#lighting ideas southwest florida

[atomicdela-au]

Yet another post again. I know that I said that the next post will have characters but there are a few more posts that I need to make regarding world lore. This post contains info about the United Territories’ Commonwealths (formerly America/United States).

So as I mentioned previously there are thirteen commonwealths (Kinda like how the thirteen colonies are). These commonwealths are made up of the former States of America to band together so people have more access to more resources, etc.

Unlike in the Fallout Game universe, where the commonwealths were created before the bombs and the event known as the “Great War” started in the canon games, this AU has the commonwealths or territories develop after the war is over due to the struggle of survival.

This commonwealth idea came from the fallout lore, and I thought it would fit with this AU since it sounded interesting. I feel weird addressing that this came from the fallout lore, and in the future I might change this idea because I am kinda implementing this certain thing that is not originally my idea :’D

But I did mention that I was inspired by the fallout game lore so I don’t know if that changes anything.

United States Map (Before the War)

United States after the War (Or in this case within this AU, the United Territories)

The Columbia Commonwealth (Red)

The first commonwealth to talk about is the Columbia Commonwealth. It is comprised of the former states of Maryland and Virginia, as well as the District of Columbia.

East Central Commonwealth (Dark Blue)

This commonwealth is comprised of the former states of Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee.

Eastern Commonwealth/Appalachian Territory (Yellow)

This commonwealth has the former states of West Virginia, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and of course New York.

Four States Commonwealth (Green)

This territory comprises of the former states of Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico.

Great Midwest Commonwealth (Dark Grey)

This is the main commonwealth that the AU takes place (Because we know Mandela Catalogue takes place in Wisconsin) This commonwealth comprises of the former states known as Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan.

Gulf Commonwealth (Pink)

The Gulf commonwealth is combined with the former states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida.

New England Commonwealth (Bright Blue)

The former states within this territory are Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut.

Northern Commonwealth (Orange)

This territory comprises of the former states of Montana, Wyoming, North Dakota and South Dakota.

Northwest Commonwealth (Dark Purple)

This commonwealth is comprised of the former states such as Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Alaska, and the Northern Part of California.

Plains Commonwealth (Light Yellow)

This territory is comprised of the former states such as Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Missouri, and Oklahoma.

Southeast Commonwealth (Light Grey)

This commonwealth is made up of the former states of Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina.

Southwest Commonwealth (Light Purple)

The former states that make up in this commonwealth is Southern California, Nevada and Hawaii.

Texas Commonwealth (White)

The Texas commonwealth is probably the smallest alliance/territory. The former states that comprise of this region is Arkansas, and of course Texas.

That is about it for the general commonwealth information or lore. I know, it’s sorta of a boring post but I thought to put it out there. Stay turned for more posts. (I swear I’ll get to the characters soon, I just gotta ramble about this shit first lol)

[bahamapoolsswfl]

Unlocking Your Backyard's Potential: How to Choose the Perfect Pool Contractor in Southwest Florida

Building a pool in Florida is more than just an addition to your property—it’s a commitment to a lifestyle of relaxation, entertainment, and family fun under the Florida sun. However, the success of your pool project hinges on selecting the right contractor. This decision is critical to realizing your vision without delays, hidden costs, or disappointments. Here, we’ll guide you through the key factors to consider when choosing a pool contractor in Southwest Florida.

Essential Factors to Consider in Choosing a Pool Contractor

1. Licensing and Certification Your pool contractor should be licensed in Florida, ensuring they meet state standards and comply with local regulations. Certification from recognized industry associations confirms their expertise and dedication to high-quality workmanship.

2. Relevant Experience Look for a contractor with experience specific to Fort Myers and Southwest Florida. Local experience means they’ll understand the area’s climate, soil conditions, and regional regulations. A contractor with a robust portfolio of completed projects will more likely deliver a design suited to Florida’s unique environment.

3. Insurance Coverage Insurance is a non-negotiable when hiring a pool contractor. Adequate coverage protects you from liability if any accidents or damages occur during construction, providing peace of mind throughout the project.

4. References and Reviews A reputable contractor will have a trail of positive reviews and testimonials. Check online platforms, ask for references, and consult friends or neighbors for recommendations. Pay close attention to feedback about communication, timeliness, problem-solving, and overall client satisfaction.

5. Design and Customization Options Your pool should reflect your style and meet your family’s needs. A quality contractor will offer various design and customization options, from shapes and sizes to additional features like lighting, waterfalls, or spa elements. Their ability to accommodate your preferences is essential for bringing your vision to life.

6. Quality of Materials and Equipment The durability and longevity of your pool depend on the materials and equipment used. Inquire about the types of materials your contractor uses and their warranties. High-quality, corrosion-resistant materials are essential for Florida’s humid and salty environment.

7. Portfolio Review Reviewing a contractor’s portfolio can offer insights into their design versatility and alignment with your vision. Look for experience with the desired features, such as infinity edges, beach entries, or intricate tile work.

8. Communication and Accessibility Effective communication is key to a smooth construction process. Choose a contractor who listens to your ideas, responds promptly to queries, and provides updates throughout the project. Good communication helps to avoid misunderstandings and ensures your project stays on track.

9. Budget Transparency and Cost Estimates Discuss your budget openly and ask for a detailed, transparent estimate. A reliable contractor will provide an itemized breakdown of costs and avoid hidden charges, helping you stay financially prepared from start to finish.

10. Familiarity with Local Regulations Fort Myers has specific building codes for pool construction, particularly regarding safety and environmental standards. Your contractor should have a solid understanding of these regulations to ensure compliance, avoiding potential legal issues.

11. Clear Contract and Timeline Make sure all agreements are in writing. A detailed contract that includes timelines, costs, design plans, and project milestones will safeguard you from misunderstandings. Having everything in writing establishes accountability and sets expectations for both parties.

12. After-Sales Support Reliable contractors offer post-construction support, including maintenance, repairs, and warranty claims. A contractor committed to after-sales service is invaluable, as they’ll be there to help with any issues or maintenance needs down the road.

Why Choose Bahama Pools?

Bahama Pools is a trusted name in pool building and is known for adhering to these high standards. Their licensed, experienced, and highly rated team serves Southwest Florida with expertise in designing and building custom pools tailored to your vision. With Bahama Pools, you can expect clear communication, high-quality materials, and unwavering dedication to making your dream pool a reality.

Selecting the right pool contractor involves carefully considering these factors to ensure a successful project. By prioritizing licensing, experience, insurance, and communication, you’ll be on the path to a beautiful, functional pool that enhances your property and lifestyle.

Your Trusted Florida Licensed Pool Contractor

Call Bahama Pools at (239) 445-5530 or message us online to discuss how we can bring your vision to life. We’re excited to help you design and construct a pool you and your family will enjoy for years. 

[the-firebird69]

They're cold cold air here it is cold air it's frigid okay it is very cool out it is probably around 50° right now in the shade all over Southwest Florida in most areas and it's a little cooler onshore

-and there are several or other things happening they are bringing the light that the riders were made by us and they are planning to execute them all and John remillard is the one who opened his mouth and it wasn't really going along much no

-it's cold air down here it's abnormally cold and it's not the iceberg that's way out to sea although it would bother it but the air is cycling down to the northern portion of Brazil and then up so it doesn't make sense and lucky that it's doing that or be freezing here freezing temperatures it's going to get colder and soon it will be frigid during the day and below 30 at night for several days and you should know that's going to be them taking off and our son says I thought it has been the past few days have been very cold at night and we do say this he's observant it has been in the 40s and some places around 38 is going to take a dip and that's another thing the other ships will cause us to happen too it won't be as bad but when you're having it will be similar. And the women who are riders are obnoxious as well and sticking to him and he can't do anything because of them. They are trying to hide a little.

-we suspect the launches are going to occur sometime early this week possibly and it's going to be quite an event and they're going to start attacking these riders momentarily. And the s*** head arrived again and this little square backpack seeing stupid things. And you people are nuts okay you're telling people you need to leave and it's supposed to be a signal and that's what they're saying they are but holy crap going insane pile of old demented s***

-so I guess their idea of getting it together is coming to the mall in a bunch and kind of walking around and it is ridiculous it's almost commenting her son was laughing and laughing and did nothing moved it a little and the other is probably got him out of there because he's such an ass but the ships are going to be up and they'll be going up into space and they will be leaving and it's about 12 shifts five of them are class A there's about 11,000 miles and then there's one at about 8,000 and then there are about seven at 500 to 1000 and that's about it but these are huge the volume there 10 times the volume of ships that size and they're all tummy f so they're not the class a Mac ships.

-the writers are apparently becoming aware they're being persecuted and we think there's a lot of them here I'll be like a million. And stick to him and sit there threatening and they get their asses kicked you just keep doing it and the stupid

-his other news we're going to publish now this is huge

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[ear-worthy]

The Love / Hate Affair Between Podcasts And Radio

 Remember a time when radio shows posted their shows as podcasts, sometimes without even changing the format. It was as if the podcast version was an afterthought. A brand extension, with the radio program being the mother ship.

Oh, how the worm has turned. Podcasting is ascendant, and terrestrial AM/FM radio fights off competition from podcasters and its evil twin sister, satellite radio via SiriusXM Radio.

A recent case study by Cumulus Media -- which owns Westwood One, a massive radio network -- proposes that promoting podcasts on AM/FM radio is a successful marketing strategy.

 This week’s Cumulus Media | Westwood One Audio Active Group® blog outlines a case study recently done with Cumulus Podcast Network podcasts that reveals why AM/FM radio is a great place to promote podcasts. A majority of the podcast audience also listens to AM/FM radio and vice versa: Edison’s “Infinite Dial” study reveals of the weekly AM/FM radio audience 45% listen to podcasts weekly, 55% listen to podcasts monthly, and 77% have ever listened to podcasts. Edison’s “Share of Ear” study finds in a typical day, two-thirds of podcast listeners also listen to AM/FM radio. As podcast reach soars, promoting podcasts on AM/FM radio becomes a stronger marketing platform: According to Edison’s just released Q2 2023 “Share of Ear” study, the 25-54 daily reach of podcasts has exploded over the last three years. Currently, nearly one out of three American 25-54s listen to podcasts each day. The greater the time spent with AM/FM radio, the greater the awareness for the promoted podcasts: Overall, 54% of the Cumulus radio audience was aware of the eight Cumulus Podcast Network podcasts. A much larger promotion of heavy AM/FM radio listeners (67%) were aware of the podcast titles. Podcast advertising recall: Heavy AM/FM radio listeners (over the air and streaming) are more likely to be aware of ads for podcasts on AM/FM radio. Specific podcast promo awareness: Among heavy AM/FM radio listeners, there is 3X more awareness for specific podcasts promoted on AM/FM radio versus light AM/FM radio listeners. Podcast tune-in consideration: One out of four heavy AM/FM radio listeners and 29% of heavy AM/FM radio streaming listeners said they were likely to try listening to the promoted podcasts. It is interesting that a large company that owns both radio stations and a podcast network would compile such a study. 

