish the Syndicate in its entirety and take over whatever assets they had left over.

As a city built with practically no zoning laws whatsoever (something that was brought up in a developer conference), you're likely to find factories situated closely to say places of residence, municipalities, schools, and so on. Steelport in general feels haphazardly planned, and there's no greater proof of that than its mish-mash of modern day glass towers and 21st century aesthetics, colliding against a mixture of art deco and gothic skyscrapers dotting the Downtown district, while the ghosts of the city's industrial past loom on the outskirts.

The in-game map is actually something I've been highly critical with as I personally believe it didn't fully explore the concept at all. Hence why I tend to use Steelport's concept art as reference when talking to RP partners of what their Muse can expect when visiting the city. A day and night piece can be seen below.

Steelport is considered a 'party city' by most its characters, as with the decline of the manufacturing industry in the United States, there was an obvious need to venture into other businesses in order to pump at least some kind of income into the city's lifeblood. The city is now a hot spot for all manner of clientele looking to indulge in whatever sort of vice they're into; whether that be sex, gambling, drugs, or perhaps something a little more upscale.

A notable monument of Steelport is its statue of the pseudo-legendary American folk hero known as Joe Magarac, located on an island just off its coast. Similar in vein to the Statue of Liberty, this statue is meant to act as both a representation and celebration of the city's humble industrial beginnings, to the point where it's depicted on the city's very own seal.

I think that's plenty of information for now on the two cities that the Boss happens to own. If I wind up getting any more of these asks in the future, I'll definitely go into further detail on certain things and possibly provide more hc's on say Steelport given my opinions on how it was done.

[justforbooks]

Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman review – a tribute to our better nature

The Dutch historian’s overview of debate around humanity’s core instincts has blind spots, but its optimism is invigorating

Although one of the most contested concepts in political philosophy, human nature is something on which most people seem to agree. By and large, according to Rutger Bregman in his new book Humankind, we have a rather pessimistic view – not of ourselves exactly, but of everyone else.

We see other people as selfish, untrustworthy and dangerous and therefore we behave towards them with defensiveness and suspicion. This was how the 17th-century philosopher Thomas Hobbes conceived our natural state to be, believing that all that stood between us and violent anarchy was a strong state and firm leadership.

But in following Hobbes, argues Bregman, we ensure that the negative view we have of human nature is reflected back at us. He instead puts his faith in Jean-Jacques Rousseau, the 18th-century French thinker, who famously declared that man was born free and it was civilisation – with its coercive powers, social classes and restrictive laws – that put him in chains.

Hobbes and Rousseau are seen as the two poles of the human nature argument and it’s no surprise that Bregman strongly sides with the Frenchman. He takes Rousseau’s intuition and paints a picture of a prelapsarian idyll in which, for the better part of 300,000 years, Homo sapiens lived a fulfilling life in harmony with nature and the community, bound only by the principles of humility and solidarity.

Then we discovered agriculture and for the next 10,000 years it was all property, war, greed and injustice. Whether or not this vision of pre-agrarian life is an accurate one – and certainly the anthropology and archaeology on which Bregman draws are open to interpretation – the Dutchman puts together a compelling argument that society has been built on a false premise.

Bregman, whose previous book was the equally optimistic Utopia for Realists, has a Gladwellian gift for sifting through academic reports and finding anecdotal jewels. And, like the Canadian populariser, he’s not afraid to take his audience on a digressive journey of discovery. Here, we visit the blitz, Lord of the Flies – both the novel and a very different real-life version – a Siberian fox farm, an infamous New York murder and a host of discredited psychological studies, including Stanley Milgram’s Yale shock machine and Philip Zimbardo’s Stanford prison experiment.

Along the way, he takes potshots at the big guns: Richard Dawkins, Jared Diamond and Steven Pinker. Yet despite the almost bewildering array of characters and information, Bregman never loses sight of his central thesis, that at root humans are “friendly, peaceful and healthy”.

It was abandoning our nomadic lifestyle and then domesticating animals, says Bregman, that brought about infectious diseases such as measles, smallpox, tuberculosis, syphilis, malaria, cholera and plague. This may be true, but what Bregman never really seems to get to grips with is that pathogens were not the only things that grew with agriculture – so did the number of humans.

It’s one thing to maintain friendly relations and a property-less mode of living when you’re 30 or 40 hunter-gatherers following the food. But life becomes a great deal more complex and knowledge far more extensive when there are settlements of many thousands.

“Civilisation has become synonymous with peace and progress and wilderness with war and decline,” writes Bregman. “In reality, for most of human existence, it was the other way around.”

Whereas traditional history depicts the collapse of civilisations as “dark ages” in which everything gets worse, modern scholars, he claims, see them more as a reprieve, in which the enslaved gain their freedom and culture flourishes. Like much else in this book, the truth is probably somewhere between the two stated positions.

In any case, the fear of civilisational collapse, Bregman believes, is unfounded. It’s the result of what the Dutch biologist Frans de Waal calls “veneer theory” – the idea that just below the surface, our bestial nature is waiting to break out. In reality, argues Bregman, when cities are subject to bombing campaigns or when a group of boys is shipwrecked on a remote island, what’s notable is the degree of cooperation and communal spirt that comes to the fore.

There’s a great deal of reassuring human decency to be taken from this bold and thought-provoking book and a wealth of evidence in support of the contention that the sense of who we are as a species has been deleteriously distorted. But it seems equally misleading to offer the false choice of Rousseau and Hobbes when, clearly, humanity encompasses both.

There will always be a battle between our altruistic and selfish instincts, our openness and our protectiveness – it is the very stuff of human drama. Still, if the devil has all the best tunes, it makes a welcome change to read such a sustained and enjoyable tribute to our better natures.

• Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman is published by Bloomsbury (£20).

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Nicole’s rambling: The Watch Dogs Problem

Hey, welcome to my TedX talk about one of the most ambitious games Ubisoft had ever released... And which, for most of the parts, flopped majestically - yet still has players who love it. One such player am I as well. (And I’m not coming back to the game because Raymond Kenney is my first VG crush, shut the hell up.)

I won't be dipping into the side activities (digital trips) and online mode, because I never clicked with it and I don't know much about these parts. And I don't wanna throw shit at the game because of something I don't know a single thing about. Here are my three biggest negatives in the game and the three biggest positives you should play it for.

Also: remember, this is my opinion and my opinion only. It's sure biased, non-professional, but I've played WD more than five times. FIVE. So it's not just blatant nitpicking, because, in its core, WD Is a game I love dearly.

@march-moon​, here you go! :)

Let’s sort out the negatives first so we can later praise the game for what it did well:

1. Predictable and dull AI of enemies (aka going John Wick mode).

Sure, the variety of said enemies is impressive, but... When you get a grenade launcher and some good shotgun, which you can do in the first hour of gameplay if you already know your way with the ctOS bank account system (LOOP IS WHERE THE MONEY'S AT), you're more or less untouchable for the rest of the game. Most conveniently, you're starting with a silenced gun and when you know around your way with the stealth system and focus, which slows time big time for those who might not know, you can clear out Rossi Fremont under two minutes. Why? Because the AI is just dumb and stupid most of the time.

Like, sure, the big-armed guys can be a pain in the ass for the first few encounters, but when you realize all you have to do is throw two grenades at them and fire as many bullets as you have at your disposal, they are dead immediately. And the same goes for the car chases. Until you unlock the almighty power of raising the bridges and blowing up the steampipes, these are just pain in the ass.

The first few ctOS scans and police chases, as well as the enemy chases, are fun. But when ctOS finds you after ten minutes of driving around like a mad man to dodge the shit, sending you off on a ten-minutes lasting chase which simply repeats itself. Let alone that you kill half of the city's population because you fuck up to turn your car.  

To close this point, it gets repetitive, especially with the gang hideouts fuckery.

2. Ubisoft lying not only about the game features, but also about the overall graphics.

This point kinda explains itself, doesn't it? It's a known fact that studios have tendencies to change their games/movies for marketing purposes - for example, Disney and Infinity War or Naughty Dog's 'The Last of Us (Part 2)'. But this being a usual marketing tactic doesn't mean that the consumer should keep their mouth shut when they don't agree with it.

Most noticeable Watch Dogs' fuck-up was an overall graphic downgrade, which, sure, is completely understandable when you have such a huge open-world game, but... Ubisoft showed you a potato mash and all you got was the potato (The biggest point that is made fun of are the trees - those who played the games know what I'm talking about.). 

Also, the enhanced graphics ARE coded in the game, but are not used due to something signed off as ‘playable compatibility’ as far as I can understand, so??

But... They did lie about the in-game features too. They promised a lot more than they delivered, like the bounty hunts and stuff... Where did that go, Ubisoft?

3. The side missions and the story.

Don't take it as such... In my opinion, some of the side missions are fun - at the start. We've talked about gang hideouts, but you have fixer-car-related gigs as well and the first ten of them is very immersive since you don't already know which type of the mission you're up to. Will you be pressured by the time limit? Will you have to race through the city in a car that you can't destroy too much, otherwise it can't be sold on the black market? Will you be a decoy for some other bad people doing bad things? But when you get through this phase... It's the same game system again and again, for 46 times, I think? And the villain convoys... Well. These are fun and refreshing each time, I have to say.

Every time, you can choose a different tactic to toy around with - will you catch up with the baddies sooner, turning this mission into an intense, tight chase experience? Or will you wait for them further on the road, toying around with explosives and guns? Sometimes, they slip past you, which leads to a chase around the city, sometimes you blow up all of the cars perfectly on time, A+. But... You mastered 1/3 types of side mission content.

As for the story, it's not the worst, but it isn't something super-memorable, lifechanging. I am not talking about the idea behind the story (the utopia of having the whole city lead by a system, which enables the corporation to control people's lives without them even knowing), I am talking about the Damien-Aiden-Lena revenge story. It's your daily revenge plot based on Aiden's niece dying in a car crashed after the car being shot at because of a failed job.

The first story mission is mind-blowing. You're thrown into the game and the first thing you have to do is to infiltrate a whole-ass stadium, which feels good, not gonna lie. And the 'prison-break sequence' is also memorable as well. But other than that, it gets real repetitive real fast. 'Follow this person', 'hack this thingy', 'kill this guy', 'tilly that person' and so on is present in every act of the story, which makes things kinda come across as boring after some time. It is what it is.

There are exciting in-game moments, like when Defalt is introduced to the bunch and hacks into the Bunker base, stealing all of your data. But sadly, these story masterpieces tend to be overlooked and not acted on, which takes off some of the immersion potentials. (I know that Defalt's story was saved for the DLC, so it's not the best proof.)

! BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN THAT THE STORY DOESN'T HAVE GOOD BEATS !

Now, the well-made things for which you should DEFINITELY play this game:

1. Chicago being a videogame city that is alive and the 'collectibles' are extra fun.

Okay, okay, let me explain. Sure, Watch Dogs' Chicago isn't the best area ever constructed in an open-world game. But... The city feels alive, it is changing around you, it never stops. You can find people making out, talking bad about their friend who is not there, you can look into their day-to-day life via something called 'privacy invasion', where you just hack into a camera and... You hear mommy calming down her kid who is crying, you can watch two girls playing Wii, presumably, and many other every day encounters.

NPCs are answering to you being into the city - asking questions on the range from 'Is that the guy from the news?' to straightaway call the cops because you are a mass murderer probably. When you stand in the middle of a road, they honk at you; when you accidentally bump into them, they call you names. It's amazing... And profiling them is even more fun. You can find profiles ranging from 'author of poetry' to 'clinically confirmed pyromaniac' and 'searches for 'feet' on the internet'. This shit is just ridiculous.

But... It's the smallest details you'll fall in love with. You can get on the "L" and it takes you on a ride. You can ride in it for the whole day, or you can get off on the next stop. When you're in the Wards or near Rossi Fremont, you can find dudes just listening to rap, chatting. Some guys force flyers into other people's hands. You can have coffee. The rain somehow feels real, and the nighttime just steals your breath away - and so do the sunsets. There's a part of the city called 'Hobotown', where the local hobos live, there are secret poker tournaments.

Chicago in Watch Dogs is a city with so many minor details that you cant find each of them in one gameplay. In each gameplay, you'll find something new, something that just makes you chuckle - but it's so thoughtful of the developers to even put it in their game. These small details are the ones that make you feel as if you were inside the game, convincing you that the Chicago you're looking at is, indeed, alive.

Then, there are the 'collectibles'. I didn't know how to call it other than that, so bear with me for a minute. There are minor 'side-missions' - for example, you're going after a killer, who is leaving you audios on the places he left one of his victims. There are QR coded which unlock audios that talk about the DedSec hacktivists. In the small 'hack 5 routers in a time limit' quests, you are unlocking one of the Blume's employees audios (Angela Balik's), talking about the files Raymond Kenney had hidden in the code back in the day, talking about the uprising of the Bellwether 'crime' prediction system.

The collectibles aren't everyone's thing, of course, and it won't take any of the Chicago experience when you don't listen to the voicemails or if you simply don't collect them. But, they can immerse you in the game world even more. And to be honest, this is one of the few games that had my ass shook about collecting the additional thingies.

2. The character cast.

Let's be honest, Aiden Pearce on his own isn't the best protagonist in the world. Don't get me bad, I like this game a lot, but he can come across as boring at times. And that's exactly when the character cast comes in to balance Aiden's character. Most of the cast has some sort of an attribute which compels to Aiden's personality very well, completes him in some way.

You have Raymond Kenney, who is a paranoid, rowdy, alcoholic genius who helped with creating ctOS - but has remorse about his history, because he caused the Northeast blackout 2003, killing eleven people. Which can show Aiden how bad can the power over the ctOS system be.

There's Jordi Chin, a prestigious assassin/fixer, who uses the game's darkest humor. Every fucking second Jordi is on screen, it's captivating, immersive and you'll find yourself chuckling at Jordi's jokes, which are definitely out of place. But he still keeps reminding you that he's in for the money, which, in the end, turns against Aiden in a way.

Clara Lille, otherwise known as BadBoy17, is a hacktivist working for the rebellious DedSec who are rebelling against Blume, the company behind ctOS. She seems to be innocent of the violence of getting revenge, but later in the game, Aiden discovers how deeply she was invested in the whole story about Lena.

Each of the characters has a personal connection to Aiden, widening his personality in various ways. Which is funny to watch throughout the story - and there's a ton of other characters I didn't even get into, like Lucky Quinn, Nicky, Jackson, Bed Bug... The characters are simply terrific.

3. The overall soundtrack.

Hear me out, this point is kinda tricky, yeah? I am not talking about the official soundtrack. The radio has some blasts I fell in love throughout playing the game - whether it introduced me to song 'Ms. Crumby' by the Audition, or made me fall in love with the Vampire Weekend, Kid Cudi, or The Vindictives. Yet, in the case of the radio, I tend to sort out a playlist consisting of 4-6 songs (YES? YOU CAN MAKE PLAYLIST INSIDE THE GAME???) which I play on repeat throughout the game.

There's also this masterful thing about the soundtrack sometimes 'forcing' itself into your gameplay, maybe more like 'self-inserting' into the game if you will. The two most memorable encounters of this are when: a) when you're helping Ray Kenney leave the junkyard and Pawnee behind and the 'ring ding piety pow' hardcore metal song plays throughout the final encounter (Jesus Built My Hotrod by Ministry) and b) when you enter Rossi Fremont, the whole time you're going through the building, the rap/hip-hop is playing, making you feel gangsta. (I think it's a song by Wu-Tang Clan, not sure tho).

