#phony emergency call

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“"POLICEMAN'LL GET YOU",” Toronto Star. April 18, 1942. Page 3. ---- But He Didn't. Although He Went Unknowingly For Purpose --- Special to The Star Ingersoll, April 18 - When Constable John Holmes answered the telephone in police office last night, a muffled female voice urged a policeman to come at once to a north side address. The officer took a taxi to make time. When the door was opened in response to his knock, she exclaimed: "Oh. constable. I am so sorry.. I did not. think you could hear me. I was just trying to scare the children to make them behave."

[arwenkenobi48]

“Robin Hood!?” The utterance of that name broke the silence in the royal treasury like a rusty nail in a bucket of ice. “Ahaha! I’ll get even! I’ll…get…mmmm…” The silence returned as quickly as it had vanished. The voice became muffled, its owner smiling, his tail and hind paws wriggling in sleep-filled contentment.

A discordant symphony of heavy snores and sleepy mumbles emanated from the occupant of the royal bed. Tossing and turning, Prince John grumbled, his drowsy mind replaying his prior conversation with Sir Hiss. “It’s Robin Hood I want…to…kill…” He rolled wearily onto his stomach. Presently, a soft giggle emerged from his mouth, building up into a hearty laugh.

A delightful dream filled the slumbering prince’s mind; he was now a little cub, playing with his father, whose paws were gently tickling his toes. “Here comes the tickle monster!” His father’s playful singsong voice cooed lovingly. Prince John continued to laugh at the delightful dream and the ticklish sensation that accompanied it, playfully kicking his father’s paws away and tucking his legs out of reach.

His paws slowly wiggling, with an incoherent, drunken melody emerging from his mouth, Prince John rolled onto his back, sinking into the warm silence of a dreamless sleep…

The sudden movement of being lifted forward and sharply dropped backwards startled the phoney king, causing him to flail and whine anxiously. As he so often did when he felt upset, Prince John began to tug his ear with one paw and suck his thumb with the other. The sensation sent a wave of peace washing over him, his fussy pout now replaced with a dreamy smile. Lying there, all curled up, with a single bag of gold slipped under the crook of his arm like a stuffed toy, one would never have suspected that this childlike creature was the same petulant tyrant who called himself the king of England.

Prince John whined in his sleep, his mouth desperately reaching for his thumb, which his slumbering mind believed to be the teat of the royal wet-nurse. It had somehow slipped out of his mouth as he slept, but as he searched for it, the drool-covered appendage popped back between his pursed lips. A contented smile stretched across the infantile monarch’s face as he sank back against the pillows, his mind drifting deeper into the sweet, warm, peaceful dream of being a newborn cub once again.

————————————————————

I literally just woke up and was so sleepy that I poetically rewrote my favourite scene from Robin Hood, entirely from PJ’s perspective. I still love the fact that this man straight up slept through almost the entirety of a gold heist taking place right under his nose!

@the-phony-king-of-england behold the eepy floof 😊

[hyenaswine]

my phone sent a phony emergency call to my mom so now it looks like i was attacked by a giant pika

[zalrb]

the summer i turned pretty 2x06 review -- no, i swear, tho, conrad was just sad...

Episode 6, the episode anons have wanted me to watch.

"I don't know I'm kind of happy here" after one day. THE MAGIC OF COUSINS.

"I know things are not great right now but it's always darkest before the dawn, right?" Why make him speak in cliches?

Cam Cameron WHY. ARE YOU HERE?

I like how Belly could've just said "We should throw a party" but because we're supposed to understand the closeness of these families through dialogue alone she has to say it in a roundabout way so she can talk about a memory of her mom and Susannah that Conrad and Jeremiah should already know if it's like they all grew up together 3 months out of the year.

This zen conversation with Steven and Conrad is legit like the first real conversation I've witnessed on this show.

This volleyball conversation is so forced.

"Your subconscious brain takes you there" You can just say subconscious, Jere. Who wrote this.

Oh look, ANOTHER taylor swift song. jesus christ.

I think I got a few requests to do a vid to this song and I remember just not getting over "is it chill that you're in my head?" because I thought it sounded like when you go to the thesaurus and look up synonyms for "cool".

They're both trickling their hands in the water, are their fingers going to touch and it's going to be ELECTRICITY?

Yes.

But this is her I FEEL THE ELECTRICITY face

You know, we can't even consistently stay here

at marginal almost kind of chemistry

"I'll come too!" Taylor's "Uh huh" is the only time I've marginally liked her.

You can't scoff at him calling her his muse with your cliched valedictorian speech, Steven.

LOOK AT MY FAKE I.D. k.

"Wooooooow, your I.D. didn't work Mr. Herbertson??" "Fuck off, at least I have one" oh my god, a moment between them that ACTUALLY sounded genuine. I am amazed. It will most likely die of loneliness.

And Jumper laughing then pointing at the sign is legitimately the only funny moment I've seen throughout this entire season.

BELLY WILL SAVE THE DAY. SHE WILL GET THE BOOZE. BECAUSE SHE IS BELLY. AND IT IS THE SUMMER SHE TURNED PRETTY.

She doesn't even sound sincere.

i am laughing so hard, this is the first time i've read rap on this show and it's because SHE'S SO GANGSTER SHE GOT THE BOOZE BECAUSE SHE'S BELLY.

Conrad asserting his dominance after Belly got Jeremiah a drink but not him one by drinking from Belly's straw is actually pretty funny though. It would be better if Belly wasn't so ... herself.

I love that Skye and Cam Cameron are the ship I care about the most (and I'm using the word 'care' SO loosely).

"The sacred emergency Amex??" It went back to being phony.

I can't deal with more Taylor and Steven.

And she'll put the boa around him because this show loves cliches.

And Jeremiah will see because this show loves cliches.

"Belly, you don't have to apologize for that" she kind of does though. She was kind of completely terrible.

Girl, you can shrug and shake your head all you want, it doesn't compensate for a lack of emotion in your face or voice.

And he's blinking trying to find his well of emotion and that shit is dry, my friend.

It's not like he was kissing Aubrey, it's not even like they were hugging, he had his head in her lap and you can say "teenager" all you want but this is ridiculous.

This is also the closest they've come to executing what they want with these two and it's still not done well but when he says "Aubrey was just the one who found me I wish it was you" I can at least say I believe that.

There we go.

So I'm guessing she's supposed to have this cosmic, soulful, reach into each other's soul connection with Conrad and a fun, chemistry-filled familiarity with Jeremiah. I've just seen both things done properly so this is just very big shrug.

