#laurel avenue

[deadpresidents]

Was Trump's assassination attempt the first time people other than the president were also killed or hurt?

No, it definitely was not the first time. There have been a number of additional victims during Presidential assassinations or assassination attempts throughout American history.

Here are the incidents where someone other than the President was wounded in an assassination attempt on Presidents or Presidential candidates:

•April 14, 1865, Washington, D.C. At the same time that John Wilkes Booth was shooting Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theatre, Booth's fellow conspirator, Lewis Powell, attacked Secretary of State William H. Seward at Seward's home in Washington. Seward had been injured earlier that month in a carriage accident and was bedridden from his injuries, and Powell viciously stabbed the Secretary of State after forcing his way into Seward's home by pretending to deliver medicine. Powell also attacked two of Seward's sons, a male nurse from the Army who was helping to care for Seward, and a messenger from the State Department. Another Booth conspirator, George Azterodt, was supposed to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson at the same time that Lincoln and Seward were being attacked in an attempt to decapitate the senior leadership of the Union government, but Azterodt lost his nerve and got drunk instead. A total of five people were wounded at the Seward home as part of the Booth conspiracy, but Lincoln was the only person who was killed.

•February 15, 1933, Miami, Florida Just 17 days before his first inauguration, President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt was the target of an assassination attempt in Miami's Bayfront Park. Giuseppe Zangara fired five shots at Roosevelt as FDR was speaking from an open car. Roosevelt was not injured, but all five bullets hit people in the crowd, including Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak who was in the car with FDR. Roosevelt may have been saved by a woman in the crowd who hit Zangara's arm with her purse as she noticed he was aiming his gun at the President-elect and caused him to shoot wildly. Mayor Cermak was gravely wounded and immediately rushed to a Miami hospital where he died about two weeks later.

•November 1, 1950, Blair House, Washington, D.C. From 1949-1952, the White House was being extensively renovated with the interior being almost completely gutted and reconstructed. President Harry S. Truman and his family moved into Blair House, a Presidential guest house across the street from the White House that is normally used for visiting VIPs, for 3 1/2 years. On November 1, 1950 two Puerto Rican nationalists, Griselio Torresola and Oscar Collazo, tried to shoot their way into Blair House and attempt to kill President Truman, who was upstairs (reportedly napping) at the time. A wild shootout ensued on Pennsylvania Avenue, leaving White House Police Officer Leslie Coffelt and Torresola dead, and Collazo and two other White House Police Officers wounded.

•November 22, 1963, Dallas, Texas Texas Governor John Connally was severely wounded after being shot while riding in the open limousine with President John F. Kennedy when JFK was assassinated.

•June 5, 1968, Ambassador Hotel, Los Angeles, California When he finished delivering a victory speech after winning California's Democratic Presidential primary, Senator Robert F. Kennedy of New York was shot several times while walking through the kitchen of the Ambassador Hotel. While RFK was mortally wounded and would die a little over a day later, five other people were also wounded in the shooting.

•May 15, 1972, Laurel, Maryland Segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace was paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by Arthur Bremer at a campaign rally when he was running for the Democratic Presidential nomination. Three bystanders were also wounded in the shooting, but survived.

•September 22, 1975, San Francisco, California A taxi driver in San Francisco was wounded when Sara Jane Moore attempted to shoot President Gerald Ford as he left the St. Francis Hotel. Moore's first shot missed the President by several inches and the second shot, which hit the taxi driver, was altered when a Vietnam veteran in the crowd named Oliver Sipple grabbed her arm as she was firing. Just 17 days earlier and 90 miles away, Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, a member of the Charles Manson family, had tried to shoot President Ford as he walked through Capitol Park in Sacramento but nobody was injured.

•March 30, 1981, Washington, D.C. President Ronald Reagan was shot and seriously wounded by as he left the Washington Hilton after giving a speech. Three other people were wounded in the shooting, including White House Press Secretary James Brady who was shot in the head and partially paralyzed, Washington D.C. Police Office Thomas Delahanty, and Secret Service agent Tim McCarthy. Video of the assassination attempt shows that when the shots were fired, McCarthy turned and made himself a bigger target in order to shield the President with his own body. President Reagan was struck by a bullet that ricocheted off of the Presidential limousine.

[setra-studies]

heyyy, since you said youd like to tell me more about that japanese occupation thing, i am here requesting anything else about it just cuz you seem to have lots of fun explaining it!! :3

1940s : a filipino perspective

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

oh my god !!!

thank you SO much for this ask!!!

alr alr i'll actually get started now

TWS: blood, war, injury, bombings, rape, murder, general war-crime stuff, HEAVY torture

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 1941: the start of fear

japan, aspiring to unite the countries in asia into the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere, called GEACOPS for short, had occupied manchuria already by the 1940s, and the philippines was the next thing japan wanted.

but the philippines was already occupied and colonized by the americans -- so this lead to the famous bombing of pearl harbour on december 7, 1941. in my textbook, here's an excerpt of the news in the honolulu star bulletin:

this was very strategic, as this was the largest american military base in the pacific, therefore cancelling out america disrupting japan's takeover as they were recovering from the bombing.

USAFFE (united states armed forces in the far east) were an army of filipino and american soldiers organized by general douglas macarthur, but were no match for the japanese forces. marching from north and southeast, the japanese moved toward manila and occupied the city.

an account of the pearl harbour bombing in the philippines by lourdes reyes montinola states:

on december 8, 1941, feast of the immaculate conception, we were on our way to church when news of the bombing of pearl harbour came. that same evening, a piercing siren warned us of an aerial attack--the first of a hundred we were to experience. we crouched in fear as the enemy dropped the first bombs, and our defenders fired anti-aircraft guns . . .

we remained unaware of impending tragedy until the day manila was declared an open city. we did not realize how bad things were going to be until we saw enemy soldiers carrying white flags with the red sun slowl passing through taft avenue . . . soon after, our house was commandeered by the japanese as were many other residences on vito cruz and taft avenue . . .

general macarthur declared manila an open city on december 26, 1941, which means it has been abandoned by its defenders. the japanese invaders, however, continued bombing, until vital installations and buildings of manila were gone. on new year's day 1941, USAFFE retreated into the hills and forest of bataan in the west, foreshadowing an even which will eventually be called the most inhuman atrocity in world war ii -- the bataan death march.

in the afternoon before christmas day, december 24, 1941 amid heavy bombings in the city the national government headed by quezon* and osmeña* were evacuated to the island fortress of corregidor. secretary of justice jose abad santos, general basilio valdes, and colonel manuel nieto were with them. manila was left under the care of jose p. laurel, the acting chief justice and the city mayor, jorge vargas. at the malinta tunnel in corregidor, quezon and osmeña took their oath for their second term as president and vice president of the philippine commonwealth*. after a few days the group left for australia and then for the united states.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ surrender and the open city

moving on to the horrific death march in bataan, soldiers were imprisoned by the japanese. but with no provisions, they were then ordered to walk to camp o'donnel, a concetration camp in capas, tarlac, and their march reached a whopping total of 126 kilometers.