On a similar note, Beasley Media Group has partnered with Podcast Radio and KMG Networks to unveil a new podcast multiplatform radio format in four regions across the company. The unique format will be available to listeners via broadcast in multiple regions on Beasley stations, including: Detroit: 93.5 FM and WCSX-94.7 HD2 Tampa: 1010 WHFS-AM Charlotte: 94.7 FM and WSOC-HD3 Ft. Myers / Naples: 96.5 FM/101.5 FM & 105.1 FM and WXKB-HD2 In addition, fans of spoken word content will also be able to stream the first four custom stations and discover new podcasts via the PodcastRadioUS.com website. The stations and digital channels will be branded as Podcast Radio Carolinas, Podcast Radio Southwest Florida, Podcast Radio Detroit and Podcast Radio Tampa Bay. Each region’s podcast content will be supported with localized imaging, promos, and ID’s. Podcast Radio features live “Podjocks”, including former KROQ-FM (Los Angeles) Personality and Legendary Radio Hall of Famer Gene “Bean” Baxter. The format will showcase the very best produced and popular podcasts from the U.S. and all over the world, including audio content from TedAudio (TedTalk), Wondery, Evergreen, Corus, and more. The initiative with Beasley is the first of its kind for the company in the United States. The format will be offered to radio stations and groups on a network/barter basis via KMG Networks. AdLarge Media has been selected to facilitate the network advertising sales. “Podcast Radio is an idea that Caroline Beasley and our team have been thinking about and researching for years, and we’re excited to be the first to launch this format in the United States,” said Beasley Media Group Chief Content Officer Justin Chase. “This concept has been highly successful for Gerry and his team in the United Kingdom, and we believe our audience will fall in love with the Podcast Radio U.S. version we present on our stations.” “We are beyond excited to be working with Beasley as a forward-thinking and innovative company,” said Gerry Edwards, Founder & CEO of Podcast Radio. “Caroline, the team, and Beasley’s great station brands will make fantastic first movers into the Podcast Radio format as they embrace this unique new radio content as a leader in both broadcast and digital.” We'll have to see how this union of podcasting and radio works out. 

To me, it's reminiscent of the gunfight at the OK Corral.

Who will draw their guns first? 

[emanslandusa]

Unlocking Your Dream Home: Exploring Cape Coral's Best Properties for Sale

A Handbook for Getting Around the World of Cape Coral Real Estate for Sale

Think about waking up to the gentle breeze that seems to go on forever, like an endless canvas, greeting you every morning. This is our chance to extend a warm welcome to you and make you feel at home in Cape Coral, a dream come true with endless possibilities where your perfect house is just waiting to be constructed. This blog post will help you navigate the world of property for sale in Cape Coral, Florida if you're looking for a piece of this coastal paradise to call your own.

Setting Your Goals: Understanding Different Property Types

Shoreline Allure

Beachfront Bliss: Envision a house where the skyline and the ocean converge. Direct access to the water is provided by beachfront properties, letting you fully enjoy the coastal lifestyle. This selection captures the essence of the Cape Coral experience, with its jaw-dropping vistas and tranquil wave noises.

Canal Life: Picture your lawn flowing smoothly into the canals. Real estate for sale in Cape Coral, Florida, is known for its canal-front houses, which not only offer breathtaking beachfront views but also the convenience of having your boat docked right outside your door.

Locate, Locate, Locate: Getting Around Neighborhoods

Harbor Secrets

Southwest Serenity: Contemplate the southwest as a peaceful haven. In addition to having close access to the Caloosahatchee River and stunning sunsets, this location offers a more tranquil ambiance. This might be the perfect neighborhood for you if you're looking for a quiet haven.

Excitement in the Southeast: Visualize the Southeast as a colorful tapestry. For individuals looking for a combination of food, entertainment, and seaside living, this region is ideal because it is close to well-known locations like Tarpon Point and Cape Harbour.

Beyond the Budget: Matching Objectives with Finances

Astute Investing

Budget Brilliance: See your spending limit as a compass that directs your decisions. Establish a precise spending limit and look at residences that fit within it. Don't forget to factor in other expenses like real estate taxes, homeowner association dues, and prospective remodeling.

Prospective Outlook: Contemplate your home as an investment in your future. Think about the possibility of appreciation over time in addition to the original outlay. A wise choice could be both your ideal house and a worthwhile investment.

Expert Advice: Consulting Real Estate Specialists

Directing Light

Local Agents: Think of real estate agents as your Cape Coral guides. Local experts are well-versed in the communities, market, and homes that are available. Their knowledge can help you choose the ideal fit for your tastes and expedite your search.

Advisors on Law: Consider your legal counsel to be your security guards. Hire legal professionals to go over contracts, make sure everything goes smoothly, and protect your interests all through the purchasing process. Their knowledge guarantees a smooth transition to property ownership.

In summary

Dream homes in the Cape Coral real estate market are more than simply buildings; they are entryways to a way of life characterized by the allure of the shore and the splendor of the natural world. See each step as a brushstroke that adds to the masterpiece that is your future as you set out to find the greatest property for sale in Cape Coral.

Consider your property as a blank canvas on which you can paint the narrative of your life, complete with beach walks in the morning and boat cruises around the canals at sunset. In this scenario, the kind of property, the location, and the financial factors are all crucial. It is possible to make sure that your dream home is more than just a vision, but rather a real, waiting to be embraced, by clearly describing your idea, exploring the neighborhoods, staying within your budget, and getting professional advice.

[lanaibrightsblog]

Rely on Lighting Ideas Southwest Florida for the Best Lighting Solutions

Lanai Bright offer best lighting ideas in Southwest Florida. Find new ideas for your home and your business, with a huge inventory of fixtures at affordable prices.

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (2/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 2: The church

Y/n puts the vehicle in gear carefully making a U turn and starts down the road in a westerly direction. Her original plan was find refuge in one of the larger towns along North Florida’s citrus belt such as Lake City or Gainesville- still seems viable despite the fact that the engine continues to ping and complain- something has come loose during the plunge to the woods and she doesn't like the sound of it. They need to find a place to stop soon look under the hood, get their wounds looked at- rest maybe, maybe find some provisions and fuel.

“Hey look!” Nick speaks up from the shadows of the rear seats pointing off to the Southwest at the end of the lot.

Y/n drives another 100 yards or so and then brings the Escalade to a stop at the gravel shoulder. She kills the engine and silence crashes down on the car’s interior, it’s almost deafening. Nobody says anything at first- they just stare at the road sign in the middle of the distance. It's one of those cheap translucent white fiberglass ones, set on wheels with the big removal plastic letters still bearing the words “Calvary Baptist Church all welcome Sunday 9 -&- 11.”

Through the spindly Cypress trees and columns of pine that line the road, she can see the luminous white gravel of a deserted parking lot. The long narrow lot leads to the front of a building, it's broken stained glass windows partially boarded up. Its steeple caved in on one side and scorched as if its seen a bombing raid. She stares at the huge steel cross at the top of the steeple- which is covered with a patina of rust- has come loose from its moorings.

It now lays upside down dangling by the remains of its rotted hardware. She can't help but get very still while gazing up at the ruin upended cross, the symbolism isn't lost on her but it may only be the beginning. She never been one for religion but realizes that this may very well be a sign that they've been left behind and this is the rapture and the world is a purgatory now. They’ll have to deal with what remains like junkyard dogs or vermin stuck in a sinking ship.

“Remind me”she says almost under her breath not taking her eyes off the building in the distance one of the windows in the rear has a dull yellow incandescent glow, behind it the chimney is spewing a thin wisp of smoke into the lightning sky.

“how much ammunition did y'all manage to scavenge before we left Calhoun?” the two young men give each other a quick look

Nick speaks up “I have one of the 33 round mags for the Glock and a box of two dozen .380s for the other pistol and that's it..”

“That's more than I managed.” George grimaces “all I managed to grab ammunition wise is what was in the office which I think it's like 6 rounds, maybe 8?”She picks up her Glock from the seat counting the number of times she's fired since they left Calhoun she's got six rounds left.

“All right gentlemen ... I want you to bring all of it, all the hardware locked and loaded.” she opens the door “and look alive…”

The two men get out of the vehicle and join her in the Golden light of the dawn. Something is wrong, Nick notices His hand are shaking as he injects a fresh magazine into the hilt of his pistol

“Y/n, I don't understand” he says finally.

“what are we loading up for? I doubt there's anything in there but scared church people. What are we doing?”

But she's already started down towards the church- her Glock is gripped tightly in her hands, arms dangling at her side like a calling card.

“It's the end of the world boys there's no such thing as church anymore it's all up for grabs…”

The two young men glanced at each other for a moment before hurrying up to catch up with her. They approached the property from the rear, through the grove of sickly eucalyptus trees that mark the outer edges of the churches lot. She can smell the stench of menthol and ammonia in the air as she creeps across the weed whiskered gravel, careful not to make too much noise when her boots crunch under the stones. The light in the chapel's rear window has dwindled with the morning sun and the roaring of crickets fade now, the silence returns over making her heart throb in her ears.

She pauses behind a tree about 20 feet away from the lighted window ... With a few quick hand signals she rouses the two who are hiding behind a nearby oak. Nick moves out from behind cover carrying the pistol against his solar plexus like a vestigial appendage. George moves behind his friend wide eyed and jumpy flinching at the twinges of pain. These two are not exactly the crème de la crème in the world's new survivor class she realizes but perhaps she should see these young men as they truly are. Loyal partners, and friends- surviving all the same.

She issues another signal stabbing a finger at the rear of the building. One by one the three of them move toward the small woodside annex off the rear of the Chapel- she’s in the lead her pistol now gripped in both hands, now pointed downward. The closer they get the more the sun rises over the horizon the more they realize something isn't right. The windows of the building and rectory of the deacons quarters are lined with aluminum foil. The screen door has been ripped off its hinge and the inner door is nailed shut and crisscrossed with lumber. The stench of the dead permeates the air and gets stronger as they approach. She reaches the building first and she gently stands with her back against the boarded door signaling the others with a the tip of her finger to her lips.

They approach as quietly as possible, stepping lightly over the trash and dead leaves that are skidding across the back of the deck in the morning breeze. George stands just behind her, while Nick keeps to her side, both keeping weapons at the ready. She reaches down to her scuffed boot and pulls out a 12 inch Randall knife from the interlining. She carefully wedges the point under one of the boards near the door latch and Yanks.

The door probes stubborn. She pries at it repeatedly with the knife making more racket than she cares to but she has no choice they would make even more noise if they had tried to break through one of the windows. The nails give slightly the creaking sound amplified and the hushed daylight. She has no idea of what they're about to find inside this building but she fairly certain now that both humans as well as the dead inhabit this place.