I was going to say something about the 'how to kiss' conversation but then I was like, lol there are too many youths on my blog. So, moving on.

"I always hated when Mom made us take these pictures but it's like she knew we'd want them later" yes, Jeremiah, that's the purpose of a picture. He would annoy me less if they stopped giving him asinine lines.

"Looking at you mooning over Conrad" "That was a LONG time ago" how long ago was this break up, Belly?

she's saying the same thing twice. That's just called moving on. What it should be is "mourning your past and moving on in the present" or "remembering your past and moving on in the present" or "celebrating your past and moving on in the present" or "appreciating your past and moving on in the present". WHO. WROTE. THIS.

So Jere is Dean and Conrad is Jess, which anon essentially told me. Except Conrad is nowhere near as bad as Jess. He is just a boy who's been sad. LMAO.

she needs to be stopped.

"I don't want to talk about Conrad, he really hurt you" BY BEING SAD?

"You don't need to hurt yourself to get my attention" that was almost hot but he lacks the conviction necessary for me to be like ... sir ... and they don't actually have the i-need-to-jump-your-bones tension they need to have

"Just don't fucking break her heart again." He was quiet at prom. I...

OK so I'm really on neither side here because I don't care but there is a bit of a difference between Conrad telling Jere to suck it up and let him be with Belly, which was insensitive, and Jeremiah about to make out with his brother's ex girlfriend in public.

"When things aren't perfect instead of trying to fix it, he decides to throw it away" but we literally never see him do that?? Like he leaves Brown to go to the house to stop the sale, he's like Liam or whoever, he got a judge to let him access the trust, let's do that. Jeremiah did you think of anything you could do to help save this house except bring flowers to Julia, which failed, or did you just go let's not give up every time reality hit? Because even the "let's get Syke on our side" plan was Belly's? Idk dude, you're talking a big game for a character who I've seen be effectively useless??

"When shit got tough, he couldn't handle it and he dropped you", he literally said he couldn't go to back to the prom and Belly was like LET'S BREAK UP THEN and then he tried to be like wait that's not what I mean and Belly refused to listen?

I ... WHAT?

See, this isn't a blowup. This is a very contained, very quiet fight and this is when it's supposed to be a dirty OH SHIT fight. We should get a version of this, GET IN HIS FACE JERE

rail up on him

be specific

don't be afraid to have a fight! Not to mention I can't believe this fight because like 98% of the things he's accusing Conrad of, I don't think Conrad actually did, that would make him too much an active character. He is literally just a guy who's been sad.

And I know they hinted that Jeremiah has to deal with stuff because he was putting together Susannah's receipts or whatever but this is when juxtaposition would work where we see him see her wither away, we see him give her ice chips, we see him take care of her and Conrad is with Belly or at school.

Belly, why are YOU drunk? omg, at least Marissa's drama was FUN.

"I'm not leaving you, Belly." "But you already did!" I mean DID HE? And he also explained WHAT happened with Aubrey?

Someone said Conrad is like a ticking time bomb but what happens when he explodes because I haven't seen it. I've just seen him be sad.

And ALSO THIS SHOULD HAVE THIS KIND OF ENERGY

Belly, you are actually a ridiculous person

If they really wanted me to believe that Conrad was slipping away little by little throughout their relationship then they can't just leave that up to prom and a voiceover. I needed to see him actively shut her out, I needed to see her actively try to talk to him and him refusing to let her in. I needed to see him be Jess. Otherwise, this is RIDICULOUS.

Oh good, you know what I needed now? Another Taylor Swift song.

And then Belly turns around and kisses/chooses Jeremiah after this? BRO. WHY DO EITHER OF YOU LIKE HER?

[calliopewayne]

Imagineif

‘Recognized. Batman. 02.’

‘Recognized. Robin. B-01  

Bruce stepped through the zeta-tube, fear burning in his veins for the first time in a long time. Robin followed closely behind giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Bruce glared at the numerous monitors in the entryway, each tuned in to a different viewpoint on Earth. He scanned the screens for any emergencies and growled when he saw nothing amiss. All things considered, he would rather be fighting an alien invasion. He grasped tightly to the bag of scones Alfred was kind enough to prepare.

 It wasn’t too late to turn back now. No one had seen them yet.  He could tell Superman the Joker escaped Arkham again. But Clark would be able to see right through his phony lie.  

“Wow!” Dick ran towards one of the windows, his bright-yellow cape flapping behind him. Bruce grumbled a noncommittal response. “Super cool!” Dick beamed, eyes wide in wonder as he basked in the ethereal light of outer space. “I can get used to this view.”  

“Nice of you to join us, Batman,” Superman appeared in the archway, crossing his arms over his larger-than-life chest. 

Everything about Superman’s demeanor was guarded and careful. He crossed his arms in an attempt to make himself seem smaller and casual. He avoided meeting Batman’s gaze head-on, fearing he’d take it as a threat. Clark wasn’t under any delusions that Batman and Superman would ever be friends. He kept his voice neutral, void of any emotion. 

“I swear you won’t regret it, sir,” Superman said, offering Batman a timid smile.

“Hrrmm,” Batman grunted. He already did regret it.  

Bruce stiffened and not for the first time felt a stab of guilt in the presence of Superman. It was odd being addressed by Clark in such a formal, detached, way. Bruce Wayne knew Clark Kent. He loved game night more than Christmas. Last night Clark couldn’t shut up about Batman finally joining the Leaguers for game night. He was hoping they could move past their differences and be friends. He didn’t realize they were already friends. 

Bruce should have told Clark, right there and then, but it never seemed like the right time. It was easier to allow Clark to believe Bruce and Batman were two separate people. If Bruce Wayne were here, Superman would have already invaded his personal space and hugged him, even though he wasn’t a huggable person. If Bruce were here Clark would have made a joke about Bruce’s lack of skills in the kitchen.

“Are those scones I smell?” Superman’s eyes widened, his voice growing an alcove higher. For a second he allowed Clark Kent to leak through the crevices.

 Bruce should have known he couldn’t hide Alfred’s cooking for long. Not when he was in the presence of an alien that could smell brownies baking in North Dakota all the way from outer space. Wordlessly Batman proffered up the bag of scones from under his black cape. 

“I didn’t know Batman could cook!” Superman said excitedly, taking the bag of scones from him. “I mean of course you can cook . . .” he bit through a chunk of strawberry scone, the sticky red jam dripping down his chin.  “You’re Bate-man - can do anything!” Clark said through a mouthful of scone. 

