#like its just a normal consequence of speaking english so much more and being surrounded by it mostly

[iiusia]

my friend casually told me that when she met me (when i was 11) i had a much thicker arab accent when i spoke english and now its almost completely gone and now i haven't been able to stop thinking about it

[flowerslightning]

The OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) in FF7

This thing actually caught my eyes while reading a few theory about FF7R and the word OCD appear in their certain analysis, in IG, youtube comments and some posts in tumblr too. Dunno why but they always relate Biggs with OCD. I looked back to the scenes where Biggs appear and... Okay, i understand why they thinj Biggs has OCD or perfectionist

A lot of people, including the psych students themselves easily confused with OCD and perfectionist (I got confused by it quite often too). Now, is Biggs OCD or is he just a perfectionist? Let's take a deeper look at it

Biggs is not a famous character. So fans dont really care about him, but I do

Disclaimer : i'm not a psychologist. Im an intern and still studying. Psychiatric is not my major field but i got assigned there as an intern for quite a time and we got exposed a lot about psychology too. We didnt learn them professionally like the real psyche students, we learned (and still under training) through real life experience + a little bit from the books.

So there might be wrong interpretation here and there. Pls correct me if I'm misleading u. And pardon my english. Pls dont use any of these terms to diagnose urself. Remember, I'm a student, not a professional.

I kins of blame the social media for portraying OCD in such a nasty way, when someone with OCD is actually suffering inside.

OCD is not just about 'clean clean, must clean this place till squeaky clean' and OCD is not about being perfectionist. OCD and perfectionist are two different thing.

Perfectionist is more to a demand demeanour, eg "I want the cake to be like this. I want it to be pink. No, not that pink, it must be neon pink with slight purple. Do it again. No, i dont want that pink. Do it again. Ahhh yess, nice pink." Someone with perfectionist, after they got their result, they will immediately bcome calm and satisfied. Perfectionist is obviously different from OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder). OCPD falls under Personality Disorder and it is different from OCD. Im not going to talk about that

Credit goes to crazyheadcomics.

Look at how OCD got spoken from the media perspective. It is very much resemble to Biggs, dont u think? In reality, someone with OCD always feel stress about everything around them, and they will find it hard to complete their task.

OCD has two components - Obsessive and Compulsive

| 1. Obsessive. It is a repeating thoughts about something and often occur until it makes someone feel stress about it. Eg, u think that ur hand will get bacteria infection if u touch a chair, door, fridge or when holding someone's hand. This thought always appear in ur mind everytime u touch the door, chair, fridge or somebody's hand, but when u touch ur shoes, u never think about the bacteria (in certain cases, some patients become scare of everything they touch)

| 2. Compulsive. It is a repeating of the same actions to fulfill the 'obsession' in order to reduce the stress acted upon them. Usually the 'action' has a specific ways in which the patient believe he has to do it like this or that way or else he will fail. Eg, after touching the chair, he will immediately wash his hand 10x from left to right. He believes the hand washing wont be effective if he starts from right to left

Another sign of OCD is when someone re-checking the door lock few times. Its normal for us to re-check once/twice the door lock for confirmation, but for people with OCD, they will re-check the door lock for about 6-10 times and still not feel satisfied and later they stress out. And also the OCD people, they tend to get annoyed when something is not in particular order and they will immediately fix it eventhough they know they're wrong.

I met a funny woman at the hosp arranging our students' books according to its thickness, when I asked her why did she arranged our books like that,

She replied : "Doctor said I have CDO"

Me : "Sorry, CDO? Never heard of it"

She : "It is actually OCD but I feel so stress hearing that term so I put it in alphabetical order. CDO, much better"

We both had a good laugh. Her case was not serious though, but she was feeling miserable with her thoughts and decided to meet a psychiatrist. I would say she was still in early stage for someone with OCD, but may lead to severe if left untreated

It is really hard to satisfy and convince someone with OCD and they always feel stress about something they shouldnt care too much about. U can say OCD is a fastidious type, and they're actually more than that

If we want to relate this condition with Bigg's case., urmm. The only time where I can spot him being different than the other characters is when he's busy sweeping his front house and when he pat Cloud's head during the Sector 7 plate fall.

The cleaning stuff isnt exactly weird thing for a human to do. But it is something odd, I mean, he just finished his mission with Jessie and survived a jump from the plate, and yet he still have the energy to sweep dry leaves, AT NIGHT! He can wait till tomorrow though and should get himself a proper rest.

Wedge says Biggs has a habit of overthinking stuff

And there we see Biggs sweeping the dry leaves. It might be because he is trying to distract himself from doing his bad habit - overthinking. But urm , i think there'll be higher chance for someone to overthink when doing house chore like Biggs is doing. This is where lots of people say Biggs cleaning the house at night is bcause he has OCD or he's a perfectionist.

But I dont think thats the case. For real, he is completely normal. No sign of him acting weird in that scene. If he really does have OCD or he's a perfectionist, we'll see more of him arguing with Barret about unnecessary stuff. He cant become one of Avalanche's strongest member (not exactly strong, but hey, he's trustworthy). Also, if u notice, Biggs have one earring on his right ear. Someone with OCD will feel irritated by it bcause his ear doesnt look 'balance'. OCD people, even in mild case, they want everything about them to be balance and in good order.

After trying to understand Biggs way of thinking and style through his short screentime, I strongly believe this guy has no such thing as OCD or being a perfectionist. Biggs just cares tooooo much about his friends, he thinks 10 times ahead from the bigger picture in which it frightens him about the bad consequences that will occur to people he cherish.

He is the type that always have a back up plan in his mind. He thinks of 5 possible bad things and comes out with 10 solutions. That's the power of an overthinker like Biggs I'll tell ya

Biggs probably cleaning his front house area at night bcause the next early morning, he will need to leave his house for the bombing mission. Better take care of things the night before the big day. He can ditch the cleaning work but he wont do it, not bcause he's a perfectionist/OCD, but try to imagine this, if ur front house is full with dry leaves and rubbish, it will be unpleasant for the neighbours next to ur house to see. Living in the slum means higher chance for u to get sick if u dont take care of ur surrounding hygiene. Biggs is a kind man, and I believe he doesnt want to upset his neighbours

He probably has overthink this matter like "If i dont do this now, I probably dont have time for doing it tomorrow. Maybe I'll broke my leg from the mission and this trash will be left untouched, then there'll be high chance for the children around here to get sick. What if they get infectious disease bcause of this dry leaves? And then the parents will be worried and the Sector 7 Slum will be in chaos etc etc. Time for plan A. Let's clean this place"

Besides, remember the post where I mentioned about Mental Health First Aid? Biggs, as the side character gives the best MFA to Cloud even without knowing what Cloud had gone through. Biggs is just toooo kind with his friends, he cares too much causing him to overthinks about his friends conditions. He can notice even the slightest change in his friend's behaviour and with his own instinct, he cheers for them

Aww man, how can u not love his personality? He's the sweetest side character ever (and kinda hot too).

Soo as the conclusion for my post here, Biggs does not have OCD. He's a side character with a big heart who cares tooooooo deeply about his friends that leads him to overthink too much.

However, if the devs say Biggs really has OCD then my statement about him will be invalid. I'm sure they have put everything in a very close detail look.

Btw, I personally think Biggs kind of portrays the other small side of Cloud, the overthinking part for their romantic partner. But Biggs express his worry through words while Cloud express it through his actions, eg - like how he always keep an eye on Tifa. He never speak it directly like "I'm worry about Tifa, I must help her", he just simply be with her either she needs a help or not. While Biggs clearly says "Jessie been acting weird, I should go if she needs any - help -"

Action speaks louder than words but sometimes our eyes failed to listen.

Alright, that's it. Thanks for being with me till the end.

[itslula1991]

My Jewel (In Corrections)

Before continuing, I would like to explain why I could not continue with this modest Ahkmenrah fic. I lost my previous account and not only that, I also lost everything on my computer along with what I was writing, so I had to rewrite it and make some reforms in the process. I'm not sure if it's going to be understood because I don't speak English very well. If there is something wrong, I apologize. If someone wants to follow the story closely, I will gladly label whoever wants it again, that there is no doubt in telling me. From Argentina, the south of the world, this girl says thanks for your attention  ❤️

Postscript: I wanted to wait until today to make it special, it's my 28th birthday and as a Christmas gift for you  ❤️

Genre: Adventure, comedy, romance, fantasy

Warnings: None, for now, but much later, yes, yes, yes ;D

Summary

An ancient spell causes a millenary young lady to weaken, it is up to Larry and her friends to help her find the key to return her to normal while an unknown woman, along with three known individuals, and in order to proclaim her "how hers," she try to take over a captive jewel somewhere in Egypt. (The shock of all the chaos in the girl).

Objective? The guard and the exhibits must prevent it from falling into the wrong hands while between Ahkmenrah and the girl, a romance will slowly emerge that will bear fruit over time.

Chapter 1

Egypt 1940

The tents were part of a group of archaeologists who started a very important search dedicated solely to the tracing and possible discovery of a very valuable artifact, a mummy and hopefully also the family of the mentioned one.

The man in charge was 20 years behind the aforementioned, however over time he could never find that desire.

The midday sun rose at a rapid pace while many of them, more than a dozen Egyptians, approximately hundreds of locals worked from sunrise to sunset or excavating with the materials required to find future world heritage sites, which among them It could be the ancient Egyptian tomb. The sites traveled underground were illuminated by a row of spotlights providing light, thus allowing better lighting in random areas before possible treasures waiting to be exposed.

Without further ado, we find ourselves in one of the most famous necropolis, the Giza plateau, following in the footsteps of an archaeologist, an assistant and a local.

"Gentlemen, we are at risk, a storm is coming, my men are terrified! Let's go!”, Ahmed alarmed.

"Peter, we should give up.", said Richard, the aide walking between the dunes.

"Richard, the grave around here, I can feel it."

"Please, Peter, it's been over two months now.", Richard spoke again.

"Richard, I'm not going to stop.", Peter pawned on a whim.

"Dad, dad.", the voice of a child was heard in the distance, walking through the lateral area of the great rock mound, the great pyramid. "I'm hungry, dad, can we rest? And why is there so much wind?”

“Johan, wait in that sector. If you like to taste a bite of your chocolate, do it but I must continue with this.”

"I just want you to recharge. You haven't eaten a bite or slept, Dad.”

“Johan, listen to me. Go there, son.”, the man in question pointed to his left and his young son resigned himself to obey his father.

"Peter!", Richard yelled.

And followed by Richard, Ahmed exclaimed: "Mr. Anderson!"

"What?!"

Returning to the aforementioned, Johan barely walked a few meters from the camp, descending carefully between the golden slopes and abiding by what was established by his father, the young boy unwrapped the candy and tasting the bar of its tasty chocolate, leaned back against a wall. Slowly, small cracks began to be heard first, then important cracks appeared like that until that sector of the slope collapsed. There was never time for a reaction on his part, Johan fell according to his primary pose being a figure that coughed between rocks, dust and cobwebs in the remote darkness.

"Help! Hey! ”, Johan screamed at the top of his lungs without being heard by the amount of movement and noise from outside.

After recovering from that inhospitable moment, he rose from the ground to fend for himself inside the cave. Johan went deeper walking the first few meters until he had no choice but to lie down on the ground through the narrowness of what seemed to be an interior passage and crawl chest to the ground leaving behind the little light that entered through the gap produced by such action.

By turning on his flashlight he was able to more closely detail the end of that chamber, Johan stumbled upon what seemed to be a sacred place, he could see walls covered with hieroglyphs, two rows of 6 gigantic stone sculptures, crumbs of striking corrupted colors and two lackeys who guarded the entrance to the house where their masters remained in eternal sleep.

Inside, in the background and in front, there were three ornate sarcophagi, they were two adults, a pharaoh on the right, his wife on the left of the king and his daughter or perhaps son in the middle, the sarcophagi were made of pure gold and surrounded of splendid riches among other ostentatious objects is what the young adolescent could see once he carefully descended from the low height he traced through the tunnel.

His eyes were still mesmerized by the immense room still painted in a soft and elegant Egyptian blue, from the long wall filled with ancient inscriptions that covered the total of each corner to a recessed jewel that rested in the dark painting on the back wall, the same piece was jealously guarded by Egyptian texts around him, narrating the victories of royalty.

He wanted to speak but was so amazed that only his own breathing could be heard rumbling softly when the silence of the room welcomed him. Stunned to have discovered the enclosure that his father dreamed of finding so much. His happiness was multiplied by two.

With the lack of clarity provided by the rays of the sky god because the clouds overshadowed him for a few minutes, Peter was concerned that his perhaps firstborn was not in sight or anywhere.

He realized when he saw the hole made in the wall that was not there before and asked: “What is that? Where’s Johan?”

To which a tall, tanned man with defined Arabian features, wearing a blue tunic that reached his feet, called Ahmed, yes, the local in charge of indicating where to dig and where not, hesitated to give a concrete answer when the same Father ran to the hollowed out divider plate.

"Johan?!"

Peter traced the same path like this until completing the journey.

"Dad!", Johan shouted in order to let his father know that he was in optimal living conditions.

"Son, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine!", Johan replied with a smile.

"I'm going in!"

Johan's father entered the priceless ruins by descending a staircase made of reeds, and upon observing his son safe and sound, this anguish ceased taking step by step until he reached him.

"Yes!", that man raised his arms completing his happiness. “I looked for this grave for so many years and you, what did you do? You hit right on it.”

Johan was carried by his father in his arms and the young man gave a happy laugh.

Johan muttered: "Look at all this, Dad."

He turned his gaze to the walls, lighting up the vastness of the delicious and immortalized art carved in all four corners as his father detailed the scriptures loving each part of the discovery itself.

"It is beautiful, just beautiful.", Peter muttered.

"And that jewel.", the boy muttered, pointing his flashlight in the direction of the relic, assuming his father walked there followed by the young man.

They advanced, leaving behind the mound of sand accumulated by too many centuries and scattered by the beginning of the ancient grave until it faintly lost itself on the same ground and once being close enough, that boy tried to touch it but the scream in the distance from Ahmed prevented it.

"Mr. Anderson?!"

Taking advantage of the fact that this place had a worse quality stone construction, the tunnel was not favored as a support, falling on a slope at the time that Ahmed touched the old and venerated terrain. But just as Ahmed entered, another man, an old man also burst onto the scene taking the young Johan's shirt by the lapels and this same subject shook him repeating a series of words frightening him when his father protected him.

"Hey, what's going on with you?!", exclaimed Mr. Anderson, very indignant.

"la! la tlmsha! 'aw sawf tahadath' ashya'an fazieatan!”

"Ahmed, what is he saying? What does it mean?”, asked Mr. Anderson.

"He says no! Do not touch her! Or horrible things will happen.”, Ahmed translated the words while the man continued speaking in Arabic, circumstances that Peter did not understand but having Ahmed close, nothing was impossible to know. “Also that you must get out of here immediately. For if someone desecrates the grave and unless they leave the abode of our ancestors alone, an ancient spell would be unleashed and the end would fall on her.”