But... Then it hits you. The in-game hidden soundtrack that sadly wasn't released. At least not officially. It has a reason, worry not - this in-game soundtrack reacts to the player's progress throughout the missions, so it basically plays on a loop. Which is understandable.

The most standing out instance I can talk about is when you enter the small island where the old Blume secret place is hidden on. You and Clara are on a mission searching for legendary sacred place (at least for the hackers) called 'The Bunker'. And my friends... This is when it hits you. The soundtrack feels familiar even when you're playing the game for the first time. This piece just hits differently than any other soundtrack I've heard. Not even Time by Hanz Zimmer has this effect on me, and I LOVE the Inception.

And there's more - the piece of the soundtrack which plays when you're going after Jackson is probably another great example.

BONUS ROUND: 4. The Bad Blood (DLC)

Okay, this had a lot to do with my love for Raymond Kenney and I am not worried to say it out loud. But this DLC is truly a DLC. It only uses the WD world, which was set up in the OG game, as its base - but it isn't its main focus at all. This DLC introduces us to new characters as well as to some we knew already we knew.

In the OG game, Tobias is the mad hobo who sells us cool thingies to play with - and in they managed to show Tobias' full potential, showing us how smart and hilarious, as well as paranoid, this guy is in reality. It deepened Ray's character, revealed Defalt's motivations and the history that tied both of them to the Northeast blackout.

There are also new areas to explore, new things to play with and even if the DLC doesn't do anything too revolutionary with the game's world, it's the best DLC I've played. And I may have enjoyed it more than Aiden's story. But again, I'm pro-Kenney biased, so that's kinda expected of me, ain't it?

PS: I hate Sitara or whatever her name is.

[skzm7]

MOBEIUS

BEEZLEBUB’S PURPLE KISS

BUBBLED UP TO SCAR

ITCHIN’ WITH SOMEONE’S SIN

FIRED UP IMPLODING FIST

FEELIN’ FEINT K.O.’ED

SCARLET STAMPED CRAZY! KID

USELESS SHADOW BOXING WALL IS NUMB

JAB HOOK UPPERCUT WHO?

THERE’S A HELTER SKELTER IN SKY CITY

COUNTDOWN TIL IT CLICKS KID

YOU GOT A BAD CASE OF 

WACKO BONKERS LOOPY!

TEN NINE EIGHT

HEY SEVEN

HEYSIX 

WAKE UP FIVE 

COME BACK TO EARTH

PUT ON FOUR YOUR 

THINKING CAP THREE AND GLOVES

ROUND 2 FIGHT!

WIPE OFF THAT STICK

GET YOUR BOTTLE OF LIGHTNING

THROW IT TO THE GROUND

CRACK IT OPEN

YOU’RE TOO BRILLIANT TO BE KEPT IN

LET THE LIONS ROAR LOOSE

FILL UP THE STADIUM

THE MAN WITHIN

DOESN’T GET OUT YOUR ILL

BOX THE OLD WOUNDS DREAMING

AND GET REAL

FALLOUT OF MEMORIES

ROOTED TO FEELINGS

CHAINSAW! HAHAHA

I‘M YOUR SECOND COMING!

SLIDE ON MY LIPS

ENJOY LIKE MANY

THE GRAND CHESSBOARD

OF EBONY AND IVORY

IT’S IN YOUR NATURE

TO GIVE YOURSELF IN

I THINK YOUR SMILE 

HAS TOO MANY TEETH 

FOR A SALESMAN

DING DING ROUND

3, MIND IS MESSY

BODY SO ORPHAN THIN

YOU CAN SEE THE HEARTBREAK 

THROUGH THE SKIN

I CAN DO THIS SO WHY AM I TRIPPING?

BANANA SLIP HEAD SPLITTING

BRAIN FREEZE NO ICE CREAM

BUSY B’S SHADOW BECKONS ME DIVE IN

I WRITHE I WRESTLE I CAVE IN

I KNOW BETTER BUT I’M TOO BUSY DYING

NO ONE SEES MY HEAD’S PURPLE FIRE

DROWNING UNDER THE SURFACE

THESE CANNOT BE MY LAST WORDS

THESE CANNOT BE MY LAST!?

THIS CANNOT BE MY LAST CHANCE

THIS CANNOT BE MY LAST

GASP!

ENTER YOUR UTOPIA

THROUGH THIS GLASS OF MIND

KALEIDOSCOPE VISUAL

TAKE THE CLOCK WITH YOU

SIT ON MY LAP GOOD BOY!

SANTA’S LIST IS INSTANT HERE

YOU’RE A NEW BORN PHENOMENON

NO CREDIT CARD HISTORY

NO RESPONSIBILITY

NO RISK IN THIS

LABYRINTH OF VISIONARY

I’LL HOLD YOUR HAND

I’LL BE YOUR CANARY

FORGET BEING A VICTIM OF CONSCIENCE

WHEN RELIVING YOUR PAST IS SO

M MM MMM DEEEELICIOUS!

AND YOUR LOVED ONES ON EARTH

DON’T NEED YOU ANYWAY

THIS IS WHERE YOU ALWAYS WIN

HERE’S A SICKLE

PLAY GOLF WITH YOUR ENEMIES HEADS

IT’LL TICKLE

HEY WHERE AM I WHAT THE

HELL AM I DOING?

GOING FOR A BIRDIE

CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?

IN THIS BERMUDA TRIANGLE ZOO

HOURS AND SENSES WHAT DID I DO?

MY COMPASS TURNED INTO A U

DIDN’T REALISE I WAS SO BAD

MAD REVENGE NEVER ENDS

NOW I GOT A CLUE HOW IT STARTED

BECAUSE YOU WERE A COWARD

AND YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE

HERE YOU HAVE A VOICE

NO! YOU’RE THE PLACEBO EFFECT GONE WRONG

THOUGHT IT WAS WORKING WHEN IT’S BROKE

DIAMOND MIND REFLECT IN STEAD OF WOKE

BECAUSE YOU’RE SICK

AND THIS IS YOUR SONG

WHAT’S THE POINT PLAYING

IF YOU CAN NEVER LOSE A GAME

TIME’S UP WHERE’S THE GONG

YOUR AUCTION IS UP AND

BONG! YOU’RE SOLD

I GOT SO DARK I FORGOT THE SUN

BECAUSE THE NIGHT IS MORE FUN

WHERE’S THE ALARM WHERE’S THE PINCH?

RING RING! IT’S GROUNDHOG DAY BITCH!

ROUND 4 SAW THE PEN AS MIGHTIER

BUT WHAT’S THE POINT OF WORDS

WHEN MONSTERS ONLY HEAR

THE POINT OF THE SWORD

I DECLARE WAR!

LIFT EXCALIBER FROM THE STONE

RECLAIM THE THRONE

IT’S MY RIGHT TO OWN

START A QUEST TO SLAY AND SLICE

THESE SNAKES HISS IN MY HAIR AND DICE

I’VE PAID THE PRICE MEDUSA VANITY

LET’S DESTROY THIS PLACE

WITH DYNAMITE SANITY

DOES YOUR MIND SWIM IN PURPLE FIRE HM?!

MY BURNING EFFIGY?

WRITHING AGONY

WINDOW SHOPPING WAYS TO VICTORY

LAY IN BED CONTINUE THE LIE

WITH NARCISSISTIC OCD

PARANOID ANDRIOD DELUSION DEFICIENCY

SHOOORYUUUUKEN!

GETTING DESPERATE ARE WE?

COULD I INTEREST YOU IN AN ALTER EGO?

OR ARE YOU ALREADY FULL OF YOURSELVES MY DEAR?

WELL YOU’RE HARD TO IGNORE

FLIPSIDE OF THE COIN

YOU’RE THE PASSENGER

I GOT THE RADIO

SEE I REMEMBER

BEING DEALT A BAD HAND 

FROM THE REALER

MADE ME LEAVE THE TABLE

BECAME MY OWN DEALER

BUT ALL I KNEW WAS THE BAD HAND

KEPT ON PLAYING WONDERLAND

DOUBLED DOWN ON WHAT IF’S 

INSTEAD OF I WILL

CLIMB OUTTA THE RABBIT HOLE

BRACE YOURSELF BUSY B

THIS MIGHT HURT A LITTLE

YOU’RE GONNA NEED A PLASTER

‘CAUSE I’M WELDING PETER VENKMAN’S GHOSTBUSTER ZAPPER

YAWN I’M CROSSING THE STREAMS

PAWN TO TURN INTO A KING

ROUND 5

BLACK ALWAYS LAUGH’S LAST

BECAUSE WHITE MOVES FIRST

TO FALL INTO THE TRAP

TIPPY TOES TO THIS BUZZ

FADE YOU HYPNOTIC TO WHO AM I? FUZZ

SEND YOU FIRST CLASS TO WHERE ICE BURNS

WORSE BEFORE I GET BETTER

WHERE HEAVY IS THE HOLLOW

WHERE AGONYS END’S 

IMPOSSIBLE TO FOLLOW

WHERE SOULS ARE SPLIT TO LICK

SWEET SICK TO SWALLOW

WEAKER BEFORE I GET STRONGER

ABORT THE PLAN

REWIND ESCAPE ATTEMPTS

MICE OF MAN

HEY THE TRAP IS LOOSE BUT

I WILL WIN

CIRCUMSTANCE SNIP! OOPS SORRY!

CIRCUMCISION MISSED THE CUT

BALLS GOT LOST WITH THE MARBLES

KERPLUNK!

I WILL SWIM

SIX DRINKS DEEP

WALKING AUTOPSY TURVY

IMPRESS AN INVISIBLE AUDIENCE

AND LOOK AT ME! TROPHY

I WILL MAKE SENSE

I WILL BECOME KING

YOUR BODY’S OUT OF ORDER

TAKE THE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

FIND AIZEN AT THE DOOR

TAKE A TEARS HINT YOU’RE GOING DOWN

WHERE NEVER IS THE FLOOR

THIS IS EASY PULL OUT THE STITCH

I CAN BAMBOOZLE YOU SO MUCH

I’M INSIDE OUT LETS SWITCH

JUPITER CAN YOU SEE THE SPOT I’M IN?

I’VE BEEN UP AND DOWN

WITH CHOICE AND REASON

NOTICE PICKING NOTHING

NEVER BEEN IN SEASON

FASHION DISASTER

THIS MAN WENT MISSING IN ACTION

SAVE THE MILK CARTON 

TAKE YOUR PSYCHO STAMP AND COLLAR

I’LL GET US HELP KISS IT BETTER 

MAKE US SOUND

THIS YO-YO SOUL’S TURNED THE TABLES A

ROUND! 6 I’M ALWAYS BESIDE

A PART OF PERSONALITY

MOBEIUS SHYS

UNTIL IT MADE ME

MEMORY WITH A TWIST OF FANTASY

SOON GAVE ME A VOICE OF MALICE

NOW IT’S MY TURN TO EAT WONDERLAND’S ALICE

AND WITH PURPLE STAINED LIPS MWAH!

PIERCE THIS PSYCHIC PLACE RAW

SHOUT HALLEYUYAH AND A REST IN PEACE

SO PRINCE BEEZLEBUB CAN RISE TO THE SEAT

ALL THE WOMEN I WANT TO KISS

ALL THE MEN I WANT TO KICK

THIS WORLD I WANT TO RULE

I’M THE ONE WHOS GONA LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER FUCK

YOUUUAAAYOURRRCANTRRDOGGTHISHHHWITHHHHOUTHHMYAASAYSO!

ROUND 7!!!

THISISMYSCREAMMMMMMMMMMM!!!

I’LL BE MY OWN HERO

LET ME LIVE GET MY SOUL SURE

FIND A GOOD HAND

TO RAISE ME UP

MAKE A STAND

BE WHOLE ONCE MORE

SPEAK THE TRUE

BREAK MOBEIUS’ ILLUSION

DOUBT WHAT NO ONE ELSE SENSES - FAITH IN ABILITY

WHEN THEY SWAP SEATS ON BELIEFS SEESAW

YOU’LL KICK YOUR OWN ASS 

AND STROKE YOUR ELBOW

RECREATING EVENTS LOST MY

MEMORYS LOGIC OF WHAT’S NEXT

MOVE FORWARD OR BE

STUCK IN THE MUD WITH YOUR INVISIBLE FRIEND?

THINK I FOUND MY HAPPY THOUGHT

HEY PIXIE I CAUGHT MY SHADOW

SORRY I SPLIT LICKEDY LET’S GO

BUSY B AIN’T GOING DOWN EASY

BORN A FIGHTER FROM CHAOS FIRE

ORIGINAL PRIMORDAL METAPHYSICAL DESIRE

RESISTANCE IS FUTILE KID JUST RETIRE

THIS IS MY POWER THIS IS MY HOUR

TO TAKE BACK WHO I AM

AND GET OUTTA L.A.’S TRAFFIC JAM

DISCOVERY IS THE WISH OF THE SOUL

ROAD RAGE BREAK OUT INEVITABLE

NO ONE CAN SOLVE THIS ALONE

IF YOU ARE YOUR OWN PROBLEM

I’M THE MYSTERIOUS WAY

CAVE TO MY SAY

IN HERE I’M KING

I’M THE PURPOSE

YOU’RE THE HORSE

YOU SERVE ME

LOOK UP AS YOU

BOW BEFORE BUB

RATHER TAKE ON THE WORLD

BRAVE DON’T FEAR THE GRAVE

FACE THE MUSIC

FACE THE ENEMY

ANSWER’S ALREADY HERE

SEEING GHOULS OF DEMISE

OR ANGELS IN DISGUISE

ONLY THAT YOU DECIDE

NO ONE EVER FAUGHT FOR YOU

I WAS TEACHING YOU HOW TO FIGHT

ALL YOU NEEDED IS THE SIGHT

WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET

WALLS OF STEEL AND STONE ARE A WEAK PRISON

MIRRORED WALLS OF SKIN AND BONE

THEY’VE DONE THEIR JOB PRETTY

SURE YOU’RE TOO LATE THIS IS

ALL MINE FOR THE TAKING

MY HEART’S PURE

YOU CAN’T PUNCH THIS LIGHT

OUT OF MY FUTURE

EITHER SHAKE MY HAND OR EAT MY FIST

STEP BACK INTO THE RING

LET’S SEE WHAT YOU GOT KID

THINK I’M GONNA BE ALRIGHT

I GOT WORK TO DO

LET’S FIGHT!

***

From “The Silent Album”

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08DHMQ673

[solskinns]

Gold Over the Heart

It's a simple night in the city of true perfection; even the horrors of night have no power to tarnish the beauty of the city lights from above on top of some of the tallest buildings. Such a scenery allows me to see the cars below as if they are mice or rats and my good friend Lanced-Moonlight looks down too. I believe clarification is needed though, I am the great Captain-Daylight; hero in the thriving city of Perfania though I personally want that ‘f’ to be a ‘v’ however that is me getting ahead of myself. My ability of great strength and flight has made me the hero of light. Though my friend ends up my opposite as the night's final answer wielding a lance more like a bow-staff. He sees the city that he holds so dearly to his heart.