but before that could happen, first, on april 9th, 1942, the 75,000 strong USAFFE soldiers in bataan laid down their arms, surrendering to the japanese. may 6th, 1942, the last remaining stronghold, corregidor, was also surrendered by general wainwright.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the horrors of bataan

to understand the terrible nature of this event, you must understand that no one had water. no one had food. no town could offer the dehydrated, starving filipino and american soldiers food or water or risk being beat by the japanese. escape was impossible, as the japanese shot down whoever attempted to do so. not even dirty canals or wells were available to men for drinking water. the dead were left to grow hot in the sun by the roadside, and if you were nearly dead the japanese would just shoot you and end it already. watches, rings, fountain pens, everything was looted by the japanese soldiers from the USAFFE men.

of the group that started in bataan, 10,000 died. more died in the concentration camp.

from san fernando, surviving prisoners were densely packed into boxcars with no ventilation and brought to capas. as the trains moved to their location under the hot sun, the boxcars became ovens that cooked the men inside alive.

six kilometers were left after their trip, that were once again agonisingly walked by the soldiers. 15,000 died of hunger, malaria, diarrhea, and more executions. a war veteran by name of quirico v. cadang shares his experience in his memoirs:

the earlier mentioned jose p laurel now acted as president of what is called the puppet government -- named after the japanese's puppetry of the new president. laurel was actually doing well in regards to running the country and reducing harm done, and allowed philippine history to finally be taught in schools. this government, the japanese-sponsored republic, was inaugurated on october 13, 1942.

beheadings, cutting of throats, and casual shootings were the more common actions of japanese war atrocities--compared to instances of bayonet stabbing, rape, disembowelment, rifle butt beating and a deliberate refusal to allow the prisoners food or water while keeping them continually marching in tropical heat. falling down or inability to continue moving was tantamount to a death sentence, as was any degree of protest.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the state of the government

economy was at an all time low during the occupation -- food and water scarce, as money was used to repair bombed buildings and such. prices soared in result.

the japanese kempeitai raided houses with unregistered radios, whos owners were then imprisoned in fort santiago, and inhuman punishments were meted out to them as a daily exercise.

failing to bow to the japanese sentries stationed at street corners resulted in harm to whoever had done so -- but that was not the main source of fear. the spy was.

filipinos could also be spies for the japanese -- called the makapili (literally meaning "choosy" or "the one who chooses"). he was to identify rebels (called guerrillas) and those identified would become targets and would be executed accordingly.

many years after the war, the abuses done to filipino women came to light. the "comfort women" were used to relieve soldier's sexual urges, and were often gathered into houses, even schools to be raped over and over every day. the infamous pulang bahay (red house) is the most well known place where this happened.

remedios fellas, 72, presented her story in a book entitled "the hidden battle of leyte: the picture diary of a girl taken by the japanese military." i will not describe anything in the book, as i deem it perhaps too graphic for this blog and i don't want people to get scared off. but i will say that stories like these were truly horrible, and no woman should ever suffer like this as spoil of war ever again.

by 1945, the americans were ready to return. after a bit of island-hopping (and subsequent victories), the leyte gulf war commensed. the american fleet, composed of 650 ships and 4 army divisions, cleared the area and subdued the japanese troops. from october 24 to 26, the battle for leyte gulf took place. the battle at surigao strait ended with the japanese annahilated. the battle of samar, after an endless day of fire and shooting, the americans had the upper hand. leyte, liberated on october 26th, 1945, was now the temporary capital.

the guerrilla / resistance movement was the main source of rebellion, monitoring enemy activity and reporting to general macarthur, to carry out assaults against the japanese military, and to kill japanese sympathizers and spies.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ freedom in reach

manila's liberation finally took place on january 9th, 1946, as the americans surprised the japanese with a landing of troops in lingayen gulf. on february 3, the troops entered manila. freeing prisoners, over 1000 were saved from the bilibid prisons -- and these prisoners were those of bataan and corregidor.

seeing the futility of their situation, the japanese committed a final horror before the battle begun -- the manila massacre. violent mutilations, rapes, and murders took place. filipinos were gathered into houses to be shot or burned down, and women were mass raped. a japanese battalion order dates february 13th reads:

when filipinos are to be killed they must be gathered in one place and disposed of with the consideration that ammunition and manpower must not be used to excess. because the disposal is a troublesome task they should be gathered into houses scheduled to be burned or demolished. they should also be thrown into the river.

about 100,000 of the one million residents in manila died in the absolute massacre. 1,000+ us soldiers were also part of the casualties while 5,565 were wounded. 16,000 japanese soldiers died as well, mostly sailors. the battle of manila was recorded as the fiercest urban fighting in the entire pacific war.

when in class, we watched a video of this massacre -- manila was gone. razed to the ground. on february 23rd -- my own birthday -- the fighting stopped. buildings gone. ground dirty with blood of filipinos, americans and japanese alike. the past six years culminated into a battle of the greatest intensity, and it ended in a city destroyed completely. the beauty of manila nowhere to be seen, the filipinos won back their independence at a cost too heavy to carry.

in malacañang palace, macarthur gathered the filipino leaders, finally declaring a statement that brought joy to the nation, that allowed the deaths of thousands of rebels to have come to use:

my country has kept the faith. your capital city, cruelly punished though it be, has regained its rightful place--citadel of democracy in the east.

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

thank you for reading. feel free to request other historical events.

if you read through this and feel very traumatized, play tetris. you'll likely forget most of the traumatizing details. i apologize in advance.

[slackville-records]

Joni Mitchell at home on Lookout Mountain Avenue, in Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles, 1970.

Joni bought the little house at 8217 Lookout Mountain in the Spring of 1968 with the royalties from her first album, SONG TO A SEAGULL. She met Graham Nash, who was visiting from the UK with his band, The Hollies, shortly after she purchased it, and by July they were living there together. Joni's house soon became THE place where Laurel Canyon-dwelling musicians hung out (when David Crosby and Stephen Stills dropped by one night, Crosby, Stills and Nash was born.)

Photo by Henry Diltz Photography

[popentertainment-interviews]

Michael Connelly and Alison Ellwood

Return to Wonderland

by Jay S. Jacobs

Hollywood was a pretty wild place in the early 1980s; a mixture of glitz, glamour and seediness, aging stars and young up-and-comers, gorgeous homes and run-down hoods, big business and small-time crime, nature, shopping and lots and lots of drugs.

On July 1, 1981, four people were found violently executed in a house on Wonderland Avenue in the beautiful Laurel Canyon section of LA. This mystery has long fascinated Angelinos and true-crime buffs. Barbara Richardson, Ron Launius, Joy Miller and Billy DeVerell were killed in the home invasion, with Lanius’ wife Susan Launius surviving with serious injuries.

While since early on the responsibility for the crimes has been attached to LA nightclub owner and gangster Eddie Nash as retribution to Ron Lanius and DeVerell taking part in a robbery of Nash’s home, no one has ever been successfully charged with the murders. However, the events had tendrils which reached way out into Hollywood, ensnaring porn star John Holmes and Vegas icon Liberace, and even lightly brushing upon such 1980s superstars as John Belushi, Richard Pryor and Michael Jackson.