"eindaha sawf taqae alnihaya."

"The end would fall on her." Ahmed said, staring at Peter unchangingly.

Johan was stunned when slowly in the dim light of that place, he looked askance at that same valuable golden object inlaid with three gemstones in blue, whose object shone with supernatural dazzle.

Being warned by an old Egyptian prophet, one should not ignore the sayings of who knows what consequences will come about through acts of irreverent desecration.

"From now on, you should know.", that man warned with the little English he used.

Mr. Anderson debunked myths, he wasn't superstitious but…

"And then whoever dares to desecrate the tomb and the queen's most precious possession, an ancient spell would be unleashed on her majesty's imprint and the end would fall on her.", Mr. Anderson translated the hieroglyphs to perfection.

The companions in the expedition of Mr. Anderson looked at each other while the native men of that country waited for one of them to listen. Johan looked at his young father somewhat fearfully but that archaeologist did not believe much even after hearing and reading the same warning.

Mr. Anderson continued: "Bring the trucks."

"Mr. Anderson, there is no time. A storm is very close.”, Ahmed alerted.

"Then hurry up. Come on, everyone work! I want them to load everything.”

Ahmed could be the native but Mr. Anderson's orders were orders and would have to be followed, without further ado, he agreed by muttering something in Arabic and instructed his men in the same mode of communication to correspond to such a task.

The father of the young boy bent on making history, arranged for the treasures to be placed in the vehicles and due to the strong sandstorm that broke out, it was not long until he ordered a second time that the artifacts be loaded into the trucks. as fast as possible since the sunset light announced the few minutes of life that were left to that day, thus obtaining the majority of relics that they could collect from said discovery that surely in the future would be exhibited as invaluable pieces in some important museum.

"Dad, I still think we make a terrible mistake.", Johan shared a possible and traumatic concern.

His father sighed and with a soft smile said: “We don't make mistakes, we make history, son. Let's go Johan.”

The Egyptian relics were still on the way to arrive in the strong sandy blizzard. And even that weird bracelet; How beautiful in itself, however worthy of strangeness, the beautiful piece with refined garments and finishes that a feminine figure used in her time in office in Ancient Egypt, was held by an Egyptian man and placed by himself in a large box of wood, where the jewel was sheltered by a soft wool blanket.

"The end would fall on her."

Ahmed looked at the box, reaffirming that old man's prediction that the worst was coming.

* * * *

Postscript: I'm editing this story because I didn't like how it turned out on the first post. I hope you like the improved version. Excuse me girls: @sherlollydramoine @xmxisxforxmaybe @txmel  ❤️

Girls I hope you don't mind that I tagged you here. I hope you like it: @sunkissedmikky @moon-stars-soul @oldnoname @mrhoemazzello @petites-fantasies @diasimar @yousaycoke-isaycaine @sweet-motherlove​ @boyramimalek​ @riceloversblog​ @sternbergrm​ @rara-rami​ @ramimedley​ @ramisgirl512​ @mrsahkmenrah-malek​

If someone wants to label themselves here, welcome :D ❤️

[lula1991]

My Jewel

Summary

   An ancient spell causes a millenary young lady to weaken, it is up to Larry and her friends to help her find the key to return her to normal while a stranger pretends, along with three already known individuals, to take over a captive jewel somewhere in Egypt with the in order to proclaim it “yours.” (The shock of all the chaos in her).

   Objective? The guard and the exhibits must prevent it from falling into the wrong hands while between Ahkmenrah and the girl, a romance will slowly emerge that will bear fruit over time.

Genre: Adventure, comedy, romance, fantasy

Warnings: None

Chapter 1

  About 61 years ago, a group of archaeologists began a very important search dedicated only to the tracking and possible discovery of a mummy. It was the year 1940, approximately..

  The man in charge was 19 years behind the above, however over time he could never find that longing, until his young son fell with what appeared to be a sacred place but it was dark and with the low light of sunset that entered through the hole that was produced by this action, they were able to see walls covered with pure gold, hieroglyphs, stone sculptures, corrupted colors and two lackeys that guarded the entrance of said house where their masters remained in the eternal dream..

  Inside there were three ornate sarcophagi, they were two adults, a pharaoh on the right, his wife on the left of the king and his daughter or perhaps son in the middle, the coffins made of the same golden material and surrounded by riches is what he could see the young teenager with the lack of clarity offered by the rays of the god of heaven..

  The young man went inside and when he turned on his flashlight he could detail that place more closely, his eyes were mesmerized by the gigantic room from the wall full of ancient inscriptions to a built-in jewel that rested on the dark back wall, jealously guarded by Egyptian texts around, narrating the victories of royalty..

  He wanted to speak but he was so amazed that he could only hear his breathing rumbling softly when the silence of the room welcomed him..

“Son, are you alright?”

 The man, who was his father reliably, looked worried..

“Yes, I'm fine!“ he replied as he smiled.

“I'm going down!”

  Going into the ruins, he observed his son safe and sound so that this anguish ceased to take step by step until he reached him..

 “Yes!” he raised his arms, completing his happiness. “I searched for this tomb for so many years and what did you do? You fell right into it.” he raised his son in his arms.

“Look dad..”

    He turned his eyes to the walls, lighting the immensity of the delicious art engraved on the wall when his father detailed the scriptures loving the discovery..

“It's beautiful, just beautiful..”

“And that jewel..”

  He pointed in the direction of the relic assuming his father walked there followed by the young man. They advanced leaving behind the mound of sand scattered around that grave and once being close enough that boy tried to touch it but the scream of a man prevented him..

“Mr. Anderson?!”

  But another elderly man burst into the lapels of the young man's shirt and shook him, scaring him when his father protected him..

“Hey, what's going on with you?!” Mr. Anderson asked.

— la! la tlmsha! 'aw sawf tahadath 'ashya'an fazieatan..

“Ahmed, what is he saying?? What does it mean?” Mr. Anderson asked again.

“He says “ Do not! Do not touch her! Or horrible things will happen..” Ahmed answered.

  Also that they should leave there immediately since he who desecrates and unless they leave the abode of their ancestors in peace, an ancient spell would be unleashed..

  The young boy was a little scared when he slowly illuminated that same valuable golden object with a carved central winged beetle in blue stone .. Being warned by an old Egyptian prophet, we must not ignore the sayings of who knows what consequences will occur by acts of desecration..

— From now on, you should know.. 

  That man warned with the little English he used. Mr. Anderson was not superstitious but..

"And then to the one who dares to desecrate the tomb and the most precious possession of the queen, an ancient spell will be unleashed and upon it will fall its end.."  Mr. Anderson translated the hieroglyphs to perfection.

  The companions in the expedition of Mr. Anderson looked at each other while the native men of that country waited for some of them to pay attention. His son looked at his young father somewhat fearful but that archaeologist did not believe much even having heard and read the same warning..

“Bring the trucks..” ordered Mr. Anderson.

“Mr. Anderson, there is no time. A storm is very close..” said Ahmed.

“Then hurry up. Come on, work! I want them to load everything..” Mr. Anderson said.

   The father of the young boy committed to making history, arranged for the treasures to be arrived in the vehicles and due to the strong sandstorm that broke out, it was not long until he ordered for the second time that the artifacts were loaded into the trucks as quickly as possible, thus obtaining most of the objects that they could collect from said discovery that in the future they would surely be displayed as invaluable pieces in a museum..

   And the phrase was repeated again by Ahmed, a tall man with definite Arabic features..

“Her end will fall on her..” 

   Ahmed said while observing a beautiful bracelet with clothing and terminations that a female figure used in his time of office in Ancient Egypt..

Nowadays..

 After graduating as a teacher, he was able to move to get another good job, however Larry still worked the Natural History museum, after all he is a hero for his friends of wax, metal and polyurethane, so to speak..

"Everything is just as it was last time ..." Larry walked happily through his workplace.

"It hasn't changed much, Larry. Except for one detail .." Teddy said.

"I've been out of the museum for more than three years because of my studies and I'm not very aware, what is it about?" Larry's curiosity was answered by Mr. Roosevelt by pointing to a museum room. "It's new, I hadn't seen it before temporarily withdrawing from here .."

"She is a lovely young lady." Teddy commented with acceptance towards her.

"So that detail is Ahk and the Egyptian girl .." Larry smiled looking at the scene.

"It has not been skipped a day since she appeared. They are equal to two young people of this time playing to fall in love .." Sacajewea was tender to the king to spend hours hidden behind the plants of Africa spying on that someone in particular.

"I still remember the day that the boy first saw the young woman .." Teddy smiled watching the two teenagers.

**** Flash ****

A month ago..

  It was night, and there was a small party, maybe it was that Larry continued to attend night classes to get his master's degree..

  Nothing particular happened as long as King Ahkmenrah came down from that balcony leaving Jed and Octavio in charge with the music..

  Since Dr. McPhee already knew everything that happened with the table, it was no wonder to see a figure come to life, so wandering next to one of them was also not considered nonsense..

  It turns out that this above was a beautiful Egyptian, with light skin, hazel eyes, brown hair, sandals, a thin, long, tight kalasiri (dress) with two straps that covered her bust made of real white linen with golden bows to your waist He also wore a kind of short coat covering the shoulders, a two-piece cylindrical snake bracelet adorning his left arm, a small crown with a cobra calf, a delicate usej in the form of winged beetle in ranges of blue, turquoise and green with three ankh charms completing the outfit of the young..

  Ahkmenrah's face said it all, it seemed that everything was happening in slow motion in his mind..

"Wow .." Ahkmenrah whispered as if she were seeing a wonder of the ancient world. "For Ra and all the gods .." Ahk's face lit up when he was dazzled by the bubbling girl with light brown hair. It was as if he were in a dream.

  When he saw her speak willingly with the Museum Director on one of the stairs, he was fascinated. No matter what she was doing, he smiled and his eyes filled with love and wonder..

  The boy was indeed enamored, and although not every woman managed to shake his heart as the Sheikh of a harem in the past, she flecked it instantly or as the cliché is said vulgarly, love at first sight..

"I had not seen a more impressive museum than this one, it is amazing." she was so happy.

"I am very happy that she feels comfortable. I will leave her with the figures of the establishment so that she knows the place. Miss .." Dr. McPhee said goodbye with respect and she made a slight inclination allowing her to retire.

  Ahkmenrah didn't miss a single movement of the pretty girl, she was standing by the desk watching her with a half-twisted smile and her gaze was as if billions of stars were lit inside her eyes..

— ‘Ah freak out..  Le freak, c’est chic ..  Freak out ..  Ah freak out ..  Le freak, c’est chic ..  Freak out ..  Ah freak out ..  Le freak, c’est chic ..  Freak out ..  Le freak out, c’est chic ..  Freak out .. ‘

  Glamorously down the stairs like an Egyptian goddess, the girl moved exploding sensuality and with a comic touch when everything happened in slow motion to the rhythm of the background music. She ran her hair back with one hand, blinked flirtatiously looking around while some exhibits threw roses at her, worshiping her presence and she greeted with a very overwhelmed and grateful smile as she slid down the hall, looking like a model from 1999 BC..

  And to all this Ahk thought that she was addressing him with that hip wig, enlarged her smile but it was not so. He continued long and he continued absorbed in his thoughts without taking his eyes off each line of his toned and fine figure, wandering in them when Mr. Roosevelt's voice made him get out of that trance..

"I don't want you to be the same as me." Teddy spoke solemnly.

"What do you mean?" Ahkmenrah was half fool trying to spin his question well.

"In the sense that I have spent more than 50 years observing and not daring to say a word to my dear Sacajewea until Larry's arrival prompted me to do so. Do not hesitate or let her escape, Your Majesty." Teddy advised wisely while the boy sighed looking at the Egyptian girl.

  The young woman with an unknown name, detailed every corner and never noticed that those green eyes did not lose sight of her. It seems that Mr. Roosevelt's words encouraged the king to arm himself with courage, inflate his chest, accommodate his deshret (crown) and approach him to relate, establish a bond, perhaps..

"This is so beautiful .." she whispered fascinated looking at the divine building and how the party continued with its magic.

"Hello .." he said finally with real elegance behind her.

  She turned on her axis delicately as she was distracted watching the constellations forming mirror balls illuminating the room with a soft blue..

"Hello ..." and the pretty girl received him with a kind smile once they were facing each other ..

"What is your name?" Ahkmenrah asked.

"I'm Larempteh .." she introduced herself and Ahkmenrah raised an eyebrow detailing her peculiar appearance at a considerable distance, she hardly possessed makeup. Just a little soft brown shadow that accentuated her sweet eyes and her thick eyelashes, kohl for a discreet black and carmine lipstick, privileged to possess the fleshest. Beautifull. "High Blue Sapphire of the Nile, fourth queen of the fifth great king, ruler of the reign of my pharaohs. It is a pleasure .."

   Larempteh was not presumed, only that the way of presenting himself in the ancient world was that way when you were belonging to the descendants of Upper Egypt. His voice was a caress with words for him. The girl was cordial, warm and very respectful, as well as sweet and having that mixture between shy and intellectual. It illuminated the whole place only with its presence ..

"What a beautiful name." It was hypnotic and Ahk's eyes could not detach from the young woman for any reason. "Excuse me, I don't look at the girls like that .."

"Don't worry, that's fine. For that you have sight, you appreciate what you see .." Larempteh apologized by releasing a pleasant laugh.

"Besides, your English is perfect, where did you learn?" Ahkmenrah asked intrigued.

"I went to the University of Cambridge." Larempteh reported and Ahkmenrah was stunned with a smile.

"Were you in Cambridge?" Ahkmenrah asked.

"On display .." Larempteh spoke to continue his dialogue.

— The Department of Egyptology? — and both agreed in prayer with surprise.

"Yes, that's right! What a coincidence!" Ahkmenrah was surprised.

"Have you been there too? Wow, that's great." Larempteh said at last.

"Is it your first night at the museum?" Ahkmenrah asked.

"No, I came here in 1958 from the Giza expedition." Larempteh reported without further ado.

"How come I have never seen you before?" Ahkmenrah was intrigued.

"Well, they had me away in the warehouse until I created my showroom right in front of your showroom and I've been in my sarcophagus for 61 years, so I went out tonight. I've had so few visitors interested in the ancient world that everything this time I have been around my exhibition and I never dared to abandon it, custom, melancholy maybe .. It is difficult to get off Cambridge once you belong 18 years. " Larempteh said.

"Indeed. It feels weird." Ahkmenrah said.

"It would also be because of the fame of little docile nature that they instilled in us and I didn't want to be feared by the other exhibits." Larempteh said.

"I understand you." Ahkmenrah said softly.

"I must add that it may be due to destiny, I would say." Larempteh said beautifully.

"And why were we in different temples?" Ahkmenrah inquired funny.