Zombies don't build fires and the average survivor with the access to soap and water doesn't usually smell like death. The door finally gives and the two men moving closer to her, guns up now as they enter at the same time. They find themselves in an empty room illuminated by dim yellow light and the smell of stale smoke and Bo smacks them in the face. She crosses the floor, her boots making the floorboards creak. She makes note of the small potbelly stove still radiating the heat of the dying embers, the braided rug stained with blood, a desk littered with teabags, dishes, candy wrappers gossip magazines, a few empty 44 bottles and crumpled cigarette packs…

She goes over to the desk and looks down at the display of playing cards arranged in the classic poker pattern it looks like somebody, likely a hand full of people, were here only a moments ago and left in a hurry. A noise from behind the inner doors suddenly takes her attention. she whips her head around to the source, both men stand across the room gazing sheepishly back at their leader.

Again she puts a four finger to her lips giving them the signal to hush. The two mens eyes are aglow with nervous tension, on the other side of the door shuffling noises build, the telltale sound of dragging feet. There's also the reek of mortified flesh almost as pungent as the methane and it's getting stronger. She recognizes that a number of undead are trapped in an enclosed space. She turns and points to George’s shotgun.

Nick understands that he's supposed to blow the lock off the door and George is supposed to back them both up. Neither young man is very happy about this plan. Nick looks pale and George is drenched in sweat both of them nursing wounds and perhaps even internal bleeding. Neither seem gung ho about fighting off and undetermined number of biters. But she is an irresistible leader and the mere look in her eyes is enough to kill any dissension in the ranks. She holds three fingers up. She begins to countdown. 3, 2-

A loud crack sounds as a rotten hand covered with mold burst through the weak spot in the lumber.

Nothing in reality ever seems to play out the way George imagines it should. He trips on his backward shuffling feet and falls on to the floor. The pain in his ribs explode the injury jostled by the impact and at the same time another pair of hands thrust their way through the busted slats of the door. Looking up he sees she has pulled something from her boot. He watches as a dull gleam of a Buck knife strikes through the air. She drives the blade through the tissue and cartilage sawing through the bone it’s hands flopping to the floor as neatly as tree limbs being pruned.

George watches as he tries to sit up, the back of his throat burns and his body threatens to upchuck the paltry contents of a stomach. Things are moving quickly now, hands are flopping around him like fish on a boat’s deck, slowly growing still as the electrical impulses from the reanimated central nervous system drains out. George’s vision blurs his mind swimming dizziness gripping him as his wounded lungs labor to get air.

She's already scooped the fallen shotgun from the floor pumping shells into its breach with a single jerk of her arms as she turns back to the door George manage to get himself back up into a standing position kicking the ghastly hands out of the way . She slims a boot into the door and it implodes revealing the interior of a dark Chapel. Nick gets a fleeting glimpse of the sanctuary before the 1st blast shatters the tableau.

What was once a quaint little church with stain glass and pine pews now resembles an arbiter from the 9th circle of hell. The dead number in dozens maybe as many as 40 or 50 most of them chained to the pews with heavy chains. They react to the light of the outer room as if she had just turned over her oktan exposed a colony of vermin.

Insensate faces jerk towards the noise, some are decorated with spiked collars and others have large makeshift cage like muzzles. The scene gives a a sense of some sort of demented zoo or kennel for these reanimated cadavers. Stranger still, in that terrible instant before the first flash of the 12 gauge, it seems like somebody apparently tried to administer these beings after they were reanimated.

In front of each are dead birds morsels, pieces of roadkill or unidentified human remains are scattered in the pews next to each being. The candles still burn in the same sanctuary on the advert stands in the front room on the modest little altar. Somewhere the buzz of a live microphone drones. The air smells of modified sewage perfumed with rancid flesh and disinfected.

Nick gets one final glance at her before the air lights up- the look on her face is a mixture of sorrow, rage, loss and regret. It's the look of someone confronting the merciless abyss. Then the shooting starts.

The first blast flashes and takes the closest cadaver down in a puff of carnal tissue, the shell ripping through the skull and taking a chunk out of the wood above the door. Three subsequent shots happen, making their ears ring. Already covered with blowback her anguished face stippled and splattered, she now moves deeper into the Chapel and starts in on the others.

It only takes a few minutes, the air flashing like a fireworks display as she goes from pew to pew, either vaporizing skulls or thrusting her Randall knife through petrified nasal cavities before the things even get a chance to bite at the air. George staggers towards the open door to get a better view and he notices Nick just in the side Chapel entrance.

She has the strangest look on her face now as she finished off the last of the monsters with a hard quick slashes of the knife the gun has been emptied, 8 shells peppering the wall behind the heaps of moldering flesh. Completely slick with blood, her eyes burning with inscrutable emotions, she almost looks beatific as she dispatches with the last re animated corpse .

For one terrible moment watching this all from the doorway Nick thinks of a woman having an orgasm. She lets out a voluptuous sigh of relief as she impales the skull of what seems to be an elderly woman. The Crone sacks against the back of her Pew, she was once somebody's mother, somebody's neighbor. She may have once baked cookies for her grandchildren search for famous bread pudding add ice cream socials and laid to rest her beloved husbands of 47 years in the Cemetery out behind the rectory .

Y/n pauses to catch her breath staring down at the woman, head bowed for a moment, when all at once she abruptly stops and looks up narrowing her eyes. She cocks her head to one side and listens closely to something in another part of the building at last she fixes her gaze on George and so softly whispers

“do you hear that ?”

@the-wandering-pan-ace

[lokilickedme]

The Queen of Springtown

I’m going to tell you a story.  It’s a true story.  There’s a bit of conjecture here and there to fill in empty spots, but not a lot.  It’s a story about my grandmother - my paternal grandmother, not my maternal grandmother - I feel the need to specify who exactly it is because mom’s mom has a bit of a story too, but that’s for later.

This one’s about the one I’m going to call Elizabeth.  Elizabeth was her middle name, it was a family name, it belonged to her mother and her grandmother I believe, though I didn’t know any of those people so I couldn’t swear by it.  The family records are long gone if they ever existed.

Elizabeth’s last name was one of those romantically ridiculous names that still clung to old families at the turn of the century.  It had a lot of extraneous letters at the end, a handful of unnecessary and partially silent sounds that looked beautiful in the flowery handwritten script of the time, a noble sounding -eaoux that did little more than tag a fancy sounding o onto the back end.  A lot of fuss for such a little piece of sound.  And when Elizabeth’s grandfather moved his family from France to Ireland and signed the manifests upon arrival in the new old land, he dropped the -eaoux and shortened the family’s name to four tiny letters and a single syllable.  They were Irish now.

Elizabeth’s father carried the new name and the new heritage, and when he was of age he went and married an Irish beauty named - yep, Elizabeth.  They say she was redheaded and blue eyed and fair skinned, though no pictures exist to prove it.  All that exists is my grandmother, who supposedly looked just like her mama.  She didn’t remember Ireland...she was too young when her daddy moved his family to a new land just like his own daddy had done, and she never really told anyone she was Irish.  No one actually knew, once her parents were gone.

But you could tell.  She looked it - flame red hair, china blue eyes, fair skin.  She had the bones of whatever French nobility had been in her lineage from way back, but her colors were the Emerald Isle all the way.  A beauty like you’d see in the movies, petite and ladylike and perfectly put together.

But my god that woman had a wild streak that dated right back to the Celts whose blood made up half of what she was.

(continued under the cut because long story)

So Elizabeth grew up in America, the daughter of an Irish mother and a French father.  She had brothers and sisters, quite a few, though I never knew any of them.  I believe I met two of them when I was too young to remember much about the encounter, but I’ve always found it hilarious that one of her sisters was named Bill.  Bill, like the man’s name.  I never found out why and I’m not entirely sure there was ever actually a reason.  It was just one of those things.

The newly American family settled in Texas.  And when Elizabeth was very young - probably not yet in her 20′s, though nobody knows for sure just how old she actually was because it’s likely she tended to fib a bit about her age to get into places she had no business being - she got herself involved with the Texas mafia.

Now let me tell you a thing or two about the Texas mafia.  It wasn’t an official operation - not like the Italian Mafioso or the Eastern Syndicates or whatever the hell was going on between Florida and Cuba at the time.  But it was every bit as dangerous and vicious and bloody and corrupt as any of those bigger organizations, and it was led for the most part by a man I’m going to call Big Joe.

This was the early 1940′s or thereabouts.  Elizabeth was a party girl - up for anything, always out and about, girl-gang at the swing club, the works.  And Big Joe saw her in the club one night, it may very well have been his club she was dancing at, and the proverbial first-sight thing kicked him hard in the gonads.  This girl was a looker, and she was dancing with everyone in the place, whooping it up, living life like tomorrow it was all going to take a header into the sea.  He had to have her.

And he did.

Big Joe was likely in his late 30′s, maybe early 40′s.  There’s not a lot of information on him other than a handful of facts mentioned once and only once by my grandmother to my aunt - that Big Joe was a handsome man, big and tough and a snazzy dresser, and he always had enough money in his pocket to take Elizabeth anywhere she wanted to go and buy her anything she wanted to buy.  And Elizabeth, party girl extraordinaire, was all up for that.

So Elizabeth and Big Joe become a thing.  Everybody knows she’s his squeeze - and suddenly not a male soul in Dallas or the surrounding metropolitan areas will dare to lay an eye on her, not even a quick glance, because she’s Big Joe’s girl.  And that means something.  Elizabeth doesn’t know quite what it means because she’s likely not even 20 yet, but Big Joe is fun and romantic and he takes her on trips and buys her nice clothes.  He buys her a ring, a blood red garnet, a ring that I inherit many decades later.  He’s going to marry her, he says.  She doesn’t care much one way or the other, she’s having too much fun dancing every night in his club, traveling with him, going shopping, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous of the Southwest.  She’s all but a star, protected and adored.  Big Joe’s men follow her everywhere she goes when she’s not with him.  And Big Joe starts going out of town without her a lot, taking care of business that he never tells her the details of.

She’s cool with that.  He’s a businessman, that’s what he’s always told her.  Things to take care of out of town.  The Boss.  He has a lot of operations to oversee, operations that make all that money he spends on her.

She has no idea what he actually does.

All she knows - or cares to know - is that when he comes back to town he ushers her around town in his big fancy black car, buying her furs and expensive dinners, showing her off to society.  When he isn’t slapping her around...but hey, that’s part of the deal isn’t it?  It’s the 1940′s, and Big Joe is very much a man of the era.  Women grew up knowing they’d have to take the back of a man’s hand from time to time, and Elizabeth knew which side her bread was buttered on.  She kept Big Joe happy, put a smile on his face, did the old grin-and-bear-it on the rest of it.

And then one night Big Joe comes banging on her door.  He’s frantic.  He pushes a set of keys into her hand - keys to the fancy black car that takes her everywhere - and tells her to keep it there, at her house.  Don’t drive it anywhere, just keep it there.  He’ll contact her soon and tell her what to do.

He leaves in another car with one of his men, and that’s the last time Elizabeth ever sees him.