Bruce involuntarily winced. He didn’t know how long he could keep up this facade. It took all his willpower not to comment on Kansas’ poor eating habits. 

“Funny,” Superman swallowed, licking his fingers. “My friend’s butler makes scones just like . . .” 

    “Oh my Rao,” Robin gaped up at Superman, grinning ear to ear. “You’re Superman!” 

Superman sputtered in shock, spitting out bits and pieces of scone all over his suit, gaping at the kid at his side. He hurriedly set the half-eaten scone back in the bag and straightened up. Clark rubbed fruitlessly at the sticky jam on his chest to no avail. A real smile tickled Bruce’s features. He knew he made the right call bringing Robin along. 

“That is what the papers call me,” Superman smiled in amusement. “But my friends call me Kal.” 

“Can I be your friend?” Dick asked hopefully. “We can fight crime together and play dodgeball in space!”   

When Bruce decided for Robin to tag along, he neglected to take into consideration the fact that Dick Grayson is the head of Superman’s fan club. 

“I’d rather avoid crime fighting if I can,” Superman said evenly, but Bruce knew him well enough to pick up the judgmental lilt in his tone. “Say, Robin do you like air hockey?” 

“Love air hockey!” Dick grinned. 

“Wonder Woman would love a partner,” Superman said. 

“No way! She’s here too!” And Dick was off, eagerly hunting down the other League members. Bruce scowled. Traitor. 

“Nice kid,” Superman turned towards Batman. “How old is he?” 

“He just turned ten.” 

“Younger than I thought,” Superman said. “He’s a little boy!” Here we go again, Bruce ground his teeth together. It was a never-ending battle with Superman. “He should be enjoying his youth, not chasing after Supervillains every night!” Clark said passionately.

“That little boy has been through more trauma than you possibly could imagine,” Batman hissed. “Fighting crime helps him cope.” 

“He is not you!” 

“Robin is not your concern,”  Batman said brusquely, not leaving room in his tone for arguing. But he knew Clark wouldn’t let this go easily. Bruce had been at the receiving end of Clark’s rants about Batman. Batman taking a kid on patrol was the tip of the iceberg. 

“Adding more trauma isn’t the answer,” Superman explained. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about  he doesn’t need to punch . . .” 

“Bullshit!” Batman hissed. “You have two loving, very much alive parents who at this moment are probably up worrying about their naive son. You know nothing about true loss!”

“How do you know that?” Superman’s eyes turned crimson. The heat scorched Batman’s face and he took an involuntary step back, his breath hitching. He had seen Superman burn through state of the arts androids and level up entire buildings, but not once was that fiery gaze aimed toward him. 

Bruce squared his shoulders and matched Superman’s glare. “I’m Batman.” 

“Hera, help us,” Diana strolled into the entryway her features drawn taut. She had traded out her Greek armor for sensible jeans and a biker’s leather jacket with a spattering of stars on the front pocket.  

 “I can’t leave you two alone for a second without risking Armageddon,” her arms flew to her hips, looking every inch like a mother scolding her boys. “Kal-El,” she said, a hidden warning in her tone.  “That is no way to greet a teammate.” Dutifully Superman’s eyes dimmed back to cerulean blue, but his expression remained turbulent. “Batman apologize for being a dickhead.” Clark smirked triumphantly.    

 Bruce was not going to dignify that with a response. “Let’s get this game night over with,” He shoved past Superman and Wonder Woman and into the game room.  

Batman was immediately overwhelmed by the lack of monitors displayed. Superman insisted the game room would be a place of relaxation, not a ‘war room.’ A grave mistake. Lex Luthor or Bane could be heading their way and they won’t be the wiser. Fortunately, the game room was located on the main deck so if anything did go sideways - as it always did- Leaguers had easy access to zeta tubes in the next room.     

 An island wrapped around a decent-sized kitchen; it would make Mama K green with envy. Superman had stocked the fridge with all-you-can-eat junk food. Batman knew because Bruce had loaned Clark his membership card for WayneMart. 

Beyond the kitchen was a den; a sofa comfortable enough to sleep in faced a platinum-sized screen. At the moment a rerun of Star Trek was playing on the tv. A red and black checkered blanket hung over the edge of the couch, covering a duffle bag on the floor. Bruce saw the edge of a notebook poking out of the bag. Bruce felt a pang of guilt. Clark had been living here ever since the bomb destroyed his apartment. It was no wonder he was so keen on game night. He must be going stir-crazy alone in Watchtower. Clark had asked to come to stay at the mansion, but Bruce had chickened out. Clark was such a Nosy Nancy, one look in the basement and his secret will be out. 

   Some of the league members were already sitting around the kitchen table. Unsurprisingly Flash sat closest to the food, scarfing down chips and salsa. Dinah sat next to Oliver, playing a game of footsie with him under the table. When Batman walked in the noise died. All pairs of eyes zeroed in on him. Flash froze mouth indelicately full of chips. 

Bruce felt like he was five years old again, his parents abandoning him at school. Father had held him in his arms and explained, “You would be a lucky man if you can count your friends on one hand.” 

Bruce’s throat closed up at the memory and shuddered to think things hadn’t changed that much. His only friends were Alfred and a naive alien. He supposed Dick was his friend too, but he viewed him more as the son he never dreamed he could have. 

“Hi everybody!” Dick rocked back and forth on the ball of his feet. “I’m Robin!” he waved enthusiastically to the group. “We come in peace. I promise Mr. Gloom and Doom isn’t here to ruin your fun.” he flicked a thumb back at Batman. Batman narrowed his eyes at his young charge. 

“We were just about to start imagineIf,” Barry explained. “Clah . . . Kal loves this game.” 

His midstep didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce, but he chose to not say anything and sat in the empty seat next to Superman. Robin took the chair opposite him. Clark set up the board game, jotting down everybody’s names and explaining how the game worked. It seemed easy enough. Though the only problem was, Superman was the only Leaguer present he bothered to get to know. He supposed this was the point of game night, to ‘bond’ with his teammates. 

“Youngest present goes first!” Robin declared, snatching the dice right from under Superman’s outstretched hand. Bruce suppressed a chuckle at Clark’s annoyed face. Superman leans back in the chair, refraining from arguing. Robin rolled the dice which landed on 6 and moved the gray game piece. Just his luck it landed on Batman.