"Or maybe the gods had prepared our meeting for a suitable moment and I think it worked today .." Larempteh shrugged a shoulder nicely.

"It's wonderful and you believe in destiny, that's fabulous." Ahkmenrah said and she gave him a smile.

"And, you're from around here I guess or .." Larempteh spoke.

"I belonged. I am a limited time conservation." Ahkmenrah explained and she was stunned.

"Limited time conservation?" Larempteh asked.

"Yes, I am part of the treasures of the British museum; but it is a long story that I will tell you." Ahkmenrah responded by giving her a beautiful smile.

"Okey .." Larempteh said quietly.

"Dynasty XX? I guess .." Ahkmenrah watched her carefully.

"Yes, how did you know?" Larempteh laughed with sophistication. She was charmingly curious to put a strand of hair behind her right ear, revealing one of her shiny rings with a triangle design and an elegant nail varnish in burgundy.

"On the above, is that you have a little seen face, my guess is that by chance you are familiar with Nefertari Meryetmut or maybe it is because she has reincarnated in you and it is impossible for you to go unnoticed." Ahkmenrah said.

  Dazzled, he winked giving her a warm smile by indirectly telling him how extremely beautiful it was. Perhaps the young man hinted that the girl would be descended from the most important queen that Egypt had, making her an extremely attractive goddess for her taste and reach..

"No .." Larempteh kept thinking. "I don't think it's that way. Well, one knows who descends to reincarnate in a living god on Earth, but one of my parents may have been the continuation to the offspring of Nefertari. Some grandson of the many children who she had .. " she continued.

"The hundreds of kings who claimed your love should tell you." Ahkmenrah supposed.

 And as? If she radiated sweetness and owner of an exquisite exotic image; how it would not be possible that the kings would not discuss the hand of that venerable woman ..

"No, it was my older sister who received all those courtships." Larempteh let out a natural laugh.

"Sister .." Ahkmenrah was not interested, rather he was unsuspecting. Shocked by the fact that her beauty is not praised.

"Yes. You see, my dad wanted two rulers, one who was a strong pharaoh and who knows how to command the kingdom and another who was a champion in the battles, especially in Kadesh. But he had my sister and me. Yes, he had more secondary children but she and I were of pure lineage with direct access to lead a nation. " Larempteh commented raising his brow with a smile naturalizing his story.

"And why her and not you, how is it possible?" Ahkmenrah used a tone of Real disbelief.

"It was very beautiful .." Larempteh simply shrugged one shoulder in a beautiful way continuing the thread of praise. "Although she was somewhat crazy .." she added without further ado.

"I am sure it does not overcome the honey in your voice or your delicate presence." Ahkmenrah said gallantly.

  The young woman did not know where to look, and how not, Ahk's electric eyes dared not detach from her youthful features, she was intimidated by those lovely courtships and tilted her face a little to the side hiding her faint blush while maintaining a thin smile while he tilted his head and then watched him ..

"And what's your name?" Larempteh asked.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king, ruler of my parents' lands and the pleasure is all mine." Ahkmenrah bowed bowing before her presence, showing him cordiality when he kissed her hand, she could not believe that this kind of young man with 18 years of age, a classical conservation of 4000 years, was real. How the man who dreamed all his life. "Sorry for my daring but I couldn't stop watching you since I saw you. You are more beautiful than the pyramids in Cairo." Ahk flattered her and the girl felt another strong blush seize her face.

"How divine." Larempteh was stunned by all the praise she got from him in a delicate tone with a slightly strange smile.

"I spent 54 years wrapped in bandages and dirty linen, locked in a sarcophagus and after waking up 61 consecutive nights to meet you, that is divine. You are a beautiful, beautiful creature." Ahkmen after that compliment, smiled sideways showing his immaculate teeth, without showing lasciviousness or perversion, it was like a seductive tactic in him.

"Thank you?" Larempteh laughed with elegant confusion.

"The pharaohs tend to have an aggressive and unkind image ..." Ahkmenrah commented recovering her position of getting straight.

"I'll be careful then .." Larempteh's whisper was a little less than what is called suggestive, maybe being mysteriously insinuating was a sound seduction tactic to start the game of romance. "Although if someone comes between you and my beauty, probably the king of 4000 years ago, maybe make an exception. But as long as none of that happens.." Ahkmenrah said.

"I knew how the pharaohs were in our time. Nothing tolerant, only in tiny exceptions .." Larempteh said.

"I'm kind, don't believe it in me unless .." Ahkmenrah leaned back, bringing the female hand to his lips and then straightening and winking again. 

— Laaa, no!" Do not touch that! Those are not headphones! It's a defibrillator!

Tilly's voice was heard as she ran around Laaa in the lobby.

  That stir caused Rexy to get scared and make sounds, scaring the crowd minimally, causing Larempteh to avoid how he could alpacas, llamas, terracotta soldier and Vikings fleeing in his direction. There was a moment that he lost his balance by their action, it was there that he fell into Ahk's arms that held her tightly by reflex, that caused her to sink her face into the hollow of the king's precious and soft neck, forming an electricity This was done in the face of the clash of skin against skin and at that moment a spark ignited between them when they looked at each other ..

"What divine eyes you have .." Ahkmenrah praised their color by giving him a soft grin on her lips and she watched him behind her eyelashes smiling tenderly, losing himself in his. **** End of Flash ****

[willofhounds]

Bound to you ch1

A/N this is one of my crazy ideas. Please note this is the Bourne novels not the movies. It is also combined with the soulmate prompt from Tumblr. Will be Gellert/Newt dont like dont read.

Thank you for to @silverynight and @reina1505 for helping me with this fic. It is going to be a fun one to do.

Also the way POV's are written will change back and forth depending on the personality that is in control. I also have changed the date of when the CIA was founded to the earlier 1900s instead of 1947.

Newt's POV

His hands shook at the sight in front of him. The air cracked with his angry magical energy. Burning flesh scent filled the air. Its acidic scent burned his throat. Yet he did not move away or tear his eyes from the sight.

Burned corpses surrounded the barely of age wizard. Newt had only been in the war effort for three months. The entire time he had worked with and loved the dragons. Unlike the humans they didn't judge him.

The eldest dragon took to him as if he was her own. She didnt mind his presence or that he was curious about their behaviors. Every day he would spend his time with the dragons.

The first time his fellow soldiers found them in the pen they about had a heart attack. It wasn't until they saw how at ease the dragons were with him. They wanted him to teach them how to handle the dragons.

Two months it took but each of squad could handle a dragon each. When it came to the female elder only Newt was allowed near her. She trusted him in a way that she trusted no others.

Newt had only left camp for a few hours on a scouting mission. When he returned Ministry wizards were trying to scavenge scales from the dead bodies of his dragons. His fellow dragoniers were being held at wand point. Counting Newt there were only five of them and they were viciously outnumbered by the Ministry.

There wasn't even half a second for him to consider the consequences of his actions. He began a barrage of heavy explosive spells. They were sent with deadly accuracy.

Only one Ministry official was able to get a shield up in time. With the shield he was still sent back several feet. The others were thrown from across the camp unmoving as they landed.

Despite Newt never finishing his formal schooling he could duel with the best. Most people remember him as the strange man with the creatures. Only Professor Dumbledore knew that he had the innate talent for dueling. Under his guidance it was flourished.

In his fourth year Newt mastered the Patronus charm. It's corporeal form was that of a wolf. The surprise on Dumbledore's face would have been hilarious if anyone else had seen it. For Newt it was refreshing and made the boy smile. A rare thing seen by any other than his creatures.

Dueling practice had become tea time afterwards. Newt slowly became more comfortable with the older man.

It was on accident one day that during a duel that a cutting curse hit his robe over his right wrist. This revealed his soulmate mark. Newt wasn't ashamed of his mark; more confused by it. He recognized it from the the book Tales if Beatle and Bard.

At the time his parents had been thrilled. The Scammander family was neutral to dark as a whole. Theseus was on the lighter side of neutral by choice. Newt had been on the darker side of if. Like his parents he didn't care about whether it was dark or light. They taught him that it was all intention.

Dumbledore had gone paler than the ghosts. Immediately he warned Newt to never let anyone see it. That his soulmate was a dangerous man.

Newt took the advice as that, advice. He wasn't one of his classmates who went looking for his soulmate. All he wanted was to look after creatures.

When his parents died in his fourth year Dumbledore had been there for him. A friend where the rest of the world looked down upon him. Well him and Leta.

Leta Lestrange a Slytherin in his year was the only friend his age. She was unsure about him at first. Given that he felt the same about anyone he met then they made a good match to be friends. Outcasts no matter where they went.

Then he had been expelled because he stuck up for her. His only friend his age. It was only later did he find out that she didnt do the same for him. Not that it would have changed anything.

So with a year left to his schooling he was sent home. He was given a suitcase with an undetectable extension charm on it. Dumbledore gave it to him so that he could help creatures. Before he left he took the bowtruckles hiding in the Forbidden Forest with him. They had been tormented by students for long enough.

That's how he ended up on the war front. If he had not been expelled he would not have been eligible to join the army. Following Theseus's lead against his older brother's wishes he had joined. Newt never expected for this to happen.

His attention was brought back to the duel as a sickly yellow curse came at him. A quick wordless shield and it was blocked. Much like himself this man had no qualms about using dark spells.

The Ministry officials that had been blown off their feet were slowly getting up. They had wary looks in their eyes. It seemed they didn't want to try to their luck again.

They went to and from each using powerful spells. Newt could feel his magical reserves deplenishing. If this kept up he would be beaten.

As if sensing his thoughts the man man blocked another curse but did not return in kind. Both stood staring at each other.

The dark haired man began in a low rumble that echoed around them, "I did not know what was going to be done here today. I was only told of some new recruits for an operation I am putting together. It was one of wo things I came for today. The other was to find a Newton Fido Artemis Scammander. If I had known then I would have stopped them."

Newt didn't lower his wand but he was listening. There wasn't an ounce of deception in the other's voice. As far as he could tell the man was telling the truth.

Newt snapped back watching the man's wand for any indication of an attack, "I'm Newt Scammander. What do you want?"

The man replied with an honest look of regret, "I am Lieutenant Colonel David Abboyt from MACUSA's CIA branch. Two months ago one of my platoons went missing. An English platoon with Second Lieutenant Theseus Scammander went to rescue them two weeks ago. Information received suggests that they were captured and killed along with the original platoon. You have my sincerest condolences Corporal Scamander."

It was as if winter had set in three months early. Snow could have been falling with how cold he became.

Thee was dead? The only family he had left in the world was gone? His world was turned on itself. Without Theseus he was all alone in the world.

He was without kith or kin any longer. What was he supposed to do now?

For the first time in his life he felt truly lost. This wasn't even something he felt when he was expelled. Theseus had been there for him and helped. Now even he was gone.

The feeling of loss was quickly replaced by another feeling he was unfamiliar with; rage. If his anger had been a flame before it was a wildfire now. Never before had he felt the need to kill someone. Normally a gentle soul he felt no qualms about finding and killing those who killed his brother.

The members of his platoon began to move away. They wanted no part of the conversation that would ensue. Newt trusted them to take care of the bodies. Just like him they were attached to their dragons. A connection in them had died that night.

Then the word he had overlooked for his name hit him. He questioned, "What operation?"

Abbott's blue eyes sparked with interest. He replied, "You have the magical skill for it but would you be willing to learn to fight like muggle. Not just shooting a gun but hand to hand."

He paused eyeing Newt up and down. The younger man refused to say anything. He would not look weak. Not when he stood around the bodies of his precious dragons.

Abbott continued, "The operation will be known as Medusa. It is made up of the worst kinds of criminals. It will be men from all countries and origins. Training will be given. There would be a few such as yourself who aren't but not many. Remember they wont be your friends. If they get the chance they will kill you. This is not an official operation however. I am in control of it but if you speak to anyone outside of the group I'll deny it. If you get captured there will be no rescue. From the moment you are assigned a team you are apart of it. There will be no going back until the war is over."

There was no hesitation or requiring time to think about it, "If it means going after those that killed my brother then so be it."

Even if he had to become a monster.

[odbele]

Translation from Swedish to English

“The stratigraphic signals were already there; the isotopes, plastic, techno physics, the cars, the broken bullets from all too many wars. The signals are a contemporary biproduct of a time when human beings placed themselves above the earth and took its stability for granted.” These are the words found on the last page of idea and environmental historian Sverker Sörlin resently published book “Antropocen – en essä om människans tidsålder ” (Antropocene – an essay on the age of human kind)

And today we will be discussing the concept of Anthropocene, usually described as the new geological age, defined by the footprints left on earth by man.

The guests are idea and environmental historian and author Sverker Sörlin, Helena Granstrøm another author with background in physics and mathematics, and Gøran Greider author. Welcome, my name is Peter Sandberg.

Peter Sandberg: So, this concept of Anthropocene – the age of mankind, was introduced already in the early 80ths, though the breakthrough in popularity first occurred at the edge of the 21th century, as a replacement of Holocene – the postglacial age heralded by the end of our last ice age 11000 years ago. Sverker, Anthropocene “the age of mankind”, why has this term reached a public interest, now, in our age/time?

Sverker Sörlin: Well, Anthropocene replaces Holocene and that is still an ongoing discussion if we are really going to take this step and officially establish a new era. It is a relevant question for geologists and in particular stratigraphicologists, a sub-group of geologists, and for up to them to decide, though the discussion today is evolving. And I think it is evolving and reaching out to different fields of professions because the concept sums up the human experiences throughout the last decades, as well as our last century. That humans have, negatively speaking, effected the climate and made footprints. Suddenly it is as if this footprint has been given a word, a concept. While doing so you catch something, and this something has spread wildly. The word brings life to images and thoughts considering this, though it also brings up the controversy and posing questions like “Who is actually responsible for this coherent footprint? Are we all contributors, and if so, have we contributed equally?” How are we supposed to view this? Suddenly you enter a field of incalculable questions that evolves from this concept. Normally, the enclosed debates within the field of geology is not a relevant topic for the public, as artists and other scientists and politicians and such, but here, it is not the case. One could also claim that there is some political touch to “Anthropocene”, which I think is important in this situation.

Gøran: Yes.

Peter Sandberg: Well, Helena, Gøran, what do you think? Anthopocene a new geological era defined by our footprints. Do we need a word, a concept, like this? Helena Granstrøm: Yes, considering the fact that this concept gestalts the irreversible traces we leave on this planet we need it, though I have got several issues with the concept, partly because of what you just pointed out, Sverker. Your book is altered on the premise that you identify with this humanity, even though you may not be amongst those who has contributed to the largest footprints. Still, you feel like you are a part of this humanity, thus you take responsibility for these actions. You personally don’t behold the power of the industrial civilization, but you identify with this power. I am imagining a situation where Latin American natives are evacuating their village to make room for a new dam, and that they might feel differently reading your words. To suggest that this is the age of humanity… (Pauses) Rather than the term being clearly political, it tends to apolitize what we are dealing with here. It is a specific human culture that produces this type of footprints, and so to suggest that it is “humanity” is to imply that it is “simply natural”, in which I strongly disagree.