A few weeks later she gets a letter from Big Joe telling her to drive the car into Grapevine Lake, on the far side by the shoals.  Don’t open the trunk, he says.  Put a brick on the gas pedal and put it in drive.  Do it at night and make sure nobody sees you.

That night Elizabeth picks up her best friend and they drive the car to Grapevine to do as Big Joe said, sinking it in the murky green water on the far side of the lake.  The two girls - just girls, barely even women yet - stand on the shore watching it disappear into the deep dark.

A week later Big Joe is shot to death.  A deal gone bad maybe, or a competitor moving into the territory.  Nobody really knows - grandmother never said.  Don’t think I haven’t done my research...I know what I know, and according to a nearly nonexistent little trove of newspaper articles microfiched in a tiny little library in Azle Texas that isn’t even there anymore, odds are very likely that Big Joe went down in a shootout with the Dallas Police Department.

Elizabeth never opened the trunk of that car.  At least she said she didn’t...it’s one of the many things that nobody ever knew or will ever know, because once she shut the door on that part of her life and moved on, it might as well have never happened.  Getting this much out of her was outrageously difficult.  Thanks to my very tenacious and very persevering aunt, what I’ve just told you managed to survive.  It’s very likely my aunt was the only person she ever told, and it’s very likely I in turn am the only person my aunt ever told.  And now my aunt is in her 70′s and in poor health, and this little unknown family story has started poking around at the back of my skull.  I don’t want it to be lost.  I don’t like the idea of soon being the only person alive who knows it.  It’s not a spectacular story, but it’s testament to the fact that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people, probably more often than you’d think - and that those ordinary people sometimes take it all to the grave with them.

Elizabeth - my dad’s mom, my grandmother, the one I look like and act like and laugh like, the one whose cheekbones and eyes and hair and size I was born with, passed away twenty-something years ago.  She lived through some extraordinary things.  After the demise of Big Joe she married an oil roughneck, one of the semi-transient oilfield workers that were prevalent in the Texas Panhandle at the time, and had two children with him - one of whom was my father.  The roughneck was the epitome of the James Dean romantic brooding bad boy type, handsome and manly, but unfortunately also a scoundrel who had a second family in another city that he went to every other month when he traveled to another rig for work.  She left him when she found out.  It was almost unheard of at the time, a young mother taking her two little kids and leaving her husband to be on her own, but she did it.  And when my father was 12 she met and married a very tall, very handsome, very Cary Grant-esque railroad worker who loved life every bit as much as she did.

They were together for the rest of her life.  I’ve never to this day seen two people more in love than Elizabeth and Jesse.  I spent many summers in Texas with them and not a night went by that I couldn’t hear them giggling in the next room after lights-out, talking and laughing quietly until granddad’s wallshaking snores echoed through the house.  It just about killed him when her heart gave out.  But she was old, and she’d lived a life worth living.  There was nothing in her face in those final moments that could ever convince anyone she wasn’t ready and willing to go when the time came.

I’d been married for a couple of years when she died, and my husband and I traveled to Texas for the funeral.  The first night there, as my aunt brought out grandmother’s jewelry box and told me to take whatever I wanted, the story was passed from her to me.  And when it was all told I opened a little drawer in the bottom of the jewelry box and pulled out an old garnet ring that I’d seen before, when I was a small child snooping in grandma’s stuff.  I’d always been fascinated with it...it just looked like it had a story to tell.  That’s it, my aunt said.  That’s the ring he gave her.  That’s all she ended up with.

It was the only thing I took.

The church was so full the next morning you’d have thought it was the final sendoff for some local celebrity.  Everybody loved my grandmother, everybody, but this was sort of astounding.  Some of them I knew from my childhood, from many many summers spent in the Panhandle, but people came from all over to say goodbye and nobody in the family knew who a lot of them were.  They just showed up, some of them cried, some just stood in the back of the church all stoic in black suits.  Some were very old.  And when it was over and I turned around to watch a group of distinctly important-looking old gentlemen quickly and quietly leave the building, I looked over at my aunt and pointed at them.  She arched her eyebrows in that way she always did, that way, the way that said What did I tell you?? - and I wondered if maybe all those years ago some of Big Joe’s men hadn’t pulled that car out of Lake Grapevine and found the trunk empty.

I mean...this is Elizabeth we’re talking about.

[sticks-and-stone]

Potts Preserve

September 21, 2019 - September 22, 2019

This was my first time camping since February when I went with my roommate and the dog we had at the time. Before that it was just camping with my father as a kid or drunk with my friends in high school (trips I almost don’t remember at all). So this trip was a pretty big deal with very few expectations or preparedness. I wanted to find a hobby that would not cost much, but would require significant planning and time out of my life before, during, and after. So camping seemed like a good fit. I decided to start planning monthly trips. So this was the first one!

When I first decided to go on this trip, I had next to no supplies. I wanted to go with whatever I had or could improvise as a way to get started on a list of things I wanted to add to my kit. What better way to figure out what I needed than to realize it in the moment! 

This trip was only going to be a quick overnight so that in the event that we realized we had too little, we wouldn’t be stuck out there for days. I found a site that was owned by the Southwest Florida Water Management District and was free to use with a reservation. So I booked the site and called up an old friend, Jenna. Jenna and I did a lot of drunk camping together in high school and she had a foundation of camping with her own father as a child, so I knew she would be right for the job. She and I had also gone a long period of time without hanging out, so it was a good opportunity for us to catch up! 

When we began planning this trip, I had a tent, and some other small stuff, but not a whole lot of anything else. We borrowed a cooler from my roommate, a chair from my parents, and just bought beer on our way out to the campsite.

I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before getting up midmorning on Saturday to meet Jenna and go, but I ended up staying up late. Like a child before her first trip to Disney World, I was restless, excited, and hyperactive. When I woke up (too early) the next day, all that excitement was squashed when I realized I had started my period. I was worried this would happen, but I was hoping my Day One would be on Sunday, but alas, I was going to have to go camping on my period. And not just any camping trip, a camping trip that I wasn’t totally sure I was prepared for. As it turned out, the portable toilets were close and clean enough for me. YAY!

Jenna showed up exactly on time - I really have to give her props for that. She helped me load up the car and then we took off! We stopped at my parents' house (they were out of town) for a little firewood and one of their camping chairs (Jenna did not have one) and also at a gas station for beer and snacks. Then we were on the road for real; it was about midday.

The drive down was quicker and easier than we expected. After not seeing each other  for a few years, we had PLENTY to talk about and catch up on. She told me about all of her drama, I told her about all of mine. It was lovely. We arrived at the campground without getting lost or even a little turned around at all. There were about 4 other groups there already set up and as it was late afternoon on a Saturday, everyone seemed to be pretty settled in. 

We found our spot. Unlike the other spots that people had set up around us, we did not have a fire pit, a picnic table, or a grill. Everyone else seemed to have all three. We didn’t mind and we found a nice flat place to lay our tent out. We found out later that what we chose was not a spot at all and that we were not even supposed to be back there. 

We got the tent set up and I began to work on the air pump that I had borrowed from my roommate. I needed to strip the wire so that I could split it and plug it into the car battery that dad gave me to run the fan. We had no other form of electricity and no other way to pump the air mattresses up. I broke it. I ended up strippping the wires too much and the whole contraption became non-functional. We were only there for one night, though, and what’s sleeping on the ground other than the authenticity of a camping trip? 

From the time of arrival until just before dusk (about 3 hours) we thought it would be nice to open up the tent to allow the breeze and light to enter it. Well, neither did and what did enter our tent was about 10,000 love bugs. So I went in there with our one bottle of bug spray and closed myself in. I held my breath and sprayed the shit out of the aerosol canister until I was sure everyone was dead and I could not hold my breath any longer. 

To give the homemade bug bomb a chance to work, we decided to explore the area and go on a hike. We made it about a mile away from camp and it started raining. The trail seemed to come to a dead end so we just turned around and went back. I have a terrible sense of direction and would have honestly gotten completely lost if it hadn’t been for Jenna to guide us. 

We got back to camp after our hike and I checked on our tent - no more living love bugs, but piles of dead ones on the ground. It was gross. I got Jenna and the broom and we got rid of as many of the dead bodies as we could. We would shake the rest out the next day when we packed up to leave. 

We sat around the fire and played the guitar for a bit when suddenly I realized that we were going to get bored. We had been drinking beer since we arrived and we'd been going through it pretty fast. I never really thought about how to pass the time.  

I went walking around looking for firewood. I had nothing to chop it with or nothing to cut the large limbs, but I could use leverage and my body weight for most of the work I needed to do. 

The entire time we were there, I made sure to keep a list of all the things I thought about having that we didn’t have. The first being string, the next, an air pump that plugged into the car. Then a sponge. I started to realize that we had enough to survive in the woods, but we did not have enough to THRIVE. This trip was rough supplies-wise, but we made do. Thankfully we brought enough beer to ward off TOO much boredom.

As the sun went down and the alcohol made its way further into our bloodstreams, we decided we were hungry and wanted to eat the food I had brought for us. What I had brought was really simple. It was two pre-made PB&J sandwiches, pre-made mac and cheese, and PB&J crackers. 

Dinner was a disaster. The sandwiches I made got soggy from the ice melting and the container failing to do its job in the cooler. The mac and cheese was attempted cold, but then it was decided that we would put it in the pot in the fire and see if we could heat it up. That actually worked out pretty well - but was all we had. Luckily, Jenna came armed with hummus and crackers and had bought some beef jerky at the gas station. 

We went to sleep soon after dinner and made sure we got nice and drunk first because we had forgotten that we were sleeping on the ground that night. After all the alcohol, I was ready to crash. My body temp was high though so I put on the fan and slept on top of my blankets. 

About halfway through the night I was woken up by the feeling of my bones turning to ice and cracking. I was violently shivering in my bed and wasn’t sure my toes were still attached to my body. I had to pee too. So I stood up clumsily in our little tent and put on my shoes. I looked over and Jenna was fast asleep but now wearing more clothes than she went to bed in - I guess she woke up the same way I did.  

I walked to the bathroom and peed. I took comfort in the smelly plastic bin as it seemed to have held on to the day’s heat and trapped it inside. I was suddenly disgusted with myself for enjoying a port a potty, so I walked back to the tent. 

When I got inside I turned off the fan. I looked through my suitcase - nothing but more short sleeved shirts and shorts. I took my shoes off but left my socks on and covered them with a second pair. I took the folded king-sized sheet off of my deflated twin size mattress and used that as extra cover in addition to the small throw blanket I had.  I was able to make it a few more hours like that until the urge to pee woke me up again. 

This time, it seemed warmer outside the tent so I took my double pair of socks off and slipped on flip flops. Jenna was still asleep so I stumbled out of the tent toward the bathroom. I handled my business and came back to the tent - this time, no lingering in the port-a-potty for warmth. 