The Liberace, Belushi, Pryor and Jackson connections mostly came through witness Scott Thorson, Liberace’s former companion (he wrote the book Behind the Candelabra) turned drug dealer. Thorson is an infamously unreliable storyteller (he is referred to as an “enigma” in the series), however, it seems that he has mostly told the truth about the goings-on at Wonderland.  

Crime novelist Michael Connelly (the Harry Bosch books and The Lincoln Lawyer) has long had a fascination with the case, going back to his days as a crime reporter at The Los Angeles Times. He also lived right around the corner from the crime scene for much of the 1990s. His fascination led to his 2021 podcast on the crime, “The Wonderland Murders & the Secret History of Hollywood.” The podcast was such a success that it has been turned into a TV series to stream on MGM+.

A few years after we spoke with the novelist about the podcast, we checked back in with Connelly and series director Alison Ellwood to discuss the TV series version of The Wonderland Massacre & the Secret History of Hollywood.

Michael, you did a podcast on the case a few years ago. Why did the two of you think that it would make for an intriguing TV series?

Michael Connelly: I thought there'd be some pretty good archival stuff. I had some of that, but obviously I only had the audio of it for the podcast. I didn't know the wealth of stuff that Alison would find, going all the way back to Eddie Nash being on TV. That was something I was hoping for. That would be a reason to go from podcast to documentary. That idea, or that hope, paid off in much bigger ways than I even expected. I think that's a really big part of what keeps this series compelling.

Alison, what was it that interested you about making this a series?

Alison Ellwood: I had just finished doing the Laurel Canyon music series, and that was this beautiful place with these musicians and all this amazing music. By the time this story happens, it's like the negative image of what had become of this place: houses with artists creating music could become dens of drug thieves. That noirish turn in a place was what compelled me about it, plus getting to work with Michael. I'm a big fan of his books.

Scott Thorson died a couple weeks ago. He was a huge part of the show, and the series is dedicated to him. However, you always referred to him as “an enigma” and “an unreliable narrator.” He has told many stories of the Wonderland Massacre, and many seem to check out, but you never know for sure with him. He even said in your last interview that he was working on a book on the case, which will probably never see the light of day. How much of the story do you think he took to the grave with him, or do you think he shared most of what he knew?

Michael Connelly: I think he shared probably 90% of it, but he always inferred – we didn't put this in podcast or the show – he always inferred that if push came to shove, he would name other people that were there that night. That were dispatched to Wonderland to exact Eddie Nash's revenge. He was scared of these people, and said they were still alive. Whether that was baiting or exaggeration, I don't really know, but I'm pretty sure he took some stuff with him, and I don't think we'll ever be able to dig that out.

Alison Ellwood: I don't think he could know for sure, too. He said he suspected who met them at the house, but he didn't personally witness that.

A lot of other people also have gone to the grave since, people like Johnny Holmes and Greg Iles. Why do you think that Eddie Nash had that kind of effect on people that they were just so afraid to talk, no matter what happened?

Alison Ellwood: Well, look at what he did at Wonderland. I mean, it was brutal. They were terrified of it. They were all addicted to drugs too. He had that hold over them as well.

Michael Connelly: Yeah, it was money and drugs. It was obviously a key way of controlling people. And indications are that he had tentacles into power structures in Los Angeles, through payoffs and bribes and things like that. So, whether he really had it as wired as it appeared is one thing, but if people of that time believed it, they were going to stay in line. I think over the years that what happened at Wonderland served him well as being the scary figure that you don't cross.

The killings are in this weird netherworld of crime because it's officially still an open case after all these years, although everyone pretty much agrees they know the who, the why and what happened. Eddie Nash did end up spending a little time in jail on RICOH charges, but not nearly as much as he probably should have for what he did. Do you think that the fact that justice was never quite served makes this story even more interesting and more sordid?

Alison Ellwood: Yeah, absolutely. I mean, you can see it in the detectives, the frustration and frankly, anger. They feel they had it. They had all the pieces. Everything was in place, and just one thing after another, the rug would get pulled out from under them.

Michael Connelly: That's my connection to the case, because I spend a lot of time with detectives to inspire and research the books I write. All the detectives in this story I've known for a while, long before I decided to do a podcast or a documentary series. This is the one that really sticks with them. As you say, it's unrequited justice. Sometimes some people were brought before the courts, publicly and so forth, but at the end of the day, X number of people went in that house and brutally killed four people. Every person that went in there, no matter how many it was – whether there was two, three or four – none of them served any time for what they did. That's why it's still open. Probably will always be open. You never know, this documentary series could spawn something, but at the end of the day, it's a story of unrequited justice, and that makes it pretty interesting.

As a novelist, you say in the series, you couldn’t get away with writing many of the things which happen in real life. What are some of the things that really happened here that if you were writing fiction, you would feel you could never get away with?

Michael Connelly: Just the idea of this guy who was appearing on Las Vegas stages with Liberace becomes at the center of this drug kingdom. Just the idea that a guy that's delivered to witness protection ends up on The 700 Club as a TV evangelist. Put that in a book and see what your editor says. I love the little story about how they were ahead of the wave of law enforcement with crack cocaine, where Thorson got pulled over, they found a baseball sized ball of crack, and the cops didn't even know what it was. They just tossed it on the hood of the car and then let him go about his way when he said it was a toy that his brother's kid used, or something like that. Just little things that have the ring of truth to them because they are outrageous. “When you write a crime novel, you have to be more real than real,” is one of the things that my editor told me once a long time ago. I would always seed my books with little anecdotes that I know are true, but they just seemed unbelievable. This case is full of them.

Alison Ellwood: Yeah, and Scott's claims just become more and more fantastical as it goes on. But they actually proved to be vetted out, so….

Alison as a filmmaker, was it fun and/or difficult to track down and go through all the footage of not just the case, but basically the United States in the 80s and Hollywood in the 80s and everything that was going on there?

Alison Ellwood: Yeah. We had researchers working constantly, bringing in material all the time and finding new things. One of the best things we found was [footage of] Scott after he'd been shot in Jacksonville. I mean, who knew that existed? That was crazy that we got that. That was like another point in telling of the story. It was just covered by local news. I guess he was still famous enough as being attached to Liberace, that they covered it as a local thing, but we never knew that existed. It was constant, bringing stuff in, even up until the very last minute.

Michael Connelly: The archival stuff that we were able to get, that Alison was able to get, really are the reasons to take it from podcast to visual storytelling. You can have, as I did in the podcast, Scott talk about knowing these people like Michael Jackson, but I've already said he's an unreliable narrator. In the documentary, we have a slew of photos of him with Michael Jackson, so it's confirmed. The documentary confirms a lot of the podcast that you can't just confirm with audio storytelling.

Just on a more basic level, why do you think that true crime stories make for such interesting television?