“Look at them all, at ANY time ANY of them could end up in jail if they make even a single wrong move” He said worryingly.

“Do not fret old friend, soon we can make sure the utopia we achieved remains so” My answer became. Indeed this city couldn't be better of its painful perfection after the work of war being neutralized. What WAS here was the rubble of a broken city doomed for apocalypse upon its fallout during the 1950s and war in the 1960s! Therefore, upon the end of the war, peace had settled in at last with the help of me and my fellow men that took the call to action. Now the buildings stand taller than ever a renaissance beginning with a bigger, scattered, more functional Stonehenge towering over those who innocently roam the streets; truly, a paradise has been made in hopes of it being maintained!

It always seemed to be the alleyway, however, that was still as dark as it always was aside from the litter and graffiti that no longer marks these areas, though warning signs for innocent strangers are what fashion them now. It makes the roundup of bad guys much easier honestly.

“You know Lanced-Moonlight, such heroism is quite difficult for keeping morale amongst our public; how is it you are maintaining such popularity?” I question sitting against a wall with him holding his lance like a once warrior now king, waiting for his next challenger pridefully.

“John, must we go through with the reasoning of your failure as a hero on the daily now?” He questions back with disappointment in his tone. I could tell it was disappointment laid true considering his mention of my name and his heart seeming unwilling to mention it once more. It's also possible that he doesn't want to be here anyway.

“It has boggled my mind then and it still does NOW, so I believe it is still needed, yes” I say so a bit assertively with my kind wish for advice

He sighs defeated “Well if you MUST know, you are completely out of your league; powers of the strong with a mind for the weak” he scoffs as if disgusted and continues “Where I am able to take down the villains to the delight of our fans, YOU are criticized time and time again by your methods” 

Like always, I'm shocked by the response I got “Methods? Well why woul-”

He cuts me off “Don't you see your excitement is killing your reputation for what you do?!” He blurted out of a hate for WHAT I do rather than me specifically.

I basically wait till he's done which he took as me speechless.

“They all love me because I don't bother with horrifying acts like that and they ALL have feelings that you of all people have a dark side to yourself,”

“well that goes for you too my frie-”

Once again he cut me off from my little joke “Me included…” Now THIS was a new one and worst of all, it felt like he kept that in for practically MONTHS!

He gets up from the cold low hair of concrete and brick and looks down at the alley he has been on the lookout for as his eyes narrow to a group down there, so he tries to finish our shorter of talks “I suggest that you change your acts before you get labeled a madman and get thrown in the prison, I'm sure they'd LOVE to talk to you there” he jumps down and next thing I end up hearing is the punching and even cracking of bones. Not a single scream or beg for mercy was uttered by the my old friend!

The next day, my rest in a simple mattress was rather nice; my apartment room was small with a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom all wrapped into a nice package the size of half an attic really. I manage getting out of bed and do my daily routine of perfect hygiene, a great breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes filling my nostrils and my stomach, and finally dressing up in my uniform of the white suit with the significant C in a sun as well as yellow gloves and boots for this occasion. OH, and can't forget my flowing yellow cape to fly in.

With all the essentials, I fly out the window, close it, feel the sun return my abilities in full force, and patrol the streets of a perfect city, no crowds and no trouble either. I could feel the wind flow my well cut and positioned hair as the only sounds I get to hear up here is the public enjoying their lives without a second thought. That is until I find a line decorating a single sidewalk to an expo center. Now what on earth is all this? I look for a sign on the building and oh I thought seeing Lanced-Moonlight’s daily routine of the morning. I decided to float my way slowly to the expo that would be the the most average sized building in the city.

People and even security allowed me inside without the need to wait in line. Upon arriving, it was clear as day, Lanced-Moonlight was signing autographs and selling his recent stories for all to see his work. Not to mention his merchandise flying off the shelves like a tornado took all the good products! There DOES exist my merchandise, but, like every time, it lays dormant and fully stocked. Only a select few have wandered there just because the Lanced-Moonlight stuff is long gone.

“AH, the Captain of Daylight himself” He says smiling smiling at me and getting up. His costume is visual and his navy blue suit is shown with a crescent shaped moon and stars making an L shape. He sports a scarf of pure white with only a few light gray spots here and there. Simply put, he stays my opposite in every way “HEY EVERYONE ‘GOODY-GOODY’ IS HERE TO TELL MY STORY TO YOU GUYS! Aren't you pal?” patting my shoulder with a nice grin directed to me. He also jokes with me seeming like a ‘goody-goody’ he calls it.

“Sure, I'd like to” I recite the story as I heard it for myself and how I didn't join due to me...having faith in his ability to do it alone...yeah. The audience would correct me on the violent acts he did and laugh at my cowardice as I portrayed it “and there you go, the story of another victory for the Lanced-Moonlight against the dreaded Jaded-Key” I really assumed it was the villain who could open any door through his incredible strength; it simply made sense from the voice. He segued me off to the side as to give himself more attention. It didn't matter to me though, I did what he wished and that's all I want, besides, I'm going to be late for MY meet and greet.

I fly off in the lower streets where kids usually have trouble around here and sure enough, I snatch a cat from a tree and talk to its owner about this behavior, I get a kid a brand new balloon to replace the one in the same tree as well as scold him for doing it for the seventh time this month, and even stop some roughhousing between four kids while having them make up for past mistakes. They all say the same thing “get away” “I can't talk to mean strangers” “so what old man” and my favorite “go jump on the meanie-trainy” the imaginations on these children seem to never end. It all passes by me though; I helped them and I'm okay with that. What madness it is to get that across others and to say I'm not crazy which once more, I protest still, my mind is sane and well.

I fly on down to the gray box of inescapable brick and I stand proudly in front of it, opening the doors that contain these villains all that have destroyed or stole in some way or another. I walk past every cell with names flashing by; Winged-Zapter, Professor Gulp, Sea-beast, and then Jaded Key which I stop at. There were others beyond his cell, but I don't need them now, for now it's HIM I need! I take my breath and get ready for my vile deed to the city. Delay is no longer an option. I must do this. For my city. For my people...I open the door as it creaks in the way a metal door would to see him peacefully sitting on the bed.

I smile relieved; he could escape easily with his strength and yet he sits. I take a seat on the other end of the bed as my position is to him so we can have this be done and over with“good morning, Jake, I trust you slept well today”

He smirks at my mention of his real name “better than ever, but ya kept me waiting” he responds gladly.

“Oh, well I had some delays on the way here, you know me” I chuckled.

“Yeah, hero business and what not” He says understandably.

“Now...let us talk about what happened yesterday,” this is no interrogation “how was it?” this is my horrible act that I pull every single day

“Well ya see…” he responds with how he was just fine with all the chaos that was going on. Do I regret what I do because the fans won't give me fame from what I do? Am I tricking this man? Do my acts cause pain and sorrow to those I face? Absolutely NOT! Why? Because despite the city claiming its openness to all, the people of PerVania do not see the segregation that still reigns supreme and is even SUPPORTED by the likes of the Lanced-Moonlight!

Therefore, as the only light in the dark, I believe everyone deserves a second chance...EVERYONE!

*CUT*

Coming this week; the next story concept of a perfect world trying to figure out how to remain perfect. This short story is not the real thing and Captain-Daylight as well as Lanced-Moonlight will not be this simple. Lanced will be lighter and less selfish than that while the 'bad guys' are typical villains instead of criminals. Daylight is more optimistic while also somewhat ignorant to the big picture as he only saves lives and unintentionally gain fame amongst the audience. Just as further salt on the wound, the audience is okay with all of this. No worries though, a hitman in a world where corporations are all there is has been thrusted into this world of a classic and tired formula...this is more comedy as I create it so maybe look forward to that. Until then, keep the sun shining! Buh-byye

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Investigations into the Sun Myung Moon / Hak Ja Han organizations

Sun Myung Moon’s One-World Theocracy

In order to rule the world, Sun Myung Moon had to start with Korea.

Sun Myung Moon’s desire to take over the League for his own financial and political ends

Fraser Committee Report on Moon org.:  “these violations were related to the overall goals of gaining temporal power.”

How Sun Myung Moon’s organization helped to establish Bolivia as South America’s first narco-state.

My experience within the hierarchy of the Moon cult during its years of expansion in Russia and in the CIS

Press Release on the FFWPU by the Department of Communication, Nizhny Novgorod province, Russia

Group Founded by Sun Myung Moon Preaches Sexual Abstinence in China

____________________________________

Missing Pieces of the Story of Sun Myung Moon by Frederick Clarkson

Holy Songs – more than half were written by members who left. Moon understood very clearly the power of music. The Holy Songs have always held a grip on the emotions of members, penetrating to a deeper level than logic.

The Unification Church – Jane Day Mook & Hiroshi Yamaguchi

Where Sun Myung Moon got his theology

Moon claimed authority through his “meeting with Jesus”

Ewha Womans University sex scandal as told in the 1955 newspapers

Moon’s theology for his pikareum sex rituals with all the 36 wives

Ritual Sex in the Unification Church – Kirsti L. Nevalainen

Tragedy of the Six Marys translated video transcript

The Tragedy of the Six Marys website

The Three Day Ceremony revisited

____________________________________

The FFWPU / Unification Church and Shamanism

Sun Myung Moon – Emperor, and God

The six ‘wives’ of Sun Myung Moon

____________________________________

Science, Sin, and Scholarship: The Politics of Reverend Moon and the Unification Church. Horowitz, Irving Louis (1978) LINK

‘Privatizing’ Covert Action: The Case of the Unification Church

In Bolivia, Moon disciple Tom Ward and the former Hitler SS Officer, Klaus Barbie were often seen together

In 1985 the Washington Times sponsored a fund for the Contras who committed atrocities, and trafficked drugs to the US

Cold-War Fascism, and Neo-Moonies: The bizarre backstory most media are missing

Robert Parry’s investigations into Sun Myung Moon

Sun Myung Moon and the United Nations

FBI and other reports on Sun Myung Moon

United States Congressional investigation of Moon’s organization

Gifts of Deceit – Robert Boettcher

Politics and religion interwoven

The Moon Organization Academic Network Rev. Moon Goes to College by Daniel Junas Covert Action Information Bulletin   Number 38 – Fall 1991  pages 22-27 https://covertactionmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/CAIB38.pdf

Inside the League book by Scott Anderson & Jon Lee Anderson Chapter Five: LINK Whole book: https://www.scribd.com/document/393464988/Inside-the-League-1986-by-Scott-Jon-Lee-Anderson-pdf

Allen Tate Wood on Sun Myung Moon and the UC

Sun Myung Moon was found guilty of US tax fraud and sent to Danbury prison in 1984

The Resurrection of Rev Moon

Sun Myung Moon: The Emperor of the Universe

Nansook Hong interviewed on ‘60 minutes’ and two other interviews

Sam Park reveals Moon’s hidden history (2014)

Son of Moon: Money, Guns and God – Portfolio (2007)

L’empire Moon – Jean-François Boyer (French)

____________________________________

A huge FFWPU scam in Japan is revealed

Shocking video of UC of Japan demanding money – English transcript

Top Japanese FFWPU defector, Yoshikazu Soejima, interviewed Moon’s Japanese Profits Bolster Efforts in U.S. By John Burgess and Michael Isikoff – Washington Post Staff Writers September 16, 1984 http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-srv/national/longterm/cult/unification/profit.htm

How Moon bought protection in Japan extracts from the article by Richard J. Samuels Japan Policy Research Institute – Working Paper No. 83, December 2001 http://www.jpri.org/publications/workingpapers/wp83.html

Suicide of Moon money mule in Uruguay

Why did a Japanese UC member kill her Korean husband?

Moon extracted $500 million from Japanese female members

6,500 women missing from FFWPU mass weddings

FFWPU / UC of Japan used members for profit, not religious purposes

Japanese woman recruited and sold by FFWPU to a Korean farmer

The Comfort Women controversy

____________________________________

Unification Church invests $1 billion in China project

Sushi and Rev. Moon

____________________________________

The Fall of the House of Moon – New Republic https://newrepublic.com/article/115512/unification-church-profile-fall-house-moon

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2013/12/reverend-moon-unification-church-washington-times-secret-son

FFWPU human trafficking is despicable

Black Heung Jin Moon – Violence in the FFWPU

After Sun Myung Moon’s help, North Korea Launch an underwater missile on October 2, 2019

Evidence that Moonies Jump-Started the North Korean Nuclear Program that Now Threatens the US

Moon, North Korea & the Bushes By Robert Parry   (Originally published on October 11, 2000)

Ford Greene, ex-Moonie turned lawyer

____________________________________

FFWPU President of IAPP (The International Association of Parliamentarians for Peace) Prosecuted for Money Laundering and Drug Smuggling in US Court; suspicions of connections to UC / FFWPU Leadership

Unification Church Invests Heavily In Uruguay

Sun Myung Moon’s Lost Eco-Utopia in Paraguay

Sun Myung Moon organization activities in Central & South America

CAUSA and Three South American Terror Generals

Actividades de la Secta Moon en países de habla hispana

____________________________________

https://六マリアの悲劇.com

____________________________________

문선명의 정체! (1)  김명희

유호민 – 통일교회의 경제적 기반에 공헌하고 배신 당했다.

유신희 – 6마리아의 한 사람 이었다.

김덕진 – 섹스릴레이의 실천자

____________________________________

Investigations into the Moonies

The Unification Church (UC) was renamed The Family Federation for World Peace and Unification (FFWPU) The International Association of Parliamentarians for Peace (IAPP), the Universal Peace Federation (UPF), Women’s Federation for World Peace (WFWP), CARP, and Ambassadors for Peace, etc., are all projects of Sun Myung Moon and / or Hak Ja Han who founded the UC / FFWPU,  or of their dedicated followers.

[thekiraconspiracy]

Things Light Cannot Do

An old list I made years ago and posted on fanfiction.net I thought would be fun to transfer over~

THINGS LIGHT YAGAMI CANNOT DO

1. I can no longer steal Apples

2. I can no longer feed said apples to my pet Shinigami

3. Even if said Shinigami will go into withdrawal without them

4. I can no longer cackle when writing names in Death Note

5. I can no longer write criminal names in the death note

6. I can no longer write any names in the death note

7. Even if that means that I cannot create my own utopia

8. I also cannot get Misa to write names in the death note for me

9. Nor can I convince Ryuk to kill her to make her go away

10. L is a strawberry cake addict, I can't take away his cake or he will get violent

11. I cannot trick, bribe or convince the task force to take away his cake either

12. Especially not Matsuda, who will end up dying for it

13. Supposedly he really is a necessity to the team, his death would not be ideal

14. I cannot take over the world

15. Even though the government is doing a shit job of running the world

16. I also can no longer manipulate girls

17. I'm told that's unethical. Tch, they just don't understand that I am god.

18. I'm not allowed to play with both Takada and Misa, cleaning up after catfights is expensive.

19. I am not allowed to trick my dad into using the death note

20. Or trick him into trading for the Shinigami eyes

21. Tricking Rem into killing L and Watari is forbidden

22. I also cannot trick her into killing anyone else that will result in her death

23. Grand soliloquies about my divine calling are banned

24. The foolish people do not want to hear my true calling to godhood

25. I cannot let Beyond Birthday out of prison

26. Even if Beyond promises to kill L

27. It is illegal to drug L's cake

28. Even if a high L is hysterical

29. And I cannot trick him into revealing his real name

30. Because that's also illegal due to the methods it would take to reveal such info

31. I cannot be Kira, not today or tomorrow. I am expressly forbidden to become Kira

32. But that will not stop me. I WILL BE THE GOD OF THE NEW WORLD!

[randomrainman]

the military, convenient patriotism, and the court of public opinion.