Robin drew a blue card. “Imagine if Batman were a piece of advice, which would he be?” He giggled. “One. Trust no one. Two. Be honest at all times. Three. Treat others the way you want to be treated. Four. Believe in yourself. Five. Failure is not an option,” Robin laughed at that. “And six. Dress for success.” 

“This one is too easy!” Diana slammed down her card facedown. 

Bruce knew exactly which one he would choose. His greatest fear was failing. He couldn’t live with himself if Gotham’s Underworld created another orphan on his watch. He put his card down. The rest of the gang followed suit. Slowly everybody revealed their votes. Clark and Bruce were the only ones to put down #5. Everybody else put down #1. 

“Seriously?” Batman caught each of his teammate’s eyes. “That’s how little you think of me?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The alien knows me better than you lot.” 

“Well, to be fair,” Barry piped up. “You’re not exactly the trusting type.” 

“I trust plenty of people,” Batman’s ears grew red. 

“Name two,” Dinnah challenged. “And Robin doesn’t count, he’s your ward.” 

“Superman and Commissioner Gordon,” Bruce responded without preamble. He also trusted Alfred with his life, but they didn’t need to know that. Not many heroes had a butler at their disposal. Well, Clark had Connie, but she was a robot. 

Two pink dots appeared on Superman’s cheeks. “Wha-uh really?” 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Batman hissed. “And shut your mouth. You look like a codfish.” 

“Gods forbid, you allow yourself to have a heart,” Diana quips. 

The majority of voters moved their pieces on the board. This game was stupid. Clark and he were still stuck at the beginning. It would make more sense for them to match their card with the subject’s answer. Superman was after Robin. He rolled the dice, and go figure he landed on the Flash. 

Clark let out a bark of laughter the instant he saw the card, his eyes tearing up. “Imagine if the Flash were a villain which would he be?” 

“I fail to see what’s so funny about that.” Bruce cut out. Clark held up one finger to silence him. 

“One. Darth Vader. Two. Gollum. Three. Hannibal Lecter. Four. Lord Voldemort. Five. Cersei Lannister. Six. Reverse-Flash.” 

“What?” Flash screamed aghast. “No way!” he grabbed the card from Clark to examine it closer. 

Superman snickered. “Somebody f***** up the timeline again.” It was the only explanation for Reverse Flash’s name being mixed in with that bunch. 

The rest of the team followed suit with various bouts of snickers and giggles. Bruce stared petrified at the Boy Scout. He had never heard Clark utter more than a whispered, ‘damn it.’ Curse words sounded wholly unnatural and demonic coming from his lips. It made him want to go back to the cave and retrieve the jewelry. 

“That sick maniac,” Flash shook his head. “Even has to rule over Game Night.” 

“I think it’s hilarious.” Clark chucked. If Bruce didn’t know any better he would have thought Superman was drunk or on Joker venom. “Your villains crack me up. They’re funnier than the Joker.” 

It was a direct dig at him, but he wouldn’t rise to the bait. The vote was unanimous. Everybody put down Reverse Flash to Flash’s horror. He put down Gollum in spite. 

It was finally Batman’s turn. He groaned when he landed on Superman. At least this was someone he knew relatively well, but so did everybody else at the table. He hated losing at anything. This was his chance to up his game. He released a sigh of relief when he saw the card. 

“Imagine if Superman was attacked by an armed mugger. What would he do?” He couldn’t help smiling a smidge. This would be too easy. “One. Scream and hope someone comes to his rescue.” 

“Lois will definitely save you,” Barry said in a singsong voice. He puckered his lips and blew a red-faced Clark a kiss.

“And if she fails there’s always Maxima.” 

“Grow up,” Dinah kicked Oliver under the table. “Go on Bats.” 

“Two. Call the police and take down the mugger’s license plate (if available.)” Bruce shook his head. No mugger would be stupid enough to have their car parked nearby. “Three. Fight off the mugger with impressive Jujutsu moves.” Not exactly Clark’s style.

“Sounds more like you Batsy,” Barry leaned forward. “I’ve been meaning to ask . . . would you teach me some moves.” 

“Trust me, you don’t want him as a trainer,” Robin answers for him. “He’s brutal.” 

“I can only imagine,” Dinnah rolled her eyes. “Ollie is just as bad.” 

“Am not!” he protests. 

Bruce gritted his teeth. “Do you mind?” he snapped. “I’m trying to read here.” 

“Take a chill pill B-Man,” Flash holds up his hands defensively. “It’s just a game. Part of game night is bonding with friends.” 

“You’re not my friends.” He growled. “You are colleagues.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t be both.” Superman folds his hands together over the table, ever the diplomat. He could teach Wonder Woman a thing or two about diplomacy. “Your ‘colleagues’ as you so eloquently refer to us, will be more likely to have your back should things go south if you took the time to build a connection with them.”  

Human connection was his kryptonite. Batman and people did not mix. Besides, why would he need any of these Bozos when he had an alien in his back pocket? Or at least Bruce Wayne did. 

“Nice speech alien,” Bruce’s tone was unforgiving. He knew how much Clark hated to be called an alien, but it was all part of the facade of Batman. Clark preferred the term ‘Traveler.’ “Did you read that on a Hallmark card?” 

“Yeah, a Hallmark card shoved up your ass.” 

“That’s enough boys!” Diana slammed her fist on the table. “If you two do not learn to be civil towards each other by the end of the night, I will personally send you both to the Phantom Zone and you will have no choice but to put your differences aside and work together.” 

A plan was already forming in his mind. “We will just need an ounce of Kal El’s blood. Should be easy enough to procure in the Phantom Zone.” 

Clark opened his mouth to retort. “You low life, spoiled, sanctimonious. . . I would never let you, ” Diana silenced Clark with a quelling look. 

“Kal-El,” she warned. “Remember your upbringing. You know better than him. Do not rise to the bait.” 

 “Yes, mother.” Clark was such a pushover. Was he going to let her belittle him like that? Diana was not his mother. 

“Now. Continue the game,” Diana commands brusquely. “Prospiatheiseh na mein eisai malakas.” she chided in fluent Greek. Bruce’s ears turned pink at the vulgarity. 

“She just called you an asshole,” Clark translated for me. 

“You’re not the only one that knows three hundred languages.” 

“Really?” Superman’s eyes glimmer deviously at this newfound knowledge. “To neo sas kodiko onoma einai malakas.” 

“Kai si eheis to myalo enas morou,” Batman responded in turn. 

