#option 3 i get the call back and i stay in an entirely different county away from him until he's shipped out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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freedom, books, flowers, and the moon.

A/N: Here is my entry in @approved-by-dentists ‘s follower celebration! Congrats again on 400, lovely! My prompt was Bookstore AU - so here we go! I’m worried that it doesn't entirely fit the prompt but there is a bookstore! So I'm halfway there! The book I mention is The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (I always recommend this book - read it, love it) and I had to use Yorkshire because Yorkshire is home to the Brontes and I live in Bronte country so I had to do it. Nevertheless I hope you all enjoy! As always, I love you all!

Summary: “With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?” - Oscar Wilde.

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of war, mentions of grief, mentions of book hangovers.

Word count: 4.1k

For many, the second wizarding war had been less than a year long. They had experienced less than a year of the insecurity, the anxiety and the dread that goes through everyone’s mind in time of war.

For Harry, the second wizarding war had been a lot longer. He had been battling the Dark Lord mind to mind for years, and after his defeat, he felt exhausted. He was not only drained physically – the final duel taking its toll on him. But he was drained mentally, for all of a sudden, the space in his mind that he had shared with the darkest wizard in a century, was free. Harry could no longer feel his presence within him; the dark part of him that festered like an open wound.

It was a good thing, that he could no longer feel him. Harry knew that. But still, a part of him lingered too long on the idea that this was all a sense of false security. He had been living on the adrenaline of the chase for too long, and now that it was leaving his body, Harry had no clue what he needed to do. What he wanted to do.

He had the option of becoming an auror, and his teachers had supported him with that career choice. But a small part of him wondered whether he would be damaging himself further by throwing himself back into the fray to round up the last remaining Death Eaters.

It’s Hermione who plants this idea of him going away in his head. She has watched him battle internally with the different possible paths of his future; she had watch him argue and argue with his mind until he still had no answer.

Hermione tells him one night, over tea at the Burrow, “Harry, why don’t you get away for a while?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean go somewhere. Take some time away to heal; to come to terms with the last few years of your life. We’ve spent so long on the move, always having to be aware, that you haven’t had the time to process your emotions for everything.”

“Where would I go?” He whispers, fear creeping into his voice.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione says softly, “Let’s look at a map.” With a flick of her wand, a map of the British Isles lays itself out in front of them. “Where would you fancy?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry confesses, eyes pouring over the details of the maps – taking in the numerous counties.

“Okay. Close your eyes and point on the count of three.” Hermione states, “Are you ready?”

Harry closes his eyes, shuffling forward on the chair, “I’m ready.”

“3…2…1.” Hermione counts, and Harry’s finger circles the map once before landing.

Harry refuses to open his eyes. He’s in disbelief that he’s let himself decide his future on a three, two, one countdown. He’s been impulsive before but now he’s wary.

He doesn’t want to look. “Where am I going then?”

He can hear Hermione shuffle to look at where his finger has landed; her silence giving nothing away.

“Hermione?” He asks, slight panic setting in.

“Harry, take a look.”

Harry opens his eyes, blinking quickly before focusing on the map and his finger.

His finger points to a small village in Yorkshire. A place he had never been to.

Harry falls back into the chair with a sigh, “I guess that’s where I’m going.”

--------------------------

Spring:

Harry moves in the spring.

He spends the final weeks of winter with the Weasleys being stopped at all times of the day to be told why he shouldn’t be doing this; that he could heal just as well in the wizarding world.

He loves their attempts to get him to stay, but they don’t entirely understand why he needs to go.

He arrives in the small Yorkshire village on a bright day in March; blossoms have started to bloom on the trees and in a week, they would be covered, filling their air with their sweet and floral scent. His misses everyone strongly; feeling it keenly within his chest, but he knows how desperately needed to get away.

A month into his arrival at the small village in the moors, Harry feels he has settled very well into country life. He’s found his routine and he feels as if he’s beginning to heal from the trauma of the war and before. The clean, country air clears his lungs and his daily walks through the village has mind numb enough and his body tired enough that he can sleep through most of the night without waking once from a nightmare.

He still struggles; his still has those moments where he can’t be certain the war has finished and he’s safe but the longer he spends in the village, the less they happen.

A month into his arrival at the small village, Harry realises that he needs to thank Hermione for what she did for him that night at the Burrow. She saw his suffering and gave him a solution.

Walking through the green, he spies the small bookshop nestled on the corner of a small side street. If there was anything on this planet that Hermione loved more than Ron, it was a book.

Harry pauses for an instant outside the door to take in the window display. Both windows, and even the door window, have been painted with a cherry blossom display to mark the true entrance into spring. The blossoms fall from the tree in swirls of pinks and red, falling over the books perched on the windowsill inside – the personal recommendations for the season.

The bell above the door chimes as Harry enters the shop and he is immediately overwhelmed with the smell of old books, worn leather, and what he think is lavender. It is comforting though. He had never been much of a reader other than Quidditch strategy manuals, but something about this little shop has him feeling at home among the countless shelves piled high with books. He takes a few steps further into the shop, eyes running over title after title on multiple paperbacks and hardbacks.

Harry runs his fingers over the spines of the leather-bound volumes but stops when he realises that he hasn’t any idea of the type of book Hermione enjoys to read. She had textbooks in her hands so often at Hogwarts, but Harry can’t recall the last time he had seen her with a fiction book open in her lap.

He frowns, glaring at the books.

“Can I help you?” A lilting voice sounds from behind the stacks, “You look to be in a bad mood with my books, and that can’t possibly be right.”

“This is your shop?”

“For the last year it has been, before that I used to just work weekends.”

“It’s very homely.” Harry compliments.

You chuckle, “It’s overstocked but it adds charm and character, plus the more books there are, the stronger the old book smell and who can resist that! So stranger, how can I help you?”

Harry blushes slightly, “My name is Harry, you can call me Harry. I can’t decide what to buy for a friend.”

You come out from behind the shelves, and Harry’s eyes rake over you – taking in the nose piercing and the small tattoos peeking out of the sleeves of your thin sweater.

“Well Harry, I’m (Y/N). What does your friend like to read?”

“I don’t really know; I only ever saw her read textbooks at school to keep her grades up.”

You smile understandingly; indecision was something you encountered often in your shop, “Alright, let’s see what I can drum up. Would you like to follow me?”

Harry nods in answer but you don’t see. You’ve already turned away from him making your way through the complicated maze of shelves. Harry follows blindly, keeping his eyes on the back of your head.

You stop by a shelf that isn’t as occupied as the others. In fact, compared to the other shelves, this one is empty of books. Only a few books stand on the shelf, wide gaps between them.

Your eyes run over their spines; head tilted slightly; you think before pulling a book from its space. “I think this one will do,” you murmur, holding the book out for Harry to take.

“Agnes Grey?” He reads from the front cover.

“You’re in Bronte country, you have to know that right?”

“I’ve never heard of them,” He admits to which you gasp, holding a hand to your chest.

“I am hurt, good sir. You’ll have to buy this book for your friend now.”

Harry smiles, “I think I might. If she has read anything by the Bronte’s, I’m not to know.”

“It’s a rare edition as well. There’s only around a fifty or so copies left so I’m making sure it’s going to good home.”

“It definitely is. My friend worships books.”

You lead Harry to the till where the book is rang through and paid for. “Let me know what she thinks? She must be very special for you to buy this.”

Harry takes the book with a smile, “I’ll be back to let you know.”

---------------------------

Summer:

Spring bleeds into summer, and the floral scent from spring has turned into something headier – pulling Harry out bed earlier, keeping him outside for longer. Each day he walks past your shop, waving back at you as you wave to him from your seat by the till. Harry returns to your shop when he received Hermione’s owl thanking him for his gift and asking where he found such a rare edition.

Harry was more than happy to pass on Hermione’s compliments to you, enjoying the way you light up at his friend’s words.

“What about you? Do you read?” You ask him.

Harry shakes his head. At the look on your face, Harry suddenly wishes he had read every single book available to him and Hogwarts. “You’ll have to recommend something to me.” He suggests.

You disappear between the stacks at his words, reading title after title before finding one you think he would like.

You give a shout of success when you find the book you were looking for. You refuse to show Harry the title as you place it gently into a paper bag.

“I know you’ll like this, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“Which is?” Harry replies, curiosity lacing his tone.

“You have to promise me to come back and tell me if you enjoyed it.”

“I promise.” Harry replies, too fast… much too fast, but it doesn’t seem like you mind.

You smile at him, “I’ll see you soon, hopefully.”

Harry reaches for his wallet, having every intention on paying you but your hand on his arm has him freezing, “No payment needed,” You state firmly, “Just come back and tell me what you think.”

Harry thanks you, which you wave away, before leaving. He hightails it back to his home where he makes himself a pot of coffee and sits down at his kitchen table with your brown paper bag in front of him. He feels nervous as he opens the bag, hands wrapping around a thick paperback.

The book cover is predominantly black, but there are two white figures on the front surrounded by objects found in a circus. Harry take a sip of his coffee before opening to the first page: ‘The circus arrives without warning.’

He doesn’t move for the rest of the day; he remains sat at his kitchen table in awe of the book in front of him. He finishes the coffee but doesn’t get up to make another post for fear of being pulled away from the story so soon. Harry feels as if the author herself has been in contact with magic and understands the base wonder that comes with it. His eyes pour over the pages, committing to memory the love story and the saga of The Night Circus.

He closes the book hours later, feeling both bereft and satisfied at the end.

For a long time, Harry stares at the book wondering how a collection of pages bound in black and white could hold him so tightly to the fictional world.

He goes to bed filled with happiness but also empty from the fact that he had finished it so soon. Thoughts of the books have him falling into a sleep wherein he doesn’t wake screaming from nightmares, but rather dreams of striped monochromatic circus tents and caramel popcorn.

Harry paces his living room until it’s a suitable time to run to your bookshop. The moment the clock strikes nine, he’s out the door, putting on his jacket as he runs. He holds the book in his hands as if it’s made of glass; as if one wrong move, and the dream world he entered from the first page, will be shattered.

The relief Harry feels when he sees your shop light on spurs him faster. He bustles in through the door, giving you a fright. “Harry!”

“What is this book?” He practically shouts, holding the cover up for you to see.

You grin widely, “So you finished it?”

“I didn’t move until I had!” He cries.

“So you enjoyed it then?”

“I loved it. I’ve never read a book like this before.”

“I knew you would. The minute I saw the cover I knew you would enjoy the book.”

“I just couldn’t put it down.”

You nod, knowing that exact feeling so well it was second nature, “Have I brought you to the dark side then, Harry?”

Harry grins toothily, “I don’t know. What else do you have?”

He visits your shop every day after that, bringing you lunch and a takeaway cup of tea. You admitted to him early on in your friendship that you got so caught up in the stacks of books that you often forgot to eat until it was closing time and you were ravenous, so Harry makes it his mission to bring you lunch.

He had never been much of a cook; had never needed to with the house-elves at Hogwarts but for you, he could scrape together a couple of sandwiches and a flask of tea.

Your bookshop gets more traffic through summer due to the tourist season – people come from far and wide to walk the moors and step where the Bronte sisters once did, each imagining their own Heathcliff or Mr. Rochester. Harry hasn’t seen you happier than when you recommend a book to a customer knowing that it is the right fit. You greet every customer with a smile and give them personalised recommendations if they’re struggling with their choice.

The window display changes too. A summer scene now covers the windows and door; bright colours depict a summer sunset at the beach whilst the books recommended this season are lovingly placed on the windowsill.

Summer also brings with it the change in your relationship. A close friendship develops between the two of you; you even going so far to invite Harry over to your flat above the bookshop. Harry’s nervous as he enters your home, but soon falls in love with it.

Pressed, dried flowers decorate the walls in frames. They litter the walls in their varying sizes. Harry finds himself wandering over to them, checking if his seven years of Herbology was to fail him. Irises, rose petals, lavender – he can identify those easily. However, there are some that he feels certain that Professor Sprout or Neville Longbottom wouldn’t be able to identify.

You notice him studying your walls, “It’s a hobby of mine along with the books.”

“It’s wonderful.”

“Thank you,” You murmur, shyly, “My grandmother taught me; she loved the quote by Oscar Wilde.”

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a disadvantage.”

“’With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy?’ She lived by this quote. It’s their bookshop below us, you see, and she taught me how to press flowers and she would always find something romantic to say about the moon. My grandmother was a free spirit that even my grandfather could not tame, but why would you want to?”

“She sounds like an incredible woman.”

“She was, I miss her.”

“She’d be proud of how you’re running the shop.”

“Thank you, Harry. Now would you like a drink? I have coffee, tea, hot chocolate…”

“I’ll have a coffee please.” Harry says, sitting down on the aged couch. Your flat is a collision of personalities; he can clearly see your grandparents influence among your own decoration and it creates something entirely unique.

You come back into living room with two mugs of coffee in either hand. You give one to harry before sitting next to him. He smiles at you in thanks before asking, “What are you reading currently?”

From the way your eyes light up as you talk about your current read along with your love for your shop, Harry begins to feel himself slowly fall in love with you.

He can feel the change in the air after that night. His feelings for you are well established within him. You help him feel hope for the future; for a better world – and he wants to share that world with you. but he feels the pressure of his secret weighing down on him.

He hasn’t told you out of fear; he can’t gauge your reaction to finding out he’s a wizard and classed as a war-hero. He’s worried to tell you for the panic that it could potentially ruin the budding relationship between you.

Harry confesses under candlelight. A summer storm knocked out the power, so he helps you light your large collection of candles before lying on the floor of your flat next to you.

There’s something pure about the atmosphere, with being surrounded by tens of candles that Harry feels he needs absolution from keeping this from you for so long. He whispers his confession; tells you everything. From his birth until now. He hopes and hopes for repentance among the flickering flames of the candles.

You’re silent through the exchange; letting Harry say his piece. Giving him the chance to unload the weight of the world upon his shoulders as if he were mighty Atlas.

In the end, what Harry says makes no difference to you. You had fallen in love with him over the short time you had known him, and what he confesses doesn’t affect your feelings in any shape of form. If anything, they make them stronger for it shows how much Harry must trust you to tell you something so deep and personal.

You turn onto your side once Harry has fallen silent and is waiting for your reply. You brush a hand across his forehead, pushing his hair back, looking at the faded pink scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. “You have been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Harry closes his eyes at the feel of your hand running through his hair. He hasn’t felt like this for so long; he cannot remember the last time he had felt this relaxed and safe at the same time. He whispers this to you, “I haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

“I’m glad I make you feel safe.”

Harry turns onto his side, running a finger down the length of your face. He doesn’t miss how you shiver at his touch. He leans in slightly, intoxicated by your very presence but he pulls away at the last possible moment to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Your free hand pulls him in by his shirt collar, “I’d thought you’d never ask,” You laugh before pressing your lips to his.

In the few months that he has known you, he has fallen head over heels for you. You help to calm the figurative storm that rages within him. In the little flat above the bookshop he has come to adore, he whispers that he loves you.

----------------------------

Autumn:

Summer gives way to autumn and the leaves begin to fall from the trees in earnest. The world returns to orange brown. Your relationship with Harry goes from strength to strength; you’re there to help with the nightmares and the panic that paralyses him now and then. It starts slow, using the bookshop as common ground to get to know each other better.

You decorate the display windows of the bookshop, bringing in Harry to help, though he would have helped you whether you had asked him or not. “Tell me again why we’re painting the windows?” he asks.

You flick a clean paintbrush at him, “Because Harry, it is autumn and autumn means one thing: Halloween. I do it every season; spring, summer, autumn and winter.”

Harry frowns, focusing his attention on painting the outline of a pumpkin, “I’ve never celebrated Halloween.”

“You haven’t? Why?”

“My parents were killed on Halloween, and my aunt and uncle never took me trick or treating anyway.”

You step down from the ladder, placing the paint pot to one side and wiping your hands on your apron. Your hand pulls his away from the window, focusing his attention on you. “I didn’t know, Harry, I’m sorry.” You murmur, wrapping him in a hug.

“You weren’t to know,” He sighs, hugging you tightly back.

You draw back slightly, still not letting him go, “How about this: we spend the day of Halloween mourning your parents, and we spend the evening eating ourselves sick on chocolate and sweets?”

“You’d spend the day with me?”

“I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

So Harry spends his Halloween with you.

He spends his morning with you in the bookshop, stocking the shelves and reminiscing. You asked him if it would be too painful for him to talk about his parents, but he reassured you that his memories are few and far between so all he truly knows is what he has been told. For the rest of the day, he wanders between the bookshelves, telling you the stories of the Marauders.

“It would make a good book,” You gasp, breathless from laughter as Harry finishes his latest story.

“Do you think?”

“I think that if it was a book, I would definitely read it.”

Harry thinks over your words for a while. He wouldn’t ever write the book; his memories of his family are too precious for him to share with the world but he’s happy to share them all with you. As he dawdles in the shop, inhaling the comforting smell of worn leather and lavender, he thinks that he has never been more grateful for a bookshop in all his life. He feels almost whole again; your shop and you are helping to heal the ever-shrinking hole in his heart.

In the evening, he presses chocolatey kisses to your lips, interrupting you reading the same book that had started this all those months ago. You laugh into his mouth, the book falling to the side as you adjust your positions. You taste like Halloween sweets and he’s entirely addicted to it.

Harry wakes on the first of November with a clearer sense of the path he wants his life to travel down. As he watches you sleep, he knows that it involves books and you – the freedom you offer. Harry watches the sun rise across your face with a new found sense of purpose; he wants to stay here, and he wants to stay with you. He’s lived in this Yorkshire village for months, but he knows now where he wants to plant his roots.

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Winter:

Winter brings with it ice and snow, but it also brings with the year anniversary of his decision to move to the sleepy Yorkshire village.

Hermione and Ron begin to visit often; having not done so earlier to give Harry the chance to heal on his own. Harry introduces them to you on their second visit; you were full of nerves, but they quickly welcomed you into their group.

Hermione and Ron visit more now; Hermione having set up a book exchange with you.

The display windows have been painted to depict a winter scene; a log cabin with smoke, evergreen trees covered in lights. It looks like a perfect piece of heaven. Little did those who admired the window scene know, that his little piece of heaven involved this small corner bookshop opened each morning with love.

The time he spends in your bookshop has only increased; he tries to spend every waking moment with you, choosing to spend the nights with you in your flat above the shop.

Harry watches you as you help customers or as you dawdle aimlessly through the aisles in a moment of quiet. Your feet pad quietly on the carpeted floor and Harry can hear you hum the tune of a song so often played on the radio.

Harry has never really been a fan of books, but he is a fan of you. And he could watch you in your bookshop all day long.

***************

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years ago

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‘MY GOOD WIFE’ v ‘MY FAVORITE HUSBAND’

June 23, 1949

"My Good Wife," an added starter on KNBC, 6:30 p.m. PST Fridays, is another comedy about a young married couple, as if we needed another one. I must admit this one is a little different. This married couple, Steve and Kay Emerson, are not nearly so fast with a wisecrack as, say, Lucille Ball and her husband on "My Favorite Husband," 9:00 p.m. PST the same night on KCBS. Great night for matrimony, Fridays, and if those two programs don't provide enough for you, tune in Dorothy Dix at 1:45 pm. (not broadcast in west). She'll tell you how to win back an erring husband.

I haven't yet made up my mind whether the Emerson's ineptness at repartee is deliberate - after all, not every young wife talks like Groucho Marx - or whether the script writer isn't very good at it either. Anyhow, whether by accident or design, the Emersons are a very restful young couple, possibly a little too restful to get anywhere in the entertainment world. In radio, they're a real novelty.

As a wife Arlene Francis who plays Kay Emerson, wins out on points over Lucille Ball In other regards - talent and looks, for example - Miss Ball is way out front. But how long could you live with a girl who says: "Oh, we don't miss television. I climb in the Bendix and sing and George looks at me through the little window." Imagine having a girl around the house who said things like that before breakfast. It'd curdle the milk.

STARTS OFF FAST

“My Good Wife" started out at a gallop two weeks ago, NBC deciding to set the stage and get everything out of the way all at once. The first program resembled one at those synopses of previous in installments in the popular magazines. Steve met Kay, quarreled with her, married her, taught her how to drive, learned he was about to become a father, and became one - all in 15 minutes. One minute later, the dialogue went like this:

"It doesn't seem like we've been married 12 years."

"We've been married 10 years."

"Well, that's why it doesn't seem like 12."

That, incidentally, Is a little brighter than the conversation around the Emerson household generally gets.

On the second show of the series, the pace settled down to a walk. During the first few minutes the Emersons and their neighbors lay lazily on the grass, not even talking very much. This may be taking realism too far. I mean there ought to be some crickets chirping or something. Things quickened a bit later when Mrs. Emerson decided she was going to help her husband out with his law practice and, of course, messed things up.

YALE, NO LESS

The Emersons are quite upper middlebrow as radio's young married folk go. He went to Yale, for heaven's sake, and she not only went to Vassar but led the daisy chain or whatever they do with that daisy chain. What is this - counter revolution? Oh, yes, they live in Larchmont up to their ears in other upper middlebrows. I don't know what else to tell you about the Emersons except they sound like a nice young couple to have over for a drink some time but conceivably a little mild to entertain you much on the air.

My favorite young married couple is still Ozzie and Harriet Nelson - I put Goodman and Jane Ace off in another category entirely - and while we're chatting about this sort of thing, I ought to point out Ricky and David Nelson, Ozzie and Harriet's children, are now playing themselves on that program which solves a lot of problems. I have a spy in the Nelson household, named - in case any congressional ears are pricking - Harriet Nelson, nee Harriet Hilliard, and she is not now and has never been a Communist nor worked on the atom bomb nor designed the B-36.

Anyhow, my spy informed the Nelsons had a little trouble with the kids. The real Ricky and David I listened to the radio Ricky and David and discovered them doing things they weren't allowed to do or wouldn't do voluntarily if they were allowed. Being children, they got confused over their own identities. Well now the real Ricky and David are the radio Ricky and David and the split personalities in the kids has been averted. You run into a lot of funny problems in radio.

# # #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

It seems pretty clear that NBC was counter-programming CBS’s “My Favorite Husband”. Not only are the names very similar, they were scheduled on the same night, as critic Crosby points out.

The episode of “My Favorite Husband” described above might apply to any domestic sitcom, but was actually titled “Budget - Mr. Atterbury” broadcast June 3, 1949. However, this newspaper is still calling Lucille Ball’s character Liz Cugat, when her name had changed to Liz Cooper in January 1949, to avoid comparison with the well-known bandleader (no, not Desi Arnaz).

Counter-programming by NBC would not stop on radio. When “I Love Lucy” was a juggernaut hit for CBS TV, NBC created a similar show titled “I Married Joan” for star Joan Davis. It was billed as “The adventures of the scatterbrained wife of a respected city judge.” Substitute “bandleader” for “Judge” (played by Jim Backus) - and you’ve got “I Love Lucy.” Like Ball, Davis was a film star of the ‘30s and ‘40s getting aboard the TV bandwagon. Like Lucy, Joan wanted to be in showbusiness. Many of the same situations that Lucy got into, Joan did too. The series even featured a few “I Love Lucy” refugees: Jerry Hausner, Elvia Allman, Bob Jellison, Margie Liszt, Shirley Mitchell, Ross Elliott, and many others. "Lucy” and “Joan” even employed the same director in each show's first season, Marc Daniels. "Joan” lasted three seasons, from 1952 to 1955 and is all but forgotten today.

Kay Emerson was not the first domestic radio role for Arlene Francis. In 1940, she took over the role of Betty on “Betty and Bob”, which had been the first successful soap opera. She was one of the hosts of the quiz show “What’s My Name?” beginning in 1938. The show was seen as a model for TV’s “What’s My Line?” which premiered in 1950. Francis would stay with the show for its entire run, including six mystery guest appearances by Lucille Ball.

The husband to “My Good Wife” was played by John Conte. From 1944 to 1946 he was married to Marilyn Maxwell (1944-46) who would later appear with Lucille Ball in the 1963 film Critic’s Choice. He had also been seen with Ball (and Maxwell) in As Thousands Cheer (1943). In 1960 he would work for Desilu in an episode of “The Untouchables” (1960).