Photo: Corpses, mainly of women and children, litter the ground following the events of the infamous My Lai massacre on March 16, 1968.  Original photo by Ronald L. Haeberle.

“Baby-killers”.

Amidst the severe post-traumatic stress syndrome (now known as post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD) that addled Vietnam combat veterans, this was one of the many epithets hurled at military members upon their return to the United States.  While some servicemembers did participate in horrifying, inhumane, and egregious behaviour (the My Lai massacre being the most prominent example) which prompted worldwide outrage, there exists a gulf in the general public’s perception of those who served in Vietnam and in later wars.

Photo: The North and South Towers of the World Trade Center, moments after American Airlines Flight 11 and United Airlines Flight 175 struck the respective towers.  Photo: digitaljournal.com

I was in Mr. Stone’s class at Eleanor McMain Magnet Secondary School in New Orleans, Louisiana, on the morning of September 11, 2001, when the news displayed live feed of the NYC attacks immediately following the impact of the planes.  We watched in horror and awe as both buildings fell one after the other.  The attacks, later found to be attributed to al-Qa’ida-affiliated hijackers, killed 2,996 people and injured over 6,000.  The aftermath ignited a firestorm of Islamophobia, which led to an exponential increase in anti-Muslim-related hate crimes.  These same hate crimes have seen an uptick during the Trump administration.

In March of 2003, 72% of Americans supported military action in Iraq.  Then-President George W. Bush justified the invasion by alleging that then-Iraqi President Saddam Hussein was in possession of weapons of mass destruction, a claim proven to be entirely unsubstantiated. It called into question the legitimacy of a “Global War on Terrorism”, and even predicted dangerous consequences should the Iraq campaign continue.   "New jihadist networks and cells, sometimes united by little more than their anti-western agendas, are increasingly likely to emerge," said then-CIA chief Michael Hayden, in a statement proven to be accurate by the eventual rise of the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL), amongst other militant Islamic organisations.

In contrast to the widespread resentment or apathy toward servicemembers following the revelation of U.S. atrocities in Vietnam, public responses to war crimes, such as those committed at Abu Ghraib, were comparatively muted, and some went as far as to justify them.

There has certainly been a paradigm shift; the way in which our military members are perceived has drastically changed.  Once regular people, recent sensationalisation and praise from various outlets has elevated servicemembers’ status to near-royalty.  I personally served in the Army from 2005 to 2010, and  during times in which I had to appear in uniform in public, people would occasionally approach me.  “Thank you for your service,” they would sometimes tell me, glints of what appeared to be appreciation glowing in their eyes.  I acknowledged their compliment, but never understood any of it.  I really am a regular guy who just happens to have worn a uniform.  There are (as of this post) approximately 325 million Americans -- why am I the hero, when people who do jobs that require much more talent and specialisation, such as teachers and doctors, aren’t lauded similarly?  Of course, as I’m waking up at 0500 to go on a company run, I’m not thinking about that shit, but the point is that people other than servicemembers have made immense sacrifices and all comprise the fabric of America just as well as we do.

Photo: Fans at Lambeau Field form a display in support of the military.  From my perspective, this is max cringe, and this sort of display seems more at home in North Korea than in the USA.  Original photo author unknown.

Between 2011 and 2014, the Department of Defense allocated approximately $5.4 million to several NFL teams to garner support for and from military members, which, from my perspective, is a waste of money, but also not surprising, because, from my observation as a military member, the DoD throws away money on stupid bullshit like it’s going out of style.

Photo: A recent controversial Nike advert featuring Colin Kaepernick’s likeness.  Since veterans are the only ones in America capable of sacrifice, this ad should have never existed.  Photo: cnn.com

“Convenient patriotism”

Former San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick created a social media maelstrom (and subsequently lost his job) with his 2016 national anthem kneeling protest against police brutality.  He especially pissed off the military ... except he didn’t, and a solid portion of veterans actually support him and his cause.  Furthermore, Nate Boyer, the Special Forces veteran with whom the former NFL player initially consulted concerning the protest, stood alongside the kneeling Kaepernick during a game.

Even with veteran support and understanding that the protest is explicitly not anti-flag, anti-anthem, anti-military, or anti-America, many people, to include our incumbent draft-dodging citrus-in-chief, have expressly decried his actions as being offensive to the military.  All sorts of ignoramuses, previously silent, suddenly became hyper-patriotic, star-spangled, and damn proud Americans, and are somehow deeply offended. As I said earlier, I don’t understand putting military members on pedestals, but in what universe did some random faux-patriot guy or girl get to make the call on what veterans like myself are supposed to be offended by?  Excuse me?  Where is your outrage at the Confederate or Nazi flags being flown in our nation?  At Donald Trump’s blatant disrespect of the late John McCain, a U.S. senator and former prisoner-of-war in Vietnam?  Hell, if you are going to get offended and start burning your own property, then at the very least have that rage directed toward something that actually means something and affects you.

Nope.  You only care when it’s convenient for you and your myopic, pre-programmed, and possibly racist worldview.  You don’t actually care about America; you would rather pretend that we live in a “post-racial” utopia, and that everyone (except yourself) is the problem.  “If you don’t like America, you can get the fuck out,” you might say.  No; you should get the fuck out, because you are part of the problem, because you lack understanding and empathy.

Good day.  Oh, and nationalism sucks.

|the kid|

[forsetti]

On Defending Misogyny: Ross Douthat Edition

Ross Douthat’s latest nonsense in the New York Times is quite the pile of crap, even when compared to other piles of crap written by Douthat.  Here is my take on the article (Douthat’s article in bold.) One lesson to be drawn from recent Western history might be this: Sometimes the extremists and radicals and weirdos see the world more clearly than the respectable and moderate and sane. All kinds of phenomena, starting as far back as the Iraq War and the crisis of the euro but accelerating in the age of populism, have made more sense in the light of analysis by reactionaries and radicals than as portrayed in the organs of establishment opinion. Not one single person with an ounce of credibility thinks that extremists and radicals and weirdos see the world clearly because SEEING THE WORLD CLEARLY IS ANTITHETICAL TO BEING AN EXTREMISTS, RADICAL, OR WEIRDO.  The ONLY way Douthat's statement makes any sense is if he thinks people with enough common sense to know invading Iraq on bogus reasons with zero plan on what to do after the initial invasion was a fucking horrible idea, were extremist, radical, weirdo.

This is part of why there’s been so much recent agitation over universities and op-ed pages and other forums for debate. There’s a general understanding that the ideological mainstream isn’t adequate to the moment, but nobody can decide whether that means we need purges or pluralism, a spirit of curiosity and conversation or a furious war against whichever side you think is evil.

For those more curious than martial, one useful path through this thicket is to look at areas where extremists and eccentrics from very different worlds are talking about the same subject. Such overlap is no guarantee of wisdom, but it’s often a sign that there’s something interesting going on.

A classic Douthat move-lay out a completely bogus claim right out of the block and then construct a whole argument on top of it.

Which brings me to the sex robots. People having opinions about the Iraq war and the European Union logically leads us to sex robots because of course it fucking does.

Well, actually, first it brings me to the case of Robin Hanson, a George Mason economist, libertarian and noted brilliant weirdo. Commenting on the recent terrorist violence in Toronto, in which a self-identified “incel” — that is, involuntary celibate — man sought retribution against women and society for denying him the fornication he felt that he deserved, Hanson offered this provocation: If we are concerned about the just distribution of property and money, why do we assume that the desire for some sort of sexual redistribution is inherently ridiculous?

If you use “libertarian,” you don't get to follow it up with “brilliant.” Never....fucking ever.  As crazy as that juxtaposition of terms is the casual acceptance by Douthat of what “incel” means is even more disturbing.  The idea that women in society have to have sex with men is repulsive on every level.  That someone gives voice to this notion and give it its own term is fucked up beyond reason. Sorry men, women are not here for you to have sex with.  Here's a thought, if men want to have sex with women, then maybe, just maybe, they should behave in ways that women deem appropriate enough to where they will give up their bodies willingly to them.  Anything short of this is misogyny at the least and rape a the most. After all, he wrote, “one might plausibly argue that those with much less access to sex suffer to a similar degree as those with low income, and might similarly hope to gain from organizing around this identity, to lobby for redistribution along this axis and to at least implicitly threaten violence if their demands are not met.” Let me de-fuckify this statement because it is a Ceasar's Word Salad of nonsense.  “Men who don't get as much sex as they want, think they deserve, need to band together to find ways, even through violence, to get women to fuck them against their wills.”

This argument was not well received by people closer to the mainstream than Professor Hanson, to put it mildly. A representative response from Slate’s Jordan Weissmann, “Is Robin Hanson the Creepiest Economist in America?”, cited the post along with some previous creepy forays to dismiss Hanson as a misogynist weirdo not that far removed from the franker misogyny of toxic online males.

I can't understand why the “mainstream” would find the unionization of violent, horny men hell-bent on making women their sexual subjects offensive.  But, see what Douthat has done.  He has already constructed his argument where the mainstream is the ones who don't “see the world clearly.”  Since the mainstream has been pigeon-holed as not seeing reality for what it really is, then it logically follows for Douthat that their view cannot be correct.

But Hanson’s post made me immediately think of a recent essay in The London Review of Books by Amia Srinivasan, “Does Anyone Have the Right To Sex?” Srinivasan, an Oxford philosophy professor, covered similar ground (starting with an earlier “incel” killer) but expanded the argument well beyond the realm of male chauvinists to consider groups with whom The London Review’s left-leaning and feminist readers would have more natural sympathy — the overweight and disabled, minority groups treated as unattractive by the majority, trans women unable to find partners and other victims, in her narrative, of a society that still makes us prisoners of patriarchal and also racist-sexist-homophobic rules of sexual desire.

There is a lot to unpack here.  First, Douthat uses a philosopher, in order to bolster the credibility of his argument.  As someone with two degrees in philosophy, I can tell you that there are a lot of batshit crazy people with philosophy degrees who throw out outlandish arguments for no other reason than to be controversial and get their shit published in order to placate the Publish or Perish Gods. Second, having sympathy for how a culture views and treats groups outside the accepted norms like “overweight,” “trans,” “disabled,”... who have a difficult time having sex for a host of reasons is, to quote Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction, “...ain't the same fucking ballpark. It ain't the same league. It ain't even the same fucking sport.” Third, Douthat, a devout Catholic who has carried water for the patriarchy, for misogynists, for homophobes...for years now doesn't get to pretend he is worried about the very structure he helped build.

Srinivasan ultimately answered her title question in the negative: “There is no entitlement to sex, and everyone is entitled to want what they want.” But her negative answer was a qualified one. While “no one has a right to be desired,” at the same time “who is desired and who isn’t is a political question,” which left-wing and feminist politics might help society answer differently someday. This wouldn’t instantiate a formal right to sex, exactly, but if the new order worked as its revolutionary architects intended, sex would be more justly distributed than it is today.

Not only did Douthat use a philosopher to bolster his argument, he completely misused their words in order to do so.  Notice how he uses Srinivasan's comment, “who is desired and who isn't is a political question,” and dovetails his own comment “which left-wing and feminist politics might help society answer differently someday,” as if they were one and the same statement.  Every culture has their own ideas of what is/isn't sexually desirable.  It has nothing to do with “left-wing” or “feminist” politics.  Some cultures sexually value heavier companions, those with smaller feet, those with longer necks, those with fairer skin...  We can argue the rationality of all of these but none of them are based on leftist or feminist beliefs.  In fact, left-leaning and feminists would argue the fuck against these arbitrary sexual values.

A number of the critics I saw engaging with Srinivasan’s essay tended to respond the way a normal center-left writer like Weissmann engaged with Hanson’s thought experiment — by commenting on its weirdness or ideological extremity rather than engaging fully with its substance. But to me, reading Hanson and Srinivasan together offers a good case study in how intellectual eccentrics — like socialists and populists in politics — can surface issues and problems that lurk beneath the surface of more mainstream debates.

By this I mean that as offensive or utopian the redistribution of sex might sound, the idea is entirely responsive to the logic of late-modern sexual life, and its pursuit would be entirely characteristic of a recurring pattern in liberal societies.

Shorter Douthat: “Smart people reacting honestly to the arguments of a libertarian nut job don't know what the fuck they are doing but I, a dyed-in-the-wool social conservative does because of some magical reason that is never explained.”  If you think placating angry, resentful, horny men is the way to utopia, I'm pretty sure you are either stupid as fuck and/or just about the most intellectually dishonest person I've ever read.

First, because like other forms of neoliberal deregulation the sexual revolution created new winners and losers, new hierarchies to replace the old ones, privileging the beautiful and rich and socially adept in new ways and relegating others to new forms of loneliness and frustration. Douthat's use of “neoliberal” was done on purpose and as meaningless as the term itself.  What Douthat really means by this statement is, “In the past, men could do whatever the fuck they wanted to women, whenever they wanted and women had to take it because that is the fucking way it was.  Now men can't do this and they are having a sad about it so we need to blame the women and those who support them instead of the fuck wad misogynists who were morally wrong 50, 100, 200... years ago for their behaviors.”

Second, because in this new landscape, and amid other economic and technological transformations, the sexes seem to be struggling generally to relate to one another, with social and political chasms opening between them and not only marriage and family but also sexual activity itself in recent decline.

“The sexes seem to be struggling generally to relate to one another, with social and political chasms opening up between them.”  Holy Both-Fucking-Siderism!  NO!!!  The “sexes” are not having a problem.  MEN caught up in an archaic belief system are having a problem-a big fucking problem.  Douthat doesn't get to lay the responsibility and consequences of men not adapting to women's rights on the doorstep of women.

Third, because the culture’s dominant message about sex is still essentially Hefnerian, despite certain revisions attempted by feminists since the heyday of the Playboy philosophy — a message that frequency and variety in sexual experience is as close to a summum bonum as the human condition has to offer, that the greatest possible diversity in sexual desires and tastes and identities should be not only accepted but cultivated, and that virginity and celibacy are at best strange and at worst pitiable states. And this master narrative, inevitably, makes both the new inequalities and the decline of actual relationships that much more difficult to bear …which in turn encourages people, as ever under modernity, to place their hope for escape from the costs of one revolution in a further one yet to come, be it political, social or technological, which will supply if not the promised utopia at least some form of redress for the many people that progress has obviously left behind.

There is an alternative, conservative response, of course — namely, that our widespread isolation and unhappiness and sterility might be dealt with by reviving or adapting older ideas about the virtues of monogamy and chastity and permanence and the special respect owed to the celibate.

So let me get this straight, the problem with sex in America is because of feminists and leftists but, “ the culture’s dominant message about sex is still essentially Hefnerian.”?  I've never known a single feminist or leftist who was not only okay with the views and attitudes about sex espoused by Hugh Hefner but who used them as the basis of their sexual ethics.   In fact, it has been the direct opposite.   Douthat's view of feminism and left-leaning is comical and beyond conservative stereotyping.  