Gøran: Mm.

Peter Sandberg: Hmm, well Gøran, it seems like you have been waiting for such a term to come along?

Gøran: Well, I have dealt with it by writing MOTSKILLIG years, actually. I think we possess a general need for words and terms to identify timeframes. I think it would be better if the geologists would loosen up on their iron fist regarding this discussion and for it to instead be viewed in a different light. Even if, still, it is important to remember that this is currently a term being used by academics and some artists. There has not been a viral thing or such, though I agree with you Helena; I often think in such terms myself, when we have a look at “Antropocene – the age of the human kind”, of course it “DØLJER” different systems, different mindsets, different values, different – Europe for instance, look at what we have done to the rest of the world, the debate is easily DØJED as a term, but it does not stop me from growing a fond of this concept, because I believe we need some kind of grandiose framing of time that evolves into the discussions we are having now. So, summing up, I believe it causes more good than harm.

Peter Sandberg: Well, I think the term, Anthropocene, that is, the obvious geological impact we have had on earth, but there is also some kind of existential question imbedded in this. That is to speak, our perspective on the world, human being, our culture and politics. It extremely wide and a bit like a duality as well.

 Sverker Sörlin: What Helena brings to the table here is a very central part of the discussion surrounding “Antropocene”. And I have written several articles about this subject, in particular this, collectivization by force, so to speak, of all human kind, like canalizing it into this “antropos”, this figure producing footprints. I have found these kind of discussions constructive because they have shown us to spot the differences. But even those who are losing their minds right now because other parts of humanity are taking too much space and are overexploiting, resulting in the consequences we face in Antarctica or other parts of the world, is to some extent already imprinted in the same discussion. After all they are a part of the same human kind. One cannot say that the collective mind of man does not exist. It does indeed exist. And this I tell you: one of the useful aspects the term catalyzes is a forced discussion about what “humanity” really is, how we define it and what is embedded in that term. Who is a part of it and, well, everyone is a part of it given a premise, but like how and where you belong, in which I think there have been great variations in the FURFLUTNA , to which I hope we take a distance. One of the chapters I have chosen here is “Who does what to whom”. There are no innocent actions that has made our planet into this all absorbing all swallowing thing, but that time is over the earth cannot sustain it all, and then the critical question of who is responsible arises.  

 Peter Sandberg: But it is hard to accuse the whole world or pinpoint a few that could be held accountable in overexploiting the recourses, I mean, we are clearly guilty in several different ways. Anthropocene is really all about “man” then, generally speaking? Gøran: Yes, well, I guess speaking of the term, what has happened is that it is mirroring the states you are referring to, the planetarian. Even those of the 4th world that are driven away now knows that there is a world we should relate to in some way or another. Even the worst climatedeniers has got some clue that we have got a planet though they are refusing to believe scientifical reports etc. But there is something here that is about a planetarian mindset -

8:42 A global mindset? Gøran: Yes, I suppose you could call it that, well, you write so lovely about it in you book, pictures of the earth arising, the Apollo voyages, when we for the first time in history experience a picture of our planet from outer space, like “That’s us, right there, on that tiny spot”. Like, we are all here, even if we are divided into different social classes or colonial submitted, and I think it is an important issue considering the term “Anthropocene”, because the global is brought to conscious.  

 Helena Granstrøm: Humanity existed a long time before this deep, destructive culture was born, and this is what I think tends and disappears in this term. Also, I think it is partly symptomatically given: if you look at it as some sort of replacement for environmental terms, it’s like destroying. The environment, the way you write about it, is this abstract something “out there”, being polluted by humans. To me, this is probably one of the most interesting aspects about this term, right, the geological perspective is very large, it speaks about billions of years, it is not concerned about destroying but rather transformation. And to me, this comes across as preposterous, like the way we exterminate species, we pollute the oceans, we are drill the mountains to pieces, though we do not call it destroying, we call it transformation. If it was the products of mankind was leveled with the ground, we would all agree that its about terminating. You bring up the term “infra politics”, right, so not the everyday politics found in papers and regular news, but some kind of underlying structure supporting the contemporary political debate, and this is, I guess, is where we find the central “infra political” question regarding the term “Anthropocene”. Like, it’s a highlighting human activity and a systematical disparagement of everything that is not a direct consequence of human actions.  

Peter Sandberg: So, infra politics. Infra descends from sound, no, like the sound you are unable to hear though you feel it in your bones, like some underlying vibrations beneath the politics, ideologies, structural systems ect. Like when you feel the urge to act but maybe cannot articulate it properly. Have I got it right?

 Yes, one could argue you do, haha, I invented that term myself, actually. It’s purposing a combo of compability and incompatibility, - like politics for instance, demands articulation, on the contrary, infra politics functions on several different levels at the same time. This is dealing with us as sensible creatures in a more sensible way than we can address. And from there on the vibrations tends in various directions. Some might be offended by the violence of nature in this, like Helena mentioned, but others have got a different version of infra politics and therefore addresses this indifferently - more spontaneously inclined a highlight of the products manufactured by human kind and from there on inclining towards transformation rather than termination. And I think it is important to accept/recognize/realize this as a perspective of value. To be able to see that. To try to increase linguistic availability to be able to look at it from counter holds, which I find political.

 Helena Granstrøm: There are some central cultural myths concerning Anthropocene, suggesting that the term is referring to the tale of human intrinsic urge for destruction. Like “it’s natural to exploit the surroundings” that is one of the cultural explanations, that I party find implied here. The second is all about “man being created in Gods image”, that there exists a virtue in administrating, which could also maintain the act of destroying, though in a sense, to continue the work on this “creation” and doing so by placing ourselves above it. And this you write on as well. What do you think, Gøran? So infra politics, unspoken politics sort of,

Yeah, well, I must admit I have grown quite a fond of this term. When I am alone I usually occupy myself with politics, like everyday politics. What I find utterly annoying is that the so critical dissidence related questions never are found to be present. Whereas in opposition this term really hits something in people. It moves them. I have even overheard directors of paper industry on vacation chatting “We need to reduce the consumption level in society” and then they go back to work, causing the straight opposite effect. There is something happening inside every human being, we feel something, something global. And this is also some of what is implied in the term (read: Anthropocene), opposed to what is presented in our everyday politics.

Helena: Well, isn’t it all because of narrowmindedness, causing us to continue believing in this “tale of progress”? Because if you don’t believe in it you cannot – then you cannot do shit.

There are several environmental activists, parts of the environmental movement, that has joined the eco-modernistic idea that postulates that they are equally narrow minded as everyone else considering FRaAMSTEGSBERETTELSEN . like “more technology is a necessity, we need new and more and better technology” like that kind of ecomodernism -  and then you might be trapped in a specific infra political understanding.

 Peter: Though, could someone spot something regarding our position? Sverker, in your book you write… Ok, so, as late as in 1930 Nobel prize winner in physics Robert Millican proclaimed that nothing can affect something as huge as our planet. So, you wright about this kind of longing for trust. It is like a scaling has disappeared.

 Svaerker: Yes, precisely, like you mention Helena, this administrational thought has increased in popularity, especially in eco modernistic groups that “we should protect and sustain this planet” can come across as an attractive alternative considering what sort of actions we are capable of going through with today minimizing the impact we have on this planet. “We can protect everything”. And I think this is an important argue, and of course you cannot deny the that there is something latent in this, we have to take responsibility for each other, but to take on the responsibility of everything, like, we are responsible for the growth, we are responsible for the sea level rising, we are responsible for - . Heaven on earth. It has to stop somewhere. There is a limit of what we can take here, I guess. And I also believe that this term, Anthropocene, that we approach this in a very confronting way, like we look in the mirror and what we see is this reflection of what we are or what we are pretending to be. A totalitarian creature that can do everything. Here, my infra political impulse is to stand up and actively say “Hell no, I don’t want to be a part of this, I want to stay small, I don’t want to be framed into these large concepts”

Gøran: I think this is a part of the phase-wise Anthropocene, that wherever we go throughout our lives we only encounter the technosphere. Like, going hiking you are basically moving inside a green industrial hall, you can witness the mechanics, and then you continue into thick forests, constructed on site by man. It is something artificial. You hardly find authenticity any more. We only encounter ourselves. That’s why you feel satisfied by the thought of “the wild nature” is reclaiming its territory.  Because it is something moving outside the technosphere.

   Helena:  Otherwise you move though a genuine forest that is in fact something in its own, something different, though you know that it may disappear by tomorrow. And it is something about the reliability in this big structure. Like "this is the mountain, it has always been here and it's going to stay here until infinity, this tree has been standing here since as long one can remember", though there is no such thing as consistency anymore related to the great outer structures. An interesting aspect you deal with in your book is that the world has shrieked, and that it is not only concerning high speed, efficient communication, it is concerning the reliable sphere, the sphere we hold our trust in. It is no longer trust in these great structures, it is not even the changing seasons,  it is almost nowhere to be found, it is merely reduced into what you can grasp with your hand and the few people you hold dearly in life.

 Sverker: There is an amazing poem written by Gøran Sommerby where he expresses envy for the romantical poets, like Kristel and so on, because whenever they were upset with the status of contemporary politics, they would have a walk in the wild to clear their minds. An untouched room where time stood still. This room has vanished. There no exits this type of room to rest. But this one could also interpret as a call to reevaluate our position.

 Peter: Though it is related to language as well, no? We read about this all the time, the technical and research terminology ect. I don’t know the position of nature poetics today, but it's like this fervent description of our planet and of ourselves and our position in universe. There might be a longing. You claim that there exits eco poetry.  

 Sverker: Yes, well in some ways you could call it that, or some kind of climate related poetry, recognized by its despair over the lack of space to recover/rest/recharge. Gøran: 18: 50 til Jag tycker meg senvis på forsjukning her? A few decades ago, we witnessed an explosive growth in the eco modernistic movement. It launched the mindset that could combine a broad society development with increased living standards and a cautious relation to the eco systems. The old version of "nature preservation" was considered extremely unpopular,  it was conservative and symbolic. With this Anthropocene discussion, the defense of "nature" has reappeared. Like the feeling that there is no rest, that we are savages obsessed with administrating and mending what is in reality a scale we cannot comprehend with. And then there arises a new type of longing back to - or at least – to something that is greater than us.

 Helena: Do you think that this upcoming insight at all can be expressed in political actions? I think it is interesting to have a look at how we execute these ideas and mindsets as political actions with our cultural mechanisms kept in mind. And the answer to this question is that we are extremely technooptimistic.

 Sverker: Yes, not only that, but a sort of speciesism/ species egocentric as well when you have a look at what our politicians do. Even all the climate party throughout Europe are eco modernists in some way, like, none of them claim we have to go back to a modest lifestyle, though all eco modernists, or not all, and in this sense I guess...When speaking about the "age of the human kind" an image instantly appears in your mind, an image of how selfish we are as a species. It's actually a point to it.

 Peter: You also describe various versions of what the "human" is, and you mention the "techosphere" the summation of all human activity, our buildings, roads, cables, construction sites ect. And then there is information that the techofossile diversity is exceeding the diversity of the earth and the summation of all the fossiles from earths development throughout time. It is absolutely overwhelming.

Gøran: Yes exactly, the total amount of impact we have had on earth that currently is manifested on a massive industrial scale. It is flourishing – take a random freighter, whether it is from China or another country,  it is cucked to the top of all this tiny stuff, and every day there are millions of new species being born sort of, in these commercial temples. And politically speaking there is an absurd diversity, in the future, one imagines the archeologists 10 000 years from now researching material from our time and our civilization, and that they will see our actions today as an enormous footprint. Like, our footprint as a species compared to the footprint of all of the billions other species that exists, and then one can say, well, in a short manner of time, the human kind surely went overrepresented, hehe.

 Peter: Now that is a creepy thought, hehe.

 Helena:  You also write that the fair amount of these products and inclusive the lifestock and other animals 20:15:   Is 100 000 times greater than the human, like total mass of the human kind.

 Sverker: Though is there not some sort of paradox to this? “The age of the human kind”, and at the same time biotechnics, robotics and artificial intelligence ect. It is almost like the age of the human kind/ humanity should be recognized as the time when the human is climbing down from its high horse and be replaced by... Like, we can replace almost all our organs, we can imagine that there will be a huge infratechnological leap that will give us automatical, driverless cars. There is a paradox that the age of the human kind culminates into a point of time when the human loses its unique position/role.

 Helena: To voluntarily give it up? Or.. Sverker: Yes, I suppose you could say so.

Peter: This is “Filosofiska rummet” were we are trying to address the resent term “Anthropocene – the age of the human kind/humanity”, and together with us today is ideahistorian Sverker Sørlin and auteurs Helena Granstrøm and Gøran Greider. So, it is about time as well, at high speed. Like, our glaciers are melting, deforestation, extinction of species and the geography is torn. Sverker, you write ”the understanding/vision of time that the west has lived under has been altered on the separation between the time of nature and the time of culture”. Time of culture has been fast the time of nature slow. Though now it it’s the strict opposite – the culture in falling behind the time of nature. It is hard to parry.

 Gøran: I think this is one of the fundamental shifts. Actually, I would like to say that this book in many ways is concerning a new perspective of the world that is arising. And when new perspectives on the world and versions of reality is arising, terms of movement, like time for intense…like nature is out there, stable and simply existing, and then suddenly stuff happens and it is not predictable anymore, that it is moving too fast. What we are facing now is an acceleration taking place all over the world at the same time, that is even spreading to what we used to call nature. Like, nature is becoming and almost nostalgic term even. And we still haven’t figured out yet how to control this new, high speed, because we have inflicted upon something that is uncontrollable. It is a bit ironic, no, speaking of control? Because we cannot control it, what man has kicked off is simply too fast. This is where we are right now. That is the mindset that is now arising, so new generations are going to perceive time in another way. And this defiantly affects the professional reflectors of time – the ideahistorians – are philosophizing about time, especially the recent decades.

 Peter: Yeah, I mean, it is almost as if culture and nature is merging, are we able to separate the two, and will we be in the future?

 You are asking too grand questions, hehe, though in some ways the answer would neither be yes or no, but the way one relates to time will change, of course.

 Peter: Yes, well, in your book you also discuss “modernism”. The science, the enlightenment, the nature continuingly providing us with recourses, materials ect. This is also some of what is changing, right? And also these processes in a political view. The already made decisions has been based on this logic, though it is no longer valid. Right, so the politics are also falling behind.