Unlike “My Favorite Husband’s” mythical mid-Western Sheridan Falls, the Emerson’s livid in the real New York suburb of Larchmont, an affluent village located within the Town of Mamaroneck in Westchester County, New York, approximately 18 miles northeast of Midtown Manhattan. Nearby was the town of New Rochelle, whose most famous fictional resident was Rob Petrie on “The Dick Van Dyke Show” (filmed at Desilu Studios). Danfield, New York, another fictional town in the area, was the residence of Lucy Carmichael and Vivian Bagley for the first three seasons of “The Lucy Show.”

“My Good Wife” began airing in June 1949, and by April 1950 was nowhere to be found. In October 1949, Billboard reported on a new NBC Gallup Poll that placed the show dead last - with 32 stations voting it poor and only 8 saying it was excellent. The future of “Wife” was bleak. The sitcom was cancelled after 18 weeks to make room for the new Jimmy Durante show. Meanwhile, Ball’s “Husband” (on CBS), thrived. Coincidentally, the show was initially a replacement for Red Skelton’s show. Skelton and Durante had both worked with Ball on films.

Crosby’s quote from “My Favorite Husband”

"Oh, we don't miss television. I climb in the Bendix and sing and George looks at me through the little window."

was spoken by Lucille Ball in the episode titled “Television” on June 17, 1949. A Bendix is a brand of front-loading washing machine. The porthole-like window was similar to the size screen of early television sets.

Crosby’s observation that Liz talks like Groucho Marx is attributable to the show’s writers Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and Jess Oppenheimer. And let’s not forget that Lucille Ball acted opposite Groucho Marx in Room Service (1938)!

After making the obvious comparison to “My Favorite Husband,” Crosby lets readers know that neither “Husband” nor “Wife” will ever displace “The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriett” in his domestic dome. The show launched October 8, 1944 and a total 402 radio episodes were produced. When it was optioned for television, it was upstart network ABC that made the sweetest deal to the Nelsons.

As Crosby alludes to, their real-life sons, David and Ricky, did not join the cast until the radio show's fifth year. The two boys were played by professional actors prior to their joining because both were too young to perform. Crosby’s allegations of possible identity crisis due to watching their parents with other sons on television, might easily apply to “I Love Lucy”, where the real-life Desi Arnaz often lived in the shadow of the young actors playing Little Ricky on television. Mrs. Ricardo and Mrs. Arnaz giving birth to both boys on the same day only added to the confusion - one that still lingers today.

Crosby declines to compare the aforementioned shows with the popular Goodman and Jane Ace. The real-life marrieds had a show titled “Easy Aces” Goodman Ace cast himself as a harried real estate salesman and the exasperated but loving husband of the scatterbrained, malaprop-prone Jane ("Time wounds all heels"). “Easy Aces” became a long-running serial comedy (1930–1945) but did not make a graceful transition to television, lasting only a few months on the ill-fated DuMont Network. Coincidentally, Martin Gabel, who married Arlene Francis in 1946, had a recurring role on “Easy Aces” during the 1930s.

In a more sarcastic shout-out, Crosby mentions capping off this slew of domestic dithering by listening to Dorothy Dix. Author Elizabeth Meriwether Gilmer (1861-1951) was widely known by the pen name Dorothy Dix. As the forerunner of today’s popular advice columnists, Dix was America’s highest paid and most widely read female journalist at the time of her death. Her advice on marriage was syndicated in newspapers around the world with an estimated audience of 60 million readers. Naturally, radio was not neglected, getting their Dix fix when her column took to the airwaves. Due to Lucy’s insistence on interfering in the Mertz’s personal affairs, Ricky compares Lucy to Dorothy Dix in “Fred and Ethel Fight” (ILL S1;E22) on March 10, 1952.

We haven’t yet mentioned this 1940 gem, but we’ll save that for another time!

#My Good Wife #Arlene Francis #John Conte #My Favorite Husband #Lucille Ball #radio #1949 #I Married Joan #John Crosby #Dorothy Dix #Ozzie and Harriett #Easy Aces #Groucho Marx #Desi Arnaz Jr.#Larchmont NY

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gerberbabey · 4 years ago

Text

teenagers | platonic!pogues

To celebrate reaching 100 followers I meant to post my first request but i lagged Shoutout to that anon!

Request: fem!reader is from obx BUT shes not the usual denim shorts with a cute tank top and minimal makeup yanno shes a little more alt tiktok girl style/euphoria style and shes SUPER sassy and badass. can the scenario be: at a party and stands up to rafe for kie and its her meeting the pogues? so jus the pogues x platonic!reader.

a/n: to the person that sent the request, i forgot to say in the ask: I love you and i appreciate you. hope you love this ❤️ also the hardest part about this was picking out the outfit 💀

masterlist

warnings: cussing, rafe’s a dickhead, underaged drinking, there is talk of sex no actual sex tho sorry, terrible writing (idk who editing is)

♫ Teenagers by My Chemical Romance ♫

As someone who’s lived her entire life on an island, people found it rather odd that you weren’t much of an “island” person. Despite being born and raised in Kildare County, in the Outer Banks, aka “Paradise on Earth”, there was so much about you that didn’t conform to the same lifestyle as those around you. You tended to step away from doing ocean related activities, stood out specifically in the way you presented yourself, and more recently spent more of your time on the mainland than the islands now that school was out for the summer.

“Do you wanna...go...to the....” Sarah trailed off as she stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceilings. Any idea she had involved dressing down into swim wear and going out to the beach or just ocean in general. And she knew you would turn it down despite being grounded and therefore stuck on the island.

When you’d called her and told her that you were bored and in turn needed her company and entertainment, she didn’t really expect you to tell her that your parents had prohibited you from taking the ferry out to the mainland for the next month.

“Y’know, what’d you even do? To get grounded?” Sarah questioned as she lay on your bed while music played from the vintage record player your parents had copped for you a few years back.

“Me and my friends got caught trespassing,” you mumbled, “It was really stupid.”

“You got caught trespassing?” Sarah scoffed.

“Yeah and the only reason we go caught in the first place was because Andy-you remember Andy?” Sarah nodded her head despite the fact that she didn’t now who you were talking about, “Got super high off an indica strain and fell asleep! Lin and Nico got away cus they left me and TK to take care of him! Andy’s fucking huge!”

“Wha-Ok, why were you even trespassing?”

“Cus...we wanted to skate,” you explained and you rolled your eyes Sarah raised her brows at you.

“(Y/N), you got arrested because you wanted to skate?!”

“No, ok I almost got arrested because Andy’s a big motherfucker!” you retorted and Sarah threw her hands up in exasperation.

It was ridiculous but it made sense. Not only were you and your mainland friends kind of reckless, it made sense that your parents grounded you to the island. Sure they were actually extremely lax and reasonable (If Sarah were to describe your parents she would call them Hippies. Hippies straight out of the 60s.)They were understanding of who you were as a person and loved you for it but always warned you that they drew the line at two things and those things were jail time and life threatening injuries.

Sometimes she wondered how the two of you were friends, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. You were one of the few people who didn’t make her feel trapped in the relationship you had. You didn’t have overbearing expectations for her and didn’t base her image off of the one she presented to the public. You were friends with her because of who she was rather than who she seemed to be.

“Ok well, your parents aren’t forcing you to stay home so what do you wanna do?” Sarahh questioned and you sighed.

“I don’t know...I...I literally don’t even do anything on this island.”

Sarah glanced at you and watched as you looked at yourself in your mirror. You’d been going through your closet and had already tried on 6 different outfits since she’d gotten there.

“I heard there’s gonna be a kegger on the boneyard?” Sarah brought up and you paused, looking at her through the mirror. Sarah raised her brows, “We could go to the kegger, drink, smoke, and have fun...or we could stay here...bored...while you try on more outfits,” Sarah tried to make the second option less appealing but considering you were...well, you, you only smiled at her.

“Will you tell me how pretty I look?” you fluttered your eyelashes and Sarah scoffed out a laugh as she grabbed a shirt from the pile of clothes on your bed and bundled it up so she could throw it at you.

“(Y/N) I sat here for 2 hours and watched you do your make up. We’re going to the kegger,” she finalized, “You might as well enjoy yourself while your stuck on the island.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll enjoy myself,” you scoffed, tossing the shirt aside.

"Seriously why don’t you give anyone on this island-aside from me-a chance?” Sarah gave you a hopeful smile.

“Because your brother and his friends wear polos, khaki shorts, and moccasins,” you gave her a mocking smile back and Sarah shrugged as the two of you laughed. You could never understand why Kook boys decided to dress the way they did. Sure the clothes they wore were brand clothing and ridiculously expensive, but that didn’t mean they necessarily looked good.

“Ok, y’know what, I’ll call Topper and we could head out right now. Is that what you wanna wear-”

“Ugh, Topper Thornton? Are you talking to him now?” you groaned and Sarah gave you a look.

“What? He’s cute!” Sarah defended and you rolled your eyes.

“I just don’t trust it. For whatever reason, every cute guy on this island has daddy issues,” you undid the belt around your waist and slipped the large button up shirt off your shoulders, leaving yourself standing in your underwear and jewelry as you pointed to Sarah to emphasize your point.

“Well Topper obviously does not have daddy issues.”

“Yeah because he has mommy issues,” you snorted and Sarah couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her lips.

“That’s not funny (Y/N)!” she chastised though she was giggling behind her hand.

“Uh, yeah it is,” you shot back and you looked around you at the pile of clothes spread across the floor. You picked up some clothes and too your time to put them on (just to irritate Sarah a little) before you turned to the mirror and looked over your outfit and how it matched with your make up.

“Are you good?” Sarah asked as she slipped her sandals onto her feet. You tilted your head and reached up to muss up your hair a little before nodding.

“Yeah ok,” you answered before you went over to turn off your record player. You stepped over the clothes you’d thrown around the room as you followed after Sarah, making sure to turn your lights off as you went.

“That’s Topper’s car,” Sarah pointed out once you turned around from locking your front door (your parents had banned you from the mainland but that didn’t mean they weren’t allowed to go live their lives) and you tried not to cringe as you noticed that Rafe and Kelce were also in the car.

“Wow, the whole frats here,” you mumbled as Sarah opened the door and let you slide in first.

“Hey (Y/N),” Kelce greeted kindly and you smiled at him, scooting a bit closer so that Sarah could fit in.

“Hi,” you greeted. Kelce was alright. He didn’t really do much aside from follow around Rafe and Topper but outside of that he wasn’t the worst. You thought that maybe if he didn’t feel the need to follow those two around you would get along with him pretty easily.

“Hey,” Topper greeted you awkwardly from the rearview mirror, before he grinned at Sarah. You rolled your eyes even as Sarah nudged at your ribs.

“(Y/N),” Rafe drawled and you tilted your head to the side as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Rafe,” you replied pointedly.

There was an awkward, tense silence in the car before Topper cleared his throat.

“Let’s go?” he questioned and all of you mumbled back some type of confirmation.

By the time you’d gotten to the Boneyard you were overheated in Topper’s car. You’d shrugged off your cardigan, ignoring Rafe’s glance back at you as you continued to mumble to Sarah about something. Topper pulled up to the side of the road, carefully parking his car amongst the billions of other cars that found themselves at the Boneyard.

“I’m literally sweating so much right now,” you whined as you stumbled out of the car, “Why is it so hot in your car Topper?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have worn that sweater,” Topper pointed out and you gave him a look.

“Don’t knock my outfit just cus I know how to dress myself,” you scoffed before you headed off, tugging Sarah along with you. The three boys followed after you, talking between themselves. A few people greeted your lot as you made your way into the heart of the Boneyard, where the kegger was being held. There was a bonfire lit and noise all around. You and Sarah found yourselves mixing in with a group of Tourons, talking about something or another. Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were standing only a few feet away with some of their usual Kook friends.

“Should we get a drink?” you asked Sarah as you settled into the atmosphere and Sarah took a deep breath before she looked over to the keg. In the center of the beach party was usually John B and his usual crew of JJ, Pope, and Kie. The keg was currently being manned by Kie Carrera herself, her 3 friends out of sight. Sarah pursed her lips and shook her head.

“I don’t really wanna head over there,” she told you and you raised a brow.

“You’re gonna drag me to this kegger and....not go to the keg...because of a girl you kind of had beef with your freshman year?”

“(Y/N),” Sarah said firmly and you rolled your eyes.

“Ok I’ll go get us drinks,” you put your arms up and Sarah opened her mouth to protest but you only waved her off as you made your way through the beach. The sand was a little firmer around the Boneyard so you didn’t have to worry that much about your shoes or your ankles giving out on you.

You stepped into where you figured people were lining up to be handed drinks and smoothed out your outfit, ignoring the looks being shot your way. You were used to those at this point.

“Do you always walk off by yourself?”

You tried not to roll your eyes into the back of your head as Rafe stepped up beside you, following the motion of the haphazard line to get closer to the keg.

“Do you always have to bother me?” you replied and Rafe shook his head.

“Yeah I don’t know what your problem with me is (Y/N) but-”

“But?” You cut off Rafe, staring up at him as he clenched his jaw in irritation, “We don’t need to get along Rafe. I’d limit all unnecessary interaction with you if I could, but you just...keep following me around.”

Rafe stayed quiet as you turned away and stepped forward.

“Hey, can I get two?” you requested and the girl manning the keg, Kie, laughed as she filled up a red solo cup.

“Geez up for a wild night?” she looked up, half way to handing you your first cup, and stopped short as she noticed who she was talking to.

“More like an ok night,” you told her taking the cup from her and ignoring the look of shock on her face.

“Oh uh...yeah...I totally get you,” she laughed awkwardly and picked up another red solo cup to fill. You rolled your eyes while she wasn’t looking. You didn’t wanna be caught up in whatever beef these two girls had. You were friends with Sarah sure but it’s not like what Kie had allegedly done was that huge of a deal. Not like anyone had actually gotten arrested (Literally. The cops had arrived and had only asked for the noise level to go down). And you knew Kie. She and Sarah had been best friends at the Kook academy your freshman year and you had been acquaintances with both of them. And though their relationship broke abruptly, and Sarah had begun getting closer to you, you didn’t understand the need to ostracize Kie for something that you weren’t sure she even did.

“Uh so how’s that going so far?” Kie questioned glancing at you and you shrugged.

“I mean I’ve been here for a,” you checked your bare wrist, “solid 20 minutes at least and I’m not arrested or dead so it’s alright.”

“For you, 20 minutes seems pretty good,” Kie joked and she paused unsure if she could even joke with you like this. It was common knowledge that you tended to avoid the Outer Banks and it’s residents as much as you could once no longer tied down to school. Yet as you only chuckled and agreed, Kie smiled, tucking some lose hair behind her ear, “I like your outfit by the way. Not very beach practical, but still very cute.”

“Am I ever beach practical,” you responded and Kie laughed as she nodded in agreement.

“That’s true.”

As Kie reached out to hand you your second cup, a larger hand snatched it up. The lighthearted atmosphere immediately dropped to a tense one as the two of you looked up in unison.

“Oh shit thanks Kiara,” Rafe laughed and you and Kie both shot him a glare.

“Don’t call me Kiara,” Kie hissed and Rafe only shrugged, smirking smugly.

“I think I’ll call a rat whatever I want,” he spit and Kie looked down at the sand in dejection as you frowned at Rafe.

“What the fuck Rafe, are you serious?”

“Hey, I just call out it how it is,” Rafe shrugged.

“I’m not a rat, kook,” Kie’s jaw was clenched in anger.

“Just leave dude,” you told Rafe, “You’re literally being an asshole for nothing.”

“Are you seriously defending her (Y/N)?” Rafe turned to you and you squared up in front of him despite his obvious height advantage. You wouldn’t let someone like Rafe Cameron intimidate you, “I thought you were friends with my sister?”

“And this is any of your business how?” you questioned and Rafe shoulders straightened up in an obvious feeling of defensiveness. Kie’s eyes were wide in shock as she glanced between you and Rafe. Something she definitely didn’t expect was one of Sarah’s closest friends coming to defend her against Sarah’s brother. But you had always been different from the other Kooks and Kie should’ve never underestimated that aspect of you.

“Hey you got an issue or something Kook!?” a voice called out and Kie watched as JJ, with John B and Pope following after him, made their way through the crowd of people. Rafe looked at them over your head but you didn’t even glance away.

“This isn’t your issue Pogues. It’s not always about you,” Rafe huffed and you tilted your head.

“Oh and it’s about you, Rafe?” you questioned and the attention turned back to you. Your necklaces jingled as you adjusted your footing, “Of course it is right? Why else would you be hanging around a bunch of teenagers?”

“You need to watch what you say next,” Rafe breathed, a hostile smile on his face.

“You’re an adult Rafe...and you subject yourself to hanging around people three years younger than you because you have no other way of maintaining your bullshit superiority,” you spoke in a low tone, eager to get under Rafe’s nerves and Rafe’s nerves only, “Oh...sorry if those words were too big for you,” you smiled up at him as your audience chuckled at Rafe’s expense.

From the side the four Pogues watched the interaction go down with wide eyes. They had barely acknowledged the Kooks who had pushed their way to the front of the scene and Sarah, Topper, and Kelce watched the two of you with anticipation. Rafe’s jaw clenched before he licked his lips and smiled that predatory smile of his, he leaned in close to you and you didn’t make a single attempt at back down or away from him.

“Yeah I’m real sure you didn’t think that when I was fucking you on my family’s boat the other night,” he said and a glance to the side indicated that the closest people, that being Kie and her Pogue friends, had heard him. You huffed as you tried to keep your cool.

“Y’know what Rafe? Maybe I would’ve actually enjoyed you fucking me...if you weren’t so far up your dad’s ass-” You gasped in unison with the crowd’s sudden yelling as Rafe threw his cup-drink and all- onto your entire front.

“OOOH SHIT!”

“What the fuck Rafe!?”

“Rafe stop it!”

Topper was quick to pull back Rafe as JJ and John B rushed to step in front of you. You panted heavily as Pope and Kie pulled you back and away from where a fight was very likely going to happen.

You sputtered at the sudden beer that had gone up your nose and you brought a hand up to try and wipe it off of your face, your make up likely ruined beyond repair at this point.

“You are such a pussy Rafe!” JJ yelled and Rafe let out a roar of anger as he broke out of Topper’s grip and shoved at JJ. John B shoved him back and return and soon enough the first punch was thrown. The crowd jeered at them in excitement, cheering them on as Topper, John B, JJ, and Rafe pummeled one another.

“Hey hey hey, are you ok?” Kie questioned you in a haste and you huffed as you wiped at your face once more, slicking your wet hair back.

“Fine-I’m fine! It’s literally...beer and a plastic cup,” you told her to try and stop her from fretting. If she was anything like Sarah...You shook your head and tried to gently push away Pope’s hands as you turned to watch the fight go down. The Kooks seemed to have gotten the upper hand so far and though you cringed you weren’t too surprised. Rafe was a pretty big guy, bigger than John B at least, and Topper seemed to hop onto JJ when the other blonde was already down.

“I think you should be more worried about your friends,” you pointed out and Kie and Pope whipped their heads up to watch their friends fight a losing battle.

“Shit!” Pope hissed.

“Dammit,” Kie breathed, “Get the hell off of them!” she yelled fruitlessly.

“Should I call the cops or something?” you questioned and Pope and Kie stared at you with wide eyes.

“What?! No!” Pope yelled and you put your arms up in defense.

“Ok jeez relax,” you chastised and Pope shrugged, embarrassed. The three of you watched the fight for only a moment longer before you cursed and rushed into the midst of it.

“(Y/N)?!”

“Jesus what is she doing?!-”

“(Y/N) stop!”

A flurry of voices called out to you as jumped onto Toppers back and tried to get him off of JJ. Topper struggled against you, clearly disoriented and agitated.

“Get-” Topper pulled your arms from around his shoulders and you yelped as he shoved you off. You landed harshly on the sand but quickly scrambled to get back up. If you learned anything from skating, it was get the fuck up as soon as you could and pretend shit didn’t hurt.

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N)!?” Topper yelled at you and you shoved him back to the general direction of where you figured Kelce and Sarah were as JJ tried to get himself together and Rafe and John B grappled with one another.

“Stop Topper,” you told him firmly before you turned, keeping your hand on Topper’s chest, “Rafe! Quit it, for fuck’s sake!”

JJ had gotten up at this point and was quick to shove Rafe off of John B and into the sand. John B staggered to stand up straight and you winced at the bruises already forming on his face. The two pogues stumbled back and away from Rafe and the Kooks, leaving you in the middle of their standoff.

“Alright, party’s over! Get the hell off our side!” JJ yelled and there was a murmur within the crowd as they began to disperse. Pogues and Kooks sneered at one another as they walked off toward their cars and Tourons only shrugged off the events of the night, clearly not looped into the deeper conflict of the island.

“C’mon (Y/N),” Rafe spit blood out onto the sand as Topper, Kelce, and Sarah stood behind him.

“Fuck you Rafe” you retorted, crossing your arms. You looked past him to Sarah and the girl only furrowed her brows, unsure of what you wanted her to do.

“Why don’t you just leave her alone Cameron?” JJ moved to stand beside you and everyone, including you, looked at JJ in surprise. John B raised a brow at his best friend but moved forward to stand by your other side as Rafe ground his teeth. The tall male ran a hand through his slicked back hair, pushing into a messy look that you’d usually be all over, but you couldn’t stand him right now.

“Fine, if you wanna stay here with these dirty Pogues, than be my fucking guest,” Rafe huffed and you only shrugged, unbothered.

“Better than being around you right now.”

“(Y/N)...” Sarah called and you looked at her. Her eyebrows were furrowed in distress and you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that shot through you for a moment but you stood your ground, “C’mon...please?”

“Sarah I love you but I didn’t even wanna come here tonight, let alone hang around your psycho brother. I’m not leaving with you guys,” you concluded, before you reached down to take your shoes off, “I’m just gonna fuckin’ walk.”

You ignored the calls of your name as you walked away from the boneyard and out onto the street. You didn’t really care that your socks were probably super dirty now, or that it was starting to get cold and you were drenched in beer. Alright...well you did kind of care that you were drenched and smelled like beer. You pulled your phone out and sighed at the message from your parents telling you that they’d be staying in your grandparent’s home in the mainland.

All your friends were on the mainland. Aside from Sarah. And maybe Scarlet but you really didn’t wanna deal with her right now.

The sound of a car pulling up beside you made you roll your eyes.

“Leave me alone please,” you told them, not even sparing whoever it was a glance as you continued walking.

“Not happening princess.”

You turned to look at JJ and the Pogues in surprise.

“Kie?” you questioned pausing in your trek. Their van followed as John B pressed on the breaks.

“Hey (Y/N),” Kie was leaning out the window of the passengers seat, her eyebrows furrowed in worry, “Let us take you home?”

“I really don’t-”

“C’mon (Y/L/N), it’s freezing and your dripping beer. Just get in the Twinkie,” JJ pulled the van door open even further, motioning for you to get in. It was kind of them, really it was. But JJ’s tone had irritated you and your hardheadedness so you only crossed your arms, your shoes dangling from the tips of your fingers.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because we....are offering you warmth and transportation?” JJ sassed.

“JJ. Shut up,” Pope slapped JJ’s chest and the blonde shot him an offended look. Kie rolled her eyes at them and opened the passengers side, stepping out of the car and walking up to you. She hugged herself, a bit insecure as she stood a few feet from you.

“I just..really wanna thank you. For defending me against Rafe,” Kie started, “And uh...I feel like I’ve always kind of judged you just cus you became Sarah’s friend after what happened between me and her, but you’re really cool...and you didn’t have to defend me, but you did.”

You shrugged.

“Doesn’t take much to be a good person,” you answered and Kie nodded.

“Yeah...um but..I just feel bad...that you got caught in the middle of that when you didn’t have to. So please let us take you home? I’m not even trying to...return the favor or anything...it’s just the right thing to do for someone who's always been cool with me...”

You pursed your lips and bit your cheek as Kie looked at you pleadingly.

“You are so corny...” you murmured and Kie only chuckled as she led you over to the van. She slid the door closed behind you as you made your way over to a vacant spot.

“Hey there,” JJ greeted with a grin and Pope waved at you awkwardly.

“Not gonna happen Maybank,” you told him bluntly and his grin dropped.

“Ohoshit,” Pope coughed and Kie snorted as John B shook his head, shifting the gears and driving off toward the other side of the island.

“Wha-hey you never know,” JJ teased and you chuckled.

“Hmm, the rebellious surfer boy isn’t really my type JJ. Sorry.”

“Really? What’s your type then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you smirked, crossed your legs and leaning back against your seat.