But this is not the natural response for a society like ours. Instead we tend to look for fixes that seem to build on previous revolutions, rather than reverse them.

In the case of sexual liberation and its discontents, that’s unlikely to mean the kind of thoroughgoingly utopian reimagining of sexual desire that writers like Srinivasan think we should aspire toward, or anything quite so formal as the pro-redistribution political lobby of Hanson’s thought experiment.

By defacto argument, the sexual revolution was bad so men trying to come to terms with how to really treat women as equals would be a misguided approach to the problem.  We need to go back in time to when women had limited rights and almost none with regard to their bodies, their sexuality, and start from there in order to build a more perfect union where men get to get laid when they want by whomever they want.

But I expect the logic of commerce and technology will be consciously harnessed, as already in pornography, to address the unhappiness of incels, be they angry and dangerous or simply depressed and despairing. The left’s increasing zeal to transform prostitution into legalized and regulated “sex work” will have this end implicitly in mind, the libertarian (and general male) fascination with virtual-reality porn and sex robotswill increase as those technologies improve — and at a certain point, without anyone formally debating the idea of a right to sex, right-thinking people will simply come to agree that some such right exists, and that it makes sense to look to some combination of changed laws, new technologies and evolved mores to fulfill it.

Whether sex workers and sex robots can actually deliver real fulfillment is another matter. But that they will eventually be asked to do it, in service to a redistributive goal that for now still seems creepy or misogynist or radical, feels pretty much inevitable.

So, for Douthat, the need to address and placate incels is important but we shouldn't do it with legalizing prostitution or other means.  What Douthat is really saying is, “If men cannot dominate and be in control of women, then any sexual solution won't be acceptable.  Not legalized prostitution. Not sex robots.  Nothing short of actual, real women being subservient to men will do.”

At no point in this entire article by Douthat are men held responsible for their beliefs, for their actions.  NOT ONE SINGLE FUCKING TIME! “Feminists” and “left-leaning” people are the real reason behind backward thinking, immoral. egotistical men for behaving the way they do towards women. GTFOH!

[futurejunglist]

Future Jungle Sessions #64 // 8K.NZ Radio // 17.04.2021

https://www.gwarden.net // https://linktr.ee/gwarden_nz 

LIVE on 8K.NZ ~ SAT 19:00 (NZST) // MON 00:00 // WED 05:00 // FRI 22:00

Streaming this week on 8K.NZ, the talents of Kiwi producers Chisel, Dose, Pirapus, and Lee Mvtthews, features from Degs, DLR, LSB/DRS ‘The Blue Hour (Reworked)’, Maykors, Mozey, Nectax, and Submorphics, plus vocal performances by Charlotte Haining, Jakes, Poppy Baskcomb, Danny Sanchez and Tyler Daley.

Bcee, Charlotte Haining - Remind Me (S.P.Y Remix) [Spearhead Records]

Geostatic - Conviction [Transparent Audio]

107 - Inattentive [Onyx Recordings]

Winslow, Degs - Demagogues [Soulvent Records]

Hidden Agenda - Chameleon (Stress Level & Ant TC1 Remix)[Remastered] [Dispatch Recordings]

Friske - Deeper Understanding [Requisite Music]

Ephyum, Invadhertz - Escapism [Dispatch Recordings]

Kleu - Know You (Something Something Remix) [Right Good Records]

Unknown Artist - Ms. Fat Booty [Fokuz Recordings]

Coda - Smoked Out [Natty Dub Recordings]

Enei, Jakes - Master Key [Critical Music]

DLR - Make My Mind Go [Sofa Sound]

The Sauce, Fox - Everything Boss [The Sauce Recordings]

Nymfo - Stone Cold [C.I.A.]

Break, DLR - City Slickers (Skeptical Remix) [Symmetry]

Nymfo - Everything Will Be [Dispatch Recordings]

Degs, EVIL B, De:Tune, Citrusfly - No Prisoners [Hospital Records]

BassBrothers, L-side, Haribo - Locked [Chronic]

Teej, Grimesy, T-Man - Quantum Leap (Teej Remix) [Nuusic]

Zoro, Jappa, Bish - LSD [Born On Road]

Maykors, Paul AF - Artengo [Impact Music]

Yatuza, Dunk - Amplified [Liondub International]

Waeys, Levela - The Devil [Critical Music]

Tomoyoshi - Soldier [Original Key Records]

Molecular, Objectiv - The Foundation [C4C Recordings]

DLR - Twisted [Sofa Sound]

Qua Rush, Enjoy - Seduction [Flight Pattern Records]

LSB/DRS - Frozen (Calibre remix) [Footnotes]

Radiax - Xingfu Lu [Skankandbass]

NOISY - 24/7 (High Contrast Remix) [Universal-Island Records Ltd.]

Motiv - When You're Around [Celsius Recordings]

Nectax - Beyond Stateless [Overview Music]

Dose - Time And Space [Huski Records]

Sikka - Alright [Formation Records]

Lenzman, Danny Sanchez - Gimmie a Sec [The North Quarter]

Submorphics - Infinite Void [The North Quarter]

LSB/DRS - Letting Go (FD remix) [Footnotes]

Exile, Mark XTC - Power [Random Concept Origins]

Mozey - Lady Petrol [Souped Up Records]

Picota & Kumbh - Give Me the Flow [Program]

Shy FX, Breakage, Break, Tyler Daley - I Got You (feat. Tyler Daley) [Digital Soundboy]

Unknown Artist - Big Poppa [Fokuz Recordings]

Submorphics, Ras Tweed - Guided by Venus [The North Quarter]

Heist, Diligent Fingers - Don't Need a Reason [Liquid Lab]

DSP - Don't Know [Symmetry Recordings]

Technimatic, Charlotte Haining - Still Miss You [Technimatic Music]

Zombie Cats - Let Go [Galacy Records]

Origin8a & Propa, Benny Page - Harmony (Lee Mvtthews Remix) [3Beat]

Friction, Poppy Baskcomb - Falling Down [Elevate Records]

Hystatus, Flower Rising - Another Day [Axon Records]

Temam - Mechanism [Delta9 Recordings]

Maykors - Halo (Moytra Remix) [Impact Music]

Surreal, Motiv - Smoke Dreams [Galacy Records]

Nia Archives - Headz Gone West [HIJINXX]

Nu:Logic - New Technique (Stay-C Remix) [Hospital Records]

L-side, MC GQ - Zaga Dan [V Recordings]

Monty, Icicle - SVP [1985 Music]

T>I, D*Minds - Pulling Teef [Critical Music]

Taxman - Utopia [Playaz Recordings]

Tony Anthem, Doktor - Tears Of Mine (Gunmen & Specimen A VIP Remix) [Fokuz Recordings]

GLM - Love Me [Incurzion Audio]

Dose - Live For The Pressure [Huski Records]

K Motionz, Simula - Flex [Drum&BassArena]

iZo Flight, Venuz Beats - Homeostasis [Hyperactivity Music]

Chisel - Delusions [SBK Recordings]

Pirapus, Christina Harrison - Need You Now (feat. Christina Harrison) [Dark Machine Recs]

M.I.S.T & High Contrast - 3am [Soul:R]

Surve - Hoverboard [Spearhead Records]

Nectax - Halogen (Myth Remix) [Overview Music]

Kenny Ken - Gimme Dat Roller [Formation Records]

Unglued - Crusty Rolls [Hospital Records]

Mozey, Current Value - Flirt [Souped Up Records]

LSB/DRS - Faded (Workforce remix) [Footnotes]

Logistics - Together [Hospital Records]

iZo Flight, Venuz Beats, T.R.A.C. - Worlds Away [Hyperactivity Music]

Submorphics, Phat Kat, Steo - Live With the Pain [The North Quarter]

Sub Focus, Wilkinson - Just Hold On (Sub Focus & Wilkinson vs. Pola & Bryson Remix) [Virgin EMI]

Degs, Pola & Bryson - Sleepless (Bladerunner Version) [Hospital Records]

[solo-bolo-trollo]

A COMPLETE LIST OF ALBUMS I LISTENED TO IN 2017

1.       Brian Eno—Reflection (2017)

2.       Joe Jackson & Friends—Heaven & Hell (1997)

3.       The KLF—Chill Out (1990)

4.       Run the Jewels—Run the Jewels 3 (2016)

5.       ESG—Come Away with ESG (1983)

6.       Pink Guy—Pink Season (2017)

7.       Madness—The Rise and Fall (1982)

8.       The xx—I See You (2017)

9.       The xx—xx (2009)

10.   Foxygen—Hang (2017)

11.   Shackleton and Vengeance Tenfold – Sferic Ghost Transmits (2017)

12.   André Previn, et. al—Jesus Christ Superstar (1973)

13.   Code Orange—Forever (2017)

14.   Neil Cicierega—Mouth Moods (2017)

15.   Migos—C U L T U R E (2017)

16.   Buscabulla—EP II (2017)

17.   Allison Crutchfield—Tourist in This Town (2017)

18.   Delicate Steve—This is Steve (2017)

19.   Daft Punk—Homework (1997)

20.   Homeshake—Fresh Air (2017)

21.   Sampha—Process (2017)

22.   MF Doom—Operation: Doomsday (1999)

23.   Tobin Sprout—The Universe and Me (2017)

24.   Syd—Fin (2017)

25.   Julie Byrne—Not Even Happiness (2017)

26.   The Weeknd—Starboy (2016)

27.   Sinkane—Life & Livin’ It (2017)

28.   William Basinski—A Shadow in Time (2017)

29.   Paul White and Danny Brown—Accelerator (EP) (2017)

30.   Metallica—Kill ‘Em All (1983)

31.   Nas—It Was Written (1996)

32.   Priests—Nothing Feels Natural (2017)

33.   Urochromes—Night Bully (EP) (2017)

34.   Yung Bae—Skyscraper Anonymous (2016)

35.   Ty Segall—Ty Segall (2017)

36.   nobigdyl. —Canopy (2017)

37.   Son Volt—Notes of Blue (2017)

38.   Jansport J—p h a r a o h (2017)

39.   Jens Lekman—Life Will See You Now (2017)

40.   Maggie Rogers—Now That the Light is Fading (EP) (2017)

41.   Erykah Badu—Baduizm (1997)

42.   Dirty Projectors—Dirty Projectors (2017)

43.   Future—FUTURE (2017)

44.   Sun Kil Moon—Common as Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood (2017)

45.   Future—HNDRXX (2017)

46.   Visible Cloaks—Reassemblage (2017)

47.   Barenaked Ladies—Born on a Pirate Ship (1996)

48.   Thundercat—Drunk (2017)

49.   Hand Habits—Wildly Idle (Humble Before the Void) (2017)

50.   Vagabon—Infinite Worlds (2017)

51.   Amnesia Scanner—AS Truth (2017)

52.   Mega Bog—Happy Together (2017)

53.   Lin Manuel-Miranda, et. al—In the Heights (2008)

54.   Chicano Batman—Freedom is Free (2017)

55.   The Mountain Goats—We Shall All Be Healed (2004)

56.   King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard—Flying Microtonal Banana (2017)

57.   Mark Scott—Death & All His Enemies (EP) (2017)

58.   Strand of Oaks—Hard Love (2017)

59.   The Magnetic Fields—50 Song Memoir (2017)

60.   DMX—It’s Dark and Hell is Hot (1998)

61.   Jay Som—Everybody Works (2017)

62.   The Shins—Heartworms (2017)

63.   Pauline Oliveros—Accordion & Voice (1982)

64.   Steve Lacy—Steve Lacy’s Demo (EP) (2017)

65.   Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever—The French Press (EP) (2017)

66.   Real Estate—In Mind (2017)

67.   Jansport J—Pharaohmatic Immunity (2017)

68.   Drake—More Life (2017)

69.   Temples—Volcano (2017)

70.   Anohni—Paradise (EP) (2017)

71.   Diamanda Galás—All the Way (2017)

72.   Kelly Lee Owens—Kelly Lee Owens (2017)

73.   Paul F. Tompkins—Laboring Under Delusions: Live in Brooklyn (2012)

74.   Tinariwen—Elwan (2017)

75.   Gorillaz—Gorillaz (2001)

76.   Hippo Campus—Landmark (2017)

77.   Black Sabbath—Master of Reality (1971)

78.   Liquid Liquid—Optimo (EP) (1983)

79.   Hurray for the Riff Raff—The Navigator (2017)

80.   Blanck Mass—World Eater (2017)

81.   Beastie Boys—Hello Nasty (1998)

82.   Diet Cig—Swear I’m Good at This (2017)

83.   Ibibio Sound Machine—Uyai (2017)

84.   Mount Eerie—A Crow Looked at Me (2017)

85.   Future Islands—The Far Field (2017)

86.   Boards of Canada—Music Has the Right to Children (1998)

87.   Father John Misty—Pure Comedy (2017)

88.   Glenn Gould—Bach: The Goldberg Variations (1956)

89.   Arca—Arca (2017)

90.   Sorority Noise—You’re Not As _____ As You Think (2017)

91.   Gas—Pop (2000)

92.   Kendrick Lamar—DAMN. (2017)

93.   Passion Pit—Tremendous Sea of Love (2017)

94.   Shamir—Hope (2017)

95.   Portishead—Dummy (1994)

96.   Tonstartssbandht—Sorcerer (2017)

97.   Dr. Dre—The Chronic (1992)

98.   Wiley—Godfather (2017)

99.   Parliament—Mothership Connection (1975)

100.           Sade—Diamond Life (1984)

101.           Charly Bliss—Guppy (2017)

102.           Iggy Pop—Lust for Life (1977)

103.           Kasey Zoned—Isolation (EP) (2017)

104.           Gorillaz—Humanz (2017)

105.           Mac DeMarco—This Old Dog (2017)

106.           Slowdive—Slowdive (2017)

107.           The Record Company—Give It Back to You (2016)

108.           Garth Brooks—No Fences (1990)

109.           Gas—Narkopop (2017)

110.           Girlpool—Powerplant (2017)

111.           Perfume Genius—No Shape (2017)

112.           Marty Robbins—Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs (1959)

113.           The Mavericks—Brand New Day (2017)

114.           Dave Malloy, et. al—Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (2013)

115.           The Mountain Goats—Goths (2017)

116.           Temple of the Dog—Temple of the Dog (1991)

117.           Soundgarden—Badmotorfinger (1991)

118.           Burial—Subtemple (EP) (2017)

119.           Angelo Badalamenti—Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992)

120.           Death Grips—Steroids (Crouching Tiger Hidden Gabber) (EP) (2017)

121.           Various artists—Lost Highway (1997)

122.           Throbbing Gristle—20 Jazz Funk Greats (1979)

123.           Lil Yachty—Teenage Emotions (2017)

124.           Phish—Junta (1989)

125.           Talaboman—The Night Land (2017)

126.           (Sandy) Alex G—Rocket (2017)