 Yeah, though we are also… I think you are quoting a Adorno, an old German philosopher, though he formulates it “over the perfect enlightened world are rays of catastrophe”. Modernity and the enlightenment, well it has been a tale of progress, though we spot in the horizon the total destruction of the biosphere. And this does something to the mindset of modernity. Right, so you wright that here lies loads of nostalgia in the term nature, and in terms like “the time of coal” and such, hehe. Though maybe not everyone sees this destruction, like why should we keep this old wall, is it really efficient or…speaking about eco systems I feel like, in the aftermath of the term “Anthropocene” there is a lot of…like the scientists are predicting that 50% or 2/3 of all species will be extinct by a hundred years, caused by the combination of climate change and human validation of territory/ radical disturbance of livelihoods. And the answer to this is to construct some kind of modern “Noahs Ark”. And then the question is “Well, what kind of species should we spare, which do we choose”. In some ways this is resolving our old thinking patterns, but in another sense they are amplified, even taken into extremes. That we with a certain obviousness take on this character as administrator of existence. Conspicuously, I think, in relation to this...

 And Noahs Ark occurred after the fall, right so…

 Noahs Ark is a non-option, hehe. One can say “Eco systems – we have to interfere to preserve them”. The coral reefs for instance, pale inspires – blekninger 27.12, several of our eco systems are under pressure. Like 60 or 70 present of our eco systems are under pressure. In the age of the human kind we have to act to secure and preserve our eco systems.

 Helena: But we have to preserve them, we do, and it is because we are not prepared to stop putting them under pressure, or what?

 Yes, I suppose you could stay that, but –

 Helena: It is not that complicated to reduce the pollution, for instance, to decrees the carbon dioxide you could stop driving a car there are many – speaking of infra politics – there are many sets of seeing the implied agreements, that we will never intend to actually adjust our lifestyles. (said ironically ->) It is not worth the hassle, after all.

 Yes, that is a returning issue. Eco modernists thinks that the solution is to continue believing in stronger technology ect. Though the real question is: To what extent do we have to reduce our construction?

 Helena: Though this we perceive as a cost. Then we have to sacrifice something. But to every day deplete, I don’t know how many, species per day…Most people don’t have an active relation to these concepts, because it does not have an impact on their everyday lives.

 Sverker: Yes, well, when I mention infra politics I mean, the lemur, the very last lemur existing.  I believe that there is something growing inside every human being, or most human beings, that there lies an authority…I suppose it is some kind of moralistic ontology of mine, that there is an authority within the human kind that is established into this lemur.

 Helena: Though does this authority manifest - Sverker: No! It does not, no. Helena: - into the cohesive practice? Because then -

 Sverker: No, though then you – and I would like to add a thing to this –

 Peter and Gøran laughts Sverker: - that makes me into some kind of reformist in this, hehe. And then I would really like to argue that one should think of “modernity” as the era of the hundreds of years we have endured. And almost all our surroundings has been constructed within that period of time, or perhaps not agriculture which is much older. For not to mention: we have laws, principals, rules, a moral perception determining right or wrong. All of these things has been created in a manner of centuries by people quite similar to ourselves. I imagine it as a necessity to come up with a different statutory framework the two or three hundred years to come. We simply have to find new principles and new structures and stuff for example an agreement that preserves the world as we know it today, we call it capitalism, confused with democracy. Though I don’t believe it can go on like this for much longer like this, it has to change, though it will not occur within the twenty or thirty years to come, it demands a long term transformation. And, I am going to be held completely accountable for what I am saying now, because I am dead by the time it will happen, but I think there is already much progress. Like, returning to a “progressive thinking” and a constructive and interesting perspective on having a rested nature. Or to have nature at all (or having one in the first place, I think) is a crucial thought, it is a totally different thought then what existed 130 years ago when the first nature preserving companies were created. It was in reality a complete conservative and symbolic nostalgia, pretty pointless really. Peter: Though what about the modernity that we cherish, it has provided us with so much welfare. We cling to it, right. A bit like peeing in your pants, really. (This is only me thinking:  No-no, modernity did not provide welfare – welfare was provided by the brave, thinking, bright, autonomous individuals and collectives in, various manners, questioning and acting upon the established structures of their time.) Sverker: Yes, absolutely! It is going to be a huge sacrifice. Look at the force the nostalgia in Trumps politics brings forward, - though I think it is doomed. Gøran: Yes, well this is no coincidence, and there is a survey suggesting that increased construction and welfare generates happiness to a certain level and then it begins to decrease. Like, the general living conditions in the late 60s is enough, most people realizes this as well. And that is a new feeling. And that is even a seed, an embryo to rethink the concept of never ending growth and increased standards. And this new. Never mind how it (read:Anthropocene?) will be defined in the law books, I think it is something worth believing in.

 Helena: Though it is not simply concerned about, like I think you have to have a larger perspective than reforming economical politics. No former political ideology has not mainly perceived nature and outer surroundings as potential resources, as something to exploit. It is necessary for something completely different to come up in that case.

Peter: Though the hope is based on a “technology optimism”. Like, one is supposed to…like, global warming is supposed to be reduced by new fuel, alternative energy resources ect, though this optimism, in its core, is a denial to make those radical decisions and to act on them. Sverker, you write in your book that technology shall be replaced by suffering.

 Sverker: Yes, well this is what the modernistic, the eco modernistic…

 Peter: Though no one will take on this suffering. Sverker: Yes, and it has been impossible up until now to suggest such a suffering in political terms. And if we have technology and access – and contrary I do not see technology as an enemy, I think there is plenty of good technology. Though the crucial part here is what is implied in this. That there exits a “blueprint” of what is our progress, “ways of how our happiness can spread and so on”, though I believe it provides a fake image even, and it is a project of ridiculous character to try transforming this superficial/fake image into a more representative image of what we are capable of doing while in a volatile state.

 Gøran: Though in these implied…I am very fascinated,  probably because of the Marxism in my spontaneous perspective on the world, though today under “Anthropocene”, Marxist idea historians are encouraging us to wright a story on our species. To get an objective tale on homo sapiens in our history books. Even if capitalism is to blame for the acceleration under and after the 2. World war, with increased constructing ect, perhaps there is an invasive feature to the human, to the species, homo sapiens. And this is because we possess the quite unique quality of collaboration. This quality is often expressed in positive ways considering the “welfare-state” though it also occurs to high extents in warfare. The attack on Iraq in 2013 was a shining example on a large scale, united collaboration, which has caused tremendous destruction and suffering. I find it interesting that even the Marxists suffering from biology horrors, under the “Anthropocene” considers this in biological terms. That there might be something in us, in our biology, in us as biological beings in the biosphere, that we need to acknowledge and seek to understand. Peter: Yes, exactly, I mean, we are the consumers, it is us that create the political ideologies it is us who have disturbed the balance here. Helena: Excuse me, but to an answer to what Gøran is saying here; it is important to keep in mind the cultures that has not contributed to exploitation of environment. Obviously, there is a potential for such a behavior to occur in the human spectrum, though there also lies a potential for completely other behaviors as well, which I think is important to remember.

Gøran: Yes, so do I think, - Helena: Because this drifts towards a merging of the human kind as a species and human kind as a specific sort of human culture. And I think it is important to separate those two terms.

Gøran: Yes, though we have to face duality in this, well…so nature, nature is such a problematic word these days, I almost feel like it is stuck in my mouth. We have to face the duality in our generic being here, where the goal of cooperation is expressed in that we create stabile societies that does not rely on exploitation of recourses. Though it can also shoot of like under the agricultural revolution or the industrial revolution so that it potentially destroys large amounts of the biosphere.  I am fascinated by the Marxist thinkers proclaiming these things to day and articulates a need for putting these thoughts on the agenda. We need to wright the story on the species , it is not enough with the history of society ect., we need to reflect upon ourselves. And I think this is something that has taken place in our time. Peter: Though that is the toughest issue right now, right?  “Anthropocene” - the age of the human kind, though what is…

 Sverker: A cure that is within reach, that is not as utopian as many of the other things we are discussing here, because to wright the history on the human kind/mankind is only possible by an increased access and distribution of intellectual energy – or know-how-. So, what the “species” has come up with is for example – let’s call them – biologists, scientist, experts or analysts, and they have executed high quality craftsmanship in describing certain characteristics to the being we have named “human”. Though all too few from society-research related fields, the human-ethical fields and the artistic fields, have engaged in this matter, it has partly been taboo. And I think what Dipesh Chakrabarty, Chicago historian that has written a lot on this topic, and others mean is not to make historians into biologists – but this is an urge to address and understand what these incredible tight-woven nexuses looked like. In prehistorical times where almost stripped from contact with the biological, now some sort of new interrogation is occurring to better understand our age and the previous ones. And in this case, I in some ways think that there will be more options in terms of how one perceives and thinks around the future. A positive aspect about the capitalism, is after all its receptiveness it has potential of never ending renewal and if one can upgrade what we used to call nature, or if we can upgrade the global, - it would be a part of the solution to increase the value of nature itself. Like, not only monetary though also the moral instances. Gøran: Though we are still stuck. If capitalism is to upgrade nature, it would still be within the frames of the market. With limited resources the cost will rise and so on, and that’s the infra structural. Helena: Though introspection is one of homo sapiens best qualities. The modern version of it at least. Is it not what is demanded as well? I would argue that as a culture, we do not recognize other subjectivities than the human subjectivity. When we act on it, we create this image of the world where we solely are the feeling and thinking beings, and if other beings should inherit the same qualities it is simply a mechanical behavior. Rather than to examine and review ourselves, we should seek to be more responsive to our living environment.

 Sverker: I think this also occurs in the Anthropocene discussion, it is so much going on considering animal studies. Like, an attempt to appreciate? innkännande the closer surroundings, comes across to me as a new and staggering project.

Gøran: Yes, it is new, and science on dogs for instance, or craws or livestock. Like, the line which separates the human being from other primates or animals is thinned out. Helena: Yes, this is interesting when reading about it, though what is consequences? How does it affect our lifestyles? Gøran: Yeah, well, this is in the matter of many thousand years. Helena: Though what does it make us into? It makes us into quite grotesque violators, should I say, if one really… Peter: Though I think… to pin-point what the human being is was an easy task up until a certain time. When it “exploded” sort of, after the enlightenment or the modernity or so, but since then everything has progressed so quickly – commercialism, atom bombs, plastic – in this case, haven’t we lost our prospects somewhere along the way under what we call “Anthropocene”? Gøran: I think that for every new child being born. Then the conscience is restored. Another word for infra politics would be, on an individual level, would be that consciousness. That the conscience is the opportunity to a moral instance that takes more than it can explain. Helena: Speaking of animals, I am thinking, not that you explicitly discuss it, though the image of the technological progress as unstoppable… Now we are discussing humanity and the different options and ways for humans to proceed to. If you go with that thought all the way, maybe we do not have that much of a choice. In some sense, we are relying on the technology system we have been deceived to create. What do you think around this? Do you see the dynamics that have been put into action as something we are able to influence without taking influence over? Sverker: I think that is a superb question, and the answer would be that “Anthropocene” is helpful, at least I have found it helpful in viewing this footprint as a historic product up until now. And that is a pretty strange image, to see this enormous power, though this is a distinct formulation concerning the future. I do not think that it is an irreversible development, “a priori” at least, I think it will be difficult to stop it, but, in principle, it is not unstoppable. It is responsive. And therefore, it is so important to relate it to politics, because it is only by political means one can head in a new direction. It is utterly necessary to do so. And I have, in several books, for instance “Naturkontraktet” from the 90s, expressed optimism regarding the possibilities, even if some literal traces may come across as frightening, and continue to do so, I am convinced that it is possible. And that it is important to keep holding on to that thought. And when I say, “infra politics” it is maybe because I find it important that things proceed inwards, like the organic that is hard to formulate, also considering the politics. Peter: I was thinking about something you mentioned earlier, about the smallness, that you miss former scale, when the earth was still grand. Now, the human being is grand. May the question be if man has grown to grand for its own good?

Yes, well. Peter: Because what are we to do, emission from New York and Europe is causing the Antarctica to melt, it is heating the water which affects the monsoons in India. It is so fragmented and difficult to make sense of, it is difficult to be political in that context… Gøran: We simply must exercise in being “small”. It is not of unimportance. Say you go and buy a flower tree, planting it at a nice spot where it gets the right amount of sun and shadow, and you have an active thought “this is the right spot, the tree will thrive”. Or if you have pets, like cats, dogs or sheep, the interaction with other types of consciousness, other subjectivities than yourself, becomes a practice in making yourself smaller. And I think that is a pretty important thing. People are opening their eyes and realizing this, which is providing hope.

 Peter: So, you think the man in the street will pick up on “Anthropocene” in a matter of time? The word is a bit difficult, it is a bit abstract. Sverker: I heard from someone that had read this word and believed it should be pronounced “Antropoken”, it sounds a bit more like, hehe, fighting the human being. Gøran: Well, is it not remarkable, sometimes you meet children that questions the killing of mosquitoes. That is something new I guess, because it is a harassment of other beings. (outro music) Peter: “Filisofiska rummet”, today we have been discussing the new term “Anthropocene – the age of the human being/humanity”. You heard Sverker Sørlin idea and environmental historian and author of the recent book “Antropocene – en essä om människans tidsålder”, Helena Granstrøm, author with background in physics and mathematics, and author Gøran Greider. Techniques were provided by Marie Person and the show was produced and hosted by me, my name is Peter Sandberg, good bye.

[violaswimmer]

Well, Shit. (A Voltron Fanfiction Chapter 9)

Hey guys! Here’s chapter 9! 10 is on the way I swear! Also there is some Spanish in this chapter, I’m pretty limited when it comes to Spanish so I’m sorry if I made some mistakes! (Special thanks to @ we-are-broken-from-the-inside who helped correct some of my mistakes! You’re the true MVP!) I did put translations in so don’t worry if you only speak English! Enjoy! 

Want to read from the beginning? Here you go!

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/156859812181/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficiton

CHAPTER 10:

http://violaswimmer.tumblr.com/post/157841715481/well-shit-a-voltron-fanficition-chapter-10

Lance and the team get back into their routine but things don’t go well for the paladin in blue when in a routine sweep he runs into Prince Lotor’s fleet. 

Chapter 9: Well, Crap.

Eventually they did leave the planet of Kann, Lance thankful and disappointed. They had stayed the night in the palace because everyone got drunk on whatever they were drinking. It had no effect on the human paladins but Allura and Coran got pretty hammered as well. So they couldn’t just leave them all passed out in the middle of the grand palace so the paladins took turns to be on watch while the rest slept until the early morning.

Allura and Coran woke with headaches and grumpy attitudes but otherwise seemed coherent. So they said goodbye to the Noo and Goo and continued on to save the universe. They continued to help those who had their distress beacons on. That’s when it happened.

Again things went to crap a lot quicker than Lance had anticipated and he barely had time to react. Lance was doing a routine sweep of an area of space, like they normally do. Usually they split into three groups, two in each group and someone back on the ship. However both Hunk and Pidge needed to help with some maintenance on the Castle, leaving Lance, Keith and Shiro to split and do the sweep. Keith and Shiro discussed how to split up, the only way was to have two go in one direction and one to go alone in the other.

Lance offered to go by himself.