“I would like to know actually, that’s why I asked,” JJ quipped and you laughed.

“Ok fine...My type is Heyward here,” you nodded toward the boy and he straightened up in surprise. Pope’s mouth dropped and he floundered for a moment, pointing to himself.

“Pope?! Really?” JJ yelped as Pope smacked him upside the head.

“Screw you JJ,” Pope hissed, though there wasn’t any true animosity in it.

“Yeah I mean Pope’s really cute. Aside from Pope I’d also say Kie but I didn’t want you getting too excited.”

Pope flushed at the compliment and JJ’s eyes widened as he looked over to Kie. The girl turned to look over her shoulder in shock. She turned back to face the front, her cheeks warm, and a smile on her face as John B chuckled from the driver’s seat.

“Sorry bubba but I’d pick Pope too,” John B said and JJ made an offended noise.

“Hey!”

Your group laughed and you couldn’t help but sink into the comfortable and fun atmosphere that came with being with these Pogues. Perhaps you should’ve tried to give them a chance before.

“Oh shit uh where do you live again?” John B asked.

no part 2 sorry :/

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crimemind · 4 years ago

Text

Pervis Tyrone Payne

You can listen to the United States of Crime episode (#2) about this case here.

TW: MURDER, MURDER OF CHILDREN, DISCUSSION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE

The Death Penalty has been utilized as a form of punishment since man had a moral code. But today, only 53 countries offer the death penalty as a sentencing option for those convicted of a crime. The majority of countries in the world have either abolished the death penalty entirely or have made it available only in extreme cases. Belarus is the only holdout in Europe and most of the counties making up northeast Africa and the middle east retain the death penalty as a method of punishment. Guatemala, Guyana, and Cuba still practice capital punishment in Central and South America. Many Asian nations, such as Indonesia, Vietnam, and Thailand keep the death penalty as an option but only enforce it in rare cases or for specific crimes. America is one of only five first world nations, alongside Japan, China, India, South Korea, and Taiwan, to still actively sentence people to death. The United States stands alone as the only western country to still execute people. Japan only allows the execution of people convicted of murder and especially brutal crimes and the only method of execution is by hanging. India and South Korea also only executed prisoners by hanging. Mainland China offers two methods of execution, death by firing squad or lethal injection. Taiwan executes prisoners using a single handgun aimed at the prisoner’s heart or their brain stem under the ear if they consent to organ donation. Currently, Kazakhstan, Brazil, and Peru only exercise the death penalty in extreme cases. The current methods of execution used worldwide include beheading, electrocution, hanging, shooting, and lethal injection.

In 2019, 22 people, all male, were executed in the United States. An additional 34 people were sentenced to death last year and the total number of people on death row across the country is estimated at 2,656. In America, 30 states still have the death penalty and 20 have either abolished it or put a moratorium on capital punishment. On March 23rd, 2020 as I was writing this episode Colorado, which had put a moratorium on capital punishment, voted to abolish the death penalty.

The morality of the death penalty has been a polarizing issue for Americans for decades. The 1972 Supreme Court decision in Furman v. George ruled the death penalty as it was practiced at that time unconstitutional. This decision was based on the inconsistencies in sentencing at the time because defendants who were convicted very different crimes ranging in severity were given death sentences. However, the Supreme Court left it open for States to impose their own death penalties as long as clear standards were provided. In the four years following the Furman ruling, 35 states enacted their own capital punishment laws. Two main types of death penalty laws were written, the first stated clearly which crimes could be punishable by death and how variables in a case should be weighed. These variables include mitigating circumstances and aggravating circumstances. Mitigating factors explain and/or offer an explanation for the crime while aggravating factors reveal the aspects of the crime that are extraordinary and call for a harsher sentence. The second kind of death penalty law that was enacted made capital punishment mandatory for certain so-called capital crimes.

In 1976 the Supreme Court ruled in the case of Gregg v. Georgia and upheld the first type of death penalty laws which take into account mitigating and aggravating factors. The ruling struck down the mandatory death penalty laws on the grounds that they were “unduly harsh and rigid”. Executions, which had completely ceased in 1972, resumed in 1977. 50 executions took place between 1977 and 1985 as the Supreme Court heard the case of McCleskey v. Kemp, which dealt with how capital punishment had been utilized in the state of Georgia. The case was based on a study conducted by University of Iowa professor David Baldus who found that African American defendants who were charged with killing white people were given a death sentence seven times as often as white people who had been tried for killing African Americans. The Supreme Court ruled that while there was statistical evidence of racial discrimination, this was not enough to repeal the law. This ruling was based on the finding that the state itself had not encouraged racial discrimination in its courts.

In 2002 the Supreme court ruled on the case of Atkins v. Virginia and found that the execution of people with intellectual disabilities violated the 8th amendment, which prohibits cruel and unusual punishments. In 2005 the case of Roper v. Simmons was decided by the Supreme Court. This landmark case made it illegal to execute people who were under the age of 18 when they committed their crimes. Crimes that do not result in death are now not death penalty eligible crimes.

This topic is one that I’m deeply interested in and fascinated by and in posts to follow I will discuss other aspects of the Death Penalty in America, such as execution methods and their flaws, the elderly on death row, the appeals process, and the cost of upholding the death penalty. But today’s case relates to the Atkins v. Virginia ruling and the execution of individuals with intellectual disabilities or limitations.

The case we’ll be talking about today is that of Pervis Tyrone Payne. In 1987, Payne, an African American man, was 20-years-old and living in Shelby County, Tennessee. Payne was dating a woman named Bobbie Thomas of Millington, TN and on the morning of Saturday, June 27th, Payne went to Thomas’ apartment at the Hiwasse Apartment complex to wait for her. She had been out of town on a trip and was expected to arrive home that night and the two had plans to spend the weekend together. He brought an overnight bag with three cans of Colt 45 malt liquor with him and left this bag at the door of the apartment. According to the version of events presented later at trial, Payne stayed around the apartment complex for most of the day and spent his time injecting Cocaine and drinking beer. He left the apartment sometime during the day to ride in his friend’s car with him. The two men took turns driving so that while the one in the passenger seat could read a pornographic magazine.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, Payne returned to Thomas’ apartment complex but Thomas was still not home. Across the hall from Thomas lived Charisse Christopher and her two children, 3-year-old Nicholas and 2-year-old Lacie. It is unclear how well Payne knew Christopher from spending time at Thomas’ apartment, it is believed that they had possibly seen one another in passing. Regardless Payne entered the apartment of Charisse Christopher without permission. When Christopher saw Payne in her home she began screaming at him to get out. The apartment complex’s resident manager lived in the unit directly below Christopher’s and heard her screams. She reported hearing a “blood-curdling scream” come from the apartment and called the police. In between making the call and when the police arrived, the manager reported that the screaming had stopped and she had heard someone using the sink in the bathroom of the upstairs unit. Mere minutes after the police were called, the first officer arrived at the scene.

Payne was observed exiting Christopher’s apartment while carrying his shoes, he then picked up his overnight bag, and descended the stairs. The officer approached him at the bottom of the steps and noticed that he was covered in blood the officer later stated: “It looked like he was sweating blood”. The officer stopped Payne and asked him who he was, Payne responded “I’m the complainant”, which doesn’t make any sense. Payne was then asked what was going on upstairs and proceeded to hit the officer with the overnight bag. Payne dropped his shoes and began running away from the apartment building to another one. The officer attempted to catch up with Payne but could not before he disappeared.

Additional officers had arrived on the scene at this point. They entered Christopher’s apartment and found Charisse Christopher Laci, and Nicholas on the kitchen floor. 3-year-old Nicholas had been stabbed multiple times completely through his abdomen but was still breathing. Laci and Charisse were deceased. Charisse had been stabbed an excessive number of times with a butcher’s knife in her abdomen, back, and head. There does not seem to be a consensus on how many times she was stabbed, I found sourced that stated it was 9 times, 42 times, and 84 times. Regardless, it appeared that the fatal injury was a cut through her aorta. She was found lying on her back with her shorts pushed up on her body and a used tampon had been placed next to her. The butcher knife was lying at her feet and her hand and forearm had been stuck through the adjustment strap at the back of Payne’s baseball cap. 2-year-old Laci was found deceased next to her mother, having bled out before help arrived.

Inside of the apartment Police recovered the three cans of Colt 45 malt liquor, which had Payne’s fingerprints on them. Another empty beer can was found outside of the apartment. Additionally, Payne’s fingerprints were found on the telephone and the kitchen counter of Christopher’s apartment. Investigators had the officer’s description of Payne and the search for him began immediately. He was found later the same day in the attic of an ex-girlfriend’s house. As he was escorted out of the house, Payne told the police “Man, I ain’t killed no woman”. Officers noted that Payme had a “wild look about him. His pupils were contracted. He was foaming at the mouth, saliva. He appeared to be very nervous. He was breathing real rapid.” When Payne was taken into custody, he was still wearing blood-soaked clothing and had multiple scratch marks across his chest. His watch also had blood stains on it and in his pockets police found a packet with Cocaine residue, the wrapper from a hypodermic syringe, and the cap of a hypodermic syringe. He had ditched his overnight bag in a nearby dumpster and it was later found with a bloody white shirt inside.

Pervis Payne was charged for the murders of 28-year-old Charisse and 2-year-old Laci Jo. 3-year-old Nicholas survived the attack. Payne was prosecuted for two counts of first-degree murder and two counts of attempted murder. The trial began in 1988 and several neighbors testified as to what they experienced on July 27th, 1987. Multiple people heard Chairsse’s screams and heard someone frantically trying to close the back door to the yard shared by residents. One woman testified that she had seen the hand of someone whom she perceived to be an African American man reach over the yard fence. Below the hand at the wrist was a gold watch, similar in description to the one Payne was wearing when he was apprehended.

The medical examiner testified as to the state of Charisse and Laci’s bodies. He told the court that Charisse was menstruating at the time of her death, hence the used tampon found near her body. He swabbed her vagina and there was acid phosphatase present, which indicated the presence of sperm, but ultimately no sperm was recovered. Acid Phosphatase is found where high concentrations of seminal fluid recently were. Because there was no sperm found in the body, this enzyme could have been left by pre-ejaculate.

Payne took the stand at his own trial, which is extremely rare in murder cases. There are many reasons why Defendants do not testify in murder trials. Most are advised not to by their counsel to avoid self-incrimination, protect from the brutality of cross-examination, and to deprive the prosecution of the opportunity to make the defendant look bad. Payne told the court that he did not hurt any member of the Christopher family. He claimed that another man had pushed by him when he was walking up the stairs and that man had burst into Charisse Christopher’s apartment. He said that he had heard a baby crying and Charisse calling for help. According to Payne, he found the door open and called to Charisse before entering. He described the scene as follows:

“I saw the worst thing I ever saw in my life and like my breath just had--had tooken--just took out of me. . . . she was looking at me. She had the knife in her throat with her hand on the knife like she had been trying to get it out and her mouth was just moving but words had faded away. And I didn’t know what to do”

Payne explained that his clothing had been stained when he tried to remove the butcher knife from Charisse’s neck. He claimed that Charisse was still alive and reached out to him and grabbed his shirt. This unnerved Payne and he fled the apartment when he heard police sirens approaching.

Payne was them cross-examined by the prosecution. He was questioned as to why the left leg of his pants had bloodstains on it. During the exchange, Payne said that Charisse’s blood got on his pants when she “hit the wall”. He asserted that she had grabbed his arms and he recoiled, at which point she fell backward onto the wall and the floor. Payne was asked four times if the blood got on his leg when Charisse fell back into the pool of blood as he had claimed. On the fourth reiteration of the question, Payne changed his answer. He was asked by the prosecuting attorney “Is that what you said, sir, that she got blood on your when she hit the wall?”. Payne then, for the first time, did not affirm that this is what he said. He responded, “I didn’t say she got blood on me when she hit the wall”. The attorney asked if he had not just said the opposite and he responses that he had not said that blood had gotten on him when Charisse “hit the wall”.

This piece of the cross-examination stands out to me. The fact that Payne said the same thing more than four times and then suddenly denied that he had said it is not normal, even if a defendant is lying. It shows that there is some confusion or lack of understanding on Payne’s part.

Payne was ultimately found guilty of all charges. He was eligible for the death penalty. Before sentencing, mitigating and aggravating factors were presented to the court. Payne’s girlfriend, Bobby Thomas, testified that Payne went to church wither her often, which in itself doesn’t really speak to someone’s character, just their belief system. She also told the court that her three children loved Payne and that he was a great father figure to them. She knew him as a caring person that did not use drugs or drink and would never hurt someone.

Payne’s parents also testified. They explained that he had no criminal record whatsoever and had never been arrested. Like Thomas, they testified that Payne did not use drugs or alcohol. He had been a hard worker and assisted his father, who was a painter. They described him as a good son and an exemplary father figure for Thomas’ children.

A clinical psychologist also testified during the sentencing phase. The psychologist had administered an IQ test to Payne. The results showed that Payne’s verbal IQ was 78 and his performance IQ was 82. Generally, the IQ threshold for a diagnosis of intellectual disability commonly referred to as mental retardation is a score of 75. Because of this, Payne was considered by the psychologist to be “mentally handicapped”. He noted that Payne was the most polite prisoner he had ever interviewed.

Along with the aggravating factors of the case, Charisse Christopher’s mother testified to the distress and hardship her daughter and granddaughter’s murders had imposed on her. She told the court that Nicholas, Charisse’s surviving son, still cried for his mother and sister even a year later. Nicholas experienced severe physical and mental trauma from the attack. Payne was sentenced to death for both murder counts and an additional 30 years for the attempted murder of Nicholas.

Payne appealed his sentence to the Tennessee Supreme Court. Payne’s legal team filed the appeal on several grounds. They asserted that the victim impact statement given by Charisse’s mother emotionally influenced the jury against him, thus violating his 8th amendment right of protection against cruel and unusual punishment. The court ruled against Payne and affirmed both of the death sentences. In 1991, Payne appealed his case to the Supreme Court. The question at hand was whether the 8th amendment prohibits the jury in a capital case from considering the impact of the crime of the surviving family members. In a 6 to 3 decision, the court ruled against Payne. This decision effectively overruled the decision in the 1987 case of Booth v Maryland, which had established that such emotional testimony did infringe on a defendant’s 8th amendment rights.

Pervis Tyrone Payne never admitted to the murders and maintains his innocence. He has been living on Death Row in Tennessee ever since, having exhausted all of his appeals. He twice had execution dates set, both in 2007 and before each date arrived he received a stay of execution. In September of 2019, the state of Tennessee filed a motion to set the execution date for Payne for December 3rd, 2020. His legal team filed a 120-page response to the state’s motion to set an execution date in December of 2019. Supervisory Assistant for the Federal Public Defender Kelley J. Henry and Assistance Chief of the Capital Habeas Unit Amy D. Harwell allege that Pervis Payne is “indisputably intellectually disabled” and in adherence to Atkins v. Virginia, his execution would be illegal. In 2019, Payne’s IQ was retested by Dr. Daniel Martell and it was found to be only 72. Dr. Martell identified neurocognitive impairments and adaptive behavior deficits in Payne that had been documented at the age onset.

Dr. Martell explained that a factor at play in this case in something known as the Flynn Effect. The Flynn Effect states, in layman’s terms, that a person’s IQ score increased over time. This effect has been noted in the United States and similar countries and it is believed that the average rate of 0.3 IQ points per year. Not only is the Flynn Effect fascinating, but it also exemplifies the failings of using IQ tests when deciding who is eligible for the death penalty. Because of the Flynn Effect, a person could be considered mentally unfit for execution and then years later become fit for execution. Also, to be able to accurately measure current IQ scores against past scores, a reduction of 0.3 points per year between tests is required. The Atkins decision gives states discretion in how they define intellectual disability as a matter of law. Most states use IQ-based definitions, but do not adjust for the Flynn Effect. The inconsistent definitions and thresholds to determine intellectual disability are cause for concern when talking about the decision to execute someone or to sentence them to life in prison.

According to Dr. Martell, Payne’s functional IQ, taking the Flynn Effect into account, is 68.4, well under the standard of 75 points as a determination of mental fitness. Dr. Reschly, an expert in Intellectual Disability, also evaluated Payne and reported a full-scale IQ of 74, before adjustment for the Flynn Effect. This score puts Payne into the intellectually disabled category according to the American Association on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities. According to documents and testimony from his family members, Payne had a long history of developmental delays. In school, he was known to teachers and fellow classmates as “slow” and he was unable to graduate high school and failed the Tennessee Proficiency Exam five times before dropping out. For reference, an average 9th-grade student would pass this exam on the first try, Payne took the exam every year starting in 9th grade for five years. When Payne was in the 9th grade, he was unable to complete writing assignments and his teachers had stopped grading him based on his ability to reach the required level of comprehension based on his grade and instead graded him for his effort in class. According to one teacher, Martha Faye, “Pervis was slow and had low comprehension...He didn’t read well enough to understand the material on his own, and even when the material was explained to him, he had to be told over and over what to do. He couldn’t retain instructions or information from one day to the next”.

Family members also noticed Payne’s deficits. Rolanda, Payne’s younger sister by 7 years, claims that Payne couldn’t help her with her homework as a kid. His family was aware of his inability to comprehend anything more complicated than simple, short instructions and his mother did not allow him to iron or wash clothing because he could never complete a task without destroying something. Despite this, his parents never demanded that he do better in school and accepted his limitations. In his teen years, Payne worked at Pizza Hut and his supervisor described him as “mentally challenged”. He always had to refer to instruction sheets that were posted at all work stations long after he had finished training and had been working there for a while.

When Payne went to work for his father, Carl Payne, the patriarch understood that instructions had to be repeated several times to make sure that Payne understood them. He was unable to follow instructions with too many steps. Carl Payne reports that as a child Payne was delayed in learning to walk and talk. He could not feed himself until he was 5 years old and he was also plagued by a stutter until early adulthood. His mother believed that Payne’s difficulties were because he was born prematurely. After dropping out of high school, Payne still could not count money, add up the cost of items, use a tape measure, read aloud, or identify street names and follow maps.

Payne’s attorneys also allege that there is a strong chance that Payne did not commit the crimes. The document by Henry and Harwell includes Payne’s version of events. He claims that he was going up to his girlfriend’s apartment and heard a noise come from Charisse’s unit. He went inside to help whoever was crying out and was so overwhelmed by the gruesome scene that he panicked and fled the apartment. These actions would be more aligned with Payne’s history of mental deficiency, his reported lack of violence and drug use, and his reputation as a kind and gentle person. The motive for the crime as put forth by the prosecution was Payne’s desire to sexually assault Christopher, a woman whom he did not know.

The story about Payne using cocaine and drinking beer before the murders is also unsubstantiated. Payne was not drug tested when he was apprehended, despite his mother’s request that he be tested. The defense also alleges that the tampon was recovered two days after the murders and does not appear in any of the crime scene photographs. Payne’s injuries, mainly the scratches, were not consistent with a violent struggle and the blood on his clothing matched his description of events.

The acid phosphatase also could not be linked definitively to Payne. According to the defense, the original prosecution did not present testimony from Darryl Shanks, Charisse’s boyfriends at the time. Shanks told investigators that he and Charisse had consensual sex just hours before her murder. After the trial during a post-conviction hearing, Shanks recanted his affidavit. Payne’s counsel claims that they were never made aware of Shanks’ interview or this potentially critical evidence. As a side note, this seems like a Brady violation to me. For those who may not know a Brady Violation occurs when a piece of evidence that could be exculpatory is willfully or negligently hidden from the defense by the prosecution. This affidavit from Shanks would have cast substantial doubt on the prosecution theory of motive, which could have swayed the jury’s decision.

One of the more egregious pieces of possible prosecutorial misconduct is the alleged suppression of blood and semen evidence. Henry and Harwell discovered residue evidence that had not been introduced at Payne’s first trial. They attempted to obtain this evidence but the Shelby County Criminal Court Clerk’s staff refused to give it to them without a court order. According to Henry and Harwell, they had never been outright denied evidence while working on a case before. An Emergency Motion to be Permitted to View Evidence was granted on December 20th, 2019 and that day Payne’s counsel examined the evidence in Memphis, TN. Among the pieces of evidence was a comforter with bloodstains, bloody sheets, and one bloody pillow. These pieces of evidence are in contrast to the prosecution’s assertion that the kitchen of Christopher’s apartment was the only area considered a crime scene. The victim’s tampon was also kept as evidence and may have traces of sperm that could be tested for DNA. According to Tennessee Code 40-30-304(2), If evidence is still in existence and in good enough condition to be tested, the court shall order DNA analysis. In 2006, Payne had filed a Petition for Post-Conviction DNA analysis, which was denied.

Now that we’ve gone over the contrasting evidence and the mitigating factors laid out by the defense, let’s talk about alternative suspects. At the time of her death, Charisse Christopher was divorced from her husband, Kenneth Christopher. It is well documented that Mr. Christopher was physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive toward Charisse during their marriage. Charisse eventually fled the couple’s home and moved to her hometown of Millington where she filed for divorce. In the divorce complaint, Charisse cited cruel and inhumane treatment, abandonment, and neglect as grounds for the divorce. Mr. Christopher had a long and violent criminal history predating the marriage and continuing on after it had ended. Mr. Christopher had no less than 9 DUI charges and he had been escorted by police from his mother’s home due to his drunkenness after she called for help.

At first, investigators ruled Mr. Christopher out because he was serving the last year of the five year prison sentence for aggravated assault. He was housed at the Fort Pillow State Penitentiary, which was renamed the Cold Creek Correctional Facility in Lauderdale County, TN. However, Mr. Christopher was allowed to leave the premises on weekends if they were considered minimum security. Mr. Christopher could have left the prison on the morning of the murder, which was a Saturday, committed the crime, and return to the prison without repercussion or much notice. According to the filing, Mr. Christopher was aware that Charisse was in a new relationship and knew where she lived.

Pervis Payne also maintains that a man was already inside of Charisse Christopher’s apartment before he entered. He described the man as a black guy with a long white or beige tropical shirt that was covered in blood. He said that he observed the man jump from the landing on the second floor to the steps before running past Payne. Payne claims that the unknown man dropped coins and items while fleeing and that he picked them up and put them in his pocket, hence the drug paraphernalia later found on him. He told officers about this man in the tropical shirt while being transported to police headquarters. A neighbor, John Edward Williams, came forward in 1992 and said that he had seen Payne walking to the apartment building as another African American man rushed out of the building, got in a car, and drove away. Minutes later, Williams saw Payne running from the upstairs unit. According to Williams, the same black man he had seen run past Payne had been to Christopher’s apartment several times before and had observed Christopher and the man arguing.

Williams and a man named Leroy Jones gave affidavits which included their knowledge of Charisse Christopher’s use of illegal drugs. Now, this information is absolutely not to diminish the extreme tragedy of Charisse and Laci’s deaths or to paint Charisse in a negative light. It is being mentioned to create a clearer picture of the situation and one of the possible theories presented by the defense. Jones was involved in drug trafficking in the area and knew that his brother, Charles Jones, had enlisted Christopher to sell drugs for him. According to Leroy Jones, Charles Jones had told an associate name William Hall to “take care of the Christopher woman”. This conversation took place one week before the murders. Williams, Jones, and Kenneth Christopher all admitted to having used drugs with Charisse Christopher in the past, specifically amphetamines. Methamphetamine and amphetamine were present in Christopher’s blood at the time of her death according to the toxicology report. The theory alluded to in Payne’s defense filing is that Charisse Christopher was murdered by William Hall on the orders of Charles Jones to silence her or enact some form of revenge.

Henry and Harwell site five similar cases in which defendants were wrongfully convicted of murder after stumbling upon the crime scene. Those defendants, Chad Heins and Clemente Aguirre of Florida, John Nolley and Darryl Adams of Texas, and David Ayers of Ohio, have been exonerated. We don’t have time to discuss this extremely heavy topic on this episode but I want to note that the response by Henry and Harwell also includes a section entitled, The Death Penalty is Racist which details how capital punishment had been used to systematically oppress African Americans in Tennessee for centuries. The section begins on page 64 and I have included the link to the entire response in case anyone wants to read it.