As I approached the site, I saw Jenna moving around outside the tent with her flashlight. I assumed she was doing the same thing I was - taking a midnight pee - but as I got closer I could see that she was in fact setting up the fire. As I got close enough I asked if she was trying to warm up so she could sleep, and she looked at me confused and said “No, this is today’s fire, it’s 6:30”. I was shocked and confused, but proud that we had made it to morning.

We had no breakfast. So we drank more beer. We were out of water, so I decided it was time to leave. We packed up quickly and cleaned the tent and tarps and then we were on our way out. 

As we tried to exit the gate, our code wouldn’t work and we had to wait for a forest cop to show up and let us out. We probably waited an hour or so, but when he finally did arrive, he was super nice and as it turns out, from Jacksonville! We chatted with him for a while until a car pulled up behind us. We were finally on our way home! 

The ride home was a bit different than the ride there. We double and triple checked my list and talked about all of the things we HAD to get for next time, which things I already had at home, and which things needed to be purchased. Overall the trip was fine, we decided, but we could do WAY better. 

Observations: 

SO MANY LOVE BUGS - they literally covered everything 

We needed to pack the car more strategically - we had to pull everything out to get to the tent and table that we needed to set up first 

We needed rope/string

More stakes for the tarp and the tent would not be a bad idea 

A table or some platform to unpack on would be handy 

Our air pump broke - we needed one that plugged into the car. 

It's super important to keep the tent closed completely. 

We needed a shovel to dig out the fire pit 

We needed more lights around the site - the fire was not enough 

Citronella candles would not be a bad idea either 

Should have brought extra bug spray

We didn’t have much to do beyond sitting and drinking beer. We vowed to bring at least some books and crafts for next time. I want to learn to whittle. 

I needed to stay more organized with the supplies as we unpacked. Things got messy.

Get Outside, 

Stone.

[forsetti]

On The Myth of American Individualism

In light of people completely, and sometimes arrogantly, defying public health recommendations to address a pandemic in the name of “Freedom” and “American Individualism, I thought I'd repost this article I wrote in 2012.

Recently, New York Times resident hack pundit, David Brooks, wrote an article arguing that Republicans are the party that “celebrates work and inflames enterprise”.  The GOP come from a long lineage of hard working, God fearing individualists that can be traced back through American history from Mitt Romney to the first Pilgrim who stood, buckled shoed, atop Plymouth Rock. Here are his opening two paragraphs: “The American colonies were first settled by Protestant dissenters. These were people who refused to submit to the established religious authorities. They sought personal relationships with God. They moved to the frontier when life got too confining. They created an American creed, built, as the sociologist Seymour Martin Lipset put it, around liberty, individualism, equal opportunity, populism and laissez-faire.

This creed shaped America and evolved with the decades. Starting in the mid-20th century, there was a Southern and Western version of it, formed by ranching Republicans like Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush. Their version drew on the traditional tenets: ordinary people are capable of greatness; individuals have the power to shape their destinies; they should be given maximum freedom to do so.”

For Brooks, America was built by hard working people who cowered from a smiting God, lived like Ted Kaczynski , didn’t accept handouts and loved the soft reach around from the Invisible Hand.  From this great tradition sprouted great men who were the salt of the earth, ordinary men who lived off the fruits of the sweat of their brow.  People like Mitt Romney and George W. Bush, two men who grew up in luxury, went to topflight prep schools and colleges, were able to walk into business with a long list of powerful, influential people already in their contact lists and didn’t fuck up and when they did, had other doors and opportunities open for them because of who they are and who they knew.  I highly doubt that John Q. Colonialist could get a government bailout to safe his business (Romney) or have one failed business after another yet have people willing to throw money and opportunities at you over and over again (Bush).  

On the claim that Republicans are the party of work and this tradition has been passed down from John Smith and Patrick Henry to Laura Ingalls Wilder and Belle Starr, I call “Bullshit!”  This country was discovered, settled, expanded, progressed and rose to the world’s greatest economic power because of the community, not the individual.  This love affair and worship of individualism in America is not based on its history or facts.  It is a complete myth.  A myth that has become a fundamental underlying principle of today’s Republican Party.  A myth, that Jim Jones-like devotion to has resulted in horrible, often progress stifling, policies.  It is an even more deeply rooted myth in conservative lore than Ronald Reagan being a tax cutting, small government, hard line hawk.

The first wave of immigrants that came to America came for economic, not religious reasons and they didn’t migrate to our shores to frolic in the Fountain of Laissez-Faire. They were employees, mostly indentured servants, of major trading companies who sent them here to harvest resources like timber and furs.  They were “company men”, not individuals who were looking to forge a new life by braving the elements or testing their mettle. The manner in which they worked and lived was communal.

The next wave of people coming to America was the religious immigrants.  For Brooks, this meant the hardworking, God fearing Protestants who sired America’s work ethic, loved the eight pound, six ounce baby Jesus and who planted the love and respect of individualism into the country’s psyche where it grew and flourished for three hundred plus years and can now be seen in the standard bearers for the Republican Party. Unfortunately, “There goes another wonderful theory about to be brutally murdered by a gang of facts.” (author unknown).

There certainly were groups of very devoutly religious people who came to America during this time. However, what Brooks conveniently omits are the multitude of the other groups that also made their way across the Atlantic to avoid the religious persecutions and heavy handed dogma in Europe. Atheists, Deists, Agnostics, etc., left Europe for the New World because of the religious environment in Europe.  Being part of the religious wave didn’t mean you were religious, it meant you left because of religion.  There were just as many, if not more, non-religious, non-fundamentalist immigrants to America during this period than the “Forebears of Freedom and Republican/American Greatness” as Brooks would have it.  This group played as much a role in America’s formation as a country and culture, if not more, than the Puritans or Quakers.  Some of the non-religious people who played a bit part in the formation of America include: Thomas Paine, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, Benjamin Franklin, Adam Smith…

The fundamentally religious in early American history was not the dominant group and it was not individualists.  They in fact were the opposite.  They were communal socialists.  In order to afford ship passage to America they often pooled their money together to ensure they could travel as a group. They formed settlements where they helped build each other’s homes, businesses and defenses.  They had community storages and would mete out food and other resources as necessary.  They didn’t cut off someone who was sick.  Instead they would get together and, as a group, figure out the best way to address this or any other problem. What they didn’t do is as they were ascending the gangplank of the Mayflower wave to each other and say “Good luck!  Maybe I’ll see you around.”  They stayed together, worked together and helped each other.  They didn’t abandon the sick and weak or withhold food or shelter.  If you want to see the modern day version and descendants of the early religious settlers to America, visit the Amish community in Ontario Ohio or Lancaster Pennsylvania.  The Amish, Mennonites and similar groups have been the ones to continue the traditions of the early settlers.  One word that is never used in describing these groups or their members is ‘individualism’.

Not to mention that there were a lot of other settlers in the early America who were not the Protestant, white New Englanders yet had just as much impact on society and culture then and now.  The Spain heavily influenced Florida, California and the American Southwest.  France’s influence was felt all along the Mississippi River and Great Lakes areas.  To ignore or deny these groups’ impact on American culture in favor of a tiny sliver of white, New England Protestants, is intellectually dishonest.  Brooks takes a sliver of early America, ascribes general characteristics to it that were not true and then claims these traits are what made this country great.

Let’s fast forward a dozen score years or so to the early 1800’s and visit another group of people touted as the champions of The American Spirit of Individualism-The Pioneers.  You know the salt of the earth, lovers of capitalism and all things holy, the people who settled the West and spread the seeds of rugged individualism like they were John Holmes at Burning Man. According to people like Brooks, the Pioneers were the hardworking, Bible toting, individualist progeny of John Smith, William Bradford and Adam Smith.  Again I call “Bullshit!”  Hardworking? Absolutely.  It was pretty difficult to not have to work hard to survive during this time unless you were filthy rich.  The technology at the time was better than it was in colonial times but it still wasn’t good enough to diminish the day-to-day demands of life in the 1800’s.  Individualists?  Hell no!  I don’t even know where this idea came from.  Even the most cursory look at this era shows quite the contrary.

Remember the stories and pictures of the Pioneers moving across the Great Plains along the Oregon Trail? Did they make this trek one wagon at a time, as individuals?  No. There is a reason they were called wagon trains because they moved as groups.  When they arrived at their intended destinations did they head off in different directions and go all Jeremiah Johnson?  No. They either joined settlements already in progress or started their own, as a group.  They moved as a group, built communities as a group, defended their properties and families as a group…  I come from Pioneer stock.  My genealogy tree has a branch that goes back directly to Brigham Young (of course with 56 kids from 16 of his 55 wives, you can’t swing a dead cat along the Wasatch Range of Utah without hitting someone who is related to Brigham).  Every single aspect of Mormon history, from moving to and building up Nauvoo Illinois, to crossing the prairie, to Brigham leading the faithful into the Salt Lake Valley through Emigration Canyon and pronouncing “This is the place”, to building Salt Lake City was a group, not an individual activity.  It was so communal and such a collective effort that Marx and Engels would have been “Whoa, lighten up a bit, let a brother get some alone time.”

One argument against my take is-“These groups had to band together for pragmatic reasons.  There were extenuating circumstances and variables that forced them to operate as a group in order to survive.”  My response to this critique is-“Yeah.  Your point being what?”  Either working together, spreading out risks and rewards works and yields positive results or it doesn’t.  What the reasons are for doing so are irrelevant.  It doesn’t and shouldn’t matter what the reasons are for opting for the group versus the individual approach.  I fail to see how changing the reasons either changes the efficacy or the results.  Another way of looking at it is to ask the question, “Do you think they could have achieved the same results via the individualism route?”  There doesn’t seem to be any historical evidence to support that they could.  I’m skeptical that the Pioneers didn’t know how to deal with the big issues they faced and followed the community approach to problem solving out of ignorance, stupidity or tradition.  If you think they could have achieved the same or better results by acting as individuals, I would need to see some evidentiary support to back up this position.

The next defense of individualism is along the lines-“That was then, this in now.  The world has changed so the need for the community approach has diminished in importance and has been replaced with the superior, individualism approach.” There are two main problems with this argument.  First, Brooks and the defenders of individualism are not saying, “The community approach WAS the driving force behind early American exceptionalism but now it is the individual.”  The view they hold to be innately true is that it WAS individualism that made America great. Individualism brought to this country by God fearing, religious freedom seeking, hardworking  Europeans, passed down through the generations or absorbed by some sort of osmosis where the trait, like blond hair to Scandinavians, is dominant in conservatives.  Brooks and company might admit that the community approach played a role, just not THE role in making America great.  It was individualism that built that.  Uh......., no.  