Michael Connelly: From my standpoint, it's because you're talking about the 2% of the world that gets involved in these things. It's almost like science fiction or something. You're taking someone into a world that they don't understand. When I do book tours, I usually say, “How many here have solved a murder?” and no one raises their hand. But they love reading books about solving murders, because it's an alien world and it's fascinating, and the stakes are always high. So, I think that does translate to this… I guess it's a vogue, or maybe it's always been that way… but that true crime is something that so many people are interested in.

Alison Ellwood: I personally prefer reading true crime to watching true crime because it's too scary. (laughs)

Michael Connelly: It helps when you have a story that extends the genre or takes it to a point where it has some resonance. The social history involved in this and the start of the crack epidemic, and the tendrils of this story that go into the underworld of Hollywood and the overworld of Hollywood. All that adds to it, I think, and gives you something that's more than a whodunit.

Alison Ellwood: Also, not to be just sensationalized. There's a much deeper story beneath all of this, both about the human beings, and how they got tripped up into all this. Storytelling is what interests me and this was very rich in that respect.

Are there any other Hollywood mysteries, or just mystery stories in general, that you'd like to explore for possible future series?

Alison Ellwood: Yes. (laughs)

Michael Connelly: We've had a good time on this. I enjoyed being a pseudo detective, so Alison and I are and the production company that made this, we're all talking about maybe doing something else.

You've long ago moved past your crime reporting to doing fiction. Was it fun to get your reporter’s cap back on and do all of the interviews and probe into the mystery?

Michael Connelly: Yes, definitely. I mean, I don't think I ever lost that. You're right, I've not done any kind of newspaper writing or anything like that. Even though it's been 25 years or so since I worked at a newspaper, I've always felt, even as I'm writing fiction, that I'm still a journalist at heart. Something happened in the last few years, maybe the craze of podcasts led me back to telling true stories and it's been fun. I don't want this one to be the last story I tell that's true.

You've also been having a hot streak on television right now with Bosch and Bosch: Legacy and The Lincoln Lawyer and now this. Writing books is very solitary work, and TV is much more interactive. You're dealing with people, everyone's putting things together. Are you enjoying all the different directions your TV work is taking in?

Michael Connelly: Yeah, I think it's therapeutic to get out of the isolation of a room where you write books and go into a [TV} writing room or go to a set. It appears that I'm more involved than I really am. What I do is gather people that I can trust with my work and let them do their thing, and then I bask in the glory of it. So, it's not like I'm totally there all the time. I pick my times to show up and to help out if I can, but for the most part, I'm back in that room by myself writing books.

Copyright ©2024 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: September 8, 2024.

Photos © 2024. Courtesy of MGM+. All rights reserved.

Except for Photo 2 © 2024 Jay S. Jacobs. All rights reserved.

[innervoiceart]

Joni Mitchell photographed by Graham Nash at her home on Lookout Mountain Avenue in Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles in September 1969.

"Elliot, David, and I migrated from New York to Los Angeles. David was my agent; Elliot was my manager. I bought this little house, and David Crosby chided me for it; he said I should have looked around. But I liked that house.

The hill behind my house was full of little artificial man-made caves. The house was charming. I paid $36,000 for it, but I paid it off. I probably paid more for it because I paid it off. It had a fireplace and it was mysteriously protected by a force. My neighbors, who were six feet from my house, were junkies; I was out of town and came back and their house had burned down to the ground.

My dining room looked out over Frank Zappa’s duck pond, and once when my mother was visiting, three naked girls were floating around on a raft in the pond. My mother was horrified by my neighborhood. In the upper hills the Buffalo Springfield were playing, and in the afternoon there was just a cacophony of young bands rehearsing. At night it was quiet except for cats and mockingbirds. It had a smell of eucalyptus, and in the spring, which was the rainy season then, a lot of wildflowers would spring up. Laurel Canyon had a wonderful distinctive smell to it."

- vanityfair.com/culture/2015/02/laurel-canyon-music-scene

[empirearchives]

Excerpt from the Memoirs of Heinrich Heine: Heine’s memories of the time he saw Napoleon in person

The Emperor! The Emperor! The Great Emperor! When I think of the Great Emperor then all is summer green and golden in my thoughts; a long avenue of limes blooms forth into my vision, and in the bowers of their branches sit singing nightingales: a waterfall roars, flowers stand in round beds and dreamily nod their lovely heads—and I was in wonderful nearness to it all. The painted tulips greeted me with beggarly pride and condescension; the nerve-sick lilies nodded tender and woe-begone; the drunken red roses greeted me laughing from afar, the night-violets sighed—I was not yet acquainted with the myrtles and laurels, for they lured not with glowing blossoms, but I was on particularly good terms with the mignonette, with whom I now stand so ill—I am speaking of the palace garden at Düsseldorf, where often I lay on the turf and listened eagerly while Monsieur Le Grand told me of the warlike deeds of the great Emperor and, as he told, beat out the marches that had been drummed during the doing of those deeds, so that I saw and heard everything vividly. Monsieur Le Grand drummed so that he well-nigh broke the drum of my ear. . . .

But what it was to me when I saw him, I myself, with thrice blessed eyes, his very self. Hosannah! The Emperor.

It was in the avenue of the Palace garden at Düsseldorf. As I thrust my way through the throng; I thought of the deeds and the battles which Monsieur Le Grand had drummed to me, and my heart beat the march of the General—and yet at the same time I thought of the police order prohibiting riding through the avenue, penalty five shillings—and the Emperor with his suite rode down the middle of the avenue, and the scared trees bowed as he passed, and the sunbeams trembled in fear and curiosity through the green leaves, and in the blue heavens there swam visibly a golden star. The Emperor was wearing his modest green uniform and his little cocked hat known the world over.

He was riding a little white horse that paced so calmly, so proudly, so securely, and with such an air. . . Listlessly sat the Emperor, almost loosely, and one hand held high the rein, and the other tapped gently on the neck of the little horse. . . The Emperor rode calmly down the middle of the avenue. No agent of the police opposed him; behind him proudly rode his followers on foaming steeds, and they were laden with gold and adornments; the drums rattled, the trumpets blared; near me Aloysius the Fool threaded his way and babbled the names of the Generals; not far off sottish Gumpertz bellowed, and with a thousand thousand voices the people cried: “Long live the Emperor!”

Source: Heinrich Heine's Memoirs, From His Works, Letters, and Conversations; Volume 1

[mistons]

Miami Beach

Snowden Estate, 1923, looking north from 44th St & Collins Ave. Harvey S. Firestone's Harbel Villa Estate, 1930s. Fontainebleau Hotel construction, 1954. Firestone estate was used as a construction office.  

Miami History / SMU Libraries / Miami Archives / Gottscho-Schleisner collection, LOC

Fontainebleau architect Morris Lapidus: In his day, critics reviled the excesses of Lapidus’ designs, calling his architecture “the nation’s grossest national product,” “pornography of architecture,” and “boarding house baroque” ... There was a “Staircase to Nowhere” so women dressed in couture and jewels could take an elevator to the top to deposit their coats and glamorously descend the stairs to the lobby. - Fontainebleau Hotel, A Colorful History

Steve Wynn:

In 1954 a guy named Ben Novack and his brother Joe Novack, who had  experience in the Catskills at a hotel called Laurel, and in Miami Beach at the Sans Souci Hotel - sort of like Las Vegas with bunch of hotels lined up one next to the other on Collins Avenue - got an option on the Firestone estate at 41st St. on Collins Ave., a big 15-acre oceanfront piece that was owned by the famous family that made tires.