Despite this, in my opinion, extremely well-crafted response in opposition to the motion to set an execution date, the state of Tennessee’s motion to set the date was granted on February 24th, 2020. Currently, there are no attempts to save Pervis Tyrone Payne’s life in motion. This case has evolved so much since Payne’s initial trial in 1988 and the work of Kelley Henry and Amy Harwell has completely changed my view of this situation. I’m sure many of you, like me, heard the initial version of events and thought “well it sounds pretty obvious that he did it”. When I was researching this case I thought that this episode was going to be about the issue of executing a likely intellectually disabled, but 100% guilty person because of a flawed measurement of mental functioning. But this case is about those measurements AND about the impending execution of a man who I, personally, could not in good conscience say is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

The accounts from Payne’s teachers, classmates, and family members support the conclusion that his intellectual functioning is impaired, which would render his sentence of death unconstitutional under the Atkins ruling. Payne was always a nonviolent, caring, and person as his girlfriend and family members testified to. People with intellectual disabilities do not randomly attack a mother and two small children in this manner. The crime was extremely brutal and I have a hard time believing that Payne simply decided to sexually assault and then murder a woman he did not know while waiting for his girlfriend to come home.

Murderers most often have a criminal history of violence before they commit a homicide. According to the U.S. Department of Justice, around 70% of people convicted of murder have previous arrests and/or convictions. Payne did not have any criminal history whatsoever, nor did he have a history of violence. Furthermore, people with intellectual disabilities, like Payne, are much more likely to be victims of violence than to be perpetrators. According to a study conducted by Lovell and Skellern, people with mental disabilities in a clinical setting tend to react violently when they are confronted with communication difficulties, frustration, and emotional distress.

Many patients who acted out had a history of impulsive and unpredictable behavior. Generally, violent reactions were more strongly associated with disorders including ADHD, Dementia, and Bipolar disorder. People with mild intellectual disability were found to be more deliberate in their verbal and physical assaults, whereas people with moderate or severe intellectual disability were likely to lash out indiscriminately due to circumstantial stressors. Because of Payne’s specific intellectual disability and his lack of a criminal record, the likelihood of him being the murderer is statistically slim, but not impossible. It would be extremely unusual for the type of crime perpetrated against the Christopher family to be the offender’s first crime.

The extent of violence inflicted on Charisse Christopher in particular is characteristic of an offender acting out of anger, retaliation, or passion. Payne had no discernible connection to Christopher that would elicit these feelings. The prosecution alleged that Payne made sexual advances toward Christopher and became violent when he was rebuked. But Payne had no history of sexual aggression or assault and he was waiting for his girlfriend to get home. It wouldn’t make sense that he would attack a random woman and her children instead of stifling his sexual desires until he was with his girlfriend.

Now, I would be remiss if I didn’t bring up a fairly touchy aspect of this case. Charisse Christopher and her children were white. Pervis Payne is black. As we discussed earlier in this episode, there is a documented history of African Americans being disproportionately sentenced to death for killing white people. It is also likely that the investigators for this case were majority white. In 2019, Nicholas Christopher, now 35-year-old, gave an interview to the british tabloid, the Sun. Nicholas recounts the events of his mother and sister’s murders with surprising detail. He claims that he did not see the face of his mother’s attacker, but his aunt Angie later said that Nicholas saw a picture of Payne on the news after he had recovered and he told her “That’s the man who killed my mom”.

While this seems like compelling evidence, and this analysis is not intended to diminish Nicholas Christopher’s experience or loss, there are well researched reasons why Nicholas could have easily misidentified Payne. Cross-Race bias, something that will come into play in future episodes, is a huge issue with Witness Identification. Cross-Racial bias is the reduced ability to differentiate people of races other than one’s own. In criminal cases, this can lead to misidentification if the defendant is a different race than the witness. Studies have shown that babies as young as 6 months old demonstrate a level of cross-racial bias. Nicholas may have seen Pervis Payne and identified him simply because he was black and wasn’t drastically different to the real killer. It should also be noted that Nicholas was only 3 years old. There is a good reason why children that young do not usually testify in criminal trials. Children that young are extremely open to outside influence, they lie, they can be re-traumatized by the experience, and they don’t have reliable memories. On top of all of that, Nicholas was an extremely traumatized child, who wouldn’t be after experiencing what he did? Trauma can cloud a person’s perception and their ability to code memories accurately. So while Nicholas’ interview is interesting, I would be hard pressed to weigh it against other more forensically solid aspects of this case.

I think that the assertions made at trial by the prosecution that Payne had been doing drugs and drinking all day should not have been admitted without proof that drugs were in his body when he was arrested. Without proof, a claim like this is mere speculation. The failure to test the items from Christopher’s bedroom is another failing that I have trouble looking past. With modern forensic science at our disposal, I think there’s no excuse for not testing potentially critical evidence. The worst thing that can happen, from the prosecution’s standpoint, is that the DNA does not match Payne. Even in that scenario, wouldn’t you rather admit that your theory was wrong than be a party to the execution of an innocent man? It is in the interest of truth and justice for Charisse, Laci, and Nicholas Christopher to investigate every shred of evidence. If DNA proves that someone else was in Charisse Christopher’s apartment in the moments before her death, then Pervis Payne deserves another trial.

A 2014 study conducted by Samuel Gross, Barbara O’Brien, Chen Hu, and Edward H. Kennedy concluded that at least 4.1% of people on death row at any given time are likely innocent and/or would be exonerated. According to th Death Penalty Information Database, there are 18 likely innocent people who have been executed since 1976, that we know of. The most recent addition to that list was made after the execution of Larry Swearingen on August 21st, 2019. As of now, Pervis Payne will join the ranks of executed but possibly innocent people on December 3rd, 2020. Despite the solid information pertaining to Payne’s intellectual disability, baseless assertions by prosecutors, the lack of forensic evidence against him, his enduring proclamation of innocence, alternative suspects, and the sheer lack of violent tendency or motive, the state of Tennessee does not seem to care that they may be executing an innocent, intellectually disabled man. But this isn’t a rare occurrence. It’s merely a story line that has played out in America for centuries, and even with all of our new technology and investigative strategies, it keeps replaying. Why? Because we let it.

If you feel that Pervis Payne’s execution should be stopped, please call the office of Tennessee Governor Bill Lee at (615) 741-2001, you could tweet to him, his twitter username is @GovBillLee, or you can email him through the Tennessee Government website https://www.tn.gov/governor/contact-us.html.

#death penalty #true crime #murder #forensic psychology #crime #podcast #true crime podcast #pervis payne #pervis tyrone payne #the innocence project #capital punishment #charisse christopher

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rememberthattime · 6 years ago

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Chapter 47. Fiji

I was born on May 13, 1989. I don’t remember much about the day, but from pictures, it looked like a great time. My parents were celebrating, there were balloons, someone brought a children’s Chicago Cubs baseball set.

Today is my 30th birthday, so I’m reflecting … looking back all the way to the very start.

It’s interesting to imagine my mom & dad’s thoughts in that delivery room 30 years ago. They must have been terrified by the responsibility of raising a toddler (I would be), but also excited for their new son’s future. What will he grow up to be? Where will he live? What will he do? Their dreams for me had to be bigger than their 1980’s hair.

In the least dramatic way I can say this: they couldn’t have predicted where I’d end up 30 years later.

Birthdays are important to celebrate, but especially milestone birthdays. This is mainly Chelsay’s influence speaking, but I agree with her: milestone birthdays are ones you’ll always remember. 15 years from now, we’ll think back and ask: “What did we do for your 30th birthday?” ... I won’t let that be an ordinary memory. Life is busy though, so it’s tough to carve out a day for festivities, let alone plan them. Even a month ago, Chelsay and I didn’t know how we’d be celebrating. Chels had plans in motion, but my work complicated things by scheduling meetings in Atlanta the week before. My trip back to Sydney would require 24 hours of flights, so would we still be up for a big celebration? The answer is Yes. I’m not 70, and I just said milestone birthdays were important, so we’re making this happen. Work would pay for me to get from ATL back to SYD via any route, so Chels and I started looking for convenient connecting destinations. Hong Kong, Tokyo, Patagonia, and Hawaii were all considered, but in the end, we found the perfect blend of celebration, relaxation, adventure, and convenient flights in Fiji. Fiji is a county made up of 330 islands, and each island chain has its own unique characteristics. Viti Levu is the main island and home to Nadi Airport, but most tourists don’t stay here. Near Viti Levu are the Mamanucas, small sandy dots amongst the expansive blue. The Mamanucas are stunning, but they’re typically more resort-y and popular with nearby Aussies & Kiwis. Then there are the Yasawas, where Chelsay and I chose to stay. The Yasawas are further from the mainland, and their remoteness means their less touristy.

This is a double-edged sword though, because less tourists means there’s less tourist infrastructre, so finding a comfortable option would take some research. We eventually decided on Paradise Cove, which perfectly balanced vacation comforts (comfy bed, outdoor shower, and excellent food, which can’t be understated on a remote island) with a sense of wild adventure (fewer guests, great snorkelling, and hiking paths around the large island).

I nailed my meetings in Atlanta, so my birthday weekend was off to a good start even before boarding the plane. For the next 24 hours of flights, I had nothing to worry about - just enjoying a few movies and catching up on sleep. Chelsay and I met up in the Nadi Airport after extremely disproportionate flight times (hers was only 4 hours), and caught a ferry to Paradise Cove. Seaplanes were an option, but they were 5x the price and this wasn’t our honeymoon. The other advantage of the ferry is that it allowed us to see the different Fijian islands up close. Viti Levu and the Mamanucas were very nice, but Chelsay and I knew we’d made the right choice as we arrived in the less crowded Yasawas.

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We were in heaven as we stepped onto the sandy beaches of Paradise Cove. A jungle of palm trees lined the beach, at first hiding the resort before eventually revealing a dream island getaway: shaded cabanas, pool-side lounge chairs, and a bar concocting frozen, fruity treats.

The pineapple on top of this pina colada was that Chelsay told the resort it was both of our birthdays, so they upgraded our villa and outfitted it with balloons and welcome drinks. As birthday surprises go, drinks on a beach in Fiji was pretty good.

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After drinks on the beach, scuba diving wasn’t really an option, so we decided to snorkel in Paradise Cove’s house reef. I was really surprised by its color. It was just last week that I wrote about the scale of the Great Barrier Reef... but out in the middle of the Pacific, Fiji’s immense soft coral, highlighter vibrancy, and sea life abundance were incredible.

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Now, it was inevitable that jet lag would catch up to me. Atlanta is 16 hours behind Fiji, and I was mentally nearing midnight. Chelsay was also dealing with severe time zone change (2 hours), so she was equally down for a nap. We gave ourselves 90 minutes but would wake up well before our 6:30 dinner. Apparently we woke up to the alarm at 5:30... I don’t remember. I guess I turned it off and only woke up once Chelsay checked her phone. 6:20. Woof. I say all this only to give you an idea of the mental state I was in over dinner. It was similar to that infamous Innsbruck dinner, where Chelsay and I giggled through our whole meal in a tired haze. After our mains, I asked Chelsay if it was time to call it a night... Despite having sour straws in the room, she insisted we stay at the restaurant for dessert. “Alright, well if we’re going to be here awhile, I need some extra bug spray.” I stumbled back to the room and, as I was re-applying, I heard singing in the distance. “Must be the ‘Kava Social’ by the fire pit,” I thought. ...These resorts always put on a show. Still in a sleepy haze, I leisurely made my way back to Chelsay. As I got closer though, I realized the singing wasn’t coming from the fire pit… it was coming from the restaurant. I turned the corner and could see they were surrounding Chelsay and I’s table... and Chelsay had her hands clasped over her mouth... and they weren’t making eye contact with her... and they had a cake. OH NO! They’d been singing this whole time for me!!!! Ahhhhh-I rushed back to the table, face bright red, and started clapping along as they sang a Fijian happy birthday song. I don’t know what they sang actually... it could’ve been the alphabet. I just tried to focus on Chelsay and not on the fact that the song had been going for at least three minutes. I thought to myself, “Chelsay must be so embarrassed!” And then I thought, “Oh no everyone thinks I was taking a shit!” The song finally wrapped up, and the waiters were laughing with Chelsay and I. They accusingly pointed out that it was the longest they’ve ever had to sing happy birthday… “Guys, I swear, I was putting on more bug spray!” Luckily a nearby couple caught the awkwardness of camera.

The next morning, Chelsay and I had scheduled back-to-back dives. We’ve been diving quite a bit recently, but it was still fun to float around the bottom of the ocean. Much like the local humans, Fijian fish seemed incredible friendly: the sea life was very comfortable with divers, staring back at Chelsay and I from only a few inches away.

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After our dives, Chels and I took a 1.5 hour hike around the island, stopping at a secluded beach for private snorkelling. Along the hike, the resort had set up a few small exercise stations. One station was a tire flip... like what NFL prospects train with. This is probably why all the Polynesian players are so big. Anyway, Chelsay challenged me to flip it and I did so without difficulty. It must not have looked hard, because Chelsay confidently stepped up to try it herself. She bent down, grabbed the tire, lifted from her legs for less than one millisecond, and walked away with nothing but a “Nope.”

At dinner that night, first of all, there were no birthday song surprises. Second, we had phenomenal steak with a spread of beetroot, pea, and garlic purée. It was exceptional, as was every meal we ate at Paradise Cove. This can’t be overstated. I mentioned earlier that food in many Yasawan islands is poor, often limited to rice and fries. These resorts just aren’t prepared to meet all vacation comforts... Paradise Cove was ready though. Over our three days, we enjoyed tasty local kokoda, beef lettuce wraps, coconut crusted chicken, and their many fresh catches of the day.

The next morning, Chelsay and I joined a snorkel excursion through a nearby island channel. In Fiji, these channels serve as a funnel for pods of manta rays, which are probably my favorite non-dog animal. See, ever since our failed hunt for mantas in the Maldives, I’ve had an appreciation for how hard they are to find. Even though we’ve since seen entire pods of mantas, I’ll always jump at the slightest chance to see another. Our boat between the two islands, and the guide jumped in the water. He wore a weight belt so that he could sink down where the mantas swim, which I only mention because I want to remember how easily he descended 10 meters (30 feet), sitting in the dark blue for 2 minutes before resurfacing. This guy is a fish. On the other hand, Chelsay had a less graceful descent. When we scuba dived the day before, we exited the boat by sitting on the ledge, tanks over the water, and just falling backwards. The weight of the tank would naturally fall into the water and 360-degree flip you back to the surface. When snorkelling though, you don’t have the weight of the tank. Chelsay threw herself back and entered the water, but was too buoyant to complete a flip. She’d contoured herself into an arch, with her belly sticking out of the water and fins frantically trying to rotate over. She probably scared the mantas away. It took about 30 minutes of tense anticipation, but while staring down at the blue abyss, we heard the guide yell, “Manta!” Chelsay and I swam over quickly to take in the majestic giant. At around 3 meters wide, this female manta was bigger than me, yet swam with such gentle grace. Its grace is deceptive though, because it’s actually still moving quickly - between our hunt and subsequent chase, I probably swam 3 km that morning.

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Chels and I were tired when we got back to Paradise Cove, but it was our last day so we decided to snorkel the house reef one more time. It was cool to see the soft coral again, but we were pooped. I actually had to tow Chelsay back: you know, when I swim in front and my wife just holds onto my foot.

As I was towing her, we passed over a shallow part of the reef but I kept powering along. Suddenly, Chelsay let go of my foot and started slapping the water. I stopped in my tracks, unsure what she was freaking out about. She swam off, so I followed, and it wasn’t until we’d gotten to shore that she told me what it was: apparently a venomous white-banded sea snake popped out and launched within 1.5 ft of me. That was enough sea life for this trip, so we spent the rest of the day on the resort’s inflated jungle gym. We laughed, played around, and attempted backflips (key word: attempted). Just a reminder that I’d turned 30 a few days before.

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That note actually transitions well into my conclusion…

A lot of people get anxious about their 30th birthday. It isn’t a vitality thing - too early for that - but the anxiety comes more from gauging where you are vs where you thought you’d be. Life isn’t a checklist, but it’s natural to have expectations for when you turn 30, 40, etc. Well, I’m writing this from my villa patio in Fiji, so I’m nailing the “Where you are” part. To answer that question less literally though, I’ll instead consider “Where I am” against Chelsay and I’s life motto, something we wrote in our wedding vows: “We’ll never let age get in the way of our youth.” This is perfect motto for age-related milestones because youth isn’t a concept tied to age. It isn’t chapter in your life that just fades away. It’s a mindset, and it’s one you can measure whether you’re 5, 20, 30, 40, or 80. To be youthful is to be energetic, playful, and optimistic. Now I’m technically 30, but this milestone age doesn’t bother me. “Where I am” is energetic enough to swim with Mantas, playful enough to laugh at awkward cake situations and splash around on an inflatable jungle gym, and optimistic enough to make a celebratory Fiji weekend happen despite all of life’s complexities. I’m not worried about turning 30, because after the past weekend, I know I’m as youthful as I’ve ever been.

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punalavaflow · 6 years ago

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Purgatory in Puna: Eruption survivors eager to return home — with or without roads

The largest eruption in more than 200 years to hit Kilauea’s lower East Rift Zone stopped more than six months ago.

Yet for dozens of Puna residents with homes or farms in at least two kipuka — isolated pockets of land surrounded by lava flows — the disaster feels like it never ended.

Instead, it has become meshed into their daily routines as they hike in supplies over craggy rivers of cooling volcanic rock, or try to rebuild their lives in other communities, eagerly waiting for the day they can simply drive home.

Those who have returned find a changed landscape, and sometimes destroyed homes or crops consumed by lava flows. But they don’t want to be anywhere else, and they have no interest in waiting.

“We gave up on them getting the road open,” said Michael Gornik, who is living back at his meditation center, known as Polestar Gardens, “and we started doing it.”

He lost his home there from a brush fire sparked by the raging river of lava that flowed past his property on the way to the ocean.

But with an array of solar panels, potable water from a catchment tank and the occasional trip over the flow or helicopter drop for supplies, he has made his collection of small cabins livable once again. Gornik shows no sign of lamenting the loss of his house, and says he is glad to be back, even if there is a “strange apocalyptic feel out here.”

“You can see the ocean from everywhere now,” he points out, after greeting a few neighbors and journalists Thursday at his property. “This is such a different place.”

A road to recovery?

With any luck, Gornik and the handful of others who have already returned to the largest kipuka off Highway 132 — where 56 properties with structures remain cut off — might soon have more company.

While Hawaii County still could be months away from starting to grade a new path over the highway, due to permitting and other requirements, Puna Geothermal Venture is getting closer to allowing access through its site, near the intersection of Highway 132 and Pohoiki Road.

That’s according to Mike Kaleikini, senior director of Hawaii affairs for Ormat, PGV’s owner, who said Friday that a community meeting is tentatively planned for March 22 in Pahoa.

He said the meeting will provide an update on restoration of the power plant, sandwiched between the main lava channel and a string of fissures from the eruption, and address liability waivers residents would have to sign to use its road.

From there, residents would traverse unpaved roads and easements until they reach the highway.

Resolving liability for PGV and the owner of the land, Kapoho Land &Development Co., as well as gaining a new grubbing and grading permit, are reasons the road to the kipuka hasn’t been completed yet, Kaleikini said. PGV re-established access over the lava channel with its own road in December.

“We’ve been working on the road” to the kipuka, he said. “We still have some more work to do be done. We want to make sure the road is done also by then.”

At the latest, the road could be open for use a week or two after the meeting, Kaleikini estimated.

That would come just in time for Ingrid Webb, who is planning to move her family — including four children ages 1 to 9 — back to their farm off Highway 132, with or without road access.

She said the house they are staying in is up for sale, and their housing aid from the Federal Emergency Management Agency ran out months ago.

“We’re really down to no options but moving back to the farm,” Webb said.

She said they will be self-sufficient with water catchment and solar power, and plan to helicopter in supplies once a month if a road still hasn’t been built. In the meantime, they’ve already been flying in fertilizer needed to keep their tree orchard producing.

Oshi Simsarian, who has been living back in her home off and on for months, said residents can’t wait much longer for road access.

“The problem is homes reach a tipping point,” she said.

Not all the homes that were out of the flow’s path have survived.

Several were burned by brush fires, leaving behind twisted piles of metal and debris surrounded by a lush green landscape that has since recovered.

An abandoned bicycle with burnt tires along the highway or torched cars provide the only other signs of the fire that was left unchecked, adding to the post-apocalyptic scenery.

In many places, nature is already taking over, with parts of Highway 132 being slowly engulfed by encroaching tall grass. Wild pigs are seen roaming freely, as well as the occasional feral farm animal.

The resourceful residents get around on foot, bike or by driving cars that survived the fires and lava flows. Fuel has to be carried or flown in.

They also rely on the kindness of the owners of property they have to traverse.

Most go through property owned by Jennifer and Rusty Perry, whose farm was partially covered by the lava flow, and Kapoho Land &Development Co., the largest landowner in the area.

The Perrys see about 20 people cross a week, and are happy to help.

“I feel like a train station,” Jennifer Perry commented.

Residents take unpaved roads connected, and still maintained, by the county as evacuation routes during the eruption.

“Civil Defense has been really helpful with getting people over the flow,” she said.

Closer bonds

The isolation also brought the neighbors closer together. With a trip to the store requiring a hike over the lava flow, plus a long drive through back roads and papaya fields, they rely on each other for assistance.

“That has been one of the beauties,” Simsarian said. “I’ve gotten to know neighbors I didn’t know.”

But the lack of progress with the county recovering Highway 132 has left her feeling cynical.

Mayor Harry Kim has called restoring access over the road a No. 1 priority.

So far, county officials have not offered residents a timeline for when work could begin.

When asked for an estimate, Barett Otani, an executive assistant to the mayor, said in an email that depends on permits. Those can no longer be waived after Kim’s emergency declaration ended in January.

Otani said the project would require a grading permit, National Pollution Discharge Elimination System permit, and potentially a special management area permit for clearing near the intersection with Government Beach Road.

The county also is asking the Federal Highway Administration to cover the cost of the entire project, which it estimates could be $2 million.

That means the county needs to comply with requirements set by the National Environmental Policy Act, for which it is seeking an exemption.

The federal funding for the temporary road also hinges on an “alternative study” that also will look at the feasibility of restoration, said Public Works Director David Yamamoto. He estimated that could be done in the summer.

Depending on its findings, the county might need to pay for the road, Yamamoto said.

While grading won’t begin until that study is done, he said the county is moving forward with the permits and survey work at the same time.

It wouldn’t be the first temporary road the county has built over the lava flow.

Last December, the county graded a road over the narrowest lava-covered sections of Highway 137 between MacKenzie State Recreation Area and Isaac Hale Beach Park.

That road, which crosses less than a mile of lava flows, allowed the county to reopen Isaac Hale and provide access to homes and farms in the area, including the lower portion of Pohoiki Road.

The road cost about $190,000, and the county is seeking reimbursement from FEMA for 75 percent of the expense.

About 3 miles of Highway 132 is covered by lava, in depths ranging from 30 feet to more than 60 feet in areas. Only 1.7 miles is needed to cross to reach the kipuka.

Kim said he sees “no comparison” in re-establishing road access over Highway 132 versus that section of Highway 137 in terms of cost and danger.

The latter also was done without the need for permits since it occurred under the emergency declaration.

The mayor said he didn’t extend the declaration after January because cancelling it wouldn’t affect anyone’s requests for federal assistance.

The eruption, which began May 3 in Leilani Estates, destroyed more than 700 homes — including about 200 primary residences — and covered 13.7 square miles before Sept. 5, when lava was no longer visible in the fissures.

Kim also has said that no infrastructure would be restored until after April 5, when his six-month waiting period ends. That period started Oct. 5, when the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory reduced its alert level for Kilauea.

He said the temporary road was built to Isaac Hale anyway in order to allow Puna residents, who lost other beach parks, tide pools and warm ponds from the eruption, to return to the ocean.

“I feel it was very important,” Kim said, to bring something positive back to their lives. “The ocean is part of them.”

He has faced criticism for the six-month waiting period, which he based off advice geologists gave him in 1990 during the eruption that covered Kalapana, for being arbitrary. Kim agreed that it is.

But the mayor, a former Civil Defense administrator during past eruptions, said it’s still based on what he thinks is best for ensuring safety, and the eruption doesn’t restart.

HVO has noted no signs of the eruption returning, and that it could be considered over after three months of no activity.

Kim said the county in the meantime is doing as much preliminary work to restore access over Highway 132, including aerial surveys.

“I know people are anxious,” he said. “We are trying to expedite it as fast as we can.”