Second, the “but the circumstances have changed and the individual plays a fundamentally more important rule” argument is also bullshit.  Certainly the nature of the problems have changed.  We don’t typically worry about packs of wolves, marauding Indians, small pox, the plague, dysentery, being snowed in an unable to get food for weeks in today’s society.  We live in a much more technologically advanced world where these types of problems have adequately been addressed and dealt with.  When it comes to many of the problems and situations that faced the early settlers, we will never face them.  Why?  Because are Founders and those that came after them, as communities, found solutions to those problems.  But, just because those problems either don’t exist or are rare does not mean that we currently are sans problems.  With the advancement of technologies, the world has expanded where people are not limited to living in a small area of the world most of their lives, where commerce and ideas travel around the world at an unbelievable speed.  We’ve gone from regional to a world economy. While the small, regional problems of the past have been handled, there are larger often global problems that need our attention.  I don’t see how, if individualism couldn’t properly deal with the small, regional problems, it can possibly take care of larger ones. If anything, the larger problems need a larger community.

Imagine a small town in Nebraska in the late 1800’s whose local bank is having a cash flow problem.  The town needs the bank so they come together and as a group, deposit enough money to keep the bank going.  Fast forward to September 2008 where the large banks and financial institutions in the U.S. who have branches across the country and all over the world and also have deep, financial ties to other countries’ banks.  They have a serious cash flow problem.  One of these banks was Bank of America. Imagine the B of A branch in Minden Nebraska, population 3000.  It doesn’t matter how community minded and organized the kind citizens of Minden are, nothing they do can safe their local bank from collapse because it belongs to a much larger entity.  So, in order to address the problem, the definition of community needs to expand. The financial problem was nationwide so it took the entire nation to adequately address the U.S. banking problem.  The global financial problem took the global community to address and fix it. It is not that individuals have not made significant contributions but outside the arts, very few have had a big impact on the economy or culture of America.  What makes America great and the advantage we have over just about every other country is our diversity. Homogeneous societies can accomplish a lot and often quickly because as a group, they think pretty much alike.  Their greatest limitation is thinking outside their cultural box.  America, with its wide diversity of cultures always has voices outside the box providing input.  This is a major force behind our innovations and progress the past couple of hundred years.

Name a major economic event in America’s history that was the result of individualism.  There might be some but the majority are ones undertaken by either groups or the government (group) for the betterment of its citizens (huge group).  Louisiana Purchase, Seward’s Folly, Transcontinental Railroad, Interstate Highway System, Tennessee Valley Authority, Space Race, WWII, GI Bill, Erie Canal, St. Lawrence Seaway, Panama Canal, Hoover Dam…all were paid for by the group, built by groups and benifitted groups of the population.

Individuals who have been put on the pedestal of individualism didn’t accomplish what they did by themselves.  Edison is thought to be one of America’s greatest inventors (Tesla was much better but Edison was a better marketer). Growing up, the image of Edison was him laboring long, arduous hours by himself in is laboratory. The reality is he had a very large team of some of the world’s top people working in his lab in Menlo Park and was heavily funded.

Individualism is important and certainly has played a role in America’s rise to power.  But, individualism didn’t have the starring role in “Making America Great”. That role was played by a cast of thousands.  Individualism was a bit player whose name wouldn’t come up in the end credits until half the audience had already left the theater.

[npcbestpoolrepairfl]

What are the Causes of Pool Water Loss?

Why is your pool losing water?

It is every pool owner’s wish to conserve water daily. That is why especially in drought-stricken states, pool owners cannot afford to lose hardly any drop of water from their pools.

If you are a pool owner and you notice that your pool is losing water, then you are possibly experiencing a pool leak. But since identifying leaks in a swimming pool can be a difficult and expensive task, it is imperative that you determine first whether your pool is losing water because of a leak or simply because of evaporation.

It is normal to panic if you notice that your pool is losing water. However, remember that pool water loss does not necessarily mean that your pool has a leak. Well, it may be a true leak, but it may also be simple evaporation.

Typically, a pool that has no heater, no waterfalls, and other features can lose as much as a quarter-inch per day because of evaporation. That is more than one and a half inches in a week. Although this is the high side of evaporation and most pools lose less than this, it’s a reasonable guideline when it comes to evaporation.

For most swimming pools, evaporation is the main cause of water loss. In fact, pools in the southwest lose all of their 18,000 gallons of water every year through evaporation. While you have the option of using pool covers or solar blankets to cover your pool and reduce evaporation physically, they do not ensure that your pool completely stops losing water.

What are the causes of pool water evaporation?

Several factors contribute to pool water evaporation. These include exposure, temperature, and humidity levels.

·         Exposure

If your pool is always exposed to the sun and wind, expect more water loss. This is because the more your pool is exposed to these elements, the higher the chances of evaporation.

If you want to avoid excessive evaporation, you may want to cover your pool with a screen. Typically, a screened pool will evaporate less than an unscreened pool. You may also surround your pool by a fence, some trees, or a structure so as to prevent excessive evaporation because structures like these cause your pool water to evaporate less, especially when your pool is facing an open sky.

If your pool is located on a lake, a golf course, or a large piece of land, you may also want to take additional measures to limit the evaporation. Pools that are located in these areas usually evaporate more than pools that are not. 

·         Humidity

The higher the humidity, the lower the evaporation. That means in areas where humidity is low, the chances of evaporation is higher.

If you want to understand how humidity actually affects your pool water evaporation, imagine a towel or sponge. The air is like that. The drier it is, the more water it can hold. 

Humidity levels vary from area to area and from season to season. In Arizona, for instance, where summers are dry, evaporation is higher than in Florida where summers are typically wet. 

·         Temperature

During the cooler months in Florida, there is a stark contrast between the high and low temperatures. Sometimes, the gap even goes in excess of 25 degrees. Because of this, pools tend to heat up during the day and evaporate all night.

If you turn on your pool light at night and notice that there is a mist above your pool, that is your pool water evaporating. This process happens all night, every night.

How will you know if your pool has a leak or if it is merely water evaporation?

As I said, identifying a pool leak will not only burn a hole in your pocket but it will also drain you. The tedious process of identifying a pool leak requires professional pool operators who have the equipment that can easily detect pool leaks.

At Nelson Pool Company, we help pool owners like you identify if your pool is losing water because of evaporation or a leak by using an ultrasonic machine. If we detect that there is actually a leak in your pool, we may require excavation and replacement of pipes, depending on the size of the leak.

If you want to see for yourself if your pool actually has a leak, there is a simple test that you can perform to confirm a leaking pool. Called the “Bucket Test,” this test eliminates all outside causes so you can easily confirm a leak. If the result of this test turns out negative, then you know that your pool is losing water simply because of evaporation.

To perform the bucket test, look for a bucket that is about 5-gallon tall. Place some kind of weight into the bucket and fill it partially with water.

After partially filling the bucket, place it on your pool steps so that its top is above water level. Once you have already placed the bucket on your pool steps, fill the bucket with water until the water level in it is the same as the pool water. As you do this, make sure to turn off any fountains or waterfalls because they cause more evaporation than undisturbed water.

You will wait for 24 hours before checking the water levels.

The idea behind the bucket test is that since both the water inside the bucket and the pool water are subjected to the same temperature, humidity, wind, rain, etc., it will be easy for you to identify if the water in your pool is leaving through evaporation or through a leak.

If your pool is losing water through evaporation, then the water inside the bucket must also lose as much water as the pool because they should evaporate at the same rate. If you notice, however, that after 24 hours your pool water is less than the water inside the bucket, then you will know that there is a leak.

During the dry season in Florida, an eighth or quarter-inch of water loss per day can be considered reasonable evaporation. If your pool is losing more than this, you may suspect a leak. This especially rings true for pools that do not run waterfalls, heaters, or other special features.

If your pool loses more than enough water per day over the course of at least four days, then it is very likely that your pool is experiencing a leak. In that case, you may want to consider contacting a highly rated pool leak detection and renovation company. Contact us, Nelson Pool Company, at 941-256-4079 and we will get your pool back in tip-top shape again.

In case you can not view this video here, please click the link below to view What are the Causes of Pool Water Loss on my YouTube channel: https://youtu.be/JOWsgqrLTEA

[printmakersopenforum]

Next up in alphabetical order - #PrintCamp2019 participant NICOLE GEARY!

WEBSITE: www.nicolegeary.com

ON HER WORK:

I believe my work is in a metamorphic state, much like the rocks I adore studying and collecting. I am transitioning from hiding myself and my feelings in landscape to exposing and eroding that format to show the form of my body that has been hiding inside. I’ve spent ages building a protective barrier to shield myself from feeling the raw and haunting pains that the world can bring onto the body, but this year I’ve learned to let the rockfaces crack, to erode the surface, and to yield to weathering and aging and breakage. I feel I am undergoing the metamorphosis. I plan to do more emotive drawing and printmaking that will reference the body, marrying the ideas of rocks and mountains as my surrogates for myself. My work needs to evolve as I feel I am.

WHAT SHE WILL BE DOING AT PRINTCAMP:

I would like to learn some more non-toxic methods or habits if possible. I work in a low toxicity studio at Southwest School of Art, but for setting up my own home studio I wish to find the best practices and materials to continue my work.

SKILL SHARE:

My Skill Share will be about a topic I call Faux-to Gravure. In graduate school I learned how to do photogravure and loved everything about it (including the process) but recently I was exposed to a different way to add digital elements to prepared copper plates using Pure Etch film and high-quality transparencies for inkjet printers. The process relies on creating a bitmap to replicate a dot pattern that will hold the greys and blacks in your plate like an aquatint but recreates a very accurate photo image. I have a prepared handout already that I have shared with several colleagues and I can put together a powerpoint presentation on the step by step process.

RESUME:

MFA U of S Dakota: Vermillion Printmaking

BFA U of Florida: Gainesville

SOLO / 2-PERSON

2018 In the Dirt, Osage Arts, Osage, MO

Sticks and Stones, Parchman Stremmel Gallery, San Antonio, TX

2017 Tracing the Former World, Desert Light Gallery, Mojave National Preserve, CA

At An Angle, Studio 111, San Antonio, TX

2016 Omissions, Providence Gallery, San Antonio, TX

[iamagarbagepotato-blog]

A Potato Appears [Part 1 of 3].

Just to put this out there immediately: this is **NOT** a ProAna/ProMia blog, and I do not condone or encourage any of the actions or behaviors I express in this blog.

Now that that’s out of the way; Hi. I’ll call myself Sophia, I’m 29 years old, study full time in college, work as a server/bartender, and I have been struggling with bulimia since 2014. I had stopped in 2015, but severely relapsed in 2017. The only people that know are myself and the counselors I saw in 2014, my dentist, and the therapist I see currently.

I wanted to start this blog because I do not feel brave enough in my external life to talk to any friends, family, my boyfriend, or even my general practitioner doctor about this problem. Mostly because while I am not severely underweight like I was in 2014 (in fact, I do have a normal BMI), my laxative abuse is real and I feel as if it is consuming my life to the point where it interferes with my work, my social life, and especially my current academic life.

 I’ll fill in some background information and clue y’all in; just be aware that it’s a novel... 

Humble Beginnings (2013-2015)

I was 23.