Ben Novack and Joe Novack conceived with an architect named Morris Lapidus of a hotel called Fontainebleau. This place was going to be a new idea. The hotel itself was going to be a series of experiential moments that included formal French gardens, sort of a Jewish version of Versailles; a gorgeous, soaring, high ceiling lobby; a lot of curvilinear spaces and curved stairways; murals on the wall of 18th century France; a fabulous showroom; a shopping arcade below; beyond the garden an expansive Cabana and pool club; a beautiful spa; and a curved building with blue glass. The Fontainebleau was going to set a new standard of destination resorts on planet Earth. It was so breakaway, so profoundly new it didn't even add a name on it. No sign, just the building.

It opened in 1954 and it changed everything people came from France, Italy, Germany, Mexico, Venezuela, Argentina, and Brazil. Between Christmas and Easter you had to know somebody to get a room. Everybody from Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis worked there. It was the coolest place to be in America during high season. The Fontainebleau dwarfed in scale and imagination anything that had ever been done anywhere in Europe or America, and it was received that way.  

Jay Sarno was a character from Atlanta. He saw the Fontainebleau. He saw that this place was in the literary sense romantic, better than the outside world. It was a universe utopia within itself. Sarno never got over it

I was going to school at the University of Pennsylvania. My folks had Cabana 364 on an annual basis. I’d come there at Christmastime, and I never got over it. To me it seemed like the greatest thing in the world is to create a place that would transport people that way.

[oldshowbiz]

Adolph Linick convinced Adolph Zukor, Marcus Loew, and William Fox to abandon the fur business and get into the movies. 

Eventually he moved to Hollywood and lived in this colonial style mansion at 1343 Laurel Avenue.

[lazyworksinprogress]

on Sunday, I went to an art exhibition in a backroom in Midrand...

one of my friends arranged for us to attend a small showing of the Bark//Please exhibition held at the Backroom SCAM (Studio for Creative Arts in Midrand) and we had an inspirational afternoon. what I expected to be an impersonal hour or so at an underwhelming typical gallery turned out to be something quite different. One of the big reasons for this is the Studio is a backroom that has been converted into a gallery and studio space - I wasn't sure I'd come to the right place when I stood outside what appeared to be someone's house in a residential suburb.

we had made an appointment to view the art which was a concession to the space's capacity limitations that has been turned into a strength. it felt intimate to be guided through in a story in a little group. Lesiba Mabitsela, the gallery owner, presented a lot of information about the barkcloth exhibit and our handful had an interesting discussion touching on fashion, geopolitics, and history for about an hour.

after the appointed hour of barkcloth appreciation, my friend and I sat in Lesiba's backyard and chatted his ears off. We made our way into his storage and work space to get a private view of upcoming projects and made him promise to invite us back whenever the gallery has more events. It felt like making a very special memory to have this kind of experience, particularly in an area that doesn't have a developed commercial art scene.

I linked a bit of information below about the show and its inspirations - the Issey Miyake connection made my heart soft and I told Lesiba about my mother and my shared love of his design philosophy. I put a little section on abaca too because I was reminded of Dolly De Leon wearing Rajo Laurel at the Baftas.

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"The exhibition showcases some early encounters, thought-processes and creative explorations between Ugandan visual artists Sheila Nakitende ( @sheila.nakitende ) and Liz Kobusinge ( @kobusinge ), including South African fashion practitioners Lesiba Mabitsela ( @souvenirs_of_conflict ) and Thabiso Ncanana ( @thabiso.ncanana ) in their explorations of bark, barkcloth and barkcloth papermaking in Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa. The exhibition comprises gifts and process work materialised during the Pan-African Research Residency (2023) that was facilitated by the African Fashion Research Institute (AFRI) ( @afri.digital ) in partnership with Creative Nestlings Foundation ( @creativenestlings ) as part of The Fold, a fashion research initiative supported by the British Council ( @britishcouncil )."

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A post shared by Darlyne Komukama (@darlkom)

"Issey Miyake’s essential touchstone has been the concept of making clothing from “a Piece of Cloth.” His process explores the fundamental relationship between the body, the cloth that covers it, and the space and room that is created between these elements, divesting itself of the labels of “East” or “West”. Miyake’s creative process begins by studying a single thread and creating his material, which then leads to new clothing." - IsseyMiyake.com

In 1993, he launched PLEATS PLEASE ISSEY MIYAKE line using the unique “garment pleating” process. The label offered clothing as a product that was easy to wear, to care for and to travel with; practical for all aspects of daily life, comfortable, affordable, and elegant. He continued to pursue avenues through which to create clothing that could suit the needs and lifestyle of a modern woman. - IsseyMiyake.com

[kalakian]

Why it's hard to talk about Martial Law and the Marcos regime

The student who dared to question Imee Marcos.

Archimedes Trajano, a student of Mapua Institute of Technology who unfortunately met his end in the hands of Imee Marcos’ henchmen.

During an open forum at the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila, the then-21-year-old questioned Imee on her capability to lead the youth and told her that she only became the head of the Kabataang Barangay because she was the president’s daughter. He also questioned her on the human rights abuses being committed by her father.

On September 2, 1977, his crumpled body was strewn on the streets of Manila. The official explanation was that he had died in a frat rumble inside his dormitory. Witnesses, however, said that Imee’s security dragged him away from the open forum. Trajano’s family successfully sued Marcos for civil damages in a Hawaii court; however, the local Supreme Court overturned it in 2006 due to a technicality committed by a lower court in trying to implement the prior verdict.

CONGRESS PADLOCKED UNDER MARTIAL LAW, 1972-1986

Days before the scheduled reopening of the Senate and the House of Representatives under the 1935 Constitution, Marcos promulgated the 1973 Constitution, which effectively abolished Congress and replaced it with a unicameral legislature which would be formed three years after. Opposition legislators reported to the Legislative Building on January 22, 1973, but found the building padlocked and under an armed guard.

The 7th Congress had been set to open its second regular session on January 22. The photo depicts Senators Doy Laurel, Eva Estrada Kalaw, Ramon Mitra, and Jovito Salonga posing in front of the Senate session hall which had been padlocked, a stark symbol of power held by a single man.

Between 1972 and 1977, sixty thousand Filipinos were arrested for “political reasons.” A new word entered the Filipino vocabulary, “salvage.” The brutal verb described how the military would disappear individuals, torture and murder them, and then toss their corpses into vacant lots or drop them by the side of the road. Thousands were salvaged under Marcos’ reign of terror.