“Kalytera na eimai morou para paidofilos.” 

“Afiste to paidi mou!” Bruce growled. 

Diana shook her head bracing her hand against her palm. “Hera help me.” she looked up heavenward. “I’ve opened up the gates of Hell.” 

 “I want to play the game they’re playing,” Barry said. 

“I don’t understand anything,” Robin said. “But I’m pretty sure they’re not saying anything good.” 

[atlanticcanada]

Artificial intelligence voice scams on the rise, Better Business Bureau warns

Scammers are incorporating artificial intelligence into old schemes, putting a technological twist on so-called "grandparent scams."

“With new technology coming up, there are many scammers who are changing their tactics and using A.I. as a way to further legitimize themselves to convince people to hand over money,” said Kristin Matthews of the Better Business Bureau’s division in Atlantic Canada.

Matthews said one emerging example was the use of A.I. to clone the voices of friends and family members in phony situations.

“[Scammers] are essentially taking these clips of people’s voices on social media,” said Matthews. “They’re using A.I. to manipulate these voices to make it seem like this person is calling you.”

The scammer then mimics the person’s voice using A.I. technology to make desperate pleas or aggressive demands for money.

Earlier this month, a mother in Arizona said she received a phone call and heard what she initially believed to be her daughter crying, followed by threatening ransom demands. The child wasn’t involved.

“These are known as emergency scams and prey on people’s willingness to send money to a friend or relative in need,” said Matthews, adding caller ID from these scam calls can sometimes appear as the impersonated contact, making it appear even more legitimate.

“We’ve gotten at least two [reports] a week for the last few weeks,” said Matthews. “We’re anticipating for this to become a larger scam. We would like for people to keep an eye out and know what the red flags are if they get this type of call.”

People should always be skeptical of any pressure from an individual or company to send money quickly and under urgent conditions.

“Just resist the urge to act immediately because scammers really want to instill this fear in you and get you to pay up right away,” said Matthews. “Sometimes you really need to take a step back and think logically. Maybe you want to check out this story with other friends and family members.”

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/Y4aD0Z2

[whileiamdying]

Difference and Repetition: The Filmmaking of Marguerite Duras

Though best known as a novelist, Marguerite Duras pursued a unique filmmaking career of upending expectations.

Lawrence Garcia 08 SEP 2020

MUBI's series Hypnotic Incantations: A Marguerite Duras Focus is showing September - October, 2020 in the United Kingdom and United States.

In 1955, Jacques Rivette famously wrote that Roberto Rossellini’s Voyage to Italy“opens a breach… that all cinema, on pain of death, must pass through.” For Rivette and many others, the film heralded nothing less than the arrival of a modern cinema—and not five years later, Alain Resnais, with a screenplay from Marguerite Duras, took up this challenge with Hiroshima mon amour (1959). Following the film’s seismic premiere, Eric Rohmer declared it either “the most important film since the war” or “the first modern film of sound cinema,” its overture of tangled, ash-covered limbs even echoing the embalmed couple Ingrid Bergman turns away from in Voyage to Italy’s memorable Pompeii-set passage. With her seminal script, Duras could thus claim to have widened the gap opened by Rossellini, readying the space through which her own cinematic practice would later glide. But in the end, perhaps the challenge of Voyage to Italy was, at least for her, no more than the challenge of writing itself. In her memoir-cum-essay “Écrire,” composed three years before her death in 1996, she speaks movingly of the solitude of writing, its silent scream, but also its singular inducements: “Writing was the only thing that populated my life and made it magic. I did it. Writing never left me.”

And indeed it didn’t—neither through the numerous books published during her lifetime, nor through the roughly 20 films she made from the late ’60s to the early ’80s. That Duras’s directorial reputation still lags behind her literary fame is undeniable, and the sight-gag in John Waters’s 1981 Polyester, of an American drive-in showing “Three Marguerite Duras Hits,” plays about just as well today. But rather than the proliferation of Durases that have emerged in sundry biographical/critical treatments of the artist—she is by turns “unintelligible,” “narcissistic,” “difficult,” and “obscure”—her cinema has gained the stature of an unapproachable edifice, forbidding and remote. An unfortunate state of affairs for an artist so gripped by, as she herself put it, the perpetual desire “to tear what has gone before to pieces.” Destroy, She Said, her fourteenth novel and second feature, both released in 1969, emerged for her from “the idea of a book… that could be either read or acted or filmed or... simply thrown away.” The conceptual pivot of both versions, set in a rural hotel that’s something more like a sanitarium, is a phony card game used as a vehicle for interrogation and entrapment of one of the players; as always with Duras, the rules of the game are never quite clear at the outset. But echoing the final scene of Blow-Up (1966), it is the periodic sounds of a tennis match—heard but not seen, and commented on throughout the novel/film—which lay the groundwork for the plays with image and sound that recur through the films of hers that followed.

“I don’t think the image can ever replace what I called ‘the indefinite proliferation’ of the word,” she declared to Jean-Luc Godard in one of their three conversations on the twined subjects of son et image (spanning 1979–1987 and subsequently collected into the volume Duras / Godard Dialogues). But just as the New Wave icon’s work would continue to grapple with such questions—his disorienting, staccato bursts of image/sound would intensify in the ’80s, beginning with Every Man For Himself, in which Duras can be heard but not seen—Duras’s own oeuvre, through rather different means, sought to challenge preconceptions and overturn cinematic orthodoxies. Destroy, she said—and so she did, continually questioning received filmmaking methods, and through a kind of discovery by dissolution, conceiving of how things might be otherwise. Likewise, her most famous novel, the Prix Goncourt–winning The Lover (1984), speaks to the “indefinite proliferation of the word” mainly in terms of difference, its autobiographical scenario having been treated previously in The Sea Wall (1950) and later in L’amant de la Chine du nord(1991). Fittingly perhaps, The Lover (whose sundry editions place the photo of a young Duras on their covers), offers up a particularly intriguing coinage not in its finished form, but in the working title of one of its manuscripts: “La photo absolue” (or the absolute photograph). The discarded phrase gives name to a notion—possibly illusory—from which Duras’s practice, with its penchant for repetition and revision, charts its own course of difference.