“Lance that could be really dangerous.” Shiro said, “Not that I doubt you but I’m not sure…” Shiro trailed off before being interrupted.

“Well if you’re so worried, I’ll take quadrant 41, it’s not nearly as dangerous so I’ll be fine. Plus that way you guys can handle everything in 42, since Galra seem to be everywhere. If you need back up you can let me know.” Lance said.

He couldn’t see Shiro or Keith since they were talking through the comms but he heard Shiro sigh.

“Alright. Keep in contact at all times.” Shiro said sternly.

“Yes, sir!” Lance said, even saluting although he knew Shiro he couldn’t see it.

So the lions split up, Keith going with Shiro and Lance going by himself in the other direction. He should have known it wouldn’t have been that easy.

For the most part the sweep was going well, aside from an asteroid that tried to knock Blue on her ass. Things were going smoothly and he was nearly done with it when an entire Galra fleet wormholed right in front of him. Lance recognized that ship anywhere. Lotor.

Lance moved fast, practically yelling into the comms.

“Prince Lotor is in Quadrant 41! I repeat Prince Lotor is in quadrant 41!” Lance shouted, dodging debris and flying as fast as he could but where would he go?

He couldn’t go back to the Castle, he wasn’t going to lead Lotor right to Allura which he knew that’s what he wanted. Maybe he could wait for the rest of the team to come to him. They could form Voltron, fend him off while Allura and the Castle got ready to wormhole.

He then realized that no one was replying, all he heard was static. Great. Really fucking great. Lance breathed, all he had to do what lead him away or lose him. Lance could do that. Right?

So Lance continued to run, like he was desperate to get back to the Castle and the fleet followed quickly behind.

 Shiro and Keith had made it through their sweep and were heading back to the Castle when they heard something strange. The comms had made a loud shrieking noise and went completely dead. The sound almost blew out Shiro’s eardrum.

“Keith? Can you hear me?” Shiro asked insistently. After a moment of trying to get the connection back Keith answered.

“Yeah, but what the hell was that sound?” Keith asked sounding irritated and concerned.

“I-I don’t know.” Shiro had a thought, “Lance, LANCE! Come in!” Shiro insisted.

Nothing. Just static.

“Shit!” Keith said, trying his own comms, “Lance, buddy are you there?” Keith asked really worrying now. Nothing.

“Allura, can you hear me?” Shiro asked.

“Yes! What’s happening?” Allura asked, hearing the worry in Shiro’s voice.

“We can’t get in contact with Lance! He- the comms just cut out for a moment and when they came back we couldn’t- couldn’t hear him!” Shiro said, panic rising with each word. He wasn’t about to lose Lance after all of this, not a chance.

“Hold on, Hunk and Pidge are on their way to the lions, I’ll look for his signal and give you the coordinates.” Allura said, stoic.

There was a slight pause while Allura worked and Shiro grew more anxious with each silent beat.

“I-I found him but…” Allura sounded like she was choking, her voice very tight, “He’s surrounded by Galra forces. He’s surrounded by Lotor’s forces. They appeared out of nowhere! How did they find him?!” Allura questioned, her own panic rising in her voice.

“Allura! It’s alright, we’re all going to get him. Send me the coordinates we need to move fast.” Shiro said.

“Lance is here.” The coordinates appearing on the screen in front of Shiro, “But he’s moving quickly away from us, far away. He’s headed…” She gasped, “He’s headed right into an asteroid field. Lance is in grave danger, you must get to him before he enters it!” She insisted.

“Understood.” Shiro said as Pidge and Hunk emerged from the Castle the four of them moving quickly to save their friend.

 Lance saw the asteroid field and he knew two things. One, that this was about to get really complicated. Two that Lotor didn’t have a chance of getting through this field. Lance didn’t have much of a chance either, but he didn’t have a choice. He was going to protect everyone for as long as he could. So he entered the field without a second thought.

He and Blue were flying together but it was getting easier to distinguish who was who. He felt himself inside her (not in the creepy way get your minds out of the gutter) and they were one but distinct from one another. Lance had a thought. It was something that was probably dangerous, Coran had come to talk to him about his bond, the dangers of it several days before.

“There are somethings you need to know my boy. Flying Blue through your bond is a very powerful and wonderful thing. However it is also very dangerous. Paladin and Lion become one, intermingling essences, quintessence and even their soul. It can be wonderful, flying is easier, you become better at forming Voltron but it is extremely dangerous melding minds like that. So don’t ever, ever go deeper than necessary or else there may be consequences.” Coran said.

And look what Lance was doing, going deeper. Sorry Coran, he thought to himself and the kind Altean. But otherwise there was nothing else he could do, he was not going to get captured again because that fucked him up enough the first time. He wasn’t going back to the Castle because Lotor would not get his hands on Allura as long as Lance was alive. So Lance sunk deeper and deeper into his bond until he was barely there and Blue’s body truly became his, not just her eyes, everything.

He thought the feeling would be different, more mechanical since in reality Blue was a robotic magic lion. But instead he felt the way she moved like muscles, she was completely alive and Lance realized now that this had only gotten stranger. However he ignored everything and focused on where he was flying. The fleet was following him quickly. But no one attacked him, he was sure that Lotor simply wanted to follow him so that the real battle can start when they got to the Castle. On some level Lotor must had known that Lance was leading him away and not to, but for whatever reason he followed Lance anyway.

So Lance flew right into the asteroid field, he had done this before but this field was made up of the blue crystals that had a tendency to explode. Yeah those ones. And they were closely packed together. The Blue lion was observant, knowing one false move would send not only the Galra fleet but the lion up in flames with it. So she flew quickly but carefully between the beautiful but dangerous crystals turning slightly to see if the fleet dared to follow. They did. Lance looked back, they were crazy but maybe this could work. He knew he didn’t have any other option, so he prayed to god that he’d somehow make it out alive. He moved in further, luring them in until they were closer to the field. Then he shot up, turning around and shooting the large crystal closest to Lotor’s fleet. The explosion was spectacular.

 They flew as fast as they could, however each second was agony. Shiro saw the dot that was supposed to be Lance move its way into the asteroid field. Shiro sucked in a harsh breath and practically screamed when the dot disappeared completely. This could not be happening, there was no way.

“Lance!” Shiro cried.

“What?! What happened?!” Hunk asked, desperate.

“We just lost Lance’s signal, we need to hurry!” Shiro said voice cracking.

So they moved even quicker if that was possible and as they drew closer they saw the huge fleet. The ship so familiar and not in a good way and the asteroid field behind them, the blue and green crystals some in mid explosion. Lance flew into that. Lance was in that explosion. Lance.

Shiro’s rage blinded him for one second but that was all it took, wings sprouted from the back of his lion and he was destroying everything in sight literally cutting a path to Lance. Lotor’s ship moved out of the way, already taking damage from the explosions of the crystals, moving to flee. But at the moment Shiro nor the rest of the team cared, they cut and destroyed everything to get to Lance.  

Shiro looked everywhere for something, anything that even remotely looked like the Blue lion.

“There!” Keith shouted, drawing Shiro’s attention.

Floating above the asteroid field was the Blue Lion, unmoving and black on one side but mostly intact or at least he hoped.

“Lance!” Hunk shouted.

The Red lion raced forward, being the quickest among them with Yellow following close behind. Between the two of them they were able to bring the Blue lion back. Shiro kept his attention on the Galra fleet, the explosions had done a number on them. But they weren’t here for the fight, ships and weapons too damaged. So he watched as they formed a wormhole and escaped leaving Voltron behind.

They contacted Allura, telling her their coordinates and the Castle wormholed there quickly. The Red and Yellow lions escorting Blue inside.

As soon as they landed everyone ran out of their lions, like they had when Lance was first back from capture, the events being all too similar. Why was it always Lance? Hadn’t he had enough? But they ran as fast as their feet could carry them but the mouth of the Blue lion would not open at first.

“Blue!” Hunk shouted, “I know you’re hurt but we need to get to Lance! Please! Blue?” Hunk called.

Blue eyes glowed slightly, just barely and the mouth fell open before the eyes stopped glowing completely. Without the ramp they were focused to climb Blue in order to get inside. The inside of Blue was relatively unharmed, however sparks of electricity crackled and when they got to Lance they sighed a breath of relief for he too appeared unharmed but unconscious. Allura arrived inside with Coran following behind.

She pulled off Lance’s helmet. Revealing blood that painted the back of Lance’s helmet a vibrant shade of red.

“That’s a lot of blood.” Pidge stated in shock.

Allura looked pale, “It looks like a lot but thankfully it actually not all that much. However I’m more worried about his brain.” She took Lance’s face in both hands, “Lance! Lance can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes!” Allura commanded. As she called to him, Coran pressed a rag to the back of his head, stopping the bleeding.

Nothing happened at first but slowly Lance blinked, Allura held his face because he seemed to have no energy to hold up his own head. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief until she saw his eyes. They were glowing blue, an extremely vibrant shade of blue that she could see vividly through the crack of his eyelids.  

“Coran.” Allura said, slightly panicked.

Coran stepped forward and swallowed hard at the sight.

“Oh no.” He whispered, taking Lance’s head with his own hands Allura stepping aside to let him.

“What’s happening?” Shiro demanded.

There was a long silence until Lance said something.

“Espera, estoy confundido. ¿Dónde estoy?” Lance said groggily, his voice did not sound like his.

“What?” Keith asked, he knew that was Spanish but he didn’t know how to speak it.

“He’s confused, he doesn’t know where he is.” Hunk stated, of course he knows Spanish, Keith thought.

Hunk stepped forward, patting Lance’s shoulder.

“ Hola, socio. Estás en el espacio, ¿Sabes quién eres?” Hunk said.

“What are you saying?” Shiro asked.

Hunk turned slightly, “I’m telling him that he’s in space, I’m asking if he know who he is.” Hunk stated.

Lance looked at Hunk and then away, shaking his head despite his injury as if he couldn’t feel the pain. Coran moved his hands from his face to support the back of Lance’s neck so Lance’s head flopped to the side.

“ No, estoy muy confundido. Estoy aqui y allá, ¿Qué está sucediendo?” Lance asked, voice very very soft.

Hunk looked a little shocked before he told the rest what Lance had said.

“He says he’s too confused. He says he’s here and there and asks what’s happening but I don’t know what that means.” Hunk said panic rising in his voice.

Coran shock his head, “Lance has gone too deep into his bond. He doesn’t know who he is because he went too deep.” Coran stated, “I tried to warn him-“

“What do you mean too deep?” Shiro asked.

“When you pilot your lions your bonds become, well there are levels. So bonding in order to see out of the eyes of a lion is rather simple in terms of how much of the lion you can use. I told Lance to never, under any circumstances to delve deeper into the bond to say, use Blue’s entire body as his own. Lance’s mind and Blue would become so entangled in one another that it is possible to get lost. It’s why his eyes look the way they do because Blue is in his body too. Here and there, he in his body and there in Blue’s body.” Coran stated.

“Wait, you’re saying that Lance and the Blue lion are literally both in Lance’s body right now and in this body?” Pidge questioned, pointing at the Blue lion they were standing in, growing pale.

“Not all of Blue just part of her in Lance’s body anyway.” Coran stated, “Right now they’re too close to distinguish who is who. But we can try to help Lance realize who he is. If we talk to him he might become aware of himself. Memories, things shared, things unique to Lance. We might be able to pull him out of it.” Coran said but his face was grim.

Hunk nodded, determined and began to speak Spanish to Lance.

“¿Recuerdas cuando nos conocimos? Yo era muy timido y tu demasiado extrovertido. Pero nos hicimos amigos enseguida porque me dijiste que debo temerle a todo. Soliamos robar comida de los cuarteles cuando tenía hambre. Solia decirte que no pelearas con otros chicos, pero igual lo hacias. ¿Lo recuerdas, Lance? Ahora defendemos el universo de chicos malos. Aún te metes en problemas aún cuando te digo que no. Lance, necesito que vuelvas conmigo, amigo.”

Do you remember when we first met? I was very shy and you were very outgoing. But we became friends right away because you told me that I shouldn't be afraid of everything. We stole food from the barracks when I got hungry. I told you not to pick a fight with the other kids but you did anyway. Do you remember Lance? Now we defend the universe from bad guys. You still get into trouble even when I tell you not to. Lance I need you to come back to me, buddy.

The rest of the team had no idea what Hunk was saying, none of them fluent in Spanish. But the words seemed to affect Lance, slowly his eyes were growing dull, the glow dissipating until by the end of the speech Lance looked normal again. He blinked still confused.

“Hunk?” Lance asked.

Hunk grabbed Lance in a hug that was crushing his lungs.

“LANCE!” Hunk shouted.

“Lance!” Everyone else shouted, laughing with relief.

Allura pushed her way passed Hunk and Coran examining Lance, seeing if he was concussed.

“Do you feel ill? Confused? What’s your name and who are you?” She asked, inspecting Lance’s eyes carefully.

He answered dutifully.

“No, yes, my name is Lance and I am the blue paladin of Voltron.” Lance said.

She nodded, staring a bit more before letting him go.

“I think you are concussed but only slightly. Half an hour in the healing pod and you should be as good as new!” The Princess said with a smile.

“Alright but while we have you here, what happened?” Shiro asked seriously, taking a knee in front of Lance so he could look at him carefully, watching his eyes.

“I-I was sweeping the quadrant and it was going well…” Lance took a moment to think, “And suddenly Lotor’s fleet came out of nowhere. They just wormholed right in front of me… I knew I couldn’t go to the Castle. He wanted Allura and wasn’t going to lead him right to her. So I ran. I tried to call for help but the… the comms were off. Nothing but static. So I lead them away…” He paused again, shaking his head trying to concentrate at the task but his head was so fuzzy, “The asteroid field was my only chance, so I went in but I had to go deeper in my bond with Blue. I know Coran warned me. I knew seeing through her eyes wasn’t enough. So I went just above the point where I disappeared completely, coming together right at the edge. We… we went into the field and the fleet followed me or us I don’t know. So I drew them in and flew up at the last second to aim at one of the crystals that was closest to the fleet. But the crystals were so close to one another and they all blew up and I… I was too close.” Lance admitted, “But for some reason, I hit my head and I… I slipped. I dipped too deep into Blue and I got lost. I couldn’t tell what was me and what was her. I was here in my body and in her eyes. I was everywhere and nowhere it was… really confusing. But I heard Hunk talking to me and I just followed his voice and I kind of came back to myself.” Lance said finally.

Shiro blinked, he wasn’t sure understood everything Lance had said but he was sure going to try.

“I want to know…” Allura began, “How Lotor found us.” Allura wondered.

Lance was shaking his head.

“No they didn’t find us they found me.” Lance said.

“What?” Allura said shocked when she realized he was right, “But how?” She asked.

There was silence before Lance spoke.

“The quintessence.” Lance said his eyes widening with realization. “Like how Zarkon could sense the black lion through their bond and quintessence. It must be…” Lance trailed off.