Photo shows the legs of Judy Taguiwalo, former Social Welfare secretary and member of the Samahan ng Demokratikong Kabataan, as policemen force her and her fellow activists to leap off a jeepney during a rally after the State of the Nation Address of President Ferdinand Marcos in front of Manila's Congress on January 26, 1970. 

Two were killed and many were injured after a scrimmage at Manila’s Burgos Drive up to nearby golf link in Intramuros and Luneta Park. The injured were brought to the Philippine General Hospital on Taft Avenue.

Prior to the confrontation between students and policemen, Ed Jopson of Ateneo and the conservative National Union of Students of the Philippines (NUSP) chose radio commentator Arienda as a rally speaker over firebrand Gary Olivar of UP and SDK. It was dubbed as the “microphone battle” of the radical and conservative protesters in the 70s.

(1) FilipiKnow: 10 Lesser-Known Photos from Martial Law Years That Will Blow You Away

GMA: High court voids case vs Imee over 1977 killing of student

(2) FilipiKnow: 10 Lesser-Known Photos from Martial Law Years That Will Blow You Away

Official Gazette: The History of the Senate of the Philippines

(3) World Socialist Website: Forty-eight years since Marcos declared martial law in the Philippines

(4) ANC: The 7 deadly protests of the First Quarter Storm

[badarchitecturesucks]

What are the true criteria for success, in terms of the individual artist's aspirations? Is he committed merely to the realization of a stereotyped image of the artist who's "arrived," crowned with the laurels of popular acclaim; assured of a constantly re-plumped bankroll and entree into the inner sanctums of Madison Avenue…or is it rather that the artist is committed to respond to the unending challenge of his very nature as a creative person, and to discover the depth, width, range of his own unique visions as an artist, and, hopefully, as a human being…

Raymond Saunders, Black is a Color

[kits-shrine]

“That may make things tricky, but surely you can figure out a cover,” Cian huffed growing a bit irritated with Robert’s excuses, “it would also be a good idea to find out who's on his teams in advance Koki.”

“Quite right Cian, so who do we need to know and look out for?” Koki asked the man.

~

“Lead the way,” Laurel grinned.

Against his natural inclinations Robert told them about the 4 man (or well 3 man 1 woman) team that he worked with to handle the dirtier aspects of the Stone's affairs. From buy offs, to corruption, to clean up, they handled it all. Murder was not something that came up often, other avenues were preferred but it wasn't off the table... just look at Henry.

~

The skeleton did so happily, telling them about the Hotspring and Inn and it's proprietor as they approached a very large set of doors. Entering they were greeted by a very cheerful feline monster "Welcome hon-nyahed- guests!"

"Hello Neko!" Yurei greeted "We're Here For Dinner. I'm Sure My Brother Is Already Here?"

Neko nodded and gestured them down a hall "Oh Yes! Go right on in-nyah."

[greenjacketwhitehatdocmui]

Recent Jon Kent Thought

OK, in light of recent announcements from NYCC, I have a thought or two.  I’ll try to keep this fairly civil, but just in case, it’s going under the cut.

OK, so basically, Superman:  Son of Kal-El was canceled and a new mini-series, Adventures of Superman:  Jon Kent is taking its place.  Having left Son of Kal-El fairly early in its run (issue 2-3, I think?  It just wasn’t doing it for me.), I was actually hoping that SOKE would be the mini-series.

Here’s the thing:  Tom Taylor is good at limited-series books.  Within a limited series, one can pace it accordingly.

I’m given to understand that SOKE was not well-paced.  I’ve only read summaries and heard from some friends.  There were certain events which were rushed for media consumption.

(This may sound harsh, but if you’re willing to shortchange plot, pacing and character development for the sake of various laurels and media coverage, you may have Sold Out.  It’s a sad fact that no matter how many props one might get on social media, it’s not always indicative of the important audience--the people who buy the work.)

Moving on, the mini-series is reportedly to deal with Ultraman, the evil Superman who had Jon in a volcano for years on Earth 3.  Supposedly, this is to deal with all those issues that Bendis utterly ignored when he put Jon through that.

I’m sorry, shouldn’t this have been dealt with...three years ago?  “Strike while the iron’s hot,” right?

There could have been such a great story arc.  Jon’s home, but he’s dealing with PTSD.  Things are the same, but they’re not the same.  He’s having recurring nightmares of the volcano and that time when he was utterly powerless.

It’s not enough to escape.  It’s time to put those ghosts to rest.

Three years ago, if Bendis had bothered to explore this avenue (and he’s no stranger to characters and trauma), would have been the right time.  But no, it was basically, “I’m setting these things up.  You guys deal with it.  Peace!”

Tom Taylor could have gone down the road of “recovering superhero” in order to get people emotionally invested in Jon.  He could have gotten people to empathize with Jon instead of saying, “my Superman’s better because he doesn’t punch anyone.”

(I was greatly annoyed when, in SOKE # 2, Clark “admitted” that Earth wasn’t really “his world.”  Um, yeah...Earth is Clark’s world, even if he wasn’t born there.  You know how some people may not have been born in a country, but they’re still citizens of that country?  That was my cue to quietly exit, no ranting or raving on Twitter.)

I don’t believe I’ll be getting into the new series.  I don’t see much point in supporting an author who’s willing to sell out.

--Doc

[rjdavies]

Spooky and the Supernatural Series: Crossroad Demons

Supernatural, Spooky, Creature and Places Series we continue with ….

Today’s Topic: Crossroad Demons

What is a crossroads demon you might ask?

If you need something bad enough, you can make a deal with the devil. All you must do is go to a crossroads at midnight and wait for him to show up.

To summon a crossroad demon:

You need to dig a hole in the dead center of a set of crossroads

Bury a box containing: a picture of the mortal wishing to make the deal, some graveyard dirt, a bone from a cat.

Another way: draw a circle, offer copper and say an incantation.

Crossroad demons are demons tasked with making deals or granting wishes in exchange for the person’s soul. When that person dies, the hellhounds come for you and drag you kicking and screaming down to hell where you are transformed into a demon to do the Devil’s bidding. They are called crossroad demons because that’s where the deals are made at a crossroad. You need to summon them first.  

Some other fun facts:  

A landmark towers over the intersection of North State Street and Desoto Avenue. Called “The Devil's Crossroads,” it marks the old intersection of US Highways 49 and 61. According to local legend, it's the spot where Robert Johnson made his deal with the devil to play the blues like none other.

Movies

ReMastered: Devil at the Crossroads (2019)

Hellhounds on my Trail (2000)

Books

Crossroads by Laurel Hightower

Beyond the Crossroads: The Devil and the Blues Tradition by Adam Gussow

My short stories that have a Crossroad Demon in it, “Devil’s Fork” and “The Midnight Deal”. These short stories and others that you can download and read for free at my website.

Be careful who you make a deal with,

R. J. Davies

A Riveting Jacked-In Dreamy Mind-Bender  

Visit my website at https://rjdavies.ca/ and sign up for my mailing list!

[e350tb]

Red Alert - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Domination

New York City Day Twenty-One

There was no great parade when New York finally surrendered.