Yamamoto said the surveys cover other county roads inundated by lava, including Highway 137 and Pohoiki Road. Full restoration of all county roads covered by lava could cost $170 million, he said.

Several more homes are located in an isolated kipuka off Pohoiki Road. It remains unclear when road access for them could be re-established, though Yamamoto said it will likely be the next priority after Highway 132.

Kim, during an interview last week, wasn’t keen on using county funds to repair the rest of Highway 137, where the thickest lava flows are located. About 4 miles of that road was covered in total.

A return to Vacationland?

“It’s very, very questionable whether government reinvests in that road,” he said, referring to the northern section where Kapoho Vacationland and other coastal subdivisions were located.

Kim himself lost a secondary home there, where the majority of homes destroyed by the eruption were located, but he questioned what people who want to return have to go back to.

After all, the famous tide pools are gone, and another 875 acres of new land was created, extending the ocean away from their properties. The subdivision roads were private, leaving property owners with a hefty bill if they want to rebuild on what is now a desolate volcanic landscape.

Jan Marshall, who owned a home in Vacationland, said she and other former neighbors are up to the task, assuming the county rebuilds its road.

“More and more people are talking about it,” she said, regarding returning.

“We have been looking around the Big Island, and we’ve concluded that we want to restore Vacationland.”

The owners are seeking loans from the U.S. Small Business Administration and grants from FEMA to help them restore their infrastructure, Marshall said.

When asked about those efforts, Kim said he wants them to “know all the risks before they go back.”

What parts of the eruption area get rebuilt and to what extent could depend on a long-term recovery plan.

Ron Whitmore, county Research and Development deputy director, said the county is seeking to hire a consultant for that work. He said it would involve additional community input, and could be done by the end of the year.

Email Tom Callis at [email protected]. from Hawaii News – Hawaii Tribune-Herald https://ift.tt/2EO0Gmw

#Hawaii Tribune Herald

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theticklishpear · 6 years ago

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Hi Pear! I have a question for you. I saw a while back an ask about founding a kingdom? I wanted to know if you would have any advice regarding founding a kingdom with a stolen artifact from the old kingdom? To clarify, my store revolves around a young woman who ended up with a ring that reflects a persons divine right to rule, only the goddess who first granted the kingdom the ring has decided to forsaken it as they forsook her. So MC gets ring and has to run for her life+ group of friends (a)

who are helping her have to run too. I’m debating having a border duchy/county/barony support her and become kinda the basis of operations? Idk I really just need advice I guess? The goddess helps them along a bit, and I really want my MC to kinda be forced into the role I guess? It isn’t something she wants and she thinks she’s going to be awful at it, but ancient goddesses are hard to ignore. I really appreciate anything you can help me with!!!!! forgot to mention it’s set in a hybrid renaissance/medieval world worth strong Italian points. Mostly bc I just really love Italy. Thank you again!!!!

(ask referenced, I think)

Hi there! I’m going to start off by doing some inferring about the situation so frame my own understanding--hopefully I’m getting things right, or if not, at least sparking some thoughts for you. This is long, and I apologize. You’ve got a lot of moving parts here!

In your world, gods are real. And I don’t just mean that people believe in them, but that they are corporeal entities who can choose to be physically present in your world. They actually exist outside of people’s beliefs. A particular goddess has historically been occasionally present in the Original Kingdom, and at one point bestowed a ring to them which was to indicate that an individual had her favor to rule. At some point and for some reason, the Original Kingdom decided the favor of a goddess wasn’t sufficient or an acceptable way to choose their leadership and so ceased to believe in the ring’s indication of the right to rule.

What caused this? Was it a wholesale split between the people and the goddess? Do they no longer believe the goddess exists, or were they more interested in establishing separation of church and state? Was the ring lost and they had to make do with a different system for choosing rulership that they no longer recognize the ring’s meaning? Have they begun to believe in different gods and goddesses, leaving worship toward this goddess particularly diminished? Is it just the Original Kingdom’s authority figures who have left the goddess behind, or is it the entire population?

You say: “...a ring that reflects a person’s divine right to rule, only the goddess who first granted the kingdom the ring has decided to forsake it as they forsook her.” What does “it” refer to? The Original Kingdom or the ring? I assume it means that she’s forsaken the Original Kingdom, since later you say that the goddess has been helping along your main character and her friends, but I’m not sure.

What does the Original Kingdom look like (in terms of culture) since they’ve forsaken this goddess? How have they changed? What did their beliefs and culture look like when they were still following her? How long has it been since they decided to break with the goddess?

I know that’s a lot of questions about history in your world, but I think it’ll be important for you to understand so that you can see a couple of important threads for this story. Let’s take a look.

1. The goddess has an agenda.

According to the goddess, the ring’s power and meaning is real. The goddess, while she’s displeased with the Original Kingdom’s actions, still believes in the essential good of its people. That she hasn’t revoked the ring from existing in the world and that she’s assisting those who have it in their pursuit of its original meaning tells me that she still believes the kingdom can be saved. But what does that mean to her?

Why does it matter to her that the kingdom believe in her authority to appoint a ruler? Why is it important to her that this kingdom continuing in the tradition of allowing the ring to symbolize the right to rule? Why doesn’t she just step in physically, remove the ruler she sees as unfit and place the ruler she wants on the throne?

From her perspective, the right of the ring is the right path for the kingdom, and by forsaking it, the Original Kingdom has veered onto the wrong path. What makes her path right? Why is she here? What’s she after? What’s her agenda?

2. The Original Kingdom has an agenda.

Do the authority figures of the Original Kingdom care about the existence of the ring? If they’ve decided not to follow the goddess’s decisions any more about who should rule, how are they handling those who do still believe?

Are they concerned about the ring? Do they know where the ring is? Are they aware that your main character has apparently been chosen by the ring? Are they actively trying to obtain the ring to hide it away or destroy it?

On what basis are they now claiming the right to rule? What made the idea of the ring so distasteful to them? How are they enforcing that belief throughout the kingdom?

What are they doing? What are they up to? Kingdoms never simply exist without striving toward some kind of goal. How is the rulership using their power and resources? What are they doing?

3. The duchy has an agenda.

(I know you haven’t decided what exactly you want it to be/call it, but I’m going to call the place your main character and friends go a duchy for now.)

A duchy (or frankly, any of the other options you listed) are still a part of the Original Kingdom. They’re still under the rule of whoever is on the throne, and the duke’s continued power in that place is dependent upon their power to repel any attacks made by the throne.

If the ruler on the throne got wind of the duke doing something the throne didn’t agree with and wanted to remove the duke from power, it’s possible for the duke to rebel and choose to stay in their land, but then it’s up to the duke to also be able to repel any attacks the throne makes against them.

The duchy is only an effective ally to your main character’s group if the duchy can defend them. That’s a lot of resources and manpower you’re talking about, so what’s in it for the duchy? What’s making them cooperate and help out? What stakes do they have in this fight? What do they want, and how far are they willing to go to help your characters?

4. The population has a say, too.

How much sentiment remains in the population toward the goddess? Are there people who would believe in the legitimacy of the claim of someone coming forward with the ring? The longer it’s been since the Original Kingdom decided to forego the use of the ring, the fewer people will still believe that A) it exists, and B) is legitimately goddess-blessed and still a good way to choose rulership.

Does your main character have a chance of making a claim and being accepted? The answer to that lies not at all with your main character and lies partially with the goddess (and her willingness to step in and act, and what her power is like) and partially with the people. If they don’t believe in her, it’s entirely possible for them to throw their own coup in response.

5. Your main character must make a commitment, one way or the other.

What’s her stance on the goddess? Sure, she’s physically seen the goddess, but does she agree with the goddess’ agenda? Does she agree that the ring is the right way to choose a ruler? Does she think the path the goddess is trying to put the Original Kingdom on is also the right path, like the goddess does?

Regardless of whether she thinks she’ll actually be a good ruler or not, she first has to decide if the premise of this thing is even one she stands behind. And yes, that is a choice. The presence of the goddess does in no way prove that this ring and this path is right for the Original Kingdom. What makes her believe? What future does she see the ring giving the Original Kingdom? How does she come to agree that whoever has this ring should be on the throne?

Only once she agrees to the legitimacy of the ring’s decision can she then begin to understand her own place in all of it. Is she the right person? Maybe not, but was every single one of the previous rulers chosen by the ring perfect or good rulers either? Probably not. Are there people around her who can help her make good decisions and understand the things she doesn’t understand about how the kingdom works?

What happens that helps her come to terms with the fact that she’s been chosen? If she believes that the goddess’ intentions are good for the future of the kingdom, then it follows that she’s been chosen for that same reason: she is good for the future of the kingdom. How can she see that?

What happens or who says what in order to help her understand that despite her feelings of inadequacy, there is reason to believe she will be a force for good. Is being a force for good even important to her? What happens if she says no? Will the ring simply move on to choose someone else? Can she pass the metaphorical cup by?

What kind of message about free will and the power of individual choice are you trying to make with the story?

6. Founding a new kingdom while the original kingdom still exists is unlikely without a bigger, much lengthier battle.

Even if the duchy was able to repel attacks from the Original Kingdom, your main character and her group of friends have many of the same problems as the people in that previous ask linked at the top of this post. They have to have people to rule, which requires accumulating people who believe in the legitimacy of the claim and are willing to put their lives at risk to see it into fruition. The Original Kingdom will always see this New Kingdom as a risk, even when they’re small.

They’re threatening to secede with a whole big portion of land (the duchy) that’s proven itself to be fairly powerful (if it can indeed throw off any attacks from the throne), taking not just the land but also the military, the general population (plus any people who choose to leave the other areas of the kingdom and move to the duchy of the new kingdom in order to support it), and the resources of the area with them.

That’s not a small blow to the Original Kingdom, and the New Kingdom won’t thrive until they’ve dealt a decisive blow or otherwise shown themselves capable of sustaining themselves to force the Original Kingdom to recognize them as their own entity.

Until that happens, they’ll be just trying to survive. They’ll have some advantages over the group in the other ask because they could conceivably (depending on how the story goes) have the framework of the duchy already built for them to use as foundations. They have agriculture already going, they have houses and structures and roads and settlements already established. They actually have borders and land carved out for them.

They’ll probably function very similarly to how the duchy functions in terms of legislation and settling of disputes, but they’ll have some advantages over those trying to establish a kingdom from scratch. They’ll still have to figure out how money, how to handle class or any stratification they wish to continue enforcing, law enforcement in general, and how they’re going to address/incorporate/honor the goddess in with all the new proceedings.

The Kingfountain series by Jeff Wheeler might be of some use to you, too. While certainly not the same, it does deal quite a bit with the right to rule, how physically-present religion plays into that, and personal identity.

I know this is a lot, so take your time sifting through it. Hopefully you’ve already answered some of these questions as you’ve been writing and/or planning, so now it’s just time to think about how it all comes together and be put into practice. Good luck! -Pear

#pear responds #writing #writing tips #plot #posts by pear #Anonymous

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missdreawrites · 7 years ago

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Far Cry 5, and How I Feel a Week after Beating It

@weekend-writer, here we go. Hold on to your butts.

I just recently finished Far Cry 5, and mid-way through the playthrough, someone asked if I thought it was worth the 60$ USD and I had originally said yes. Now, having completed the game, I’m rethinking that stance. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not sorry I bought the game for full price, but I’m definitely a bit - sad over it. So I’m going to go through the game point by point, in a somewhat blistering, disappointed review.

Obviously, beyond the cut, there are SPOILERS ahead.

Let me start this out by saying I enjoyed seventy-five percent of this game. The graphics were amazing, the outposts were all unique, the characters were priceless (fucking Hurk Jr, man, I love him so much and dude, I ran around with a bear named Cheeseburger). The music was fantastic. I loved the theme, and the battle music, and even the scary uber-Christian hymns that played on Eden’s Gate Radio.

Now, for those of you who are looking for a bit of a rundown, the game is about a Rookie Deputy Sheriff - hereby known as Rook for the rest of this review. You play the Rook who goes to Eden’s Gate, an uber Christian cult in the middle of Hope County, Montana. You, Deputy Hudson, Deputy Pratt, and a US Marshall go to arrest the leader of this cult, Joseph Seed.

Like in Far Cry 4, you have a choice in the very beginning of the game. You can choose not to arrest Joseph - though you have to loiter for ten minutes or so as your partners and boss get increasingly angry with you, but eventually the Sheriff decides you’re right, this is not a battle we want to fight, let’s just go. Credits.

However, if you actually want to play the game, you have arrest Joseph and bring him to your chopper, wherein all hell breaks loose, and you crash because of course you do. Joseph Seed tells you that arresting him was breaking the first “seal” and anyone who has watched Supernatural within the last thirteen years knows what that means.

The rest of the events in the game are not all that important to this review, only that Joseph Seed has several siblings that you have to defeat to get to him after you escape and are set loose on the region.

There’s John Seed, a torturer who has Deputy Hudson. He’s obsessed with cleansing people of their sins. There’s Jacob Seed, a war veteran who has so many PTSD issues I can’t actually list them all, and he’s a manipulator who believes the weak should be culled from the herd. He brainwashes you a la Bioshock, only he uses a song to do it. Then there’s Faith Seed, and she’s not actually related to them. She was a junkie who came to Joseph for help, and ended up helping him create Bliss, this hallucinogenic drug that stretches the bounds of reality just a bit too much.

There. Now.

You have to liberate each region (John, Jacob, and Faith respectively) in order to unlock the final confrontation with Joseph. Each region has a bar that has little bubbles on it, once reach those bubbles, those are essentially check points of “pissing off a Seed sibling” and they send Hunters out after you.

1. Mechanic I hate number the first one: the Hunting Party

So you’ve pissed off a Seed sibling! They send a Hunting Party after you. The party arrives - even if you fast travelled to a different region, or even the other side of the map. Or like me, you’re a stealthy snipery jerkface and you kill the entire party undetected as they yell about finding me and “use the Bliss Bullets, John/Jacob/Faith wants ‘em alive!”

I kill all eight of the hunting party, and breathe a sigh of relief. There are no more red markers, Boomer says no one else is around. I venture out of cover.

Blam.

Screen goes wavery, then sparkly. Then Rook falls unconscious. Despite having killed the party, or left the party or hidden, these are scripted events, so I literally can do nothing to save myself. I have to get kidnapped by the Seed sibling, for Plot Reasons.

Annoying but manageable.

2. Mechanic I hate number the second one: The Rook

Unlike in the rest of the Far Cry series, you are not a person. By which I mean, you’re not like Jason Brody or Ajay Ghale, or even Jack. You’re still the Rook, of course but you’re not voiced, you have no personality. You can be male or female, and the only person in the entire game that mentioned my gender as female was freakin’ Hurk.

Your character makes noise - when you’re hurt or falling, you grunt and groan and cry out, but you don’t talk. You don’t emote. You are just a blank canvas. What’s worse, is they didn’t bother recording two sets of dialogue like Bethesda did in Fallout 4.

So all the cultists just call you by a gender neutral sound. “Get ‘em!”/”I saw ‘em over there!”/”I got eyes on the sinner!”

Y’all. Y’all come on.

This is especially hard to stomach when the characters are spewing just the most ridiculous nonsense at you. There’s a moment after you get kidnapped by Jacob, and Joseph is there. He goes on this - truly awful and ridiculous monologue about how he used to be a different person, he was married, a baby on the way. How happy he was. Then there was an accident. His wife died, and the doctors saved the baby but the baby was sick, probably premature, and they said he had to be strong for his baby daughter.

TW: he is not strong for his baby daughter.

The rook doesn’t say a damn thing to this horrible man who admits he killed his baby daughter instead of taking care of her. The rook just watches him, from behind bars. Yo, I was livid. I was like WHAT THE FUCK YOU MURDERER HOW DARE YOU PREACH PEACE but nope. My character was totally silent.

Y’ALL.

3. Mechanic that I hate number the third one: the Ending (collectively)

WARNING: Here be spoilers. If you don’t care about me spoiling the entire ending confrontation with Joseph, keep on reading. Otherwise, feel free to skip down to the conclusion, which I’ve helpfully put in bold.

SO THE ENDING.

After you liberate each region, gather all your Roster, finish your side quests and helping each person you find, Joseph Seed contacts you - he offers to open up his compound so you two can finally have it out. Now, I’ll take this moment to say that I put it off for a bit. I ignored Joseph so I could finish side quests, and my partner, who beat the game two days before I did told me no, go do it, you won’t want to keep playing after. Why waste that time?

I was thoroughly alarmed by that statement. So even though it was almost seven in the morning and I’d stayed up all night to play it, I drove my ass to Joseph’s compound and in a mirror of the very beginning, walked up to the church.

Immediately, I am placed in a cut scene. This has happened a few times throughout the game, Whenever John Seed implored you to say “yes” to whatever tortures he wanted bestow on you, to talking with your allies. However, the length of this cutscene dragged on, until Joseph is done preaching at you.

He says he’ll give you an offer. That despite all you’ve done, despite the fact that you’ve killed his flock and family, he’s going to offer you peace. He’s going to do the “right thing” and offer you peace. You hear something behind you - still in a cutscene - and turn around to see all your friends. The roster you helped out, minus the animals, all Blissed out of their minds (as noted by the glowing cloud around their faces) and leading tied up people into the compound. They aim their guns at Deputy Pratt, Deputy Hudson and the Sheriff, all of whom have been recaptured by the people you thought were your friends. Joseph tells you if you resist, if you don’t choose peace, then you can kiss your friends goodbye.

Then you’re given the ability to choose two options: Resist or Accept.

IF YOU CHOOSE RESIST:

He knocks over some Bliss barrels, and everything gets all kinds of fucked up, and your friends attack Pratt, Hudson and the Sheriff. After you fight off Joseph for a second or two, you’re able to revive them (not a new mechanic, you can revive anyone during the rest of the game) and all four of you start fighting Joseph. You have to fight your roster as well, but once they go down, you’re able to revive them as well - which puts them back on your side. However, Joseph will also try to revive them, which leaves them your enemy.

I guess “killing them” and reviving them is like cognitive recalibration? Either way, once all your roster-friends are revived an on your side, you turn your attention to Joseph and shoot the fuck out of him. It’s real cathartic… until you beat him and are immediately locked into another cutscene.

While Joseph monologues at you, the Sheriff (your boss, essentially) comes up behind him, declares him under arrest, and handcuffs him. Joseph proclaims that another seal has broken, and then the entire screen shakes with some kind of impact. The cutscene shows you, Hudson, Pratt, and the Sheriff a giant mushroom cloud, not too far away from where you are, across the lake.

There’s a moment of shock, and Joseph declares it the end of the world, just like he predicted. He was right, and the end is upon us, etc, etc yadda.

We all run toward a car, with Joseph in tow, and then you’re given control back just long enough to drive helter skelter away from the shockwave, as shit is getting set on fire, until you’re suddenly locked in another cutscene just in time to slam into a falling tree.

The screen goes black and red, as you come to, realizing that Pratt, Hudson and the Sheriff are dead. The car door opens and you fall out, blacking back out. When you wake up again, you’re in a bunker - the same bunker you woke up in before being set loose on the county after the prologue, and who should be with you?

Joseph. Seed.

He tells you that everyone in Hope County is dead, and it’s all your fault, why couldn’t you have just picked peace? But hey, it doesn’t matter - we’re family now and one day, we’ll walk through Eden’s Gate together.

“I am your Father,” Joseph Seed says, leaning back in his seat, and staring at you with those wide eyes. “And you are my Child.” He locks eyes with you, never blinking, as the screen fades to black.

Credits.

I was in fucking shock. According to my partner who was awake on the couch and watching me play through this, I kept clicking my mouse like I was trying to pull my guns to shoot him. Why couldn’t I just shoot him?

Now, I’m willing to admit that a lot that might have been a hallucination - the cutscenes make use of the Bliss (which is hallucinogenic) a lot - even though when you aren’t in a cutscene the drug only behaves that way in the most minorest of ways. I’ve been running through fields of Bliss for ages, and all you get is weird sparkling on the corners of your screen. Sometimes you hallucinate Faith Seed, or animals that aren’t there.

However, ultimately, whether or not it was a hallucination doesn’t matter. Because the credits roll and the game is over. Hope County is gone, your friends, your allies, they’re gone. Your only companion is the man you failed to kill, the man you failed to arrest, and you’ve lost.

You lost.

So, utterly livid, I reloaded my save just before choosing Resist, and instead chose the other option.

IF YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT PEACE:

Joseph lets you go. He monologues a bit more, but he lets you, Hudson and Pratt, the Sheriff, he lets everyone go. You retreat to the edge of the Compound, get into the same truck you’d get into if you chose to resist, and start driving away. The Sheriff talks to you a little and ultimately what he says isn’t important, because the radio turns on, as you drive away.

Remember how I said Jacob Seed brainwashed you.... With a song?

The screen goes red as your character starts screaming, and then the screen goes black.

Roll credits.

The game is over. The last time that song played, when you did Jacob’s Region, you killed one of your allies because he brainwashed you into doing it. The entire lead up to killing Jacob is one big brainwashing suckfest, and you do things you don’t think you’re doing until it’s over.

It’s very, very clear that you’ll kill everyone in that car with you.

You lose. Everyone in that car knows how bad Joseph Seed is, they’re your survivors, your witnesses. The people who could have helped you get more manpower to come back and get rid of Joseph with more than a song and a prayer.

But you kill them. You lose.

Both of these endings mean that the ninety hours I spent playing were useless. Nothing I did mattered. Either the world fucking ends, or you murder the people you spent the whole game trying to save. Nothing you did matter, you made no difference, and you lose.

I have nothing against games where you don’t win. I have nothing against games where the ending message is you lose. I have serious issues with being plot railroaded via cutscene into endings I don’t want. Why couldn’t I shoot Joseph? I shot Faith, and Jacob and John. Clearly due process wasn’t important THEN, so why are we arresting Joseph? He’s a dangerous man who knows how to use a dangerous drug to mind control people - but yeah sure, let’s arrest him.

CONCLUSION:

Am I disappointed I bought the game? No, not really. I’m glad I played.

However, I was left with this - bad taste in my mouth, a little. The endings were lackluster, I feel like a require closure to move on with my life - especially because I beat it a week ago, and I’m still stewing over the ending.

Like the original ending of Mass Effect 3, where I was left in shock, I hope that Ubisoft hears how disappointing those endings were and gives us a miniature DLC (to go along with the three weird ones they already have) that gives us a better option.

To the anon who asked me if it was worth the 60$ USD, I originally answered your ask saying yes, because I loved the game.

I hope you see this, and note that my answer has changed. If you’re a hardcore fan of the series, like me, sure - spend the 60. But if you’re not? If you’re a casual player who just liked the idea of the plot - give it a miss, until the next Steam Summer Sale or Xbox Gold Give Away.

This is a little disjointed, I started it while I was at work and then slept before finishing it but I am free and available for any questions via ask/message system. Anon hate about loving the endings will be added to the fire and will fuel the heating for my house. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

#far cry 5 #far cry 5 spoilers #review #thoughts #SO I HEARD YOU LIKE BLISS #far cry #joseph seed #john seed #faith seed #jacob seed #the rook #shenaniganry

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feelingsdusk-writes · 6 years ago

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Runes and all kinds of things

Chapter 3

Stiles is angry. No, scratch that. Angry doesn’t even begin to cover the way he’s feeling right now. He’s livid with white-hot rage and his fury burns with the power of a thousand blazing suns and he’s outraged and he’s…

“… you know how I feel about her and that she doesn’t want to talk to me, and now I find out that she’s coming here every day? What the hell, man?!��

… going to seriously start considering murdering Scott where he stands if he doesn’t shut up and leave.

“I think I was perfectly clear,” he bites out instead, his jaw beginning to ache with the way he’s clenching it. Because, wishful thinking apart, murdering Scott is not a viable option, if only because he can't get out of bed without help yet. “But in case I wasn’t: get the fuck out of my room and don’t come back.“

“Stiles!”

He grits his teeth. The door is open so he doesn’t want to yell because, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t enjoy causing a scene. Especially so in a public setting where it would reflect badly on his dad, because he’s done enough of that already with the whole Jackson debacle, thank you very much. It doesn't matter if his dad knows the truth now (even if that, admittedly, is a relief), because to the rest of the town the sheriff's son is going down a path of delinquency and if the man can't put his own son on the right track, how can he be in charge of an entire county? Stiles bets there are already countless malicious rumours about why he got shot by Principal Argent (whom they viewed as a very respectable member of the society) and he's not going to add fuel to the particular pyre that is his dad and his reputation. That's what matters right now.