Above: Baxter, Vera Baxter (1977)

The nautical metaphor is not incidental, for the allure of the sea recurs time and time again across her cinema. It is there amid the Marxist musings of Le camion(1977) and the death-obsessed dolor of L’homme atlantique (1981), though between the two it crests in Baxter, Vera Baxter (1977), where a tale of sexual jealousy and dependence becomes as if subsumed into the Atlantic, its glimmering immensity glimpsed in a series of liberating cuts away from the film’s glass-enclosed, terrarium-like interiors. Like many a seafaring raconteur, Duras favors the directness of speech—implicitly or explicitly, her films often take the form of a dialogue. The great difference is her willingness to futz with the usual hierarchies of image and sound: To step into her films, with their perpetual enfolding of narrative necessity, visual-aural abstraction, and sensorial impact, is to be set adrift in conflicting currents of obsessive prose and measured movement. An experience not entirely unlike attempting to converse with the ocean.

It is easy to lose oneself in the resultant flux. So alongside Godardian strategies of sensorial bombardment, we might well speak of Durassian drift. Her gliding camera in the first half-hour of Le Navire Night (1979), a film comprised largely of exchanges between Duras and then-apprentice Benoît Jacquot, is enough to demolish any lingering preconceptions of her directorial austerity. The film’s challenge is not so much an arid aesthetic of alienation, but a bewildering multiplicity of sensuous attractions and compulsive mysteries, here centered on the ambiguous relationship between a dying young girl and a man she knows only through a series of intimate phone calls. By the end, one has to sort through a set of nullities: between the absences and gaps of ultimately no consequence at all, and the voids around which one might center an entire existence. 

So it goes too with the spectral spaces of her most celebrated feature, India Song(1975), starring Delphine Seyrig as the wife of the French ambassador in a Calcutta of the colonial imagination (shot in the Château Rothschild in Versailles). The film’s narrative framework had been laid in her previous novels The Ravishing of Lol Stein(1964) and The Vice-Consul (1966), though from the cinema, there is also Orson Welles’s The Immortal Story (1968), with its particular, perverse interplay of material decadence, sexual domination, and stories told under the sway of the sea. For India Song’s entirely asynchronous soundtrack, though, filled in mainly by the composer Carlos d’Alessio (one of Duras’s closest collaborators), one has to look forward to something like Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love (2000), which likewise draws the viewer into a dispersed atmosphere of lush sorrow, and pushes its story scaffolding to extremes of aural detachment and spatial alienation. It is between these poles, in the dead heart of India Song, that one finds an earlier instance of la photo absolue: a framed portrait sitting atop a grand piano, and the point about which the film’s currents of desire eddy and swirl. Behind it, a mirror spanning the height of the wall. At the far end, an unused fireplace; to its right, a staircase. At the zenith, a crystal chandelier. At the nadir, a supine body—languid, lusty, and lacquered in sweat.

Above: India Song (1975)

Before it was a film, India Song existed as a play (commissioned by the National Theater in London in 1972, albeit never staged), an act of artistic doubling that was, for Duras, far from exceptional. (Le Navire Night opened on the stage the same week the film version was released in cinemas, while Baxter, Vera Baxter preceded the publication of Vera Baxter ou les Plages de l’Atlantique.) But whereas this cross-media tendency might, for some, have signaled some implosive synthesis of various art forms, what it revealed in Duras’s hands was the sticky stubbornness of medium specificity. If anything, these myriad excursions from page to screen to stage only made her more acutely aware of the indissoluble boundaries between each. There’s no precise analogue in cinema for the declarations of “silence” that recur like timed explosions throughout Duras’s writing, and there’s likewise no corollary in literature for the ceaseless celebratory thrum of the music that echoes throughout the near-entirety of Baxter, Vera Baxter, bringing to mind images of a pre-colonial paradise lost. Seyrig’s character calls the music an “exterior turbulence,” and apparently wary of the avowed certainties of her age, Duras seemed intent on seeking out or indeed creating such disturbances—in cinema and literature both.

Given her prolificity and predilection for creative destruction, any attempt to encapsulate Duras’s cinematic sensibility can seem counterproductive. But at the risk of bringing in an even more ill-defined concept, it should be said that her practice shares something with the essay film. There are certainly worse ways to describe Duras’s work than with Jean-Pierre Gorin’s definition of the film-essay as “the meandering of an intelligence that tries to multiply the entries and the exits into the material it has elected (or has been elected by). It is surplus, drifts, ruptures, ellipses, and double-backs.” Not the most conventional of artists, Duras often dispensed with explicit argumentative frameworks, even in her written essays. But if her works nonetheless manage to persuade or convince, to challenge or affirm, it is through the coiled force of their assertions, their apparent disregard for established pieties, and their perpetual drive to decenter and upend expectations. Unafraid to scavenge and repurpose, to reimagine and reinvent, she cycled through familiar memories and anecdotes and twice-treated tales, unabashed about producing works that might be considered adjunct, subsidiary, or otherwise incomplete. Which is to say that she did in the open what most artists do in secret. You could dismiss the results as mere exercises in style—but as in the case of fellow French literary giant Raymond Queneau, whom Duras famously interviewed in 1959, and with whom she shared a taste for judicious repetition, to do so would be to miss the distinctive, enduring appeal of her art. 

By the 1980s, her work in cinema was all but behind her—perhaps due to a general disillusion with the form (the Durassian paradox, per Jacquot: “She detested cinema but adored making films”), though more likely, her deteriorating health and alcoholism made the physical demands of the camera impossible. At the nadir, a supine body, hospitalized in 1982 for disintoxication treatment. At the zenith, the Prix Goncourt and renewed international acclaim. 

Towards the close of Le Navire Night, after the narrative proper (insofar as one exists) has concluded, Duras and Jacquot continue to converse on—what else?—the sea, and then on an uncompleted film, its creation stopped by death or by doubt. Certainly, Duras doubted many things before her death: the cinema, the fixity of the completed work, perhaps even the very notion of completion. But for a time, at least, the act of filmmaking remained—over nearly two decades, she picked up the camera again and again and again, finding worlds of difference with each repetition. For the cinema that she so doubted, that repetition made all the difference.

Above: Le Navire Night (1979)

[carsworldswiss]

5 Roadside Assistance Scams You Shouldn't Get Trapped In

Roadside assistance has become an inevitable service to rely on when you are stranded in a remote location during a long distance travel due to car breakdown or accident. Taking advantage of your helpless situation there are many towing companies that play a scam game to cheat you.  Here are five common roadside assistance scams to watch out for:

Fake Towing Companies: With numerous car towing companies in the UAE, there are also many scammers who intentionally cheat with hidden service costs.Scammers may set up fake towing companies or pose as real service providers online. They often offer unrealistically low prices to attract customers, but once they've towed the car, they inflate the bill with hidden fees. Always research towing companies thoroughly, check reviews and credentials, and ask for upfront pricing quotes before agreeing to any services.