The Soviet infantry marched down Fifth Avenue in open order, fingers on their triggers. The great thoroughfare was grey and empty, dotted with the burned out remains of tanks and vehicles, the dead of both sides still scattered about. Those New Yorkers that hadn’t fled gazed warily from dark, broken windows - many of them were boarded up. Draft fliers and public information posters blew gently in the wind, and there was the distant sound of barking dogs, but all else was eerily quiet.

The men stole glances upwards at the ash-grey sky. The great skyscrapers were wounded by the fighting; the crown of the Empire State Building had been blasted away. The American International Building was a charred, blackened husk, as was the Rockefeller Centre, while the comparatively undamaged World Trade Centre towers looked worn and rundown. The Chrysler Building, now being converted to serve as General Cherdenko’s headquarters, was the only truly unharmed tower, and to some of the men it seemed almost a symbol of defiance.

As they passed the Metropolitan Museum of Art, they saw steely-eyed Chekists at the doors, fingers on the triggers of their battle rifles. No frontovik would be looting this esteemed establishment - that, it seemed, had been saved for the staff officers and KGB men that the infantry could see beyond the doors, laughing and dancing drunkenly around the precious art.

This was the great Soviet victory, then. It felt decidedly hollow. Too many men had died for this burned out ruin. Some thought they ought to have laid siege; they had enough port facilities in Philadelphia to keep the invasion going, didn’t they? The ones in New York had all been destroyed, and it would be weeks before they would be operational again. Was it worth so many thousands of good Russian men, they wondered?

It didn’t matter now. The Battle for New York had finally come to an end.

Now these men would be going inland.

------

Temporary United States Military Headquarters, Columbus Day Twenty-Two

“So, uh, give it to me straight, gentlemen.”

Vice-President Carter wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he watched the generals around him - both in person and on screen - preparing their reports. The temporary command centre wasn’t bad, seeing as it had been hastily set up in a bunker under the Columbus City Hall - it had state of the art communications technology, connecting him with both the Liberty and the Western Command at Omaha. Carville was pacing next to the now obligatory ‘big map’ that had been laid out on a table in front of them. He was scowling, but then again, nobody had much to smile about these days.

Carville had been trying to insist the government decamp west for days - since Pittsburgh had fallen. Carter was having none of it. If the men were staying, then so was he. Even if many of the men of the shattered Task Force Banks weren’t staying, but were fleeing west as fast as they could. Somebody had to make an example, Carter thought. Somebody had to draw a line in the sand. Ohio would hold.

In any case, he knew he wasn’t really in command. That laurel belonged to the generals, now. The very thought made him shudder.

“Mr. Vice-President.” Carville opened for the generals. “We’ve got good news and we’ve got bad news. Which do you want first?”

“Uh… good news, I think,” replied Carter. “We could all do with some.”

Carville nodded to one of the generals on screen - the large, bald and muscular General Fuller, who insisted on wearing his combat fatigues at all time, Vice-President be damned.

“We’ve been squeezin’ their Seattle beachhead by the balls,” he said. “And they’re startin’ to squeal. I’ll give ‘em a week tops before they give in.”

“That,” added Analyst Jackson from his office aboard the Liberty, “has significant geopolitical implications. With Soviet nuclear forces concentrated against Europe, there may be room for the involvement of Japan and Korea in the war - to say nothing of Generalissimo Chiang.”

“Well, I mean, he’s barely better than the Soviets,” mused Carter.

“Better the devil you know, Mr. Vice-President,” said Jackson. “Or rather, better the devil you’ve funded.”

“So, we could assemble Japan, China and Korea into our ‘coalition of the willing,” said Carville. “And we may, as much as I hate to say it, have a breakthrough in Europe. Colonel?”

Colonel Hawthorne cleared her throat.

“I’ve been contacted by Mi6,” she said. “They’re telling me that if we can silence Soviet nuclear forces in Eastern Europe, they can send in forces to assist us.”

“It would be damn dicey, Mr. President,” said Carville. “But intelligence suggests it might work. We still have SAC squadrons available in Britain and Iceland.”

“And the V-Bomber force,” added Hawthorne.

“Our combined bomber strength might be enough to knock the Soviet missile launchers in Poland and the Baltic out of action,” continued Carville.

“But what about their strategic forces?” asked General Fuller.

“I’m not convinced Premier Romanov’s prepared to use them,” replied Granger. “Intelligence suggests…”

“I’m not risking nuclear war based on your convictions, General Granger,” said Carter firmly. “Jackson, what does our intelligence suggest?”

“Our overseas intelligence no longer exists, Mr. Vice-President,” replied Jackson. “Everything we have has either gone to ground or been lost. But consider this in purely economic terms, sir. Could the Russians afford the ships and aircraft needed to mount this invasion, and a dedicated psionics department, and prototypical Tesla weapons and heavy tanks, and still be able to afford upkeep for strategic weapons?”

“Are you willing to risk the world on it, Jackson?” asked Carter.

“With all due respect, Mr. Vice-President, we don’t exactly have a lot of options here,” said Carville.

“We could escalate-”

“We already made the decision to escalate,” snapped Carville. “We did so the moment President Dugan ordered a counterstrike. If we want to win this war, we have to accept the possibility that nuclear weapons are going to be used.”

Carter paled.

“I…”

He mopped his brow again.

“You may proceed with the operation,” he said, “provided you can show me detailed intelligence on their missile sites. I don’t want the first sign that we missed one being a mushroom cloud over London.”

“My British counterparts are already gathering a full report,” replied Jackson.

“Good, good,” nodded Carter. “Now, what’s the situation on the eastern front?”

------

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Day Twenty-Two

The giant tower had been set up in a park in the middle of the city.

Khabarov frowned as the installation - this enormous cattle prod - was checked over by the engineers, his arms crossed. Zofia stood next to him, but her eyes were fixed on the newly minted General Demichev, who was shouting terse orders at anyone who would listen. He wore a new uniform, black in colour with purple trimmings, with a truly enormous peaked cap. One might almost have forgotten that, just a few weeks ago, the man had scorned the very concept of a PsiCorps.

“His hypocrisy is unbecoming,” Khabarov noted.

“He’s hardly the first officer to exchange principles for power,” noted Zofia. “Although I do wonder if a bit of fear might be motivating him.”

“Fear?”

“He wants to be on the right side,” said Zofia.

“The right side?” Khabarov raised an eyebrow. “The right side for what?”

“Just thinking out loud.”

“Comrade General.”

Khabarov turned. Yuri had walked up behind him, General Vladimir and Afina in tow. Even from several paces away, Khabarov could smell the alcohol on the general’s breath - he fought the urge to cringe. He couldn’t stand an officer who drank on duty - especially when they were meant to be the theatre commander.

“Comrade Yuri,” nodded Khabarov, “General Vladimir, sir.”

“Khabarov,” growled Vladimir.

“Premier Romanov has been kept informed of your work in Pennsylvania, comrade,” said Yuri. “He has asked General Vladimir to convey his most sincere congratulations. Hasn’t he, Vladimir?”

Vladimir looked like he had just sucked on a particularly sour lemon. He reached into his jacket, producing an envelope.