“That… yes that’s quite possible.” Allura admitted.

Lance looked at the ground, looking tired and ashamed. Shiro put a hand on his knee, grabbing his attention.

“Hey, don’t worry about it for now.” Shiro said.

“No. We have to. If we don’t do anything then he’ll just keep coming and eventually he’ll be close enough to the Castle to get Allura and I am not letting that happen.” Lance said seriously.

Allura was a little shocked, not shocked about how Lance wouldn’t let anything happen to her but how sincere he was. She had not realized how much Lance had grown to care for her.

“Lance, I appreciate you trying to protect me but Shiro is-“ But she was cut off.

“NO! You do not understand what he is capable of, you think you know but you don’t!” Lance shouted, tears escaping his eyes, “I will NOT allow any of you to be captured or even interact with that guy! He’s sick and cruel and none of you need to experience that.” Lance said, softer now.

Honestly he wasn’t sure they were ready to know what exactly happened. He hadn’t remotely told them the details of his time of Lotor’s ship. They should know and it wasn’t that Lance wasn’t ready to confess, he wasn’t sure he wanted them to know. What would it do to them? Were they ready? But they needed to know to understand.

“He put needles in every patch of skin he could find, deep. Sometimes he would electrocute me, for hours. It was painful. But the quintessence was worse. It burned like fire in my body I would be in agony for hours, seizing and barely being able to breathe like being suspended in the moment before you die. He would enjoy my reactions. Somethings he did it for answers, which I never gave him although that made him more excited. But sometimes he came and did things to just get a reaction. Stab me to see me in pain, talk to me to confuse me, try to convince me to betray you, promising to end the pain. I never said anything but I admit I was tempted… but it wasn’t the pain that made me want to talk. The hallucinations. He knew I was having them. I’d see him first, sometimes he turned into other people like Shiro, or my mom or really anyone I knew. They’d tell me I was better off dead. They told me to give up. It’s hard to fight against your own mind when it’s trying to make you give up… I must have said something when I was delirious, so sometimes he could play the role of my hallucination and I would talk to him. I thought he was my mind but it was so hard to tell what was real and what was fake. Mostly I begged him to let me die, to let me go.” Lance said, he looked at the ground at that last bit, shame clear on his face.

“He didn’t and I don’t think he ever intended to let me die. He’s twisted and under no circumstances will any of you experience that, especially you Allura. What happened to me, I’m glad it happened to me and not to any of you. I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy. So no, we will deal with this now even if that means I leave temporarily.” Lance said finally.

Everyone was still processing what he said but then they realized.

“No you are not leaving, we will find another way Lance.” Shiro assured him.

Lance shook his head.

“Unless there’s a way to remove or… change the quintessence so he can’t track me, this is our only option for now.” Lance said with a smile to Shiro.

There was more silence but then Allura spoke.

“There might be a way.” She admitted quietly, but her face said she didn’t like the idea.

“Really?” Lance said, surprised.

“Yes but it’s extremely dangerous.” Allura said.

“Wait, Princess, you can’t be referring…” Coran began with look on her face he had his answer, “Quiznack that’s… NO we can’t it is simply too dangerous!” Coran said outraged.

“Whatever it is let’s do it.” Lance said.

“You haven’t even-“ Allura began.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m a part of this team and I don’t want to leave but you guys are important. Just tell me what I need to do.” Lance said.

There was an anxious silence while everyone looked from Lance to Allura.

She set her shoulders and took a breath.

“Well first you’ll need to die.” She said seriously.

[mtlreviews2020]

BLINK: Hashtags, Headlines and COVID-19 – The Market Theatre Laboratory’s rendition of theatre for online consumption, made in COVID-19. By Rethabile Headbush

The Market Theatre laboratory students have created yet another production this year, titled Blink. Produced by the Market Theatre Laboratory, the second years of the program have devised a fun and entertaining parody, poking fun at all the craziness surrounding South Africans during the nation’s Lockdown. Blink presents a ridiculous news broadcast fit for social media.

From the onset, we are introduced to the Blink world as a fly on the wall, peering into the behind the scenes preparations of the social media news team characters and their efforts to get the final “on screen” moment. An emphasis must be placed on “effort”, as this team barely gets away with the production of the broadcast. Throughout the piece there is ducking and diving over and under cameras, the camera man missing cues revealing seconds of some of the character’s funny off-screen moments. In one moment, after the news anchor introduces the “politically woke” analyst’s analysis on the president’s address, we catch a few seconds of him switching from on-screen TV smiles to off-screen frustration. The reasons behind his frustrations are then revealed in a split-screen, where we see the studio team, behind the scenes, initiating a scheduled sanitizing and fumigation break alongside the analyst’s analysis (which resembles a Twitter rant more than an objective inquiry).

In other “efforts” to carry out the broadcasts, there is the constant appearing and reappearing of the boom mic in every studio segment, as though it too is competing for camera time. There are studio team members distracting or ruining another’s scene, such as in the case where the news anchor takes pictures of the field reporter in studio on his cell phone, while she is giving her union buildings report. In another scene, the costume lady runs her clothing rail full of clothes right into the social forecast report and moments before we switch back to the anchor, we hear the forecaster exclaim hilariously exclaim – “what the fuck bra?”.  All the mishaps and fails that happen behind, and on camera, provide playful answers to the question of what could possibly go wrong in a broadcast.

The magic of the show lies in the split-screen moments that the Market Lab students stylistically chose, adding a fresh spin to the piece’s structure. As distinguished in the above mentioned examples, the moments on screen are made so much more interesting with the provided mini stories from the behind the scenes, that is if you are able to peer your eyes away from the world in front of the camera. Assuming the news broadcast style may have been reason why I found myself naturally leaning towards the on-camera split, it felt surprisingly comfortable to watch the piece in split-screen during the segments. This may owe to the choice to switch to and from full and split screen, inviting the audience to  peer into small behind-the-scene moments.

There are many moments in the behind-the-scene splits that are nuanced and detailed.  The comedic character relationships: the hopelessly devoted costume/make-up lady who, though sometimes forgetful, is always ready to provide the news anchor with the necessary touch up. Moments leading up to disaster and character role switch moments are well thought out and satisfying to watch. A lovely character-switch moment is seen when the camera man passes the camera to another team member and rushes to grab a blazer from the costume rack, to become the expert Scammotologist. On top of these choreographed and detailed moments, the characters themselves bring a unique flare to each segment of the piece. As an ensemble, the second years support each other, where everyone is fully aware of their part in the piece and how it connects to the next person and the piece, as a whole. As individuals, each performer finds a unique and relevant way to present their character, enhancing the social media theme of the piece. Each member of the Poke News broadcasting team played not just one role or person, but many roles. This multi-role embodiment speaks directly to our social medias,  where the platform gives many a space to many. The space to enhance oneself or to become another persona – clearly demonstrated by the same costume/make-up lady becoming the dazzling Data Index reporter.

The characters really carried the show, each bringing their own unique individual flair to the piece. Costume choices were prevalent and clear further, colouring the already recognisable and fun characters like the “big English” experts we see on the news, or interviewees in a field report who are passionate and sometimes don’t answer questions accordingly. In a sense, the Market theatre Laboratory students created two pieces – on stage and on camera - which were then presented as two versions of themselves, working together but also separately, as a possible way of bringing in theatre on screen.

The Woke Analyst’s text, one of the many well written moments of the show, was funny because one could easily identify someone in our circles who finds ways to make politics of any situation even when they sometimes don’t fully understand their subject matter. The catchy “What Would Mandela Do?” to our generation that is flooded with Mandela praise. The Scammotologist’s rambling and over-exaggerated use of jargon was just as funny, at one moment suggesting to “dismantle this emmantled entanglement” when the anchor asked him to answer the question. Instead, he proceeds to ramble on “resulting in the mainspringing of all maloproposims” which we, as the viewer, never get to fully understand.

The Market Lab students must be applauded for their experimentation with theatre on the online platform and on-screen. Blink sits well on the screen and as a theatrical piece, leaving us with a great interpretation of how theatre can be on screen. The main question I was left with was, “What does this piece really wanted to say about our current times and the topic of social media?”. With engaging and entertaining content, the piece missed an overall “Why? and What?”, with regards to the subject matter it was interrogating. In its headlines it touched on politics; #Feesmustfall; and technology not being available to third world countries. In its top stories it touched on our fears of the extent and possible consequences of 2020’s COVID-19; Lockdown cigarette bans; and the unaffordability of data. Although all very relevant and pressing questions, the show does not tie all the topics together to make a statement on any of the themes. This is the punch missing in the piece’s comedy. Overall, the concept is strong and engaging. With a bit more thought and refinement, Blink will grow to become and even more solid piece of important theatre.

With all the ridiculousness that comes with Blink, the show is not only entertaining but sheds light on our social media culture and the fake news and misinformation that we hear of almost every day. The piece will have any South African relating to our new normal, whether sanitizing at every moment, our ongoing data struggles or forgetting the dreaded mute button in a Zoom meeting. Blink was available on the Market Theatre laboratory’s social media Facebook and Instagram pages from Tuesday July 14 until Sunday July 19 and is an easy 20minute watch. It is still up on the Lab’s Instagram (IGTV) and will form part of the DFL festival (20 – 24th August). You will enjoy it alone, but I advise, for full on enjoyment, it is best viewed with company.

[bbreferencearchive]

My Adventures in the Bardo

Over recent months I have been participating in interviews with Niklas Göransson for Bardo Methodology, a printed magazine published on a, um, somewhat improvisational timetable in Sweden. If you are at all interested in knowing what makes me tick at the deepest levels of my being, particularly in relation to what inspires me in my creative work, this series of interviews may be of interest to you.

Bardo Methodology is an English-language magazine featuring interviews with artists, musicians, philosophers, mystics, scholars, scientific researchers, and weirdos like me who are given to mixing disciplines. The magazine explores a broad range of unusual topics, with emphasis on the strange and esoteric. It is aimed at seekers of a deepening understanding of reality, and examines techniques that may be an aid to them in their search. The visual design of the magazine is facilitated by artist Timo Ketola, and leans to the shadow side of the visual art spectrum.

A somewhat abridged version of my first interview with Niklas as can be read below. The full version is published in Bardo Methodology #2, and the second interview in the series will appear in issue #3. The physical magazine is distributed in North America by The Ajna Offensive: https://www.theajnaoffensive.com. Elsewhere the magazine can be ordered from BardoMethodology.com, where you can also read highlights of past articles and see images of some fascinating art.

-Bobby (yes it's really me) BeauSoleil

Bardo Methodology Interview (Part One)

Niklas Göransson

Musician, writer and visual artist; Bobby BeauSoleil is also serving a life sentence in prison. His tale is one of being condemned to die, of cultivating spirituality in nightmarish surroundings, and drawing upon the arcane to survive hell.

This is an excerpt from the full article -  which is twice as long, significantly more in-depth, and featured in Bardo Methodology #2.

Bobby BeauSoleil presently resides within the California penitentiary system. Having initially been handed the death penalty, he's currently sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison for a homicide connected to the so-called Manson Family. This case is heavily documented elsewhere, so we shall waste no time on it. I have the pleasure of introducing to you an artist in every conceivable sense of the word, one who should not be defined by poor choices made fifty years ago.

- I was a mess when they brought me to the San Quentin Death Row. Maintaining sanity was already a lost cause by that point; two trials, a year in the Los Angeles County Jail, and exposure to all the hysteria and madness around Charlie Manson had put me through the wringer. Worst of all was the burden of the crime I had committed.

In April 1970, Bobby BeauSoleil was found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to die. Two years later, the California Supreme Court ruled the death penalty statute unconstitutional, following which his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment.

- The shame of having killed a decent man for reasons which cannot be justified as honourable weighed heavily on me. I had dishonoured myself, my family and many other people I cared about - and at that point I hadn't even begun to come to terms with the personal consequences for what I'd done. The problem with shame is that it's so debilitating, nothing much happens in that state; it mesmerises the mind, rendering self-actuated thought nearly impossible.

To make matters worse, this sort of mental stasis is for the most part reinforced by the prison environment.

- What ultimately saved me was the epiphany that imprisonment is a state of mind. Prisons by their very design serve to reduce the incarcerated to powerlessness, to hold them in place not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well. Only by connecting to one's spiritual centre does any kind of liberation become possible.

How does one forgive oneself for something like this then, can it be done?

- Given a little nourishment, the mind will eventually loosen its grip on shame. This reveals the guilt, of course, which is only a marginal improvement but at least allows a bit of wiggle-room in beginning the process of accounting for oneself.

Being in the position Bobby was at the time - a handsome young man, a gifted musician with his whole life ahead of him but incarcerated in what by all accounts sounds like a fairly unsavoury milieu; I'm thinking it must have required immense mental strength to not only keep it together but also make something positive out of the situation.

- Willpower is overrated. I tried for years to give up cigarettes using willpower alone - multiple times, and it didn't work. What I've discovered is that breaking old habits or achieving personal goals has more to do with self-identification than determination, at least in my case. Once I realised how being subordinate to an external substance is not who I am, that was it; nicotine no longer had a hold on me.

At that point, willpower and determination became allies in dissolving a habit no longer serving him.

- I have applied this principle many times throughout my life. Long ago, I decided that prison and the criminal label that comes attached to it would not define me. I will not allow myself to internally identify as one who is imprisoned. I am the expression of freedom itself, regardless of external circumstance. Willpower comes into play only as a helpful tool for maintaining resolve.

Bobby is quite understandably a bit wary of interviews, following a disastrous one in the seventies when an American writer called Truman Capote visited him in San Quentin. A well-known author, playwright and actor who had his peak in the fifties and sixties, Capote's work has spawned more than twenty films and television dramas. He died in 1984, at fifty-nine years of age.

- When I recently read in a biography that Capote had routinely exploited his subjects, it came as no surprise to me. At the time I agreed to meet with him, in late 1972 or early '73, I was completely ignorant of his approach to journalism and hadn't read anything he'd written. My decision to speak with him was foolish, predictably so because I made it while clinging to the hope that such a famous writer might bring some advocacy to my cause.

As Bobby himself learned, desperate needs often result in poor decisions.

- I made a bunch of bad choices during that period of my life. Reportedly, Capote did not take notes - claiming to have an infallible memory despite the alcoholism that's been noted as a prominent feature of his story. Little wonder how the version of our conversation he published in his 1980 Music for Chameleons book bears only marginal resemblance to the original interview.

There is a notable comment in the article which I believe Bobby has verified as authentic, although not quite in the context it was used: 'Everything in life is good. It all flows. It's all good. It's all music.'

- The statement you've quoted comes fairly close to one of the remarks I made to him, though paraphrased. What had been an attempt at describing my fledgling spiritual philosophy was in Capote's fictionalised interview piece framed in the context of a vague rationalisation for murder. I rather stupidly walked into that one. At the time, I was unaware of his fetishist penchant for having his readers perceive him in the company of young male killers. History is written by fools, and it's our own fault for being so gullible. Truman Capote was one of those writers who helped make fake news the new normal. Enough said about him.