Unauthorized Repairs: When a car recovery technician suggests a bunch of repair, understand the problem in your vehicle and analyze if it is really required. Hoax roadside assistance providers may claim that your car requires immediate repairs or replacements, even if it doesn't. They may exaggerate the severity of the issue or perform unnecessary work to overcharge you. Be cautious if a provider insists on performing repairs without your consent or pressures you to make quick decisions. Always get a second opinion if you're unsure about the repairs recommended by a technician.

Bait-and-Switch Tactics: Never get away with attractive deals or discounts used by fraudulent towing companies to attract customers. Scammers may advertise attractive deals for roadside assistance services, but once they arrive, they claim that the advertised service doesn't cover your specific situation. They then pressure you into paying for expensive upgrades or additional services. Always read the terms and conditions of any roadside assistance plan carefully and clarify what services are included before signing up.

Phony Mechanics: There are many mechanics who have no idea about the actual repair service required by the car during an emergency. They cover up the situation by pointing out some unnecessary service requirements for the car. Some scammers pose as mechanics offering roadside repairs but lack the skills or qualifications to perform the work properly. They may cause further damage to your car or fix substandard parts, leaving you with costly repairs down the lane.Choose reputable roadside assistance providers with certified technicians to ensure your car is in good hands.

Staged Accidents: When you drive long distances, you may suddenly meet with an unexpected and suspicious accident. Be cautious in such situations.In more worst scams, criminals may intentionally cause accidents or create hazards on the road to coax unsuspecting drivers into their trap. They then offer assistance or claim by representing a towing company, only to steal valuables from the car or demand excessive fees for their services. If you encounter an accident scene or roadside hazard, act with caution and call a trusted roadside assistance provider for help.

Your Trusted Car Towing Service Provider At All Times- Royal Swiss Auto Recovery

By staying vigilant and exercising caution, you can avoid falling victim to these common roadside assistance scams and ensure a safe and hassle-free experience during emergencies on the road. We highly recommend you to reach out to reliable car towing service providers in Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Sharjah in case of an emergency. For more details reach us at  +971 503 967 879.

[darkmaga-returns]

By J.B. Shurk

Pop quiz, hotshot: You just stole the Democrats’ presidential nomination from a dementia-addled nursing home patient without receiving a single vote from the electorate and while having the lowest approval rating of any modern veep.  Despite the nonstop efforts of corporate news propagandists to anoint you as a deserving heir, Americans rightly see you as a fake, foolish, insecure, insignificant, boozy, Canadian flop who has no business being behind the wheel of an automobile, let alone taking charge of a nuclear arsenal as commander-in-chief.

Do you (a) double down on crazy and find a string of sex-talking shock jocks to interview you about important public policies; (b) flood the country with illegal aliens so that Jim Clyburn’s fraudulent mail-in-ballot operations can overwhelm legitimate voters in battleground states; (c) wait for the FBI, CIA, and NSA to do what they do best by rigging the election in your favor; or (d) hope that Hillary Clinton, Joe Scarborough, Liz Cheney, and other Democrat mouthpieces can slander Donald Trump as a “dangerous Nazi” enough times to incite another attempt on his life?  What do you do?

It’s a trick question.  You do all of the above, of course.  Then you make yourself a white wine spritzer, sit back, and call a bunch of national weather shows to give them your unsolicited drunken advice about surviving hurricanes.  Everybody knows that when hundred-mile-an-hour winds are crashing against a terrified family’s home, nothing provides more comfort than listening to an inebriated chuckler blame “climate change deniers” for the catastrophic weather while taking credit for the heroic actions of emergency search and rescue personnel.  Kamala Harris is just the phone-in phony Americans need for serious times — not!

[sublimeobservationarcade]

Greed Gave Us The GFC & We Have Been Paying Ever Since

The Global Financial Crisis (GFC) grew out of the wage suppressing impacts of neoliberalism and its response to the lack of domestic economic demand and growth this engendered within Western economies in the late Eighties and Nineties. Manufacturing jobs were moved offshore to cheaper labour markets in the developing world. The cheaper consumer goods which were manufactured in China  were promoted to the folks back home and credit was encouraged so that they could purchase them. Do you remember how easy it became to get credit in the 1990’s? Greed gave us the GFC and we have been paying ever since. Orion at White House for Made in America Product Showcase (NHQ201807230016) by NASA HQ PHOTO is licensed under CC-BY-NC-ND 2.0

Financialization Fuelled The GFC

US dollars from China’s exports came back to the US, via the sale of Treasury Bonds and were used to fuel a credit boom where Americans were encouraged to go into debt to buy these consumer goods. A credit/debt spiral would fund economic growth and financialization would emerge out of this. Banks would securitize debt products and on-sell them to other financial institutions, pension funds, and these spread throughout the globalized financial services sector. It would become a perfect storm of unregulated, subprime mortgage loans which poisoned the well for everyone. Banks and insurance companies would bet on billion dollar derivatives in their bid to make ever greater profits for their investors.