“It gives me…” he seemed almost to choke. “...immense satisfaction to inform you that you have been awarded the Order of Suvorov, Second Class, for your… exceptional performance in the capture of Pittsburgh.”

Khabarov looked down at the envelope. It was sealed in wax and bore Romanov’s signature, and he wondered why Vladimir had been asked to convey it. A quick look at Yuri’s face answered that question. This was party politics in action, and Yuri was looking to reward his friends - and humiliate his enemies.

“Thank you, Comrade General,” replied Khabarov, taking the envelope and offering his hand. “It is truly an honour to receive this award. I am sure you have been rewarded likewise?”

Vladimir huffed and shook his hand, turning a bright shade of purple.

“God damn you, you son of a bitch,” he hissed.

Khabarov smiled.

“Now,” declared Yuri. “Let us see this tower activated. We have a world to win, comrades, a world to win.”

He strode towards the tower, Vladimir spitting angrily into the grass before following him. Afina took her place next to Khabarov, who was looking back at the tower.

“You aren’t going with Comrade Yuri?” asked Zofia.

“Dignitaries only,” she replied evenly.

“Ah, our classless system at work,” nodded Zofia.

They gazed on - the tower began to glow purple, electricity dancing along the sides like a giant Tesla coil. Khabarov tasted electricity and metal in the air.

“Vladimir is an aberration.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he turned towards Afina.

“Comrade?”

“A classless system should not reward such mediocrity,” she continued, her voice still even, almost emotionless. “Such arrogance. It should not allow for men strutting around with chests covered in unearned medals, growing fat on the labour of the people.”

Khabarov snorted.

“That is the Soviet system, comrade,” he replied. “Some men are more equal than others.”

“Not for long.”

Khabarov turned, but Afina’s gaze remained directed towards the tower.

“Comrade Yuri believes in a true Soviet system,” she said. “One free of these oligarchs and Napoleons. One where every body, every mind and every soul is truly equal. A truly Marxist system under a truly Marxist intelligence.”

“A Marxist intelligence?” asked Khabarov. “Like a computer?”

“He calls it the New Soviet Mind,” said Afina. “Every human on Earth, connected by a single consciousness. There would be no war, no hunger, no strife. All would be one.”

“Like a hive mind?” Zofia interjected. “I read of it in a novel. One singular group mind?”

“Indeed,” said Afina. “No Romanov, no Khabarov, no Zofia, no Afina, no Yuri. Only Man.”

Khabarov pondered.

“Well,” he said, “Yuri dreams big. I respect that in a man.”

Afina nodded.

“It may not be possible,” she admitted, “but it is a nice thought.”

She walked away, tucking her hands behind her back as she went.

“You think she’s mad, Lieutenant?” asked Khabarov.

“I don’t,” replied Zofia, “and that’s what scares me.”

Khabarov nodded.

“Still,” he said, “her master will be a good ally against Vladimir, yes? And besides…”

He pointed to the beacon, which was now throbbing with psionic power.

“...you can’t deny it’s an exceptional weapon.”

------

The Liberty Day Five

“...which would put Cherdenko in a position to threaten Albany. That, of course, depends on if he can muster the forces, which we believe is doubtful, considering issues with the Soviet logistic train in upstate New York…”

Hawthorne stood on the bridge, listening attentively to General Granger’s report in Columbus. The other officers on the bridge had allowed their attention to become distracted - Commodore Weathers and Biggs were whispering in the back of the room, while Eva was doodling at her desk. Even on the other end of the screen, they could see Carville lighting up a cigar while Vice-President Carter fought off the urge to doze off.

“...alright, Granger, you’re starting to talk yourself in circles,” said Carville at last.

“General Carville,” asked Hawthorne. “What’s our position in the south?”

“Hard to say, we haven’t been able to contact Louisiana in a while, but-”

There was an ear splitting ring, and the screen went dark.

“God damn it, are they jamming Columbus again?” demanded Weathers.

“I thought they hardened comms after last time,” grunted Eva.

“That’s the army for you,” sighed Biggs. “Looks like we just gotta wait until-”

A loud series of beeps filled the room, and white text appeared on the screen.

THIS IS AN EMERGENCY MESSAGE FROM THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES.

“Dugan?” demanded Biggs. “What the fuck?”

The door opened - Jackson and his bald assistant raced into the room, the former almost pale.

“Colonel, we’re getting a lot of unusual encoded traffic,” said Jackson. “It’s coming straight in from the Joint Chiefs, and it’s General Carville’s personal cipher.”

“Do you know what it says?” asked Eva.

Jackson shot her a meaningful look.

“Right, CIA, got it,” nodded Eva.

“Only four-star generals or higher are authorised to read it,” continued Jackson. “It’s gone out to Omaha and all of our regional commands.”

“What does it say, Jackson,” demanded Hawthorne.

“No encore.”

“No encore? Can you translate that for those of us that don’t speak spook?” demanded Biggs.

“No encore,” repeated Jackson. “It means cease fire.”

“It means give up,” the bald man clarified. “War’s over.”

“What?!” demanded Eva.

“My fellow Americans.”

Hawthorne held up an arm to silence them as President Dugan appeared on the screen. The President was pale and seemed clammy, and Hawthorne couldn’t help but notice that his eyes appeared cloudy and unfocused.

“For the past few weeks, I have been in discussion with Premier Romanov about his special military operations,” he said. “He has made it clear to me that the Soviets forces that we, erroneously, saw as invaders, are in fact liberators.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Biggs.

“For the past two decades, rogue forces within our government and military have been controlling both the American state and the lives of the American proletariat for the benefit of a sinister cabal of businessmen. They seeked to privatise your lives and to enslave your minds. The Soviets are here to dismantle this evil system, and in doing so, liberate our hearts and our minds. It will take some time for them to do this; they will need to occupy our cities and towns to root out the enemy.”

“What the hell is this?” demanded Commodore Weathers.

“Mind control,” whispered Jackson.

“Ma’am!” exclaimed Eva. “Our comms are being jammed! I just lost Omaha!”

“Rogue elements of our military, I am afraid, are continuing to resist the Soviets,” continued Dugan. “I have only now been able to contact General Carville, and have ordered him to issue orders that all US commands surrender immediately. He has complied with this order. My Vice-President, who was conspiring to keep the conflict going, has been arrested. In time, when America has been pacified, our military, hand-in-hand with the glorious Red Army, will return to take its part in the peaceful Comintern alliance, and will expunge this evil from the rest of the world.”

“Can you raise Fuller?” demanded Weathers. “Or Pearl Harbor?”

“Negative, sir, I’m completely locked out!” exclaimed Eva. “We have no comms at this time!”

Hawthorne furrowed her brow.

“Until that time, rest peacefully in your beds,” said the President. “The Soviets are our friends. We are now free.”

He smiled, and his eyes did not match.

“The war is over.”

The screen went blank, and silence swept over the bridge. For a long time, Hawthorne stared at the black screen, seeing her own face reflected in the darkness.

“Well,” she said. “This complicates matters.”