“Are you even listening?!”

From what he has been able to discern from Scott’s ramblings, he had been waiting to find Stiles alone so he wouldn’t be kicked out of the room. Normally, Stiles would applaud any kind of sneakiness coming from Scott and consider it a personal achievement... And maybe said sneakiness, his perseverance and a heartfelt apology would have even softened Stiles' stance... Except Scott's original idea of apologizing had quickly flown out the window the moment he had recognized several items in the room to be Allison’s, which made said apology a half-assed one at best.

Now, if Stiles hadn’t wanted to listen to the apology, he sure as hell didn’t want to listen to unfounded and undeserved recriminations. Again, the problem? He can’t move, so he can’t leave. And when he had called the nurse, surprise surprise, it turned out that it was Melissa on call. That hadn’t stopped Stiles from trying to have Scott removed from the premises, but Melissa had basically told them to not bother the staff with petty childish squabbles and to sort things out already.

That was ten minutes ago and no matter what he says Scott won’t leave him alone. He doesn’t seem to understand that a “let’s forget it, ok?” is as insufficient as using a band-aid to patch a severed limb. And that was before his Allison related rant and wild not-so-subtle accusations.

Stiles is at the end of his tether. His father won’t be back for a couple of hours and with how much convincing it took to make him leave to go home and rest, Stiles is not going to call him back. Allison would be able to reign Scott in too, but she's gone for the day, so there won’t be any help on that front. Calling the nurses will probably get him the same results, so that venue is closed too. His body is hurting everywhere with the way he’s tensing and the pounding in his head is getting steadily worse, to the point that he finds it difficult to keep his eyes open more than bare slits. He wants Scott gone.

Now.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Scott is ranting, the next he's not. Out of nowhere a hand clamps like a vice on the back of Scott’s neck, cutting the rambling abruptly in favor of startled spluttering. Said appendage is connected to none other than Peter Hale, who wastes no time unceremoniously sending Scott out of the room with so much ease that it should be considered insulting. The man stands there for no more than three seconds, his back to Stiles, before closing the door quietly. Scott doesn’t try to come in again.

Peter moves through the room like he owns it and Stiles opens his mouth, praying through the haze of pain that when words finally come out of it, they’re at least vaguely sarcastic and scathing and convey how much he didn’t need the rescue (pride over everything and all that jazz). Then Peter closes the curtains and the light goes down a few notches.

Stiles is so not proud of the relieved moan that escapes him.

It takes him a few moments to notice that Peter has sat down on a chair and is now fiddling with the PSP, apparently settling himself in for a lengthy stay. Peter snorts and sends him an amused all-knowing smirk (that, despite the pain, Stiles has the need to wipe off) at the zombies game before putting the device aside. He then fishes a book out of his bag that would have Stiles drooling and making gimme hands at anyone on any good day and, after opening it, he lays a hand casually on Stiles' outstretched arm.

“That’s two, sweetheart.”

(Damn him, some very far away internal voice whines in Stiles.)

The teen grumbles something uncomplimentary but is too busy enjoying the drug-like effect the pain leaching thingie has. That it didn’t even cross Scott’s mind stings a little and he tries not to think about it. Yeah, Scott doesn’t know how to do it, but what hurts here is that he didn't even consider it.

------

When he wakes up the next morning, Peter is gone but the bag is still there, obviously left behind on purpose. It's well within reach and Stiles doubts that's a coincidence. It takes a little effort to lift it onto the bed but he manages it eventually. When he opens it, the only thing that stops him from making an embarrassing hight-pitched sound is his father’s prone figure on the chair. He’s torn between giddy elation at the contents of the bag and exasperation at the werewolf's gall, because those books are either a bribe to get something or he's trying to butter up Stiles, there's no doubt about it.

About an hour later, during which he divides his attention between the books and Lucía Paola's misadventures, Allison arrives. His father takes advantage of her presence to hit home again after some nagging from Stiles. Allison, for her part, seems to lose part of her facade when John leaves, anger and frustration seeping through the placid mask. Stiles is pretty baffled because it's a great contrast with her previously calm attitude, just the day before. One doesn’t need to be a genius to guess where Scott went after being kicked out. After some time in comfortable silence, she finally sighs.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess” she drawls laying her chin on the palm of her hand, “and think that yesterday Scott gifted you with a visit as delightful as mine, yes?” Stiles’ lips twitch. “Or at least that’s what I got out of the load of self-righteous bullshit he was spouting after I told him how you helped me when Gerard tried to get me out of the way.“

And right there, stated with just one word, lies the problem and they both know it. Self-righteous. Scott doesn’t feel he’s done wrong or that he should have done things differently. He thinks that going behind everyone’s back was justified because it was for a good cause (be it defeating Gerard or getting Allison back or being cured) and that because of that everything is right.

In Allison’s case, does he think he’s pressuring her with his attitude? What? Of course not! He’s just letting her know that he still loves her and that he’ll wait for her and that he doesn’t blame her because he understands completely… But the thing is Allison does feel she’s to be held accountable for what she’s done. Because she tried to punish people that didn’t deserve it, because she let herself be manipulated and did horrible things. And Scott may be able to live with it but she can’t. Besides, the way he puts her on a pedestal makes her uncomfortable and stressed because it’s like she has to be perfect to match his view of her, which sometimes makes her feel terribly inadequate and insecure. In a way that is what’s so relaxing for her about Stiles. There are no expectations, just an easy companionship where they both acknowledge the other’s bullshit even if they don’t always call it. Also, to be honest, the way Scott sometimes favors her in detriment of others leaves her with secondhand embarrassment and the need to apologize on his behalf.

In Stiles’ case, does he feel bad about him getting hurt? Yes, of course, but not in the sense of feeling responsible. And Stiles does believe he’s partly to blame because by not keeping him in the loop and actively omitting things and lying, Scott left him vulnerable, left him blind. But to be honest that’s not what bothers him the most, his fucked up priorities are. Before, he expected Stiles to understand and agree when he put his mother first, which, okay, yeah. But the problem is that nowadays everything goes before Stiles: his mother, Allison, Isaac, his wolfy problems, his dates… He calls because he’s trying to keep Derek and himself floating above eight feet of water while the kanima prowls around? Stiles, I can’t right now! I’m having dinner with my future in-laws, can’t you see this is important?! He tries to find a way to cope with the fact that he’s basically destroyed his father’s career with the added bonus of what’s left of his relationship with him? Dude, I can’t believe my mother punished me! I had a date with Allison! What a drag… can you come over to hear me complain about it for hours while you try to force Physics theory down my throat so I don’t flunk? She didn’t say no Stiles after all. Bottom line, either Scott takes him for granted or he feels that Stiles owes him because he got him bitten. And if it’s the second, is he planning on milking it for the rest of his life? Don't get him wrong, Stiles acknowledges his part of the blame in that, but he also sees that Scott got a lot out of it. But then again Scott takes that for granted too, like it’s some sort of compensation for the terrible thing that is not being human anymore. Is it a wonder that he rubs the born wolves entirely wrong with that kind of attitude?

For whichever of those reasons it is, the truth is that both Allison and Stiles concur in that he needs a good reality check.

“Did Peter Hale really threaten him?” she murmurs as her attention gets caught on Marco Enrique's shirtless form as he tends to the horses. She lets out an appreciative hum and Stiles sniggers when that interested look turns into a frown because the view gets interrupted by Mariana Estrella.

“More like tossed him out of here and glared… looked at him," he inserts a Superman eye powers motion with his hands, "intensely into submission. From what I saw, Peter probably doesn’t think him enough of a challenge to deserve a full glare.“ He snorts before groaning. “He implied I owe him. Again,” he whines despairingly as he throws an arm over his face.

He then grumbles mutinously and gives her a dirty look at her snickers when he finally tells her what happened exactly, one of the books clutched in his hands. To her credit, she doesn’t comment about Peter’s presence more than to wonder with Stiles about the man’s intentions. There’s a silent offer of assistance in retaliation if he attempts anything funny that makes him feel warm inside, though.

“If it makes you feel better, I tasered Scott yesterday,” she finally admits, a hint of regret in her voice, because he was her first love and that doesn’t disappear just like that, no matter how much she has tried to lie to herself since her mother died.

After a second, they both cackle helplessly.

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#runes and all kinds of things #teen wolf fics #my writing #teen wolf #steter

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stone-man-warrior · 4 years ago

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November 25, 2020: 3:52 pm:

Josephine County Courts terror cell, Tax Assessor Attack, update:

Mr. Marx called again today, so, I called him back to make the appointment they claim they need for the bogus tax assessment. Mr. Marx referres to an assessment as “An Inspection“.

This attack scenario reminds me that the Sheriff Deputy I mentioned who is also Jeffrey Marx, may have introduced himself as “Deputy Mark Ross” that day, a twist on the name Marx, is Mark Ross when the X is a cross.

So I talked to Mr. Marx today. There is a lot of bullshit being tossed around from the county assessor, and it’s very clear that the Tax Assessor terror team has done this kind of attack scenario so many times that they have encountered every kind of resistance to it imaginable, so, Mr. Marx is like Johnny on the Spot with all of the right things to say to make the attack characteristics seem as a legitimate official process, all is the approved way business is done at the assessor, making Mr. Marx an innocent person who is just doing his job.

I advised of the danger, told Mr. Marx that he is not fooling me by pretending he is not aware of the danger, that the county is so dangerous that the reason the house in question is incomplete is because of the danger that exists in the county, that he might be shot at by the neighbor, and that I am shot at by the neighbor regularly, and more. Mr. Marx has all of the right things to say that justify the need for the assessment. I reminded him that he does not need an appointment and has easement rights to all of the assessed properties in the county. He replied to that by saying since I have a gate, that prevents easement access, that he respects the gate, and is bound to respect the gate, per Oregon legislation, which differs per state when there is a gate, he said.

The Courthouse terror cell is working a plan the claims I don‘t have a building permit for construction of the home that is not complete. I do have a building permit, it cost about $1,800 as I recall.

So, repeated different similar attacking from the court terror cell has consistently claimed that I don‘t have a building permit, when I do have one. In the past, the terror bastards have demanded that I show a permit, to people who are not county Building & Safety representatives, but are rather just “The People Who Show Up” to attack. I always deny access to my permit, it’s mine, is not for public access to thugs.

So, I felt on the phone call as if a number of different set-ups for different outcomes was being done by Mr. Marx, AKA: Sheriff Deputy Mark Ross. Had I insisted on a specific time and day, that makes me a bad guy, they would say I made a time that put the assessor in danger, and that I was there to hurt him waiting at that time. So, I refrained from saying a specific time or day, I have played this game before, it’s all a set-up to murder me.

I discussed a open opportunity for the assessor to do as he sees fit, within a reasonable and agreed upon time limit, and that it’s dangerous, that I don’t want to talk to him, or open the gate, so he agreed that he is able to walk the 200 feet or so to look at the unfinished house.

Later, about 45 minutes ago, I took a walk to the road. Someone driving Burton Mitchel Dietrick’s ten yard dump truck was sitting in it, idling at the Clyde Baum terror cell at 333 Jackpine waiting for me to go check my mail, when I took a few steps toward the mailbox, that is when the ten yard dump truck came down the road, to run me over, from Clyde’s house. I stepped the fuck back to clear the way for the Josephine County Courts Road Crew of terror in the truck.

He drove by, I could almost hear the sound an Ox makes.

I tried again to check the mail.

That is when someone driving one of the Myers terror cell vehicles came down the road, also looked like was staged not far from Clyde’s house, just about at 315 Jackpine is where that one seemed to have come from.

I decided to skip the mail checking, and wait until there are fewer terror bastards from the County Courts trying to run me over. (tumblr made the text small, I had nothing to do with the font size change, is Centurylink generated terror to fuck with me when I write.

Stay tuned, the Tax Assessor attack scenario is not over until the appraisal is put back the way it was before, or, better yet, when it’s done correctly. As it stands now, they are forcing me to pay tax on something I cannot use, due to the county conditions being so dangerous that it’s not possible to complete the work without being killed. There should be no tax assessed value on that structure until the final inspection from Building & Safety is done, until then, such unfinished structures are a liability, and deplete the assessed value of the rest of the subject property, not increase it. I have been paying tax on that incomplete structure since the first year, since the time the foundation was poured. The structure is not a house until an address for it is generated, right now, that house has no address, but one is available at the house I was replacing, and is planned to be repurposed as some other use, one without an address.

End terror update: 4:41 pm.

Additional for nsa to be informed with some truth to help figure out who is who, and what is what:

I don‘t like that I feel I need to spell everything out, but I will.

I have two real, certified, bonefied, approved, stamped, accounted for street addresses that both exist on one single county tax lot, because both addresses were issued by the US Postal Service at a time before there was a Department of Zoning or Building & Safety. I purchased my property with those conditions in place, two addresses, two individual and separated single family dwellings, both are conventional framed. There came a time when I chose to build a new house for my family. There is room for it, it fits, it satisfies all of the county requirements, and is DEQ certified with it’s own separate septic system. The idea is to replace the smallest of the two existing homes, with one that is new, modern, nice, and is designed the way I want it. The end result would be that the address that goes with the smallest home, would go onto that new home, and the old small house could be a guest house, or music studio, or art studio, or storage, or a place to keep chickens. I did not come up with any permanent plan for what to do with that old small house, I only know that the address will go to the new house that replaces it, and the kitchen sink and plumbing at the kitchen will have to be removed. That is all OK and, in Josephine County, we are permitted to remove, remodel, or replace our dwelling units as we see fit as long as all of the county requirements are met, I am replacing an existing house with a different house, one that is built in a different location, on the same property, all of the requirements to do that were met, and were done at a time before the Courts, Zoning Office, Building & Safety, DEQ, Department of Human Services, Department of Health Services, DMV, County Sheriff & Jail, County and State Departments of Forestry, Parks & Recreation, Services for Elderly & Disabled, Water Master, Sewage Treatment Department, The Dog Catcher, and all of the other state and county offices of government were hijacked by the Canadian terror army.

now there is a Department of “Crisis Resolution Center” and “Options of Southern Oregon“. Those places are offices where special circumstance is dealt with by the terror army. Crisis Resolution Center is a place where all of the other county offices can use as a means to develop plans to eliminate problems faced by the Canadian terror army. The CRC and “Options” is operated by Asante Health, and serves as a go-to agency solving problems that the terror occupied county offices may have, such as the presence of Federal Agents in Josephine County. When that happens, CRC is contacted, where a plan is developed, to eliminate the Federal Agents in some way.

So, my plans to replace a small house with a larger one were fouled up by the terror take-over of the county of Josephine, and are further fouled up by the subsequent terror occupation of the entire state of Oregon, and now are completely fouled up because the terror army ran me over with a truck in 2012, and I have a spinal cord injury now. I was a disabled man to start with for other reasons at the time the bastards ran me over, now, I am all different kinds of broken, and will not be able to complete that home on my own within any amount of time.

5:54 pm.

The Crisis Resolution Center is “The Head Bus”. When you read on this account the times when I say: “Don‘t get on the bus, never get on the bus”

The Crisis Resolution Center is like “The Mother of All Buses”.

Very scary place is CRC.

They are the people who are responsible for crafting the most wicked of the killing machines that are used for the mass murder. I will list some, but this post is very dangerous for me, I have absolutely no help when they come as a result of reporting the problems in the only way there is to report, here, on tumblr through a hijacked Centurylink ISP that has all of the phone lines scrambled, the wires in the ground are connected to the wrong terminals in the service boxes that compose the service area. All of them. not just a few phone lines on the wrong terminals, but the entire county was purposefully made to have the Centurylink ISP main map of service, lead investigative people to other addresses than those that the map at Centurylink says they go to.

Contraptions that are managed by CRC include: A steel razor blade slide, about 15 feet tall, is sharp, people forced to ride the slide, is for SAG entertainment for ClubMed Junket members.

Pneumatic Guillotine, is for general use to kill people as they walk through a doorway, is portable, looks like the kind of anti-theft frame that is used at big shopping centers, is a killing machine, motion sensor power Ram driven, runs on 110v outlet.

In the building at CRC there is sometimes a big, glass jar, looks like a 7 foot tall jelly jar w/lid. People are hoisted into the giant jar, there was a naked female in it when I saw it each time. Once in the CRC building near the movie theater off of Union Ave. Two times I have seen that thing while on the I-5, it was on a big rig trailer with a victim naked female inside each time.

There is a giant “Birthday Cake”, is three layers of iron, about 12 feet diameter, looks like a big iron wedding cake, is used with very large construction crane to drop from above onto small groups of people, is for entertainment, there are bleachers where SAG Members sit on to watch the show, the crane is called “Pete’s Dragon“ and says so right on it in big letters. Is a 200 foot crane w/tracks & turret style, yellow. Pete’s Dragon is broken now, I had opportunity to break it, so, it’s broken.

There was a giant size magnifying glass they use in July - August, about 12 feet diameter, about 8 inches thick centrally, is optically correct for a magnifying glass, thin around the edge, is hoisted from a crane, aimed at victims in cars in a parking lot, I saw it at Bi-Mart, and had opportunity to break it, so, it’s broken now.

There is a full size Trebuchet, is used to hurl people downrange, has a “Toledo” brand meat scale built onto it, is used to trim the ammunition to a desired throwing weight, the people are alive when they are thrown, so, it uses live ammunition, is for SAGClubMed Junket entertainment. SAG members make bets about hitting a target, there is a team of Trebuchet operators who are very good at operating the Trebuchet. The victims are trimmed to about 65 kilos for most tosses, has a range of about 1,000-1,500 feet.

There are more, that is all I care to say, I have explained it all before, no help ever comes.

All of that is part of Crisis Resolution Center and Options of Southern Oregon.

6:55 pm.

Josephine County Courts terror cells are able to make very large and precise solid glass objects. That should narrow the source of the glass contraptions down considerably. I suspect that nasa oriented contractor companies could make such large precise glass items.

I also saw two cymbals, musical instrument brass cymbals on a flat car of a train on the train tracks parked at the Blue Star Propane across from The Moose Lodge in Merlin Oregon once. They were standing on edge on the freight car, about 12 feet diameter, I don’t know how they kill, but I am certain they are part of the SAGClubMed Junket.

I saw a giant size killing machine in action at the Denver Colorado International Airport, the new one with that blue horse statue out front. The contraption is part of the building there at the terminal, a recessed area centrally in the building, has escalators and an attendant at each escalator to make sure no SAG members go down there accidentally, they ask everyone “Are you SAG?” and advise those who say “Yes” to go a different way. People go down there, then there is a loud horn sound like the kind at a mine for warning that the thing is about to begin, there are places at the perimeter walls where enormous amount of water suddenly and swiftly is pumped into that recess area, there is a drain, and everyone and everything there goes swirling around and down the drain.

There is at least one cruise ship that has the same thing, is smaller, a swimming pool on the top deck is emptied while people are in the pool. There is some video’s of that one on Twitter that were shown at the start of Corona Virus around February. The news showed a helicopter bringing a very small “Testing Kit” to the boat. They did not show that it is a killing machine, so, you have to have a close look at the layout of the pool and the railings, and just have to figure it out that they are showing a contraption with news about testing kits on a Cruise Boat. A man repelled from a helicopter onto the top deck of a cruise boat, there was a red X on the deck to mark the place where the repel was to happen. The boat is a sparsely featured boat, has a weird vibe, is not a high luxury looking boat like most are, but is big and serves as a cruise boat.

==================================

County Court Terror Cell Tax Assessor attack update 11-26-2020 additional info 4:55 pm:

These are two of four photos I just now took of the incomplete house structure project that was stopped due to terror take over of the county, making it too dangerous to continue with the project.

I am not able to send the other two photos I took to my email addy for posting here, the terror bastards all started making a lot of racket around me when someone hiding in the creek saw the I was taking the photos, so, I suspect some local authorities are claiming that the structure of subject is some other buiding someplace else, this is my home project, and the terror army is blocking the text capability to send the other two photos from the phone to the email, it’s the only way I can retrieve the photos from the phone, and they shut that feature off, by putting a bug in the cell phone that makes it think the outgoing text messages are too full, preventing the text photos from being sent. So, for now, I have these two I can show that were taken today, or, I can show others that were taken at some other time in the past, but that won’t work for explaining anything, the photo needs to be fresh. I’ll try again later to show the front and other side, you are seeing the southwest side, and the back of the house, the southeast side. The house is situated in reverse of the road front, where the back of the house is nearest the Jackpine, because my property is arranged that I have my own cul-de-sac.

I have been refraining from showing that building for fear of terror soldiers doing harm, or making it easier for them to find my home, but, by now, all of the terror already knows where I live, the only people who don‘t know are the nsa fools who keep trusting the local authorities.

Update again, the other two photos from this afternoon 11-26-2020 Thanksgiving Day:

I had to erase some other photo texts that are all evidence of terror in my phone but are not smoking gun evidence, but rather supporting photos that help to explain the smoking guns that the terror is composed of around here.

This is the northeast side, nearest Jackpine, nearest the Monroe terror cell:

And this is the front, faces northwest.

Approximately 2,600 Square feet, two story home, has three bedrooms, two and one-half bathrooms w/laundry.

Is not done, you see the white vapor barrier is getting old, there are no railing on the wrap around porch and the lumber I already had cut for most of that has rotted away from exposure over too much time stacked up in the rain and sun. In fact there is about ten thousand dollars worth of lumber outside that has rotted because I had what I needed to continue at the time the assassins began to show up everyday, so, all of that is ruined from exposure.

There are doors and windows on it, the doors were the last thing I was able to do, and I had to dodge the terror bastards to put them on in 2010ish.

The walls inside are not covered, just the wall frame is there. Some insulation is in upstairs, and the subfloor insulation is there, but most is not installed, I have all of the insulation necessary for the building, but it’s too dangerous to do work there.

All of the rough plumbing is done and inspected, signed off. Some electric is upstairs, most is not installed.

There are no finished surfaces anywhere on that structure. There are no fixtures installed anywhere, everything is still in rough frame condition.

Good news is the doors and windows are installed.

That is all I am willing to share about that. I suspect that some other structure is being shown to US nsa somewhere to discount the reports of terror that I make here, in some way.

5:55 pm.

====================

More update 6:30 pm:

This is would be a real good time to catch and round up terror bastards from SAGClubMed music industry at Vatican Choir Hollywood Command HQ. They really want my property real bad, and have been wanting to take it for many years, hundreds of famous musicians have died here while trying to kill me to take my property for a nice addition to the local “SAG House” portfolio, which already includes 434 Monroe, 520 at Mystery Pot Grower Lady, 598 Manning SAGClubMed, Sparacino 545, and Crowel I think made a whopping addition recently with a very nice new home at 549 Jackpine, and the Strong terror cell at 3747 Russell Road, and more, are already part of the “SAG House” line-up locally. The “SAG Houses” serve as “off the radar” places for SAGClubMed Junket members to stay while here in Josephine County on heroin drug induced mass murder fest.

There are many more added to the portfolio on regular basis.

After I put those photos, moments later, Zzounds Music and Best Tronics Pro-Audio both sent terror email promotions where you can almost feel the drooling dripping from the advertisements in them.

So, US nsa has a golden oportunity right now to see who is who, and what is what with SAG ClubMed terror.

6:43 pm.

====================

7:05 pm 11-26-2020 other reminder: What I said above about the Denver Airport is real. I explained some of what I remember from seeing the thing do what it does. Screen Actor Guild has it worked out where the enormity of their Union, and the nature of their professions of entertainment where they are free to create wild and complex ways to entertain the public, are used as cover for the mass killing that they do.

That contraption is a SAG product, concocted by a very sick group of people who have way too much money, and have been spoiled with a lifetime of entitlements to get away scott free even when they are caught red handed doing crime. The perpetuation over time of ever increasing complexity within the movie plots, stories, screenplays, has spilled over from the movie screen into real life, so much so, that they were able to incorporate a giant size toilet into the design of the Denver Airport for murder of travelers who use the airport.

Eye-witnesses see the thing working, they see a flood, and people swept away inside the building at the airport, but when they call 911 Emergency no matter what city they call from, this is the report: “Hi, yeah.... uhhh, I just saw a horrible thing, at the airport, .... the water came out of the wall... a lot of water.. it was fast and the people... those poor people couldn‘t get out of the way, they all just.... disappeared... were gone. Then the water was all gone. There were police all over the place... but... they just watched. Please help.”