It was early summer where I was living in southwest Florida, and the weather was unrealistically hot and humid. I had just come home from a very expensive grocery shopping trip for my boss at work (I was a bartender for a popular Mexican restaurant in the area) for one of my other boss’ going away party. I was tasked with making boozy treats for the adults. I remember them vividly; champagne cupcakes, chocolate Modelo Negro cupcakes, strawberry margarita cupcakes, Corona cupcakes with lime and beer buttercream, and Blue Moon cupcakes (because why not?) with orange and beer buttercream. I had posted a selfie of myself about halfway through covered completely in flour and other baking messes when a guy I had known from my days of marching drum corps messaged me. Let’s call him Mike. I had always thought he was attractive and very musically talented, so I entertained his flattering messages, and eventually we hopped on Skype as I continued baking while he sat on his couch drinking Bud Light. 

He had made some forward comments; I didn’t mind because Florida had done my body good, even after my retirement from drum corps. He mentioned possibly coming up to visit him in Ohio, to which I said wouldn’t be a problem. He asked if I was serious, and I asked him if he was.. we set a date and I was off to visit Ohio two or three weeks later. 

Once I landed, things with Mike were awkward, at first... but they progressed fast and hard. After a couple of months of visiting, I decided to move there permanently. I was also offered a chance to finish my music degree (which was something I had put off since 2011 and desperately wanted to complete) and was offered a position with a small, local, volunteer orchestra. 

In early January of 2014, I had set out on the long 1200+ mile journey to move everything I could fit in my car from Florida to Ohio. I decided to not move in with him right away and instead lived with a roommate that was also a mutual friend of Mike’s, and she was dating the employer I had when I moved to Ohio. I was all set; I was working as a bartender, performing music on the side, meeting new people, and was set to start school in the fall later that year. I was dating one of the best musicians I knew that not only shared my love of orchestral music, but that of competitive marching music too. I was being shown off, and was enjoying life in a new city with new people. 

Well, in March my roommate decided to take a few months-long trip to someplace off the grid. I could not afford the apartment on my own and was still a bit too new to the area to scour for a new roommate on such short notice, so I hesitantly moved in with Mike, and that’s when things started to get a bit weird. He had noted that even at his age at the time (32), he had never had a girlfriend live with him, nor had he ever had a girlfriend longer than a year. We worked opposite schedules, him teaching mornings and afternoons, and myself teaching students in the late afternoon before working nights in to late night. He had begun to make a few comments about how I had put on weight for my first winter in three years and it started to get on my nerves.

His behavior became weird at this time; He needed attention on him at all times. One incident I remember in particular was after an orchestra rehearsal, we had gone to a bar with friends and a lot of people at the bar started talking to me (mostly about my instrument and about the concert program for when/where they could see it) and Mike just busted out his instrument and started playing so people would acknowledge him. Thinking about that now still makes me incredibly uneasy. It was around this time, I started thinking that he might have had a drinking problem. Each night I’d come home to a 30 pack of Bud Light gone in a day and a half, and I know that I don’t drink that stuff, even in my worst of states. Whenever we’d go to parties, bar performances, or comedy shows, he’d always be the one drinking. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but looking back now, I missed a lot of red flags. 

Around June, his comments about my weight had gotten on my nerves a bit more, and I was a bit on edge because I had started a second serving/bartending job a few weeks prior in a new upscale place. I became increasingly suspicious when he began concealing his phone. I’m not an overly paranoid girlfriend that wants to know your business, but his behavior became odd. I grew suspicious that he may have been talking to, or even seeing someone else while I was working two jobs and teaching my music students.

It made me think that it was my fault... that somehow with me becoming more and more unattractive was the reason he was being led astray. So I started running, and I started running a LOT. It was hard because, yeah, I was out of shape, but I also have asthma. I became frustrated when I couldn’t complete a time or distance that I wanted, and I’d punish myself for that by forcing myself to purge by vomiting. The first time was so hard, but seeing all the stir fry I had made and consumed hours before expel from my body and being flushed away gave me a sense of cleanliness. I was so glad to be rid of that. In my mind, I did deserve it. I would deprive myself of foods, and what little I did eat would be expelled when I could get away with it without suspicion. 

Eventually I did something terrible; I did look at his phone and did confirm that he was not faithful to me. I was a bit scared about whether or not I should confront him about this. Most nights when he’d be drinking, he’d become emotionally abusive and would become unnecessarily argumentative with me to the point I’d breathe a sigh of relief when he’d pass out on the couch instead of crawling in to bed with me. When confronted, he immediately pinned me as the bad guy by going through his phone. In retrospect, it definitely wasn’t the smartest idea, nor the most honest, but it gave me the answer I was looking for and confirmed my suspicions. He became angry and so irate and I don’t remember much of what happened next other than a series os smacks across the face and jaw and being pushed down on to the bed we once shared and had “relations” in just hours before. After he had yelled at me so much that his spittle grossly mixed with he blood on my face, he strangely apologized, got up, and passed out on the couch for the remainder of the evening. 

I layed there on the bed motionless for hours, thinking that this could have been avoided if I had just stayed thin. I didn’t know what to do; I had no friends that weren’t also his, I had no family (the closest was 6 hours away), and I had no money to run or go someplace else. I only got up that morning to shower and notice that one of my farther back anterior teeth was missing (and still is, but it’s hardly noticeable, but it is a constant reminder). To this day, I am unsure of my tooth dislodged because of the force he was using, or because the damage I had done to my teeth from throwing up so much. It remains a mystery. After he came to, we had agreed that until I found someplace else, I would have complete access to the bedroom and it would be my space and my space only. I chose this room because it was the only one in the apartment with a functioning lock.

I had felt pretty terrible medically about a week later; I had more severe cramps than normal and my menstrual blood was extremely heavy and different in appearance. I promptly went to the doctor to see what the problem was. Turned out that I not only miscarried at 8 weeks without even knowing I was pregnant because I was taking a birth control pill and we used condoms, but I also had a stomach ulcer. The physician noted the dramatic decrease in weight (140lbs in the winter to about 110lbs in mid-June) but noted it to be from the ulcer and the stress of the miscarriage. I had every opportunity to say that I was bringing and purging and refusing food; I could have said something about needing help in my dangerous situation... but I did nothing as he gave me a prescription for Effexor.

I became very quiet in the house, and was scolded often for not acknowledging his presence when I’d enter or leave a room he was in. He became so controlling and wanted to strip me of my privacy so much that he actually removed the door from the hinges so that the only privacy I had was in the bathroom. A few weeks of this and we’re finally in to July of 2014. He bought us tickets to see the baseball team play on the Fourth of July; which was a nice gesture and I went because I wasn’t working. I was very quiet because the Fourth of July is a somber holiday for me because my favorite uncle committed suicide on that day in 2006 and the memory still plays vividly in my mind every year. Around the third inning, Mike looked at me quietly watching the game, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “A few of my friends are here; I’m going to go sit with them.” Not long after, I gathered my things, hopped on the train, and walked back to the apartment only to discover that we only took one set of keys; his keys. So I sat at a bar for the next eight hours, watching the game, and glancing out the window to see if I would see him walk by so I could be let in. We were both very quiet after that. I had duct-taped a shower curtain on to the door frame just to have a small bit of privacy afterwards. 

About a week later, Mike had reconnected with a guy friend he only saw occasionally since high school. They’d drink together and from hearing their conversations and hearing the beer cans being thrown in the recycling box that they both had problems with controlling their alcohol. I am unsure of why I was so judgmental of this when I couldn’t control myself when it came to binging and purging on a daily basis. His friend would often make comments to him about trying to get us back together, calling me Mike’s “cute suburbanite girlfriend” in the process. I was probably a jerk for eavesdropping (but he took away my fucking DOOR so he kinda asked for it) but this was the only time I ever heard Mike admit to someone that he had a problem with alcohol; both of them admitted it to each other, actually. At this point, their conversation moved outside and I have no idea what happened next until the next morning because I had fallen asleep watching a film with headphones in.

I had woken up the next morning to the sounds of knocking on the door; it was one of Mike’s friends asking for his spare glasses. I was confused because I didn’t see Mike anywhere or any sign that he had returned from when he had been out with his friend the night before. Turns out, he and his friend had gone on a walk and had gotten in to a physical altercation. To this day, Mike claims that I somehow conspired to set it up, but after what had just happened to me, I would never risk any physical harm on another human being, especially maliciously and violently. In light of this, I immediately called my mother who lived six hours away for her to wire me some money so I could come home immediately. I stayed for a week while Mike stayed with his parents nearby in order to give my job some minimal notice and to cover all my grounds with our mutual landlord. 

When I came home to my mom, I was 102lbs and couldn’t bring myself to purge in her tiny home when she and her dog would hear me and investigate. I caught treatment silently through a local program, but ceased shortly after when my hectic life of working three jobs became a bit too much for me to worry about anything else. I thought I was free from bulimia.. until 2017 hit me like a ton of bricks.

Part 2 will continue soon... 

[lanaibrightsblog]

Lighting Ideas in Southwest Florida That Will Impress

It can be overwhelming to find the best lighting for your home. Lanai Bright's Lightings Ideas in Southwest Florida has a wide variety of light fixtures and outdoor lighting for you to pick from that will inspire your creativity. Create a look that feels like home with our wide selection of lighting.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Unchained (2015 Remaster)" on YouTube

He has shrunk in a little so it's not really too early and we have to help him grow a little. And when the oxygen heads will grow up more it's kind of point it is like bja and he was mutated in the womb and people want to know how and this is recent times and we have blocked a lot of it and we're getting a lot of the tapes and people are studying we don't want them to have a secret that he grows and then it'll be more obvious than something to change and more people look at it Matt thinks is better because he stays like he is and people stop trying to make him smaller by for us and using us and diet and and more he'll become big very big and he would stay big and it'll be a very curious thing and he says that people will try and get him in the hospital to test his blood see if he's infected see if he's eating bug juice then be testing people to see if they're feeding it to him they want to see if he's got a mutant inside or if he's a mutant and just endless stuff from the hospital and we're taking over the hospitals most of them it's a slow going then all of them all at once. And he seen more lady okay and he's produced a lot of it. And there are a few things you should know about him he is not tolerant of you people but you don't want to do any program and we noticed that to you sitting around it's kind of weird is sitting around doing nothing he has them for you to do you complain LOL you start doing it it's a real pain in the ass you're really not doing anything you're going to sit here with the blockade and we want to the neck is trying to do stuff off and on and he has to do it that way I guess it's the system but gross so we're working very hard and we have ideas and things to do today one of them is we're moving in coming in here and we're building stuff or occupying part of it or building a lot of stuff this place is starting to come alive and that is Southwest Florida and we don't have time for all these idiots saying no so give me a place to go and they're leaving to Tortuga and they're going out there shortly and they're going to calico and they're going to find their people at 7:00 a.m. over there so it's too late for the skydive although we say it happened this morning and it has not happened yet. So it's going to go on shortly if they're going out to the huge Force and then they're going to probably try for the light cycle facility since they got a bunch of light cycles and traced them there