127.           Burzum—Filosofem (1996)

128.           Sleater-Kinney—Live in Paris (2017)

129.           Power Trip—Nightmare Logic (2017)

130.           Sam Gellaitry—Escapism III (EP) (2017)

131.           The Cranberries—Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? (1993)

132.           Bing & Ruth—No Home of the Mind (2017)

133.           Luxoddo Menatti—Climbing Through Clockwork (EP) (2017)

134.           Fleet Foxes—Crack-Up (2017)

135.           Cashmere Cat—9 (2017)

136.           Johnny Jewel—Windswept (2017)

137.           Ice Cube—Death Certificate (1991)

138.           Why?—Moh Llean (2017)

139.           Goldie—The Journey Man (2017)

140.           Lorde—Melodrama (2017)

141.           Sufjan Stevens, Nico Muhly, Bryce Dessner and James McAlister—Planetarium (2017)

142.           SZA—Ctrl (2017)

143.           Calvin Harris—Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 (2017)

144.           Washed Out—Mister Mellow (2017)

145.           Vince Staples—Big Fish Theory (2017)

146.           JAY-Z—4:44 (2017)

147.           Haim—Something to Tell You (2017)

148.           Moon Diagrams—Lifetime of Love (2017)

149.           Various artists—Baby Driver (Music from the Motion Picture) (2017)

150.           Offa Rex—The Queen of Hearts (2017)

151.           Tyler, the Creator—Flower Boy (2017)

152.           Timecop—You Can’t Go Back From Where You Are Right Now (EP) (2017)

153.           Waxahatchee—Out in the Storm (2017)

154.           DJ Sports—Modern Species (2017)

155.           Ryan Adams—Prisoner (2017)

156.           Guided by Voices—August by Cake (2017)

157.           Paramore—After Laughter (2017)

158.           Cigarettes After Sex—Cigarettes After Sex (2017)

159.           Randy Newman—Dark Matter (2017)

160.           Kesha—Rainbow (2017)

161.           The War on Drugs—A Deeper Understanding (2017)

162.           Rezz—Mass Manipulation (2017)

163.           Liza Minnelli—Results (1989)

164.           Various artists—Twin Peaks (Music from the Limited Event Series) (2017)

165.           Various artists—Twin Peaks (Limited Event Series Original Soundtrack) (2017)

166.           Iron and Wine—Beast Epic (2017)

167.           Com Truise—Iteration (2017)

168.           Godspeed You! Black Emperor—Luciferian Towers (2017)

169.           BROCKHAMPTON—Saturation (2017)

170.           LCD Soundsystem—american dream (2017)

171.           Arcade Fire—Everything Now (2017)

172.           Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives—Way Out West (2017)

173.           Clark—Death Peak (2017)

174.           Bill Murray, Jan Vogler and Friends—New Worlds (2017)

175.           Aimee Mann—Mental Illness (2017)

176.           The Mountain Goats—Marsh Witch Visions (EP) (2017)

177.           Moses Sumney—Aromanticism (2017)

178.           St. Vincent—MASSEDUCTION (2017)

179.           Nina Simone—I Put a Spell on You (1965)

180.           Kamasi Washington—Harmony of Difference (EP) (2017)

181.           Extreme—Extreme II: Pornograffitti (1990)

182.           Timecop—Diocesan Howler (EP) (2017)

183.           Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile—Lotta Sea Lice (2017)

184.           Vangelis—Blade Runner (1982)

185.           Julien Baker—Turn Out the Lights (2017)

186.           Sam Smith—The Thrill of It All (2017)

187.           Alvvays—Antisocialites (2017)

188.           Björk—Utopia (2017)

189.           Charlotte Gainsbourg—Rest (2017)

190.           King Krule—The OOZ (2017)

191.           R.E.M.—Live at the 40 Watt Club 11/19/92 (1992)

192.           Kelela—Take Me Apart (2017)

193.           10,000 Maniacs—MTV Unplugged (1993)

194.           Sylvan Esso—What Now (2017)

195.           Beck—Colors (2017)

196.           Amber Coffman—City of No Reply (2017)

197.           Guided by Voices—How Do You Spell Heaven (2017)

198.           Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings—Soul of a Woman (2017)

199.           10,000 Maniacs—Our Time in Eden (1992)

[mi4015sophierennison]

Heterotopia

During a lecture in 1967 to a group of architects, Michel Foucault coined the new term ‘heterotopia’ and outlined the main elements of this new concept. As a French philosopher, social theorist and literary critic, Foucault’s main theories include ideas on power and control and how they influence social control, however, he is most well known for his discussions about heterotopias and how they function in our society.

So, what is a heterotopia? Heterotopias are spaces that are explained as somehow being ‘other’; worlds within worlds, mirroring yet upsetting what is outside them (‘Heterotopia (Space)’, 2019). They are hard to completely define and can arise in many places and for different reasons. These spaces are in relation to those other spaces around it, but ‘in such a way as to suspect, neutralise, or invert the set of relations they happen to designate’ (Foucault, M., 1967). They are real yet unreal simultaneously. Foucault explains the nature of utopias stating they are perfected forms of society but are fundamentally unreal places. He then relates this to the idea of heterotopias as ‘counter-sites, a kind of effectively enacted utopia’ and between these two spaces, utopias and heterotopias, there is a ‘mixed, joint experience’ (Foucault, M., 1967) that acts as the mirror in which we see the skewed societal reflection that these heterotopic spaces offer.

In an attempt to begin to define these ‘other’ spaces, Foucault described six principles that give a loose set of guidelines as to what is a heterotopia and what is not. The first outlines how they can become ‘established in all cultures but in diverse forms’ (Johnson, P., 2018). Within the lecture it is explained in ‘primitive’ societies a form of heterotopia exists Foucault named ‘crisis heterotopias’ which are described as spaces of privilege or of a sacred nature that are implicitly reserved for individuals who are in a state of crisis. However, these places of disaster are rapidly being replaced by heterotopias of deviation examples of which include prisons, psychiatric wards and interestingly retirement homes that offer a unique blend of heterotopic crisis and social deviation through idleness. The second principle follows from this idea and states that the function and specific operation of heterotopias mutate and change over time.                            The third can be explained through the heterotopia of a garden. The idea that these spaces juxtapose in one place several, normally incompatible spatial elements which Foucault described as the garden being ‘the smallest parcel of the world and then the totality of the world’ (Foucault, M., 1967). Relating to the second principle, the fourth explains more about the heterotopia’s relation to time and how they encapsulate spatio-temporal discontinuities and intensities. They are slices in time Foucault calls heterochronies. He gives two opposing examples to illustrate this; the first is the accumulation of time in the heterotopic spaces of museums and the other is a fairground and how that time seems to start and stop, constantly flowing with the coming and going of people (Foucault, M., 1967). The fifth explains the presupposed ambivalent systems of entry and exit that heterotopias possess and the last that these spaces have a ‘specific operation in relation to other spaces’ (Johnson, P., 2018).

Heterotopias are a fascinating area of study that many designers, artists and architects have explored. Travis McEwen, an artist who had an exhibition titled ‘The Arch: Plans for a Heterotopic Space Opera’, described heterotopias of a digital era to be ‘a way peripheral people sort of inhabit the larger world’ in a community occupying this digital space but not necessarily in physical proximity (Boissonneault, S., 2017). I like this idea of looking at heterotopias no longer in a physical plane but as intangible spaces we create on the modern platforms of communication. Real conversations on an ‘unreal’ stage. To further explore Foucault’s ideas of heterotopic spaces I need to get my own examples. This will help me to understand how they differ from simply obscure or emotional places and allow me to begin thinking about my next steps within this project.

Boissonneault, S. (2017) Heterotopic Space Opera, Available at: https://www.vueweekly.com/heterotopic-space-opera/ Accessed: 18 February 2019

Dehaene, M., De Cauter, L. (eds.) (2008) Heterotopia and the City, London and New York: Routledge

Foucault, M. (1967) ‘Des Espaces Autres’, Architecture/Mouvement/Continuité, vol. 5, (1984) (trans. Miskowiec, J.), Available at: https://foucault.info/documents/heterotopia/foucault.heteroTopia.en/ Accessed: 18 February 2019

‘Heterotopia (Space)’ (2019) Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heterotopia_(space) Accessed: 18 February 2019

Johnson,P. (2015) ‘Foucault and Heterotopian Art’ Available at: http://www.heterotopiastudies.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/Foucault-and-Heterotopian-Art-pdf.pdf Accessed: 18 February 2019

Johnson, P. (2018) Heterotopian Studies: Michel Foucault’s Ideas on Heterotopia, Available at: http://www.heterotopiastudies.com/?doing_wp_cron=1550410510.8376569747924804687500 Accessed: 18 February 2019

‘Michel Foucault’ (2019) Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michel_Foucault Accessed: 18 February 2019

Ritter, R., Knaller-Vlay, B. (eds.) (1998) Other Spaces: The Affair of Heterotopia, Graz: Haus des Architektur

[hmhteen]

HMH Teen Teaser: WITCHTOWN, by Cory Putman Oakes!

Guess what: Witches are real, and they’re just like us! Want something a bit witchy to read on the beach this summer? Look no further than WITCHTOWN, a new YA novel coming from @hmhteen in July! WITCHTOWN has it all: a girl with a dark past she’s trying to escape, a forbidden romance, witchcraft, and of course, a heist gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Read the first two chapters of this paranormal-tinged YA below!

A MODERN WITCH’S PRIMER

Chapter 1

Havens in Historical Context

Near the beginning of this century, with occultism on the rise around the world, a whistleblower from within the pagan community exposed a secret that had long been protected by witches everywhere. The secret was that in addition to Learned witches, ordinary individuals who studied pagan practices and who could, with practice, learn to channel a small amount of power for their rituals, there were also so-called Natural witches, people who possessed a tremendous amount of inborn power and who required little or no formal training to wield it.

In response to the public outcry over this “unregulated threat to public safety,” the United States government instituted a National Witch Registry and required all Natural witches, under pain of imprisonment, to submit their name, city of residence, and place of employment to a publicly searchable database.

There was a good faith movement within the Natural witch community to comply with this registry.

Over the next few years, in what would eventually become known as the Second Inquisition, the witches who volunteered their identities were systemically ostracized from their social circles, became unable to retain jobs, and in some cases, were hunted down and abducted by private-citizen “safety brigades.” The runaway bestseller The Inquisitor’s Handbook provided these groups with instructions (mostly badly translated from a sixteenth- century copy of Malleus Maleficarum, a.k.a. The Witch’s Hammer) as to the proper method of torture and execution of witches. Law enforcement was slow to recognize these atrocities as hate crimes and generally lackadaisical in its prosecution of the perpetrators. The government’s solution was to seize small parcels of (mostly undesirable) land around the country in order to estab- lish witch-only communities known as Havens. This, it was argued, would remove the threat to public safety and the temptation for hate crimes, while allowing both Learned and Natural witches to live among their own kind, keep their traditions alive, and practice magic in safety.

The greatest of these Havens was a private township created by the late billionaire insurance magnate Reginald Harris, one of the richest and most influential men in the United States and, until his final years, an unregistered Natural witch. Unlike the small, poor, mostly rural communities that established themselves in most of the government-funded Havens, Harris’s town, deep in America’s heartland, was intended to be a pagan utopia: a model of green building, spiritual enlightenment, and, above all, magical living.

It was called Witchtown.

***

CHAPTER ONE

Witchtown looked more like a prison than a town.

For one thing, it was surrounded on all sides by a three- story wall. The massive structure was overgrown with ivy and moss, but when we got within a few hundred yards, I could see plenty of places where ugly, manmade concrete was peeking through the greenery. The walls were sloped at a steep angle, probably to prevent people from climbing them. That thought brought on unwelcome images of invaders scaling the slippery, mossy surface, armed and planning to inflict untold horror on the people — the witches — inside . . .

I chased the thought away.

Those times are over, I reminded myself. For the most part.

She pulled over right beside the sign.

burn in hell was spray-painted diagonally right across its face, in red. Below that, the phrases satan’s spawn and exodus 22:18 were carved into its surface. The usual anti- witch slurs. Not particularly original. But once I managed to squint my way through all of that, the original lettering on the sign erased any remaining doubt I might have had about our destination:

 WITCHTOWN

POPULATION 402 BLESSED BE!

I straightened up a little and looked across the front seat at my mother.

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

My mother sipped her coffee and didn’t respond right away. After days of near-total silence in the car, my words felt uncomfortably loud, even to my own ears. I wasn’t sure how long our stalemate had lasted. It’s hard to define days based on rest-stop bathrooms and drive-through meals.

She took several more leisurely swallows of coffee. Then she asked, “Why would you think I was kidding?”

“You think now is a good time for this? Now? After eve- rything . . .” I cringed. Even just that little bit of talking had distracted me. Caused me to let my guard down. And the sink- hole of pain I had been keeping at bay reopened itself inside my chest. It felt bigger. Like it had grown stronger. It grabbed me now with an intensity that made it difficult to breathe.

“That’s all behind us now,” my mother said, but I barely heard her.

Too soon. Too soon for reality.

I had to shut it down. I abandoned the conversation, closed my eyes, and sank back down into the passenger seat. I felt for my weathered leather jacket, which I had been using as a blan- ket, and found it on the car floor. I picked it up and covered myself in it, trying to ignore everything but its familiar scents of sage and something else, something even earthier than sage, as I tried to lull myself back into my silent, senseless cocoon.

Oblivion. Oblivion. Take me away . . .

But a hard tug on the jacket brought me back to the here and now. To my mother, glaring down at me with disapproval.

“It’s in the past,” she insisted.

I jerked the coat out of her hand and turned my face to- ward the window.

“Not for me.”

A harder yank pulled the leather from my grip entirely. I sat up in protest. My mother gave the garment a disgusted look and tossed it down at my feet.

“Let it go,” she commanded. Then she added pointedly, “You know you’re the only one dwelling on it, don’t you?”

I bit my lip. That was true enough. But it didn’t make the hurt any less.

The thought brought on a new squeeze of pain, a new struggle to breathe. I retrieved the jacket from the floor again, settled my head against the back of the seat, and closed my eyes.

My mother sighed. “Fine. Have it your way,” she huffed, and I heard her door open. A gust of cinnamon-scented air flew up my nostrils as she exited the car.

After a moment, I opened my eyes.

The annoying thing was I knew, I knew, I was going to follow her out of the car. I could feel it now: the quiet, per- sistent, unshakable pull she had on me. Calling me after her. Forcing me to see things her way.

I burrowed my nose into the soft lining of the coat, mak- ing one last attempt to hold on to my anger. Part of me wanted to believe that every second I stayed mad at her would give me a tiny bit more power. Which was nonsense. I had never had any kind of power over my mother.

Nobody had.

I left the jacket on the seat when I went after her.

She had popped open the trunk and unzipped the top suitcase. I leaned against the bumper and watched as she rooted through a messy pile of clothes.

“Here, hold this.”

She tossed something black and strappy at me. I caught it, instantly wishing I had just let it fall into the dirt instead.

With only a quick glance at the empty road beside us, she stripped off her T-shirt and jeans. She exchanged her flip-flops for the heels, one foot at a time, gripping one of my shoulders for balance. The blue-gray moonstone she wore on a chain around her neck caught the light of the setting sun as she fumbled with the delicate straps on the shoes.

She caught me looking at her necklace, and gestured pointedly at the matching one around my neck.

“Haven’t I always protected you?” she asked. “Hasn’t it always been you and me?”