The contraption is so real, no one will believe that it’s there long enough to understand that even if someone sent a few investigators to have a look, the enormity of that installation and the money and power that those people at SAG have, is exactly the reason why you cannot expect that a small team of investigators will survive that inspection. Too Big To Fail is more than handing out billions of dollars from the treasury, Too Big To Fail is a social condition that happens when the terror is so enormous that only an army can stop it, and that army needs to be there to see it work, not just four guys looking for a plumbing leak.

The eye-witnesses are rarely taken seriously. If they are listened too, the 911 emergency is the wrong agency, are not equipped for that kind of investigation, and certainly cannot stop the thing without an army. You have to consider the number of people who built it, planned it, approved it, funded it, inspected it, tested it, and protect it’s existence at the airport.

Don‘t just send four guys to look for a plumbing leak, that’s not it.

7:31 pm.

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newyorkprelawland-blog · 4 years ago

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The (Un)Constitutionality Of The American Bail System

By Paloma Castillo, Columbia University Class of 2021

June 14, 2020

The May 25th death of George Floyd in the custody of Minneapolis police officers has been considered the straw that broke the camel’s back: :all 50 states and nearly 20 countries have erupted in protests against racism and police brutality [1]. As the protests have continued for almost two weeks, thousands of protestors have been and continue to get arrested for a variety of misdemeanors [2]. Organizations like the Minnesota Freedom Fighters and the Chicago Community Fund have received a rapid influx of donations to help post bail for them [2]. Though some of these protestors have experienced injustices such as bail-doubling, thanks to the increased bail fund donations, most of them will not be detained pretrial for long [3]. However, even though the donations have eased the burden of cash bail on those exercising their rights and demanding change, they are not a long-term solution. Moreover, the increased attention and resources that have been directed towards freeing protestors in this past week, though helpful, have not benefited the rest of the individuals detained due to their inability to post bail. Unsurprisingly, the cash bail system in the United State has historically and disproportionately affected poor people of color, and is therefore an extremely relevant issue given the current events [4]. I believe that now is the time for the bail reform movement to capitalize on the increased resources allocated to bail funds and the additional outrage directed towards systematic racism that the George Floyd murder has led to. Ultimately, to have a fully informed conversation on legal discrimination, law enforcement, protests, and bail, it is necessary to understand the purpose and legal discourse regarding the cash bail system in the United States.

Currently, about 460,000 individuals who have not been convicted of any crime are detained pretrial in county or city jails at any given moment [5]. These individuals make up nearly 25% of the entire incarcerated population in the US [5]. Over “90 percent of felony defendants who are detained pretrial are eligible for financial bail but have no posted bail” [5]. That means that these individuals are detained not because they are deemed a flight risk or a danger to society, but because they are poor.

When individuals are arrested and charged, they have a pre-trial hearing where a judge decides the conditions of the accused person’s release. Some individuals do not get the option to be released at all - the 8th Amendment “does not establish an absolute right to bail” [6]. The Bail Reform Act of 1984 allows judges to deny release if they consider the accused to be a danger to society or a flight-risk [7].

When judges do not consider it unsafe to release an accused individual into society, the judge can set different conditions on their release. The most common conditions are financial: monetary bail. There are different types of money bail and different ways to pay it, but essentially it means that individuals who have not been convicted of a crime and who are not deemed dangerous have to post bail - pay a certain amount of money - in order to go free until their court date. This is true even for defendants accused of crimes as minor as not having a leash on their dog, driving with a suspended license, or stealing a backpack. The proposed purpose of bail is to make sure that accused individuals go to court for their hearings, with the idea that having skin in the game will increase defendant accountability [7].

This system, however, has some terrible consequences. Unsurprisingly, low income and minority Americans are more likely to be unable to post bail and therefore more likely to be detained than their wealthier counterparts accused of the same crimes. A significant amount of indigent Americans cannot even post the bail amounts that are considered most affordable: from 2008 to 2013 in Philadelphia, nearly 40 percent of those with bail set at $500 or less stayed in jail for at least three days [8]. This puts a significant portion of the American population at risk of unnecessary detainment, and disproportionately affects black and brown Americans, who are more likely to be low-income. As of 2002 (the last time this data was collected nationally), 69% of individuals detained pretrial were people of color [9]. At that time, black people were the most overrepresented, as they made up 47% of this detained population despite only making up 12.2% of the U.S. population [9]. Since 2002, the pre-trial population has exploded (from under to 200,000 to almost 500,000), but “no national data have been collected [since then] to assess how racial disparities have changed”. Even though we do not have this data, state-focused studies seem to indicate that the disproportionate effect of bail on people of color persists today [9].

This ultimately means that freedom is often determined by income, leading poor individuals to sometimes spend years in jail without having been found guilty of any crime (i.e. teenager Kalief Browder spent three years in jail awaiting his trial after being falsely accused of stealing a backpack. During his time at Rikers Island, Browder was starved, tortured, and forced to endure two years of solitary confinement, all without being convicted of any crime). What’s more is that some states have even been found to release wealthier defendants despite being considered a risk to the community because they could post bail, while poorer defendants who were not considered a danger remained detained [10].

Despite how outrageous this seems, there are many who defend the American bail system. It won’t come as a surprise that those benefiting from the billion-dollar for-profit bond industry that has developed as a result of commercial bond payments defend the system (keep in mind that the U.S. is one of the only two countries in the world that has a for-profit bail system). Bail bond companies post a bond on the accused’s behalf (which is a percentage of their bail amount), but require fees and collateral, which pose a great financial burden to many detainees (the “median bail bond represents eight months of income for the typical detained defendant”) [11]. Because these companies benefit from the monetary bail system, they lobby and persuade lawmakers to resist reform.

In addition, there are many who defend the bail system at a constitutional level. Those who point to the eighth amendment in defense of money bail highlight the phrase “[e]xcessive bail shall not be required” [6]. They argue, therefore, that bail is not inherently unconstitutional for being money-based. Instead, it is only unconstitutional if it is not reasonably calculated to ensure the defendant’s appearance at trial” [6].

The problem is that determining when bail is “reasonably calculated” or not “excessive” is incredibly subjective. Many times, judges make decisions regarding release in a matter of minutes, without thoroughly considering the circumstances of the alleged crime. Furthermore, it is often the case that judges decide conditions of release “without inquiring whether the [defendants can] afford to pay and without making any determination that jailing the presumptively innocent [individual] prior to trial [is] necessary to serve any compelling government interest” [12]. As such, thousands and thousands of legally innocent individuals’ constitutional rights are being violated by being required to pay in order to go free.

Even if you could, somehow, objectively define “reasonable” bail amounts (and therefore not violate the Eighth Amendment), the system of monetary bail still threatens the Constitution. The fifth and fourteenth amendments grant the right to due process, which “requires that statutes imposing pretrial detention...do not impose punishment before adjudication of guilt…[and that] government action that deprives an individual of life, liberty, or property must be implemented in a fair, non-arbitrary manner” [6]. Ultimately, the Constitution guarantees that an individual accused of a crime cannot be “deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law” [13]. Unfortunately, it is evident that the American bail system denies Americans of these rights and imposes punishment before adjudication of guilt, while the government actions enforcing this punishment do so in an unfair, arbitrary manner.

Defenders of the bail system argue that pretrial detainment due to the inability to post bail is not intended to punish, and therefore is not in violation of the right to due process. However, such analysis turns a blind eye to the fact that pretrial detainment does punish defendants, even if it is supposedly not intended to. Pretrial detention can make it harder for the defendant to communicate with their counsel to adequately prepare their case [5]. Furthermore, detention can lead to loss of employment, child custody, and housing [8]. In addition, it is associated with higher subsequent conviction rates, which can decrease future wages [5]. To make matters worse, studies have identified alarming trends, including “increasing use of monetary bail, increasing time from arrest to adjudication, and rising median bail requirements” [5]. Experiences with violence and solitary confinement inside jail can also cause tremendous psychological and emotional trauma. As such, arguing that pretrial detainment of those unable to post bail is not intended to punish is a naive argument that divorces supposed intentions from reality. Furthermore, the risk of pretrial detainment does not affect all Americans in a fair manner: it disproportionately affects low-income and minority individuals because it denies them freedom based on the thickness of their wallets.

I’m far from being alone in my outrage over the American bail system. The call for bail reform is getting louder as more and more Americans realize how fundamentally contrary it is to what America says it stands for. A big challenge that advocates face is exactly how to implement reform. Some states call for no detention for minor offenses at all. Others call for a transition to an “unsecured bond” system, which only requires defendants to pay if they do not appear on court dates [7]. The most comprehensive way to reform the system is to allow release for all accused individuals - even those accused of more serious crimes - if they do not pose a flight-risk or threat to the community. Implementing a system of call or text reminders for court dates should be experimented with as a far more just alternative to bail.

And yet I am hesitant to endorse this method of reform wholeheartedly because determining what defendants are “high risk” for not showing up for court can be problematic. While some courts rely on fancy, new risk assessment technology, I find myself among their critics who are concerned that such algorithms may exacerbate some of the problems that already exist in the criminal justice system, such as discrimination against people of color [8]. These tools rely on criminal records and age at arrest, but they often don’t take into account type of arrest or the fact that minority communities are highly policed. As such, the data these algorithms rely on could be highly skewed, causing more disadvantaged defendants to be considered “high risk” than before [8].

Therefore, collaboration and dialogue are more important now than ever, so that as the bail reform movement gains momentum, it does so with a unified purpose. Our goal must be to improve current conditions, while being careful not to rely on the easiest solutions that may inadvertently harm vulnerable populations even more. I think the clear first step, however, is to get rid of the money bail system completely. In United States vs Salerno (1987), the Supreme Court argued that in America, “liberty is the norm, and detention prior to trial or without trial is the carefully limited exception” [14]. As such, no one should be detained, without having been convicted of a crime, for money they have (or don’t have) in their bank account.

________________________________________________________________

Hagemann, Hannah, and Lynsey Jeffery. “George Floyd Reverberates Globally: Thousands Protest In Germany, U.K., New Zealand.” NPR, NPR, 31 May 2020, www.npr.org/2020/05/31/866428272/george-floyd-reverberates-globally-thousands-protest-in-germany-u-k-canada.

Chow, Andrew R. “How Bail Funds Are Working to Release Protesters Nationwide.” Time, Time, 4 June 2020, time.com/5847555/bail-reform-funds-george-floyd-protests/.

Wiley, Kelly. “I-TEAM: Bail Doubling for Some Protesters Arrested over the Weekend.” WJXT, WJXT News4JAX, 2 June 2020, www.news4jax.com/i-team/2020/06/02/i-team-bail-increasing-for-protesters-arrested-over-the-weekend/.

Lockhart, P.R. “‘A Multibillion-Dollar Toll’: How Cash Bail Hits Poor People of Color the Hardest.” Vox, Vox, 6 Dec. 2017, www.vox.com/identities/2017/12/6/16739622/ucla-report-bail-low-income-race.

Liu, Patrick. et. al. “The Economics of Bail and Pretrial Detention.” The Hamilton Project. Economic Analysis. Dec 2018, https://www.hamiltonproject.org/assets/files/BailFineReform_EA_121818_6PM.pdf

“U.S. Constitutional Limits on State-Money-Bail Practices for Criminal Defendants.” Congressional Research Service. Feb 2019, https://crsreports.congress.gov/product/pdf/R/R45533

Neyfakh, Leon. “Is Bail Unconstitutional? Our broken system keeps the poor in jail and lets the rich walk free.” The Slate Group, 30 Jun. 2015, https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2015/06/is-bail-unconstitutional-our-broken-system-keeps-the-poor-in-jail-and-lets-the-rich-walk-free.html.

Wykstra, Stephanie. “Bail reform, which could save millions of unconvicted people from jail, explained: Hundreds of thousands of legally innocent people languish in jails on any given day simply because they can’t afford bail.” Vox Media, 17 Oct. 2017, https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2018/10/17/17955306/bail-reform-criminal-justice-inequality

Sawyer, Wendy. “How Race Impacts Who Is Detained Pretrial.” Prison Policy Initiative, 9 Oct. 2019, www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2019/10/09/pretrial_race/.

Weiss, Debra C. “There is no constitutional right to cash money bail, 3rd Circuit rules.” American Bar Association (ABA) Journal, 9 Jul. 2018, https://www.abajournal.com/news/article/there_is_no_constitutional_right_to_cash_money_bail_federal_appeals_court_r

James, Kayla. “How the Bail Bond Industry Became a $2 Billion Business.” Global Citizen, Global Poverty Project, Inc., 31 Jan. 2019, www.globalcitizen.org/en/content/bail-bond-industry-2-billion-poverty/.

Karakatsanis, Alec. “How America's Bail System Breaks the Promise of the Law.” Time, Time, 16 Dec. 2019, time.com/5749542/cash-bail-impact/.

U.S. Constitution, Amend. 5 & 14

“United States v. Salerno, 481 U.S. 739 (1987).” Justia Law, 26 May 1987, supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/481/739/#tab-opinion-1957133.

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breakingarrows · 6 years ago

Text

Far Cry 5 Review

[This was originally published on VerticalSliceMedia.com in 2018 and is republished from the latest draft I have]

Far Cry 5 Review

I do not like Far Cry 5. My issues with the game are many, and partly already chronicled in my writing about the games endings. My frustrations extend across all aspects from the way you play the game (mindlessly) to the way it presents its fictional cult (vapidly) to the way the game makes the player’s presence known in the world (it doesn't). There is nothing redeeming to be found within the 25 hours I spent in Hope County. The small victories within one-off side quests can’t redeem a game that refuses to engage with anything meaningful or even succeed in hiding its rote systems that have been played out for two games now.

Gameplay Loop

One of the main responses to complaints about the narrative of Far Cry 5 has been to cry, as the Bad End Podcast put it, “the gameplay!” However, even in this regard Far Cry 5 fails.

Each Far Cry game has been about repeating the same series of tasks over an elongated period of time with a drip feed of storylines along the way. Complete main missions and occasionally a named character will appear to spout off some pseudo-intellectual dialogue. Complete side missions and you’ll interact with the zany characters that are meant to entertain you with their characteristics that sure are “out there” amiright? Except that in Far Cry 5 the people you meet and talk at you don’t have interesting things to say. Some even have a pre-filled system for delivering quest locations on your map.

Go up to an NPC with an icon above their head and they will recant you an “A, B, C.” Statement. It usually goes like this, “A was doing this, then B happened. You should check out C.” Sometimes with a few additional flourishes but the basic information stays the same. Clear this outpost, find this prepper stash, rescue these hostages, destroy this building. The delivery system has been tweaked but what you are being tasked with remains the same. All of it is repeated again and again across each of the three areas and with little to distinguish one from the other. Clear an outpost in John’s region or Jacob’s or Faith’s, and the execution, location, and following result are the same. Most all major games are a cycle of gameplay repeated over a period of time, but most have the decency to hide that cycle with variety; Far Cry 5 does not.

Nearly every missions requires you to kill, whether it be cultist or animal, and to travel to a location to do so. Follow the highlighted icon on your display, kill everyone, maybe hold square over a specific item, and mission accomplished. Very little is memorable throughout the game. An early mission in Fall’s End has some entertaining dialogue around the Testy Festy, a gathering of locals to enjoy cooked bulls’ balls. The mission requires you to kill a bull mid-intercourse and freeing the cows beforehand induces a sexy music track to begin playing. This, and Hurk Jr’s comments about making his daddy and mommy compete for his love were the only times I enjoyed my time with Far Cry 5.

Window Dressing

Other characters attempt to be a source of humor. There is an alien conspiracy theorist who gets teleported and leaves behind a gun that can vaporize enemies at close range. A government agent comes in discussing high-level security threats and has the defining trait of saying “pardon my french” whenever he uses a word vaguely obscene such as poop. Aaron, aka Tweak, has daddy issues and hates two pigs for some reason, sending you to whack them to death with a baseball bat. A scientist fails to warn you that the serum to attract Angels actually will attract skunks and a mob of black and white mammals ensues. There are more, but none that leave anything memorable for you to keep, and all have one or two missions before they disappear forever. Had I spent more time with these characters, especially the ones who die and the game expects you to care about, I may have developed an actual bond. Far Cry 5 is obsessed with making sure you’re never bored or in one spot for too long, something Heather Alexandria pointed out, which is probably why you never spend meaningful time with anyone.

Playing into this, the radio stations are a source of worldbuilding details that become literally drowned out by the world around it. The radio is only accessible when inside a vehicle, and even then the volume is pretty low, guaranteeing it won’t be heard very well when driving. Even staying in an unmoving vehicle won’t guarantee you the ability to listen in on the religious radio station, or news reports that evaded me my entire playthrough.

And ultimately I don’t think the game is very interested in engaging with substance. There isn’t anything here for the player to find, so they hid what they could lest the player become curious. It’s something that Astrid wrote about, with the title “Far Cry 5 Offers Nothing to Believe In.” as well as Errant Signal in his video analysis of the game.

Throughout the game you will be kidnapped so that the game may force some time with the antagonist of whatever region you were liberating at the time. These kidnappings occur very frequently and in exceedingly ludicrous ways. Twice I was in a wingsuit flying through the air only to have the screen fade to black and a loading screen greet me. Loading is long and frequent, breaking up the pacing of cutscenes significantly. The controller vibrates to notify you when it's nearly finished loading, as if the game anticipated the player to grow bored during the length of these loads.

Mindless waypoint complaints can be soothed by playing with the UI options, which allow you to turn on or off every detail that appears onscreen by default. I did notice that even with it all off, the sound effect for binoculars tagging enemies will still trigger, as if the developers threw this option in without considering the other systems it interacts with. However it doesn’t keep the default experience from being so brain dead. Even the simplest of people can follow the yellow marker point to point for the entire game and make it through without ever having to think beyond, “Go here. Kill that.” It’s completely mindless and offers no challenge.

Narrative Dissonance

Early on, Joseph Seed will tell the player that “not every problem can be solved with a bullet.” You then proceed through the entire game killing everyone with bullets, sometimes with bow and arrows, your bare hands, or animal companions. That phrase is repeated later on, as if the game looks down on the player’s actions, despite them being the only option available to interact with the world. Instead you are given a weapon of death, pointed in their direction, and told kill. Over and over and over until it becomes almost reflexive which could have been used to make a comment on that impulsive violence except Far Cry 5 doesn’t.

A narrative conceit created for gameplay is the drug Bliss, which is used to justify the existence of brain dead enemies for the player to mow down. The Bliss is positioned as something you can’t escape. This is evidenced by the treatment of Angels, those who have been overtaken by the Bliss, as well as the very telegraphed betrayal by the rescued ally named Marshal. Taken from your group at the beginning of the game, Marshal is taken by antagonist Faith and rescued midway through redeeming her area. He is taken back to the headquarters of the resistance in that region, a prison, and proceeds to shoot an ally NPC, open up the prison to invasion, and commits suicide. All of this is blamed on Faith’s ability to control through the Bliss, except that both you and the sheriff were exposed to the drug without the same after-effects. Angels are assigned for death, despite their status as unwilling subjects of the cult, and the drug’s influence is called irreversible, despite characters surviving multiple exposures. As Holly Green writes, this usage of drugs in games “[is] not just inaccurate, it’s lazy.”

Graphics

Common praise is thrown at the graphics, and the developers’ ability to render a realistic Montana landscape. And yes, Far Cry 5 looks pretty, but every AAA game looks great and their status is fleeting until the next big game releases. This is why Journey remains beautiful whereas Uncharted 3 begins to show its age when compared to the latest iterations in that genre. The ability for developers to render realistic graphics is not only a temporary accomplishment but one that reinforces and crunch nature of game development.

Even separate from that, details in its ability to render a world falters compared to an earlier game in the series: Far Cry 2, as evidenced by this video from Crowbcat. Some of the most telling differences lie in small things such as bush branches being pushed by the presence of the player, whereas Far Cry 5 only has flat 2D textures angled in different directions for bushes. Fire in Far Cry 2 burns foliage by slowly eating away at the branch’s leaves. In Far Cry 5 it simply makes the affected greenery swap out colored textures for black ones. While the landscapes may be in higher resolutions with greater fidelity, it loses the many small things that lend the player a presence in the world. Instead you are simply a mounted camera with arms for killing.

John Seed

Upon completion of the tutorial island you will be unleashed to travel wherever you so desire on the game map, though it lightly pushes you to begin with John Seed’s area to the southwest. In this area you rid the town of Fall’s End of peggie (the derivative term used for Project Eden’s Gate members) occupation and kick off the resistance to John Seed’s control. Everytime a major point is passed on your Resistance meter John will have you captured and brought before him for lectures on sin and atonement.

John is obsessed with the confession of sin and the resulting atonement that confession yields. However this isn’t the same as confessing to a priest in the Catholic Church. Instead, John enjoys carving the sin’s name onto your flesh before cutting it out and placing it on whatever surface lies nearby for all to see. The imagery is crude though effective. Having your sin made a part of your flesh and having that flesh taken from you and posted in public is freeing, both in that it is no longer a part of you and that it is no longer hidden. The flesh throughout the New Testament is a source of sin, of failure, of our inherent flaws. To have that flesh serve as the easel upon which our specific failing is made known to all who can see it, and to cast it out of us, is a violent, but functional, metaphor. Failing to explore why John does this, and specifically why he seemingly loves to do it, is where Far Cry 5 falls flat.

Cult leader Joseph recognizes that John still has growing to do before he can become a true leader of the cult. John never mentions frustration with his place in the power structure, which might have fed his anger. Instead, John simply takes pleasure in inflicting pain on others. Giving John a clear source for his anger, for his need to force others to atone for their sin, would have made him a more believable person. Likewise, Joseph could have been made a better antagonist if the source were a tragic one he exploited, like with Faith.

The context that came to my mind that would have improved my empathy for the character was that John was gay amidst a cult that killed those who couldn’t or wouldn’t conform. Having John previously cast out of religious institutions due to this, and to have him be given shelter and power by Joseph would have justified his place within the cult. To have Joseph turn around and betray John by carving this “sin” onto him but leaving it to John to cut out would have given him a source of internal conflict. This could have been the reason he so enjoyed cutting the sins out of others, because he was unable to cut it out of himself. John’s sin could have been other things as well, whether it be a lack of faith, jealousy of his older brother, pride in his control, these too would have worked as sins he didn’t want to acknowledge.

However, to have John be gay would be to acknowledge that Evangelicals, one of the largest demographics of the United States, especially rural counties like the fictional Hope County of Far Cry 5, cause unjustified harm to people simply for existing. And because Far Cry 5 has a cowardly approach to most of the subjects within, this would have been too “political” for them to include. Due to the lack of depth in John’s character, Far Cry 5 shows its not only unwilling to do anything slightly provocative but also to make its characters more than empty vessels of dialogue. John remains a vapid character because of this, and even his “Say Yes” infomercial can’t drown out the overwhelming dullness surrounding him.

Faith Seed

Once you have eliminated John and conquered his area, you move on to Faith Seed’s to the east. Faith, named after the virtue, is in charge of the production of the Bliss drug for the cult. She communicates through the Bliss constantly, but lacks any semblance of humanity save for two instances.

The first is when you destroy the large statue of Joseph in the center of her area, when she will mention that your actions will cause Joseph to bring down consequences on Faith, what exactly this means is never mentioned unless you explore certain caves. In them you will find notes discussing that there are many Faith Seeds, and this one is simply the latest to have that designation. The others, the ones who failed, met terrible deaths at the hand of Joseph and his cult.

The second appears just as she is about to die during your drugged out fight with her. Its presence near the end of her campaign was insulting as I had already spent enough time listening to her boring lectures on trusting in Joseph that I couldn’t care less. With this one she brings up how she was ostracized and bullied and that Joseph was the only one who took her in. The twist, if you can call it that, is that he drugged her and exploited her for his own purposes, betraying the faith she had put in him. Why she was ostracized and bullied is unanswered, and given her appearance as a standard blonde girl, doesn’t really come across as believable no matter how cruel humans can be.

Riley MacLeod has written about the double standard Faith represents a double standard among Evangelicals, but even that is being too sympathetic to the game. The references to her exploitation come way too late or rely on the player finding them among the game world. Failing to mention the betrayal by Joseph earlier means there is no time spent on how cult leaders frequently sexually exploit the women, and children, of the cult with their power. Far Cry 5 is more than willing to show off gun violence and brutal executions but barely even acknowledges the sexual violence that occurs within the cults it wants to badly emulate.