Bobby explains that statements such as 'Life just flows; it's all good.' work only if attributed to the 'eternal witness as existence itself'.

- From the perspective of an individual soul undergoing the human condition, such a statement seems like one only an insane person would make. Of course, there are many things we experience as bad; pain, fear, violence, war, disease, death. We can all agree that victimisation is evil - no argument from me there, speaking from the humanity we all hold in common.

Only through identification with the eternal does it become possible to understand, he decrees, that things we experience as negative or evil while we dwell in worldly conditions are fleeting and transitory, and therefore unreal.

- They are in no way a stain on the innate goodness of one's existence as the divine. From this standpoint, it becomes possible to find peace even in the midst of incredible turmoil. This is how I survived hell.

On that note, Bobby's parole was denied once again on October 14, 2016.

- I've been before the parole authorities for consideration on roughly twenty occasions in the past forty-seven years. Actually, so many times that me and the parole board both have lost accurate count. A quick glance at U.S. incarceration statistics will reveal the insanity of the currently existing criminal justice system.

He says this has little to do with its stated purpose of preserving public safety, and is driven by socio-political-economic forces.

- Of course, my one-time affiliation with some disreputable persons contributes additional wrinkles which from the standpoint of someone on the parole board or holding political office makes my case more complicated. Consequently, factors such as good behaviour, vocational accomplishments, community support and other evidence of rehabilitation have had little bearing on outcomes up to this point.

During Bobby's most recent hearing last year, the parole board assessed the time for his crime to fifteen years.

- This would suggest I'm well overdue for parole given that I've served thirty-two years beyond this assessment. In any case, the mere fact that one has finally been made is perhaps indicative of my outlooks for parole having improved. We'll see what the next hearing brings.

Going through this endless cycle of appeals and denials must be a ghastly emotional roller-coaster?

- Karma is a bitch! The spell I wove for myself when I so thoughtlessly put myself in this situation has become so tangled up with subsequent events that I have as yet contrived the one capable of unravelling and unbinding me. For the meantime, I do what I must to keep my spirit in a good place.

Bobby says that self-pity is a poor companion and a pointless waste of time - he alone is responsible for landing himself in this predicament.

- Learning how to take ownership for consequences, in addition to all the other valuable lessons I've received along the way, may well have been worth the sacrifices I purchased when those fateful choices were made so long ago. There's always the Great Work, and this along with some deep and abiding relationships with friends and family have sustained me through the hard times.

Bobby has been in prison longer than I've been alive. At my age, he'd already been locked up almost half his life. As such, time is a concept I suspect we have a profoundly different relationship to.

- Notions about time and the experience of time are an endless playground wherever in the universe one finds oneself. As a musician, I've been playing with and cutting up time in various ways nearly all my life, and no doubt many previous lifetimes.

He explains that music is, among other things, the study of how time can be broken into beats - and how the subjective experience of time warps psychologically.

- Time wraps upon itself in a circular manner through all the Yugas like the Buddha's proverbial river and stretches in Einsteinian fashion depending on the rate of velocity in relative space. The illusion of time seems to progress linearly for everyone who visits this physical reality, when in truth it's all a single eternal moment.

As if all of this wasn't enough to grapple with, the invention of prisons has given us the diabolical concept of 'doing' time.

- That's old convict jargon for time being done to a person as punishment for a crime. I find this notion the worst kind of self-abuse a society can inflict on itself. Sure, I experience time like most people in the world. It seems to crawl when I observe it, and slips away all too fast when I look away. And people I love have left the world all too soon.

Bobby says there can be great discomfort experienced in the subjective passage of time, but none worse than the pain from deprivation of normal social connections and creative opportunity.

- If my life exemplifies only one thing, it's that I've absolutely crushed the notion of doing time - or having time done to me. I have not accepted the bizarre idea that my lifetime should be treated as a sentence. This is how I've managed to escape the apparent limitations of my physical confinement and make opportunities and connections most other people I've known in prison seem unable to find. A few have benefited from my example, and hopefully others will find in it some inspiration to seek a brighter path, both inside and outside of prison. That may be my true legacy.

[liveonlinematches]

A online game famed for its realism and a spotlight to element misses the mark in its try to constitute homosexual footballers

(Norwich Town)

Lately I used to be speaking with a chum who’s recently at first phases of popping out as homosexual. She’s wrestling with the entire questions that everybody who’s had to do that confronted: How do I inform my folks? SHOULD I inform my folks? How will issues cross at paintings if I come available in the market? What prison protections would I’ve in the event that they fired me or if the paintings atmosphere was poisonous? Can I come up with the money for to be out all over the place, or will I’ve to stick closeted in sure portions of my lifestyles?

However she requested any other query that I hadn’t even regarded as:

Why do I even wish to pop out in any respect?

During which she intended: who am I actually serving through hanging myself thru all this? Is it actually for my receive advantages? Or is that this only a ritual efficiency I’m hanging on for my instantly buddies? A birthday celebration I’m throwing them so I will make a disclosure I’m unofficially required to me, and so they may be able to be ok with themselves for having no less than one homosexual good friend?

It’s a query I by no means actually regarded as once I got here out. (I’ve needed to do it two times, as soon as at 14 once I got here out as bi after which final yr once I got here out as trans.) I’m wondering now if perhaps I must’ve, and given it some actual idea. I targeted such a lot on logistics and timing that I by no means actually stopped to totally imagine who I used to be doing all this for.

I point out all this as a result of the preferred online game Soccer Supervisor 2018 now means that you can have homosexual football gamers to your workforce. Relying on which portions of the web you spend essentially the most time, that is both being hailed as a essential step at the trail to social development and towards without equal purpose of Sexual Orientation Now not Mattering To Any person; or derided as any other instance of id politics seeping into puts the place it merely has no industry, and but extra distinctive feature signalling at the a part of content material creators so as to become profitable and/or shove an time table down their target audience’s throat. And the entire whilst I will’t assist however suppose: who’s all this for, anyway?

(For the needs of this newsletter, I’m going to be referring essentially to males’s football during. The tradition of the ladies’s sport is such that a number of most sensible tier gamers, together with quite a few individuals of america squad that gained the 2015 International Cup, can really feel protected and supported sufficient to be out publicly. Homophobia and transphobia are found in girls’s football, to make certain, nevertheless it’s on a a lot more modest scale in comparison to the boys’s sport.)

One glaring conceivable solution to the query of who that is occupied with: tabloids. In October, the Day by day Celebrity ran a entrance web page headline alleging that there are two homosexual footballers recently taking part in within the Premier League who’re out to their teammates. The headline and connected tale used to be closely sensationalized, with a breathless tone extra becoming rumors of individuals of the royal circle of relatives dishonest on their spouses. The consequences had been glaring: if that is true—they usually by no means again up their reporting and normally admit someplace within the textual content that it’s simply hypothesis—then this can be a bona fide scandal, and readers must be stunned and appalled.

Individuals who care about this type of factor condemned the paper.

Discussing homophobia in game and the way to take on it? Nice. Speculating in regards to the sexuality of gamers at the entrance web page? In reality no longer nice. http://pic.twitter.com/Wryuvt9NUU

— Stonewall (@stonewalluk) October 24, 2017

Numerous other folks wrote it off as scummy tabloid fodder.

To counter your argument, it’s the Day by day Celebrity…..it’s normally filled with crap.

— Mark George (@mpgeorge84) October 24, 2017

The veracity and respectability of British tabloids apart, you don’t wish to challenge very a ways to look why a homosexual footballer would possibly no longer need to pop out of the closet. For the entire communicate amongst some in soccer fandom about how sexual orientation doesn’t subject, the truth that tabloids can nonetheless promote papers and advert area through framing all these tales as scandals obviously illustrates that it issues so much.

The builders of Soccer Supervisor attempt to simulate the worldwide soccer ecosystem as faithfully as conceivable. The sport even accounts for the results of Brexit now.  However no simulation can ever be an excellent mirrored image of truth. Designers must make alternatives as to what variables to account for and which to go away out. Once we’re speaking a couple of simulation as advanced as Soccer Supervisor, there aren’t many variables which can be lost sight of thru negligence or deficient making plans.

So when the brand new function to have a participant—and it most effective applies to computer-generated characters, so no person that exists in the actual international—to your squad pop out as homosexual ends up in a brief information tale and a products bump for the participant and membership, we must be transparent in this level: that’s no longer an twist of fate. The designers made a option to depict this sort of match this fashion. That the sport doesn’t account for a scandal within the tabloids when this occurs can imply most effective certainly one of two issues; both the sheer ubiquity of British tabloids wasn’t sufficient to clue the builders in that this would possibly occur, or they purposefully determined not to come with it of their simulation.

Nor is in particular encouraging. Nor does it recommend that they actually idea thru this selection once they began designing and enforcing it. The tabloid scandal is simply the obvious end result of what would occur if a Premier League participant got here out as homosexual. There’s no accounting for the temper within the dressing room. Or how the enthusiasts would react. If the participant is a capped global, there doesn’t appear to be any attention for a way it might impact their probabilities of taking part in within the International Cup. (Indubitably this could range from nation to nation.)

The builders wouldn’t have needed to cross very a ways to discover related subject matter for his or her analysis within the design procedure for this selection. There’s the tabloids, as discussed. There’s additionally boards for enthusiasts of the sport itself. Like this Reddit thread, the place gamers accused the builders of “distinctive feature signalling” and “seeking to push an acceptance of homosexuality” on their gamers. Final yr the BBC polled soccer enthusiasts to look how an out homosexual participant could be gained in English soccer; 18% would have an issue with it, and eight% of enthusiasts would forestall staring at/following their workforce certainly one of their gamers got here out. Even reasonably harmless consciousness efforts just like the Rainbow Laces marketing campaign has a tendency to solicit a backlash that may be lovely sobering. In designing this selection, the builders made some core assumptions in regards to the present state of soccer tradition that isn’t even mirrored within the attitudes of their very own consumers.

They didn’t even trouble to seem into fresh English soccer historical past. In the event that they did, they might’ve examine Justin Fashanu, and what took place to him after he got here out as homosexual in 1990 whilst nonetheless an energetic participant. They may’ve learn in regards to the abuse and threats he gained over the following few years, and the way it affected his taking part in occupation. They may’ve examine how he in the end buckled underneath the tension and killed himself 8 years after his public disclosure.

And, positive, this isn’t the 1990s anymore. Issues have modified. The tradition has shifted. Possibly it’d be k now.

However simply because issues are higher, doesn’t imply they’re totally higher. Whilst the builders of Soccer Supervisor didn’t know the dangers homosexual footballers would possibly face within the present local weather, and whilst some enthusiasts of a extra liberal persuasion would possibly need to imagine they’d be embraced and authorised, there are sufficient individuals who know higher. Together with, it should be mentioned, queer footballers. Which is most definitely why homosexual males in English soccer are afraid to head public. Or why simply popping out to their teammates is a Large Deal. Or why they gained’t even divulge to the Soccer Affiliation, after receiving a call for participation to take action in a protected and confidential atmosphere. (That FA chairman Greg Clarke appeared so mystified that nobody took him up at the be offering could also be illustrative of the broader institutional blind spots surrounding the problems.) Make no mistake: there are homosexual males within the Premier League, they usually’re no longer going public. As a result of they know what would occur.

Even with a beneficiant studying, the builders of FM18 come throughout as painfully naive with the rollout of this selection. It’s no longer simply that failing to account for some essential variables makes for a deficient simulation. Soccer Supervisor is an indelible a part of the broader football tradition. Golf equipment use it as a scouting software. Imposing this selection within the sport used to be going to make information. If Soccer Supervisor is a devoted simulation of the football international, then it’s additionally a devoted simulation of the tradition surrounding this. By means of depicting a homosexual participant going public as slightly a blip at the radar, it constitutes a point of oversight this is naive at perfect and perilous at worst. It shall we other folks conceal within the fiction that bigotry is melting clear of society, like an getting older Polaroid digital camera. That is an assumption made in large part through individuals who don’t have first-hand revel in with that more or less bigotry, and who won’t ever actually face any penalties for his or her fallacious assumption. The backlash is for people.

There may be, after all, the chance that the builders purposefully made the effects of a participant popping out so small and benign. Believe what the sport would appear to be with this selection if the possible affects had been fleshed out. What if dressing room morale tanked? What if it was unimaginable to promote the participant as a result of nobody else sought after him on their workforce? What if he used to be bought to a membership in Saudi Arabia? What if he retired early? What if the participant dedicated suicide? Those are the forms of chances that may wish to be regarded as if this selection had been the mirror the level of complexity that Soccer Supervisor is understood for. It’s no longer unreasonable to imagine that the builders merely selected no longer account for all this as a result of how it might be gained through their consumers, who hang to a belief of well-liked social equality that doesn’t fit the lived truth of maximum LGBT other folks. Lovers of the sport adore it exactly as a result of its complexity, however it can be the case that there are limits. Possibly they only don’t need to be faced with the truth of being queer in a global— and in a occupation— this is actively antagonistic to queer other folks. And so the one more or less popping out that works within the simulated international of Soccer Supervisor is a frictionless abstraction.

The brand new function in FM18 and the discourse surrounding it’s in large part lacking a an important standpoint: homosexual other folks. Now not simply gamers, however enthusiasts and media commentators and membership staff and someone else hooked up with the game. For the entire need to reside on this planet of FM18, the place gamers popping out of the closet is actually no longer a large deal in any respect, there’s by no means any dialogue in regards to the prices queer gamers undergo once they do. If we, as a group of people that love soccer, can’t be to prevent and take into consideration how a participant who got here out publicly could be affected, then we’re no longer as able for it to occur as we’d love to suppose we’re.

And if we simply don’t care how it might impact them, then we wish to reckon with ourselves and admit that our need to have a participant pop out has not anything to do with them and the whole thing with our overwhelming wish to know. That we’re essentially motivated through a need for spectacle, in the similar manner that we crave the spectacle of North London Derbies and switch rumors and Jose Mourinho press meetings. As anyone who’s been outed to others towards my needs, believe me once I say that it’s a frightening and tough revel in. The one that did that rationalized what they did through announcing that the individual they instructed had a proper to grasp. You’d be stunned how not unusual this sentiment is.

Soccer shall be a significantly better position when queer gamers are ready to reside overtly and when they’re unequivocally supported through teammates, golf equipment, establishments, and enthusiasts. However is that the sector we’re seeking to construct once we inspire gamers to return out? Or will we simply need to gawk at anyone else’s non-public lifestyles? Until and till we will be able to meaningfully, truthfully grapple with that query, no participant of their proper thoughts will pop out publicly. And stunts like the brand new function in Soccer Supervisor will learn much less like an enchantment to our higher angels and extra like a merciless funny story.

Apply James on Twitter @thaumatropia. 

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