I took a breath instead of answering. Separately, those two statements were accurate. But together, they seemed to mean something more. Something that wasn’t quite true.

She slipped the dress over her tall, slim body, pulled the clip out of her hair, and shook out the ashy blond strands un- til they bounced, wavy and alive, against her shoulders. You wouldn’t have known she’d been in a car for days.

I was wearing severely rumpled jeans and a tank top. Neither of us suggested that I change. Or do anything with my own long, dirty blond hair, which was piled in a greasy knot on the top of my head. I could only imagine how I looked, next to her.

“We’re not ready for this,” I said.

She put one hand on each of my shoulders. We were the same height, but now that she was in heels, I had to crane my neck up slightly to make eye contact.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you what this place means to us,” my mother said quietly. “Look at it.”

I looked. And when I did, I saw a cluster of buildings, so carefully tucked into the shadow of the Witchtown wall that I hadn’t noticed them before. The structures looked temporary— tents, shacks, and old RVs. They gave me the creeps. Even more than the wall did.

“This is it,” my mother continued. “Everything we’ve ever wanted, ever dreamed of, is inside those walls. We are this close.”

She let go of one shoulder and grabbed my chin.

“But you have to pull yourself together. Right now. Or we haven’t got a prayer. Understand?”

I nodded, more to show her I was listening than anything else. If she chose to take that as a sign that I agreed with her, that was her problem.

She tightened her hand, squeezing my jaw to the point of pain.

“I did it for you,” she said evenly, moving her hands so they were on either side of my face. “You know that, right?”

I flinched. I was still one big, open wound. Hearing her talk like that, in that casual way of hers, was too much to bear. I glared at her. I had seen my mother’s glare many times before. It was beautiful. And terrible. It could make things,

and people (myself included), wilt under its power.

My glare was nothing like that. But I was surprised to dis- cover it had a small effect on her; she dropped her hands from my face and took a step back.

“Too soon,” she muttered to herself, and went back to the driver’s-side door.

I walked back to the passenger door, feeling like I had won a tiny victory. I had made it clear that this time, this pain, was not something she could just breeze past, the way she did with most things.

And yet, even with my small triumph, she had still man- aged to get the better of me. Here I was, getting back in the car. Without an argument. Just like she wanted.

I twirled my moonstone around my finger. Witchtown. 

***

CHAPTER TWO

 The road led us to a large gate in the northernmost part of the wall. The sun had started to set, and the harsh lights on top of the gate shone down on a half-dozen men in black fa- tigues, carrying machine guns.

Private security. Forget prison. Witchtown was a fortress. Reginald Harris had seen to that when he mapped out the place. I had heard enough stories about the guy to know he had been a nutcase about security.

One of the guards had a vicious-looking German shep- herd on a leash. I was too busy watching the dog sniff every inch of our car to hear what my mother said that caused the guards to fall back and the enormous metal gate to open.

We were soon surrounded on all sides by trees, but not before I caught a glimpse of what looked like farm fields. It was hard to tell for sure, as the sun was almost completely gone and the thick trees were blotting out most of the light.

The road changed from dirt to bumpy cobblestones as we approached what I was tempted to call the town square, except it was in the shape of a circle. The space was sur- rounded by a ring of whitewashed buildings with dark, ex- posed beams and thatched roofs. My mother pulled the car up in front of one that looked like all the others. The shin- gle hanging off the front read mayor’s office in quaint lettering.

A smaller shingle underneath said witchtown real estate.

“We��re here,” she said, unnecessarily. She turned the igni- tion off and grabbed my left hand hard so I couldn’t yank it away.

With her free hand she reached up to touch the headless, toga-clad statuette that was hanging from our rearview mirror. “Laverna, bless us,” she said to the figurine, then looked

at me expectantly.

I muttered the same words and reached up with my free hand to brush my fingers against the Goddess. She was mar- ble, but she was never cool to the touch the way marble was supposed to be. She was always kind of warm. Like skin.

I pulled my hand back from the statuette as soon as my mother dropped hers.

She opened her car door and gestured toward the almost- empty coffee cup in the holder between us. I handed her the cup. With her right hand still grasping my left hand, she poured three drops of the leftover coffee onto the ground.

“Darkness and clouds,” my mother said, and squeezed my hand once before letting it go. She unhooked the small fig- ure from the mirror and tucked Laverna carefully into the side pocket of her purse.

The Witchtown Real Estate office was still open. At the door, we were confronted by a woman with frizzy red hair, a skintight pencil skirt, and a slightly panicked expression.

“I’m sorry, but there must have been some kind of mis- take,” she said bluntly, positioning herself so that we could step just inside the door but no farther.

My mother frowned. “Oh?”

The frazzled woman held up her hand; her fingers were clenched around a cell phone.

“The guards called to say they let you in, but they must have been mistaken.” She glanced out the office window at our dusty green Volkswagen and bit her lip. “We have no openings at the moment. My apologies, but I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

The door to an inner office opened behind her and an- other woman emerged. She was shorter than the frizzy-haired woman, but I could see she had ten times more gravity. She was wearing a tailored skirt suit and heels. Her white-blond hair, which was cut short, contrasted sharply with the deep olive color of her skin, and she had the slightly distracted ex- pression of someone thinking about too many things at once.

She took in the scene before her and raised an eyebrow at Frizz.

“Lois?” she asked.

“Handled!” Frizz assured the woman, who had to be her boss.

The blonde nodded absently.

Lois flashed us a falsely bright smile. “I’m so sorry for the mix-up. If you’d like to fill out an online application, you’ll be entered into the lottery with the other applicants and con- tacted in due course.”

She gestured behind us, obviously indicating that we should leave.

Instead, my mother braced herself against the side of the door so her right hand was at eye level, her knuckles facing the room.

“I see,” she said, smiling, as though she was not put off in the least by Lois’s rudeness. “And do you have something I might use to write down the website address? I have a terrible memory for such things.”

She drummed her fingers against the door frame. The gesture was lost on Lois, who turned to rifle through some loose papers on the desk as she presumably searched for a pen. But Lois’s boss paused at the threshold of the inner-office door, her eyes fixed on my mother’s hand.

Or, more precisely, on her silver ring.

It wasn’t a very flashy ring. It wasn’t even very attractive. It was just several strands of silver woven together into an in- tricate double knot the exact shape of two tangled-up infinity symbols. But it was enough to make the blonde in the suit stop in her tracks.

She exchanged a brief look with my mother and tossed a file on the desk, right under Lois’s nose.

Lois jumped.

“I’ve got this,” the suit told her curtly. “Take a break.” “But — but I was just —”

“Break, Lois. Now.”

Lois bowed her head and skittered backwards, toward a smaller desk on the other side of the office.

The blonde strode forward and put her hand out to my mother.

She introduced herself. “Brooke Bainbridge. Mayor of Witchtown.”

“Aubra O’Sullivan,” my mother said, taking the offered hand and shaking it. “This is my daughter, Macie.”

“Nice to meet you, Macie.” The mayor shook my hand too and then gestured to a waiting area with an uncomfort- able-looking couch and several armchairs.

I made a beeline for one of the armchairs, but my mother cleared her throat, sat down gracefully on the couch, and pat- ted the cushion next to her.

You and me, her eyes reminded me. You and me.

I gritted my teeth and sat down beside her, as the mayor took the armchair closest to my mother’s side of the couch.

“Please forgive my assistant,” the mayor said, picking up a clipboard. “She was rather hasty. I’m sure we’ll be able to accommodate you and your daughter. Let me just take you through a few lifestyle questions . . . Yes, here we are. Which pagan tradition do you practice?”

“We’re Eclectic, for the most part,” my mother answered. “Mainly Northern European traditions. Some Greek and Roman. Smattering of Egyptian.”

The mayor checked several boxes on the form.

“And how long have you identified yourself as a witch, Aubra?”

“All my life,” my mother answered patiently. She tapped her ring, which caused the mayor to give her an embarrassed smile.

“Of course. My apologies. I’m just so used to interview- ing Learned witches.”

“Oh?” my mother raised an eyebrow. “There are no other Naturals here?”

“Well, we do have one,” the mayor said, with a grimace. “But she’s quite old, I’m afraid, and not quite all there, if you know what I mean. She doesn’t practice anymore.”

“I see,” my mother said, and she was sitting close enough to me that I could actually feel her tense up and then relax.

“You’d be the only true Natural in town,” the mayor said, and then glanced over at me. “Unless Macie . . .”

She trailed off as her gaze fell to the fingers of my right hand. I tucked my naked digits self-consciously underneath my leg.

“No,” my mother cut in. “Macie is not a Natural.”

“Shame,” the mayor muttered to herself as she checked the box marked “Learned” next to where she had written my name. I did not correct her.

There was no box on the mayor’s form for what I was. If she knew the truth, we wouldn’t all be sitting around, bother- ing with paperwork.

But she didn’t know, so she continued on in a cheery kind of a way.

“How old are you, Macie dear?” “Sixteen,” I answered.

“And how long have you been a Learned witch?”

“I’ve been teaching her since birth,” my mother jumped in, before I could respond. “Macie is a very gifted herbalist.”

That, at least, was true. The herbalist part. Not the teach- ing part. My mother didn’t know a comfrey from a clover. I was entirely self-taught, and proud of it, but now didn’t seem like the best time to point that out.

“And have you previously lived in a Haven of any kind?” “Yes,” my mother replied. “Several.”

“I see. Where?”

“Here and there,” my mother smiled and then sat forward, her eyes full of secrets. “Let me be honest with you, Madame Mayor —”

“Brooke, please,” the mayor insisted.

My mother kept smiling. It looked predatory to me, but it must have seemed friendly to the mayor because she leaned in closer as my mother continued.

“My husband was killed in the Second Inquisition. Since his death, my daughter and I have found it necessary to move around quite a bit. I am unregistered, you see. I hope that isn’t a problem?”

“Oh, no,” the mayor assured her. “We don’t discriminate here.”

The mayor’s voice was calm, but her eyes were dart- ing back and forth excitedly. I could practically see her go- ing down her mental checklist, ticking off the categories my mother could fill for her.

Widow of a martyr. Devoted mother. Natural.

My mother was a gold mine for any Haven. A catch.

I, for one, was stuck back at my mother’s mention of a hus- band. That was a new one. I was fairly certain that my mother had never been married to my father. Not that we had ever dis- cussed the subject at any length. All I had been told about my father was that he left. And it had been made clear to me that asking any more questions would not be tolerated.

“Macie and I both feel that we have been on the road for long enough,” my mother went on. “We are looking for some- where to settle permanently.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” the mayor said, with a smile. “Just a few more questions. What level of formal education do you have, Aubra?”

“I have a master’s degree in accounting,” my mother re- plied. “And I’m a certified public accountant.”

Unbelievably, that was true.

The mayor raised an eyebrow.

“That will come in handy,” she said, mostly to herself. It always did. Even witches need accountants.

“Any dietary restrictions?” the mayor asked.

“Macie and I are committed raw vegans,” my mother told her, and I was barely able to hide my groan. “We believe in putting our spiritual needs above our physical ones.”

“That is very dedicated of you,” Mayor Bainbridge said admiringly, then capped her pen and turned the clipboard over in her lap. “Well, I am happy to tell you that by lucky co- incidence, we have a need for an accountant. Our previous one left us rather abruptly . . .” Her words trailed off and she made a face, but pulled herself together quickly. “I can offer you his residence. It’s a one-bedroom apartment. Will that be suffi- cient for the time being, until something bigger opens up?”

“That will be lovely,” my mother said, and I saw a flash of a triumphant grin behind her appropriately grateful smile.

A blur of signatures and forms later, the mayor walked us down the street. She whisked us through a lobby, mentioned something about an initiation ritual tomorrow, and opened the front door of our new apartment with a flourish.

“Welcome home!” she said grandly.

I managed only a weak smile in return. Because I knew that we hadn’t come to make Witchtown our home.

We had come to rob it.

                                                      ***

Cliffhanger alert! If you want to know what happens to Witchtown, pre-order it at the links below!

Amazon Barnes & Noble Books-a-MillionHudson IndieBound Powell’s

[kanthia]

You know that post you reblogged about living in the giant Costco? What book is the paragraph you added from?

listen. i have not finished the book, and the nyquil is just kicking in, so.i faithfully watched tyra banks’ slow decline from Successful Model to Kooky Reality TV Personality over twenty-odd seasons of antm, and by the time she wrote modelland she firmly had her head shoved up her own ass. it is the most obviously not ghost written book ever but i’m not sure if that’s a plus.imagine a Kooky Reality TV Pesronality read Mallory Ortberg’s It’s A Bunch of Years After The War And Everything Is Different and was like, oh, yes, that is precisely how you write a bestseller, except minus the war maybe. Modelland accidentally takes place in the most horrifying dystopia since Brave New World if only because tyra seems to have been trying her zestiest to write a utopia.so we’re introdced to our protagonist, tookie de la creme, at high school. she lives in a desert and goes to school in a re-purposed sulfur mine or purse factory or something but the ventilation isn’t great. she’s lying on the floor spraying whipped cream into her mouth because she’s So Forgettable, which is a shame because Thing Day is coming up, where scouts from Magical Model Hogwarts come to take the most fashionable of them away from their futures working in salt mines

tookie’s little sister myrracle de la creme is way better than her at everything and has also started menstruating first and by god does this book have an obsession with menstruation. tookie’s mother creamy de la creme has a horrible wrinkled face and her father is a circus man who was injured in a horrible accident that creamy may have caused (she blinded him with a compact mirror and made him fall, but he stuck the landing, and then speared himself in the face while taking a bow) and thinks tookie isn’t his, so the day after Thing Day (it’s called The Day of Discover, or TDOD for short. tyra is very obsessed with acronyms) he’s going to take her toothbrush to the DNA Man and get her sent to the salt mines. oh no!! also their house is a sprawling vista held together with duct tape.the day before TDOD they go shopping at a Very Big Mall and while they’re in the parking lot there’s an announcement from Magical Model Hogwarts that the top seven graduates have been selected. each one gets a superpower: being able to do three poses at once, being able to change her hair or eye shape, being able to teleport and also having good senses, knowing next year’s styles ahead of time, being Very Sexy, when she turns 30 her body will look 17 again and then she’ll age up to 30 and then repeat this cycle until she dies, and Making People Want To Buy Stuff. each one has a very stupid name. they’re called the 7Sevens I think and every year there’s supposed to be a 7Seven7 or whatever who has all seven powers at once but she’s gone missing and also her name is Ci~L. the powers have names like ExciteToBuy and Seduksheeon and the girls have names like Katoocha and Bev Jo 

everyone in this book is so fucking obsessed with fashion. on TDOD everyone is fucking losing their minds, beating the shit out of each other trying to get scouts’ attention by doing a very good model walk. also there are these things called SMIZEs that show up in the weeks leading up to TDOD and they show up in water so everyone wastes water and there are water shortages and did I mention that Protagonist lives in the fucking desert? there’s a scene where some girls beat the shit out of each other in a drainage ditch for a SMIZE and like six are hospitalized and i think it was meant to be cute and quirky

oh also every country is sort of there. the US is MeTopia and it’s divided into four parts: Hot (where tookie lives), Cold, Rainy, and Wealthy People. italy is Cappucino. india is Karma. australia is Digeridoo. Tyra couldn’t bother with scandanavia so they’re just mashed together into NorDenSwe. Canada is Canne Del Abra and they make the world’s supply of candles. Boo-Big-Tique, the Country That Is Literally One Costco, is where all the terrible African-American stereotypes live.