Jacob Seed

Jacob Seed is perhaps the best of the four siblings, though that isn’t very high praise given his company. Jacob is a war veteran who spent a period of time in the first Gulf War. It was during this time that he and a teammate were shot down and stranded far from any allies without the required provisions. Starvation drove Jacob to achieve a mindset that he referred to as clarity, one that drove him to kill and consume his friend in order to survive. This mindset, one that he purports separates the weak from the strong, is how he rules over the northern section of Far Cry 5’s map.

Opposing him is the Whitetail Militia, who are frequently taken prisoner for mind control sessions that allow Jacob to trigger them, and you, into violent frenzies with the song “Only You (And You Alone).” How this condition has been implanted into you isn’t discussed. Much like the Bliss drug, it is merely a narrative shortcut to allow for dream-like sequences in which you run through a shooting gallery whenever you are captured.

Jacob’s ideology about separating the weak from the strong calls to mind John the Baptist's teaching about how Jesus was coming to separate the wheat from the chaff. Conveniently this interpretation leaves out the fact that those who were spared in the New Testament were not the ones who were strong but instead the ones who believed in Jesus and his teachings. Jacob has the most coherent arguments for why the world is going to end, though he never discusses anything else beyond that. While he mentions upon his impending death that he doesn’t actually care much whether or not his brother talks to God, it is about the most we get out of him besides his obsession with meat and killing the weak.

Joseph Seed

Joseph Seed lacks charisma; he lacks a defined faith beyond the world is ending. Most likely this is because those behind Far Cry 5 didn’t want to upset any Evangelical Christians with direct references to Jesus or the New Testament outside of Revelations. Joseph, and especially John, appear less like rural Montana citizens and more like Silicon Valley douche-bros with their partially shaved heads and millennial fashion wear. You could mistake them for Richard Spencer and his “dapper” style that was used as a way to legitimize his disgusting views on race. Far Cry 5 may want to use that same style, but don’t worry the cultists aren’t white supremacists; in fact, they’re very inclusive as indicated by the amount of non-white folks among them that you murder throughout the game.

Joseph’s problem is the game’s problem: the appearance of depth and meaning. Each character has one trait or characteristic that is repeatedly used but never given depth. Joseph believes the end of the world is coming and that he is God’s chosen vessel to save everyone, willing or not. He uses this to justify the violence his cult commits to those who resist. The game justifies his violence by telling the player they are the reason people suffered, that Joseph was right and you should have never come to stop him. This would have been slightly more acceptable had Joseph been a detestable asshole who I wanted to shove a knife into, but he isn't. Instead Joseph is a boring prophet proclaiming over and over how I’m wrong, he is right, and the world is going to collapse so we all better follow him into the bunkers belowground. He even sings “Amazing Grace” at the outset, as if to unknowingly hammer the fact that this game is only ever surface level with its source material.

Midway through each area, when you are captured for the second time, Joseph will make an appearance to speak to the player. Each time he tells a story or attempts to make a point that was so banal the only one I remember was insultingly generic. When he visits you and Jacob he retells a story about how when he was younger he had a wife and soon-to-be-born child. His wife got in an accident and died while the child barely hung on to life. Joseph, feeling called by God, killed his child in the hospital by cutting off her oxygen. The reason behind this ploy is obvious; it is to build up the players hatred of Joseph. However, it came in the midst of all the other awful shit going on in Far Cry 5 that just rendered it another dull addition to the tone of the game. I already heard a companion describing how a cook tortured his victims. I already saw John carve out the flesh of another companion. Faith showed me how she forced people to jump to their death on the rocks below. Throughout Hope County I came across bodies strung up on road signs, people dead in their homes, and piles of corpses in makeshift mass graves. All of these things should be repugnant, but because Far Cry 5 constantly throws these images at you and fails to do anything with them beyond asking you to be horrified, it makes them vapid.

Joseph Seed has his own book, one which may be available to read excerpts from elsewhere but in-game it only exists to let the player know the cult is not drawing only from the Old Testament and Revelations. Verses are quoted and thrown at the player as if they mean something. Our main antagonists all have Biblical names with no thought behind what they represent. It shows that the game has no interest in doing anything other then delivering a re-skinned Far Cry game with a North American evergreen forest setting.

Closing

There was real potential to do something interesting with the setting. Whether it be to show how religion, actual religion not this Eden’s Gate pseudo-religion, is often used to justify awful things. They could have included an attempt to contact the outside world only to find the federal government was uninterested in spending resources on a backwater county, leaving the citizens to die and the cult to rule until their own collapse. Violence could have been made slightly meaningful if the people you were killing weren’t so generically villainous in their actions.

Connections could have been made to show how preppers and militias are often fearful not only of government intervention in their lives but the influx of immigrants and The Other. It fails to acknowledge the violence already present in that region separate from the introduction of a doomsday cult. In regards to gun ownership the game seems to have something to say, though unintentionally: it's a good thing the good preppers and militiamen had guns to fight off the bad preppers and militiamen that make up the cult. This is essentially the “good guy with a gun” argument implemented in a place where law and order has been done away with. See, the 2nd Amendment is justified because without it how else would these people have defended themselves from the cult? Tracking and blocking mass sales of guns, especially those designed for the sole purpose of killing humans, definitely wouldn’t have kept this cult from obtaining their armaments.

Instead we have as Julie Muncy describes, “a hall of mirrors.” A game that lacks the ability to do anything more than deliver the same uninspired experience the series has been able to mask well enough until it brought it to a land I know. And it forces you to reconsider what you thought about the previous entries, and that their exotic locations were perhaps an uglier choice than we initially thought. That iis one thought provoking thing Far Cry 5 managed to instill in me, I can’t say the same for anything else.

#Far Cry 5 #Far Cry #Ubisoft #Video Games #Video Game Criticism #Criticism #writing

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sirbarmy-blog · 6 years ago

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Mental Health & Why It Needs An Overhaul

I recently finished writing an article that is being considered for publication. I spent years on trying to write this in the correct way and put myself and those I love under an extreme spotlight if it does get published. I pushed those I love away in order to protect them and I sent my final story to editors for last revisions. I severed relationships and made those who care about me feel like I hated them just to ensure that they can’t be tied to it. However, I will publish my story here in the chance that the final copy does get rejected. Even if it does get published, I know that the editors will do what they want with it, so here’s my final raw article. I only hope it helps people in the end. I never wanted to lose those I care about but the thousands vs the few gave me limited options

Several years ago I did something. I did something that people who know me will get angry at. I'm okay with it. Because several years ago I embarked on a journey to ensure those that need help get that help.

Let me start from the beginning. I innocently walked into a job interview for a personal care worker position. For those of you that don't know, a PCW job is someone who helps care for a less able person with their daily routine, i.e cooking food, taking medications, going to appointments. Basically daily tasks that you and I do without second thought. I desperately needed a job and I figured, “why not”? I enjoy helping people so let me help.

I took this interview and I failed. However, that's not where my journey started. I had no second thought about it and ended up moving on.

Fast forward a few more years and once more I needed a job and so I re-applied. This time, it was different. The original person who interviewed me never actually put into my file that I had interviewed the first time. When I mentioned I had interviewed before the person looked at my file and looked at me and said “we have no record of that.” (That should have been the first red flag) However, the difference this time is that I answered all their buzz questions about helping people. However, this company, was well known for high turnover rates and I was taught how to answer the questions. So it came to no surprise to me when they told me that I was qualified. What did come as a surprise to me was that they wanted me to come back for another interview, except this time, it was for a Mental Health position I hadn't even considered.

After I interviewed with this individual I was hired. After I went through training, I went to this facility. I cannot name it, however I can say it was used by Brown County Treatment Center and Green Bay Crisis.

Upon my arrival, I shortly learned the manager that hired me had been relieved of their position. I learned later on that the individual had been sleeping with their subordinates. This should have been a second red flag but I didn't question it.

I spent a few years at this facility with patients who needed help. These patients had been unknown to me, yet, they were well known to the B.C.C.T.C and Crisis. These were patients who drastically needed help. Whether it was depression or schizophrenia or first time suicidal patients.

The biggest complaint I had heard from these individuals was that they were constantly shuffled around and mostly forgotten by their case managers. Not because the case manager didn't care but because the case manager was busy with all their other cases. They had been left at a facility that was mainly only there to babysit.

I had never seen so much red tape in patient care. I had gone to the emergency room with a cough and had been treated quicker than these patients. These patients who had far worse conditions then I had ever had.

Eventually a manager had been hired to run this facility. This manager was strictly by the book. We had no full time manager before this and we had learned to deal within a gray area. Yet, no matter how happy the clients were, we had to do everything by the book.

At this time, I could no longer be a part of this and slowly worked my way out. I eventually found another job in a completely different field. Then, I ran into some old patients I had been with. We talked and I learned that their treatment plans were still only treating them for the most drastic arguments that had landed them back in treatment instead of long term care. That's when I had enough.

I thought about how can I help? How can I use my experience? How can I make sure they don't just keep getting bounced back and forth? I started looking back at my experience working in the field. That's when it hit me. The whole time I was at this facility, I had watched as people were discharged and committed suicide, or got re-admitted cos they weren't treated properly. These people weren't being treated, they were being pawned until they seemed “right” by B.C.C.T.C.

It took me a few years but I finally worked up the courage to do what I thought would help. That's when I undertook a position that will undoubtedly harm my credibility. I decided I would get myself admitted / committed.

I took drastic measures and got myself admitted. This is where the first fault lies. I posted a message that got people worried. Yet, it wasn't the people who I posted the message to but 3rd party individuals who saw the message and called for a welfare check (These people are the most important in any crisis).

What happened next absolutely blew my mind. When people are talking about suicide, or presenting signs of suicide, you should expect an officer trained in mental health. Instead I got five officers who were not trained in mental health throwing me in cuffs. Instead of being asked, “how can we help?”, I got told I needed to “...come outside or we will come in and take you”. I decided to not be manhandled.

I went with what they requested. I had no shoes, no socks, no glasses. I was in shorts and a tank top. They immediately put me in cuffs and started searching me. I asked if I could get my glasses and they just turned me away and walked me to a patrol car. They told me I wasn't under arrest yet it felt like it.

At this point they took me to Crisis for an evaluation. I waited over close to an hour before someone finally interviewed me. I answered all their questions and I made known I had worked in mental health. Instead of asking more in depth questions, Crisis decided to commit me even though I answered all their trigger questions correctly.

At this point it was 5 in the morning. So I was transported yet again to go to a facility for a blood draw. Upon arrival I was placed in a bed in the emergency room. Not in a waiting room, not in a corner room, but instead occupying a bed. Where I was fully coherent, joking with the officer who transported me. I spent almost two hours occupying this bed which should have been used for emergencies. The reason was “because the county pays for occupants”. That's another red flag.

The nurse eventually came in. Upon her informing of me my rights, she asked if I would submit to a blood draw. I asked her “what I don't”? Her response was cold. “If you don't submit we will tie you down and take it ourselves”. When I stated you just told me my rights she informed me the officers put on the paper work I was unwilling to go with them. Yet, I had.

I argued no further and they took the blood draw. Eventually I got transported to the B.C.C.T.C. I thought this was definitely where this ended. Upon intake, which was almost four hours later at this point, I informed the individual that I knew the system and then named off several of the individuals I knew were case managers or caregivers.

What happened next blew my mind. This individual had no desire to follow protocol. This individual just told me to sign papers. Never informed me of HIPPA, never asked if I understood, just wanted me to sign. Luckily I knew the paperwork but for those who don't, this is a huge problem.

Finally I went through intake. If you think getting processed into jail is drastic, this is the same routine. Instead of treating the patient like they are in crisis, they are treated like they are a prisoner. They have no rights. You do what we say type of mentality.

I was walked to my room. The door shut behind me. Now, I really felt like I was in jail. The light switch was only dimmed to one possible light out in the entire room. The bed was a jail cot. With a simple blanket and pillow.

I didn't sleep. I wanted to see how the night went. The only thing they did correctly that night was hourly room checks. Was it non invasive? No. Was it prison like? You bet. Loud, quick, open the door and slam it shut. Just what a person in crises needs. To feel trapped.

The next morning my door was opened. I was told it's time for breakfast. Did I get asked? No. The door was thrust open saying “It's breakfast time Mr. _________”. They didn't even try to hide who I was. I thought that was weird, until I walked out and saw my full name written on a white marker board. Not only they did they treat you like a prisoner at this point, they made you fully known to everyone around you. So much for HIPPA.

I declined breakfast. I was informed I'd see a doctor that day. Never saw a doctor. When I asked, “He never showed up.” At least that was normal from when I worked in the other facility.

That first day I didn't see a doctor. What I did see right away? A person with paperwork for insurance. I didn't even see a counselor. I wondered to myself how can this be? I stayed in my room.

Throughout the day, I was never asked how I was or if I wanted to talk. Just informed it was time to eat. The next day I was told it's time for group. Immediately I wondered how is it time for group if I never got diagnosed or questioned about my state. Then I was told it was mandatory. I declined. I was told that it was okay but it had to go on my file. I fully expected to be dragged out. Yet, being told your file would get marked and not being asked why was just as worse.

I continued to deny food and group. When I asked to make a call, I had to make it in front of everyone. Not allowed privacy. Why? Cos I was committed and had no rights outside of being recorded. Now this was really feeling like jail.

The next time the doctor was in, I was denied because they were too busy. So they had once doctor for the entire facility? That's certainly what it felt like.

After finally declining food the third day, I finally met with a counselor. When they asked what I liked to do they gave me books and magazines to read. At first, I finally felt validated. That was short lived as I never saw them again unless I wanted to attend group.

On my second to last day, still declining food, I attended group. Mainly because I knew at this point if I wanted to leave I had to appear compliant. Yet, this whole time, there was my name being announced fully by every worker, and outside my door, not caring about HIPPA. So much for client care.

That did the trick. The next day I saw the doctor and he discharged me with no conditions. What just happened? I was suicidal coming in. I was lead away in cuffs. I was committed by Crisis. I was violated of HIPPA. I was told I had to comply. When I did, I was released.

This is the injustice that happens every day to people that really need help. I saw this happen constantly to those who went through the cycle. I watched as people were left in facilities for almost a year with no right, no voice, no choice.

I finally got it. I finally understood why these people felt second rate and kept getting recycled. I watched as people faked their way out only to commit suicide shortly after their release. I watched as people didn't trust the system and wouldn't talk to those who wanted to help.

Let me end with this. This isn't about blaming the peace officers, the facilities, the caregivers at the facilities, the doctors, or those who truly care. This is blaming the system. In the time I worked for a government facility, to my time purposely experiencing it, this is not what the people in need need. The system needs a drastic overhaul.

The police only did their job. They weren't trained to do it because very few officers are trained for mental health situations. Crisis was overwhelmed and were quick to push people on their way because they only had 2 people working on a hotline when they needed more. B.C.C.T.C sidestepped protocols because they weren't properly trained (i.e., I shouldn't have been there once I dropped several names of workers). The county doctor couldn't see me because they were so overwhelmed with case loads that they just wanted to do what was minimal.

Brown County is one of the most resource rich counties in Wisconsin. Yet situations like this happen every day. However, many people rely on the county. Something needs to change. Something has to give. We spend millions of dollars on a lot of things, yet those who need us most, go under the radar and funds get diverted.

Mental health needs a drastic overhaul. I did not write this article to blame any one of those involved. I wrote this article because it's time that we properly funded and helped those who need help. It doesn't just start or end with the city, or county, or state. This is a nationwide issue. Every day thousands of people go every day getting the bare minimum because not enough money gets to the right place. I wrote this article in hopes that people will see that if someone like me went through this they can only imagine how much worse it is for those who keep getting recycled through the system.

----

I used to joke with my ex when she asked why I had two phones. I always made a smartass comment that it was because I worked for the government. In reality I had started putting my sources together and recording my time in my line of work. I wanted to ensure that I did not entangle others. While this is my draft, if it does get published, I did not want others to get hurt.

If you or someone you know is going through similar situations in public mental health care please contact an advocate. You are helping them and thousands of those around you.

#mental health #life #hope #nevergiveup #there is hope

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7newx1 · 4 years ago

Link

The email from the principal had a lighthearted, friendly tone, but the news she delivered was alarming: Three more students at Creekview High School in Canton, Georgia, had tested positive for the coronavirus—the fourth such letter sent to parents that week. That out of the way, she then moved on to what she called a “distraction,” noting that the high school volleyball team would be playing in a tournament the next day. “Come to CVHS to see our lady Grizzlies play at 9:00 10:00 or 12:30,” she wrote. “Go Grizzlies!”Two days later, after 25 students tested positive and more than a quarter of the student body was placed in quarantine, the entire school was shut down.In the three weeks since school started in Cherokee County, Georgia, three of the district’s six high schools have temporarily shuttered due to coronavirus outbreaks. As of Friday, 2,000 of the 42,000 students in the district were in quarantine.But the county—once a heart of the Cherokee Nation, now a bastion of support for Donald Trump—has shown no sign of suspending in-person education or beefing up its policy of encouraging but not requiring face masks.Many parents and teachers in the district—where one school wanted students to disinfect classrooms—say they are terrified of what will happen if the status quo is allowed to continue. “I kind of feel like Cherokee County has been the guinea pig for the state, or the nation,” said Meg Du Plooy, a mother of two Cherokee County students. “Just an experiment to see what happens if we open all the schools and have everyone come back in.”Inside COVID U: Hoax Parties, Pissed Roomies, and Canceled ClassesAt a school board meeting Thursday, Superintendent Brian Hightower suggested for the first time that the now-shuttered high schools may move to a “hybrid model” in which students attend school in-person only a few days a week.“Right now we’ve got a few high schools where it’s so hot—or there’s such a cluster that seems to be following one school—that we’re not sure when we can get them open,” he said. “We want something better than coming, reporting, popping in, popping out,” he added. “We want to look at some alternatives, and we think these could be three great lab situations for us to utilize that.”Parents first started to worry this spring, when the district allowed graduation to take place in-person, inside a church auditorium. (Photos that were circulated among parents and obtained by The Daily Beast show school board member Kelly Poole standing with the graduates onstage, her mask folded in her hands.) But the real trouble started when the school announced its reopening plan. In an 85-page document—sent to teachers and parents one day before it was to be voted on—the district said it would not be pushing back the start of the school year or requiring masks in its classrooms. Despite the short notice, 6,000 people watched the school board meeting online, and a contentious question-and-answer session followed. Directly after, the board voted unanimously to approve the plan. Things only got worse from there. Though families were given the option to continue learning remotely, approximately 75 percent opted for in-person learning, meaning hallways and common areas were crowded and class sizes could not be meaningfully reduced. A viral photo taken the first day of classes at Sequoyah High School showed dozens of students crammed together for a photo, none of them in masks. The photo was shared on—and later removed from—the school’s official Instagram account.> TAKE A LOOK: 2 Cherokee Co. Schools shared pictures of some students during their first day back in school. No social distancing, and very few masks, if any. I’ve received word that some teachers don’t feel comfortable but aren’t sure what to do. Is this safe? Thoughts? @cbs46 pic.twitter.com/EIvA1fNBVt> > — Iyani Lenice CBS46 (@iyanilenicetv) August 3, 2020Teachers who spoke to The Daily Beast said the few promises the district did make have not been fully kept. Bell schedules at some schools have not been staggered as planned, meaning teachers are given five minutes to disinfect their classrooms before the next class arrives. Despite assurances that additional cleaning would take place overnight, one teacher said she returned to her classroom after a “deep clean” to find the desktops had not been washed. One school even offered volunteer hours to students who spent 15 minutes wiping down desks after school, according to emails reviewed by The Daily Beast. (The offer was later retracted.)Whatever additional cleaning does take place, these teachers said, happens largely after hours, when both they and their students are out of the building."For two weeks, pretty much all that got done in our rooms was emptying the trash—or at least that's what we were able to notice,” said one teacher, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of losing her job. “In a pandemic, our classrooms need more than just the trash cans emptied.”In an email to The Daily Beast, CCSD’s Chief Communications Officer Barbara Jacoby said the district “continuously review[s] protocols to determine additional improvements” and had “implemented changes to initial protocols as a result of feedback,” including the provision of face shields to teachers who wanted additional protection.Jacoby said teachers were not required to clean their rooms between classes, and that cleaning supplies were provided so that teachers could wipe down frequently used surfaces “if they so choose.” She added that the district had spent an additional $4 million on safety supplies and that a “certified disinfection specialist” was placed on the custodial team at every school to focus on disinfection of high-touch areas. (Teachers interviewed by The Daily Beast said this mainly looked like someone walking around cleaning doorknobs.) The deep-cleaning process, Jacoby said, “includes disinfectant misting and which takes place after school hours.”Schools Touted by DeSantis Now in a Quarantine NightmareA number of teachers did commend their schools for such precautions as halving the number of students in each lunch period, providing extra hand sanitizer and cleaning supplies, and making the hallways one-way. But many of them also said they felt largely unsupported by the district as a whole.“My administration themselves have been great at trying to keep us safe,” said one teacher, who also requested anonymity for fear of retaliation. “But it seems like the people at the district level, they don’t seem to care if we live or die.”Some of this feeling stems from communications from the district itself. In one email sent to teachers at the beginning of the school year and reviewed by The Daily Beast, Superintendent Brian Hightower told teachers who were unhappy with facets of the reopening plan to “reflect on the best direction forward for you in your role with [the district]”—a comment some teachers saw as a threat to their employment. Hightower later apologized for the message in another email, writing that he “should have done a much better job of sharing my appreciation for both your efforts and concerns as it relates to our school reopening.”In a Q&A document posted online, one parent noted that some teachers’ social media posts made it seem like they were “afraid to return to work,” and worried that they would treat their children differently if they opted for face-to-face learning.“We apologize, as a school district, if a teacher has argued with you on social media or made you otherwise not have confidence in their ability to effectively teach your child,” the district responded, not addressing the comment about teachers’ fears. “All teachers are expected to follow our social media guidelines for employees, which make clear this should not occur online.”The message from the district, one teacher said, “has been loud and clear: Shut up and do your job.” Jacoby said teachers were encouraged to share safety concerns with principals or through an anonymous tip line.Parents who disagree with the district—a group of largely liberal residents in a town that went 73 percent for Trump in 2016—said they feel pressured to stay silent. In the wake of the decision to reopen schools, dozens of parents turned out to a rally to support in-person learning without a mask mandate. One participant arrived with signs promoting the outlandish conspiracy theory that the effects of the virus are being exaggerated to make Trump look bad. “Thank you CCSD! endtheelectioninfection,” one sign read.“Did you know that the coronavirus has a patent? Why is the government lying to us?” read a second, referring to another roundly debunked conspiracy theory.A more than 6,000-member “CCSD Positivity Vibes” group has formed on Facebook, the stated purpose of which is to support students and staff but which some parents say is being used to stifle dissent. (Several school board members belong to the group and post occasionally.) Lea Dearing, an adminisrator of the Facebook group, didn’t anticipate it would take off like it has. “It was not created for the purpose of pledging support to the reopening plan,” she told The Daily Beast. “It was created after the reopening plan was announced when we realized that our teachers and school staff and bus drivers were under extreme stress and needed extra support. No matter their personal views (and those vary widely) they were going to be back in the schools.”When the district announced that Creekview would be shutting down, one member encouraged others to comment on the Facebook post and “flood the comment section with love.” The announcement now has more than 750 comments, several of them comparing the fatality rates of the coronavirus to the flu and spreading misinformation about masks.“That can be a lot to handle when you’re progressive in this area,” said Miranda Wicker, a former Cherokee County school teacher who has been vocal about her concerns with the reopening plan. “It’s very hard to speak out in that environment and be heard, because there's just mass amounts of people so quick to shut you down.”Both teachers and parents said they felt the conservative bent of the town had influenced the school board’s decision to reopen without a mask mandate. The board is entirely Republican, and almost half of them—including the board chair—are up for re-election again this year.But at least one teacher was equally worried about how the parents’ views influenced their children.“The kids feel like they’re invincible,” she said. “Just hearing them talk and it’s like, everybody’s going to get it anyway and life goes on.”She added, “It doesn’t hit home until the reality is right in front of their face.”Read more at The Daily Beast.Got a tip? Send it to The Daily Beast hereGet our top stories in your inbox every day. Sign up now!Daily Beast Membership: Beast Inside goes deeper on the stories that matter to you. Learn more.

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