Thor Freya

Serious lack of respect and you're completely ignorant about what we can do to you s and it's very annoying there's no deterrent there at all and you just end up dying and we have to keep up with the volume so I'm going to turn that up because you don't give a s***

Hera Zues

I'm writing the orders and I'm sending them he's supporting me Hera

We're doing this job together but she points it out because she's doing a ton of work we found out and he is too but she does a lot of it. And it looks like him because he's the man. We have a ton of stuff going on too a lot of it's because of her it's this program with houses and more and we're sending in tons of material and equipment and carpenters and laborers and electricians to do the work and we're doing it now and there's a huge number of houses being built by the way about 2 million and too many more will start up and really it's not enough to see too much believe it or not and we deliver the materials real fast so they're not floating all over the place but people will see it and hear it and see working everywhere and people want to go to fort Myers now to look at the ship and there's a massive number of people going there it's massive and there's Workman too going there and they're going to rip things down and they're going to sit there and study and it's going to be a fight but that's what they want to do. We have huge shipments of lumber and CMU and more going by land and it's probably going to create and build another 4 million houses so do you have to eat out of 20 million and after the 20 million we're going to start building new houses and apartments these are new houses as well but they're replacing houses that were destroyed and we mean houses all over the place in 20 million and 20 million is not a lot it takes a while to get the stuff there and we looked at our son's idea and we think the highway is too dangerous so we might do a tandem or two but not that many there's too many people messing with it and we try to test and it's true they all come out. And what's going on now is people are getting rid of these more lock they're attacking them and the ships are up over cities all over the world and of course I can see them they can hear them and the exhaust makers make it hotter and they're going after them and there aren't any in Florida that's what we say at least

Olympus

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, October 5, 2022

California wells run dry as drought depletes groundwater (AP) As California’s drought deepens, Elaine Moore’s family is running out of an increasingly precious resource: water. The Central Valley almond growers had two wells go dry this summer. Two of her adult children are now getting water from a new well the family drilled after the old one went dry last year. She’s even supplying water to a neighbor whose well dried up. “It’s been so dry this last year. We didn’t get much rain. We didn’t get much snowpack,” Moore said, standing next to a dry well on her property in Chowchilla, California. “Everybody’s very careful with what water they’re using. In fact, my granddaughter is emptying the kids’ little pool to flush the toilets.” Amid a megadrought plaguing the American West, more rural communities are losing access to groundwater as heavy pumping depletes underground aquifers that aren’t being replenished by rain and snow. More than 1,200 wells have run dry this year statewide, a nearly 50% increase over the same period last year, according to the California Department of Water Resources.

Knocking on Every Door, Rescuers Search Fort Myers Beach After Ian (NYT) On the third day after Hurricane Ian pulverized Fort Myers Beach, the rescuers from Florida Task Force 2 embarked on a laborious new task: to knock on every door that was still standing. It was the only way to make sure they had not missed anyone still waiting to be rescued—or someone who had perished. “Fire department!” Noel Armas, a rescue squad officer, yelled as he banged on doors at the Mariner’s Boathouse & Beach Resort, on the mangled island’s southern end, which had not been hit as hard as other parts. “Anybody need assistance?” The middle part of Fort Myers Beach, a white-sand town of about 5,600 year-round residents on Estero Island, looked as if it had been bombed. Entire homes had floated off their concrete slabs. Wooden structures were reduced to splinters. On one block, the only bit of a house left standing was its white front door. The ruins cut a jarring scene against the beautiful, deep orange glow of sunset. “Look at this paradise,” Mr. Armas said, pointing to the nightfall. Then he pointed to the shattered homes. “And then you have this.”

Hurricane Ian shakes SW Florida’s faith but can’t destroy it (AP) In darkness and despair, there were flickers of light and hope, even for Jane Compton who lost her home and possessions to Hurricane Ian’s wrath. As the storm approached last week, she and her husband found sanctuary at their Baptist church, huddling with fellow parishioners through wind, rain and worry. “Good Lord, please protect us,” Compton prayed, with her husband, Del, at her side. She compared the deluge to the biblical story Noah’s Ark, saying they had no idea when the water would stop rising. When it did, there were hallelujahs. With the storm now passed and its devastation abounding, churches across hard-hit Southwest Florida are providing a steadying force in the lives of those plunged into chaos and grief. Heartache, frustration and uncertainty now swirl in sanctuaries amid sermons about perseverance and holding on to one’s faith. The Rev. Charles Cannon, pastor at St. Hilary’s Episcopal Church, sermonized about the temporariness of the community’s losses. While much was lost, he said, not all is gone. “People think they have lost everything, but you haven’t lost everything if you haven’t lost yourself and the people you love,” Cannon said.

Cholera resurfaces in Haiti as gangs hinder access to water, hospitals (Washington Post) After three years without a new case, at least one person has died of cholera in Haiti, officials here said, stoking fear of an outbreak as widespread gang control over vast swaths of the country hinders access to fuel, clean drinking water and medical care. Cholera killed about 10,000 people in the country after the 2010 earthquake. The announcement of cholera’s potential resurgence came as the Caribbean nation confronts a confluence of humanitarian and political crises that have left many people at risk of infection and threaten to imperil a response. Violent armed gangs have tightened their chokehold on several parts of the country, at times blocking the movement of critical humanitarian aid and other supplies. The G-9 federation of gangs has for several weeks blocked access to the main fuel terminal here, forcing businesses and hospitals to reduce their hours or shut down altogether. The fuel shortages have also compelled at least one major distributor of potable water to shut down.

Brazil Braces for ‘White-Knuckle Race’ Between Bolsonaro and Lula (NYT) In the early morning hours on Monday, President Jair Bolsonaro of Brazil went to bed vindicated. The night’s election results had shown, just as he had claimed, that the polls had severely underestimated the strength of his right-wing movement. Hours later, he awoke to a new challenge: How to obtain millions more votes in just four weeks? On Oct. 30, Mr. Bolsonaro will face a leftist challenger, the former president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, in a runoff election to lead Latin America’s largest nation. Now the contest—a matchup between Brazil’s two biggest political heavyweights—could swing either way and promises to prolong what has already been a bruising battle that has polarized the nation and tested the strength of its democracy. “Lula is still the favorite, but you can totally imagine this becoming a Bolsonaro victory,” said Oliver Stuenkel, a Brazilian political scientist. “If you add up all the numbers of the third-party candidates, there are sufficient votes out there.”

Truss’s Economic U-Turn (Foreign Policy) British Prime Minister Liz Truss has walked back plans to eliminate the top income tax rate imposed on the richest Britons, a central part of her economic agenda that had plunged the country into financial turmoil and forced the Bank of England to declare an emergency intervention. The sudden reversal is an embarrassing blow to the British leader during her first month in office, especially after she made unfunded tax cuts a key campaign pledge and then continued to defend her plans as public backlash mounted. This policy would have removed the 45 percent income tax rate on high-earning Britons who make more than 150,000 pounds ($170,000) per year. The British economy, which had already been in a fragile state, took a nosedive after the government unveiled its sweeping tax cut plans, sparking panic over the significant government borrowing required to fund them. As a cost of living crisis gripped the country, Truss’s move to cut wealthy Britons’ taxes fueled calls for her resignation while her overall economic agenda was publicly criticized by the International Monetary Fund.

Frustration with Ukraine war spills out on Russian state TV (AP) Russia’s retreat from a key Ukrainian city over the weekend elicited outcry from an unlikely crowd—state-run media outlets that typically cast Moscow’s war in glowing terms. A series of embarrassing military losses in recent weeks has presented a challenge for prominent hosts of Russian news and political talk shows struggling to find ways to paint Ukraine’s gains in a way that is still favorable to the Kremlin. Frustration with the battlefield setbacks has long been expressed in social media blogs run by nationalist pundits and pro-Kremlin analysts, and the volume grew after Ukraine’s counteroffensive last month around Kharkiv in the northeast. But it is now spilling out on state TV broadcasts and in the pages of government-backed newspapers. “The Russian defeat in Kharkiv (region) and Lyman, combined with the Kremlin’s failure to conduct partial mobilization effectively and fairly are fundamentally changing the Russian information space,” Washington-based Institute for the Study of War said in a report.

In Retreat on Ukrainian Fronts, Russia Shows Signs of Disarray (NYT) Russian forces in Ukraine were on the run Monday across a broad swath of the front line, as the Ukrainian military pressed its blitz offensive in the east and made gains in the south, belying President Vladimir V. Putin’s claims to have absorbed into Russia territories that his armies are steadily losing. Following the capture over the weekend of Lyman, a strategic rail hub and gateway to the eastern Donbas region, Ukrainian forces showed no sign of stopping, pushing eastward toward the city of Lysychansk, which Russia seized three months ago after bloody fighting. The military conscription Mr. Putin ordered on Sept. 21 to bolster his battered forces has set off nationwide turmoil and protest, bringing the war home to many Russians who had felt untouched by it. Many men have been drafted who were supposed to be ineligible based on factors like age or disability. On Monday, the governor of the Khabarovsk region in the Far East said that half of the men called up there, numbering in the thousands, should not have been drafted and had been sent home and that the region’s military commissar had been dismissed.

More Russians Flee Than Join Russian Army After War Call-Up (Bloomberg) Far more Russians have fled abroad than have enlisted in the military since President Vladimir Putin announced a mobilization to bolster his faltering invasion of Ukraine. Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu said more than 200,000 people have been conscripted into the army since Putin’s Sept. 21 order for a partial call-up, Russian news services reported Tuesday. That matches an exodus of more than 200,000 Russians to neighboring Kazakhstan alone over the same period reported Tuesday by the central Asian country’s interior minister. Almost 69,000 Russians crossed into Georgia by Sept. 30, according to Interior Ministry data in the Caucasus republic, where vast lines of vehicles built up at the land border with Russia following the mobilization announcement. The European Union said last week that 66,000 Russians had entered the bloc in the week to Sept. 25. Most came through Finland. In Mongolia, which this week offered to ease residency rules for people from Russia, border officials reported that more than 12,000 Russians entered the country by Oct. 2.

North Korea Fires Missile Over Japan in Major Escalation (NYT) North Korea on Tuesday fired an intermediate-range ballistic missile over Japan for the first time in five years, prompting a rare warning by the Japanese government for residents in two northern prefectures to seek shelter. The launch represented a major escalation by North Korea, which has conducted a flurry of missile tests in recent days as the United States held military drills in the region with South Korea and Japan. By launching a missile over Japan and toward the Pacific, North Korea heightened regional concerns over its growing nuclear capabilities, and raised the stakes in stalled diplomatic talks with Washington. The test was seen as a direct challenge to South Korea’s effort to strengthen its alliance with the United States and improve ties with Japan, a former colonial ruler of Korea with longstanding historical disputes with Seoul. The missile flew about 2,800 miles, the longest distance ever traveled by a North Korean missile, officials in Tokyo and Seoul said.