anyways tookie gets Chosen on Thing Day of course and four other girls end up in her magical teleporting gossamer bag: Dylan from Boo-Big-Tique, Shiraz Shiraz the seven foot tall Canadian (Canadian language is Tyra clicking “insert symbol” and keysmashing every vowel with an umlaut), and an albino named piper from a colourless city where everyone is smart and they also get devoured by horrible beasts if they leave the city.

people who don’t get picked on Thing Day get a horrible disease where they’re compelled to walk to Magical Model Hogwarts and get eaten by grues I think, or maybe they die of chicken pox along the way. we’re told that pilgrim plague is worse than the bubonic plague.

so they get to modelland and tookie’s nemesis is there obviously. tookie’s nemesis is a rich person who might not be rich whose boyfriend is the dude tookie loves. they go through Thigh High Boot Camp where their faces get eaten off to teach them not to share makeup brushes and their purses eat them to teach them not to buy buy knockoffs except that in this world every accessory is made in the salt mines by child slaves I think. also tookie had a friend with scizophrenia who’s on the run from the hospital that we’re told is worse than the prisons where people die. some girls go home after boot camp because i guess life in the salt mines is better than life at Modelland. the buildings are the letters and D is the dorms. there are zippers that teleport them and Ci~L is there whipping herself and dropping slam poems and they take a class where they’re forced to eat until they puke and the times are announced in colours. male models are called Bestosterones and they are just there to be accessories. everyone gets their period on the first night, including tookie, where they sleep on invisible beds. tookie can speak every language. 

anyways on their way to lunch they go through a spa where three girls can transport them into their memories and that’s everything i can remember up to page 270. there are 579 pages edited down from 1000. tookie and ci~l are both self-inserts. tyra banks fucking hates actresses.

anyways i give it 2.5/5 if only because I wish I could Arrival this shit and give it both a 0 and a 5 simultaneously because it’s so aggressively bad and also so aggressively entertaining

please do not read this book if you are squicked by self-harm, menstruation, vore, institutionalizations, graphic depictions of food, or the way a Kooky Reality TV Personality might write a race conflict if her only interaction with race conflict over the last ten years has been editing a reality TV competition for moments where the white girl says “but my best friend is black”

[miriamgrace25]

By Fr. Johannes L. Jacobse

This essay is part of a series examining how American religious, economic, and political freedom are compatible with Christian views of a good society. It was provoked by the publication of the Tradinista Manifesto, which called for “Christian socialism” and an established national Church.

The Tradinistas (Traditionalist + Sandinista) make up a new “movement” of mostly young Catholics who drank the heady wine of Marx, and believe that his economics is the wave of the future. The attraction is the same that seduces all devotees of the now discredited ideology: the promise of a just society free of material deprivation and exploitation of the weak.

You would think defending Marx in any place but an American university would be next to impossible, but the Tradinistas are determined to try. In an essay titled “St. Marx and the Dragon” (where Marx is presented as a biblical exegete, the Dragon as capitalism), the Tradinistas declare that Marx’s economic theories should be “subjected to the holy mysteries and authority of the Church.” Money (capital) is Mammon and “all have been seared with trade,” they write. Like Marx, the Tradinistas believe that the “Beast” of Revelation is actually money/Mammon, thus those that fight against capital do the work of God. “Mammon is ascendent in the form of global capitalism and it desires the worship due to God alone,” they argue

Marx, if not yet a saint, should at least be a Father of the Church, if the Tradinistas had their way. And while the ideology of globalism is a threat to community and liberty, Marxist dogma is hardly the solution. Marxism has failed everywhere it has been tried. In many cases it unleashed evils that spilled forth rivers of blood. Yet the attraction doesn’t dim. Why is that? What is it about Marx that holds the minds of men in such paralyzing thrall — in such deep ideological inebriation — that even the voices of those murdered by the violence unleashed time and again by this barbarous ideology cannot penetrate it?

Abortion: The Fly in the Ointment

A clue lies in the Tradinista Manifesto itself. Most of the manifesto reads like the usual anti-capitalist screeds that the left routinely spits out like paper in a copy machine. Declaration #13 however stands out: “Abortion is a horrifying crime which much be eradicated immediately.”

That’s a contradiction. The value of the unborn, which the Tradinistas rightly affirm, cannot be reconciled with Marxist dogma. The Tradinistas don’t understand Marx. They don’t see that if they adopt his dogma, the ground for defending the unborn and ultimately all human life will dissolve beneath their feet.

The Tradinistas don’t comprehend who Marx was, or that his economics are derived from his desire to stamp out religion and not the other way around. The Tradinistas don’t see the contradiction because they don’t understand the materialist ground (man is matter, no soul exists) of Marxist ideology. They don’t comprehend who Marx was, or that his economics are derived from his desire to stamp out religion and not the other way around. The antidote to their ignorance is found in history, in the words of men wiser than ourselves, who experienced the Marxist horrors firsthand and understood why the promises of Marxist justice are so intoxicating.

Voices from the Red Empire

In 1906 Sergei Bulgakov published Karl Marx as a Religious Type. Bulgakov came from a long line of Orthodox priests, but abandoned his Orthodox faith in college to embrace the promises of Marxist justice sweeping the Russian intelligentsia of his day. This essay examines the intellectual and moral bankruptcy of Marxist ideals, which led him to recant Marxist ideology and turn back to the faith of his fathers. Soviet dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn considered this essay “one of the deepest analyses of the heart of Marxism and Marx himself.”

Marx, writes Bulgakov, drew from Feuerbach’s critique of religion and turns it against all religion. “He aims toward a complete and final eradication of religion, toward a pure atheism in which no sun shines anymore, neither in the sky or in the earth.” Marx himself wrote:

“Religion is the breath of a suppressed creature, the sentiment of the heartless world and, consequently, the spirit of a callous epoch — it is the opium of the people. The annihilation of religion … is the demand for their real happiness.”

To offer that happiness, Marx called for “the decisive, affirmative elimination of religion. Bulgakov responds that:

Marxist ideology is a break from the Western philosophical tradition; the ostensible continuity between Marx and classical philosophy is only an “imaginary connection;” and that

Marx reduces religion and theology to sociology.

By formulating a theory of economics based on the negation of religion, Marx reduces man to an algebraic unit who finds his purpose and destiny only in relation to the collective. The denial of God reduces man to matter, and once this happens, the restraints against evils are broken. This is why Alexander Solzhenitsyn taught that the cause of the suffering of the past century could be summed up in one existential fact: “Man has forgotten God.”

What We Need is Spiritual Warfare

If there is no room for God — if the memory of God must be eradicated from the cultural memory in order to build the New Jerusalem of the materialist (in fact another Babel) — then any notion of the sacredness of man must be eradicated as well.

The Tradinistas don’t understand Marx, but worse, they don’t understand their Christian faith either. Too many Christians are defenseless against the materialist/secular onslaught of the present age that Marx codified, even though the antecedents of materialism lie even further back in history. Such Christians get stuck in paradigmatic thinking, assuming that secularism in just another “world view” in competition with others. They believe that persuasion defeats evil, when what we need is spiritual warfare.

The sacramental dimension of the Christian faith reveals that material creation shares in a brokenness, the healing of which only comes from God Himself. The locus of salvation is the Cross and the Cross can only be located in the raw, existential, concrete awareness of one’s own brokenness. Dostoevsky was a master at revealing this inextinguishable truth about human life, especially in Crime and Punishment.

This sacramental dimension, this embrace of the Cross in one’s own life, is the means by which the light can penetrate and eventually extinguish the materialist delusion. It is also the way by which the evils unleashed by the mythology of the collective that grows from its acidic soil are defeated. It’s good that the Tradinistas go to church. Presumably they have been baptized and receive the Holy Eucharist. But do they have any understanding of what these sacraments mean? Are they functional atheists?

No Room for God in the Socialist Utopia

The Tradinista’s defense of the unborn, the only point that stands out against their notions of collective justice, may reveal that an authentic sense of the inviolability of human sacredness indeed remains among them. They are ignorant however of how viciously the Marxist materialism that informs their economic ideas militates against it. If there is no room for God — if the memory of God must be eradicated from the cultural memory in order to build the New Jerusalem of the materialist (in fact another Babel) — then any notion of the sacredness of man must be eradicated as well.

So what is the appeal of the false promises of Marxist ideology? Why does it seduce the minds of otherwise bright people and hold them in such paralyzing thrall? The promises of collective justice, the inauguration of the New Jerusalem, the implicit desire to rule others as one of the chosen, all these distortions of soul occur because the whisper first voiced in Eden is heard and believed: You shall be like God.

If, God forbid, Tradinista ideas are implemented in the West as they were in the Soviet Union in the last century, some of them will become like prisoners Solzhenitsyn described in The Gulag Archipelago. The Marxists inmates never perceived that the regime was evil. “There must be some mistake!” they cried, certain that Comrade Stalin would free them any day. They went to their deaths believing it.

[hermanwatts]

Science Fiction New Releases: 7 March, 2020

The Savage Wars, a litRPG inside a derelict space station, and a lone gunslinger grace this week’s newest science fiction releases.

Banishment (The Forgotten Empire #1) – Raymond L. Weil

Can Earth save the Human Empire?

The Confederation consists of the seven oldest races in known space. They control a vast section of the galaxy. All races in that part of the galaxy are subjects of the Confederation and forced to obey the Confederation’s laws.

The Human Empire is well aware of the Confederation and has been careful not to intrude upon Confederation space. However, now the Confederation has decided the Human Empire has grown too large and needs to be brought under control of the seven races.

Warfleets are dispatched, and soon massive space battles erupt throughout the Empire. Can the Humans survive or is the time of the Empire over?

Culmination (Baldwin’s Legacy #3) – Nathan Hystad

A new Concord leader. A return to the War. A new legacy.

Captain Thomas Baldwin and the crew of Constantine have saved the Concord from the Assembly, and are tasked with bringing them to prison.

With a stop at Earon, the human home planet, everyone gets a few days of well needed rest.

When communication comes that the wormhole generator is ready, Constantine must return to the Statu system with a new fleet, alongside a brand-new flagship with a familiar AI.

Constantine Baldwin was rumored to have ended the War fifty years ago, but its up to Thomas Baldwin to really finish the job.

Join the ensemble crew of the Concord’s leading cruise ship as they encounter danger after danger, in hopes for a peaceful ending.

Daskada, The Legend (Four Horsemen Sagas #3) – Christopher Woods

At a time when Humans were just starting to venture forth into the Galactic Union as mercenaries, Martin Quincy survived long enough to do something no one else had—he retired.

There was only one problem. He got bored. What does a ‘Legend’ do when even the merc life gets boring? He starts his own company! Along with buddy Kal Turner, they marshalled their Torvasi and Andori troopers and began taking contracts. A force for good, Quincy went about the galaxy, killing aliens and getting paid, while righting all the wrongs he found along the way.

His only problem was that he was successful—too successful—and some races don’t take losing very well. Worse, they’re willing to stop at nothing—even blowing up a planet, if that’s what it takes—in order to get even with Quincy.

Can Martin find out who’s framing him and bring them to justice? Perhaps the real question is, “Will he have time?” His Sirra’Kan princess partner’s biological clock is ticking, her father Kor’Findralis, the Prime of Te’Warri, wants an heir, and now Quincy has a Blevin mistress to somehow work into the mix. What happens when you long for the simplicity of combat? You take more contracts because, on a mission, the worst thing that can happen to you is you get killed!

Galaxy’s Edge: Savage Wars – Nick Cole and Jason Anspach

The greatest conflict the galaxy has ever known…

They were the Savages. Raiders from our distant past. Elites who left Earth to create tailor-made utopias aboard the massive lighthuggers that crawled through the darkness between the stars. But the people they left behind on a dying planet didn’t perish in the dystopian nightmare the Savages had themselves created: they thrived, discovering faster-than-light technology and using it to colonize the galaxy ahead of the Savages, forming fantastic new civilizations that surpassed the wildest dreams of Old Earth.

Until the Savages came in from the Darkness…

When a Savage hulk lands on glittering New Vega, one of the crown jewels of the post-Earth galaxy, a coalition of planetary governments amasses their forces to respond to the post-human Savage Marines who’ve come to sack and enslave. But what the coalition forces find is something far more sinister than the typical Savage hit-and-run: this time, the Savages have come to stay.

Experience the beginning of the Legion. Experience the Savage Wars.

Inheritance (The Last Enclave #1) – Morgan Cole

Trapped on a derelict space station, Jake must destroy an alien infestation—or he’ll never see his home again.

Still reeling from the death of his parents, Jake finds a doorway to an abandoned space station in his grandfather’s basement. But when he walks through, he discovers he’s trapped there and he’s got company.

The station’s AI enlists Jake to reclaim the systems needed to support life, but there’s a catch—he has only eight hours to complete the task or he’ll die alone in the cold vacuum of space. With only his trusty wrecking bar, work boots, and some basic survival equipment he must defeat the horrific monsters that infest the station before his air runs out.

But aliens aren’t all he has to worry about. Hidden in the station is a message that could spell doom for Earth, and the entire universe along with it.

Neon Harvest – Jon Mollison

Within shadows cast by the dayglo lights of a city where the party never stops, one man finds himself at the epicenter of the biggest financial deal in history.

With massive fortunes and control of powerful industries on the line, he plunges into the tangled weave where high-stakes finance, powerful politics, and grimy criminal syndicates vie for control of the seething masses of humanity. And cutting his way free of the ties that bind forces him to choose between escape from this sordid world, and saving the girl of his dreams.

“Neon Harvest” is a thrilling technoir adventure set in a retrofuture that might have been.

A Rain of Fire (The Great War #1) – Ralph Kearn

War has come to the Galaxy.

The dark forces of the Neo Hegemony strike, sweeping across the worlds of the Arcadian sector and crushing all in their path.

One system stands against the onslaught, the Kingdom of New Avalon. But the men and women of their expeditionary forces are trapped behind enemy lines on a besieged planet. Losing those troops will lose the war.

Their only hope? A last-ditch rescue mission led by Captain Hal Cutter and his battleship, Achilles. Beset on all sides by lethal enemy warships, he must lead a rag-tag fleet of naval and civilian vessels across Hegemony-held space to save the beleaguered Kingdom soldiers.

In the skies and orbit, Lieutenant Jason ‘Rick’ Richards and the untested pilots of Viper squadron clash in a furious battle for supremacy against elite enemy fighters.

And on the ground, Private Patrick ‘Wink’ Goble and his platoon must hold the line against a ruthless commander and her overwhelming force of battle-tested mechs until salvation arrives.

All will play their part in this desperate struggle for survival against impossible odds.

The Great War has begun…

The Sheriff – M. R. Forbes

The invaders are gone. Earth is in ruins. The strong prey on the weak.

In the wastelands of what’s left, a lone gunslinger delivers his own brand of justice. Some call him lawman. Some call him madman. Some call him vigilante. Some call him killer. Some call him legend.

They all call him…

…the Sheriff.

This is his story.

Science Fiction New Releases: 7 March, 2020 published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/