F*cking The Economy & Getting Away With It

The amazing thing about the GFC is that no banker was ever prosecuted for their fraudulent and illegal behaviour in securitizing financial products which were destined and designed to fail. The absence of oversight was criminal in itself across the sector. Stock brokers and merchant bankers were bailed out by the federal government in the US. Socializing the hundreds of billions of dollar losses by Goldman Sachs, Merrel Lynch, and insolvent banks like Citi and Bank of America. ‘Too big to fail’ should have been tattooed across their foreheads for life. It is a feature of the failures of neoliberal economics that losses were socialized and profits went into the pockets of their wealthy investors. Billionaires have sprung up like weeds following a downpour. The Rise Of The Oligarchs Capitalism and its ‘so called’ free market is a phony story. The companies involved in today’s free market abhor competition and do everything possible to rig the game. Monopolies, duopolies, and oligopolies are so prevalent throughout western economies they attract little notice these days. Price setting and profit gouging is the norm and the standard in the 21C. Consumers have been shafted and have long lost their power in the market. The Silicon Valley tech corporations control the lives of modern folk, as they operate in a largely unregulated space. These companies and their oligarchs make the devices and software at the centre of our lives in the digital age. Social media tells hundreds of millions of people what to think every moment of every day. Generations of human beings stare in wonder into the small screens held in their hands. Elon Musk, the world’s richest man, has his X platform to communicate across the globe with 198 million followers. There are billionaires with strident agendas wishing to remake the world in their view. Facebook, Instagram, Tik Tok and the other social media platforms are purveyors of gossip and opinion made misinformation via their standing in the 21C community. The old media channels are dying off and their influence has become bespoke for various strands of demographics within markets and populations. September 11,President Donald J. Trump by National Archives and Records Administration is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0 American Democracy Under Threat Politics is at its lowest ebb and a popularity contest for merchants of grievance within a culture of complaint. Trump has been the king of this kind of thing over the last 9 years. He has degraded the American republic to such a level, it is on the nose globally for all to see. Perhaps, this has ultimately been a good thing in that it has forced a reinvigoration of what we call democracy. The Democrats through President Joe Biden and now Vice president Kamala Harris are campaigning on the importance of democracy to American life. It is akin to good vs evil, as the GOP is mired in the MAGA Trump cult and a reactionary party dedicated to policies designed to turn the clock back to a 1950’s style white America. The demographics of 21C America are a multiracial democracy and a land of liberated women who are not best served by any futile attempt at regressing the nation. History tells us that reactionary parties rarely win for long and that progress in inevitable in the larger scheme of things. Entitled white men wanting to live in a world where they do not have to share is not a future for a prosperous humanity. America’s past was the enslavement of captured Africans and the genocide of the continent’s Indigenous population. No matter how hard right wing folk want to deny this history it stands. It is time to even the playing field for real in terms of economic opportunities for all Americans. Donald Trump’s lies about immigration are more mistruths aimed at sewing fear among the white population. Ignorance about history, the actual history of a nation, allows convenient BS to infiltrate the collective consciousness. Demonizing Haitians is just another chapter in a long American tradition of telling lies to ignorant and lazy thinking folk. Elon Musk will facilitate the spread of this stuff, as it suits his purposes in manipulating the masses for a political outcome in getting a crooked President elected who will look after his economic interests. Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Neoliberal Economics & The Rigged Game America has long been in the grip of vested interests to the detriment of ordinary working people. Tens of millions of citizens aspiring to become billionaires feeds into easy manipulation by those political forces selling the kind of unregulated state they want, so as to protect and foster their own economic interests. The Reagan premise that government is the problem rather than the solution is a con, a scam, designed to fool ignorant folk. Good government is essential to a free and functioning society. Neoliberalism has given over the economy to market forces but these are not free market forces. No, they are large corporations, which have neutered their competition through mergers and take overs. The success of these corporate behemoths has created billionaires and more powerful companies. Their lobbying efforts have been huge in spending to ensure laws and legislation that feeds their bottom line. The few occasions when these giants have gone belly up, as in the GFC, government has stepped in and bailed them out. Socializing their huge losses, which means we the tax payers foot the bill. Super profits go to investors and super losses are borne by ordinary folk. This is neoliberalism, which Ronald Reagan ushered in back in the 1980’s and has been with us ever since. This is the economic system running the show right now and has fed the financialization of everything. Every part of your life, from healthcare, education, shelter, work, and recreation is driven according to financial markets and the concerns of private equity. Hospitals are owned by profit seeking firms. Life saving drugs are determined by companies hell bent on chasing super profits. Property is being defined by these giant companies financializing the economic levers like land values and rents. Higher education sees Harvard University worth some $50 billion and this is no outlier. “Ivy League colleges and universities like Stanford and MIT have amassed massive endowments, with wealthy alumni exerting considerable influence on university policy and even curricula. Harvard's endowment, at more than $50 billion, is the biggest among U.S. universities and is larger than the GDP of more than 120 nations, including countries such as Tunisia, Bahrain and Iceland.” - (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/harvard-endowment-2023-harvard-president-salary/) What is wrong with this? If money markets dwarf the sectors they purport to serve then we lose sight of what the ultimate purpose of these areas of life. Education is about educating our kids and young adults. A home is supposed to be about providing shelter and security. Healthcare should be about healing the sick. If all of these things become unaffordable for large parts of society we have lost our way via the financialization of these vital aspects of our lives. Governments have allowed corporations and their rigged markets to overwhelm the basic aspirations of their citizens. Profits over people. The financial interests of a few wealthy people shitting on the hopes of ordinary folk. Governments have been bought off in the past and this has to stop. If we are going to back Kamala Harris for a new future, this has to be front and centre in the Democratic platform. It is time to turn off the unregulated taps syphoning off the wealth of the nation to these billionaires and their companies. America must find new and fairer ways to succeed in the world. Financialization is a crock of shit and no layer of golden eggs for the majority of the people. Stop ripping off other Americans and start operating within the confines of what is good for the most people. Robert Sudha Hamilton is the author of America Matters: Pre-apocalyptic Posts & Essays in the Shadow of Trump. ©MidasWord Read the full article

[iowamedia]

Iowans warned about post-flooding scams

Following flooding throughout the state, Iowa Auditor of State Rob Sand urged Iowans and their community leaders to be on alert for scams on flood victims. According to the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), the most common fraud after a natural disaster includes fake housing inspectors and building contractors, phony disaster donation efforts and calls or texts requesting account…

[pheonix1t23]

Synagogue Rising is a phenomenal and brilliant work of Christian scholarship by Hugh Akins, a well-established author, activist and long-time leader in Catholic Action.*    

The book is best described in its subtitle: "A Catholic Worldview of Anti-Christian Judaism and Counterrevolutionary Resistance."  

However, far from having been written for Catholics, many Muslims and Jews have found this powerful work of immense value.  The book is a mighty call to arms, a last-ditch, eleventh-hour, life-or-death call to all men of good will to rally on the front lines - while we are still free to fight back and drive the enemy from our shores.  

Certainly no work of anti-Semitism, the author of this tremendous, outstanding 750+ page tome insists that not all Jews are our enemies, only the guilty ones, only those who have been driven mad by a Talmudic-inspired anti-Christian fanaticism that will not rest until every non-Jew on earth is either slain or enslaved under a New World Order of Talmudic construct.   

It is these few Jewish psychopaths - those behind the French and Russian revolutions, the two world wars, Vatican II, 9/11 and the phony War on Terror - and clearly not the Jewish people as a whole, that Akins argues must be exposed, resisted and defeated, lest Organized Evil emerges triumphant and the Light of Christ be extinguished from the world of man

[p-k-akshay2697]

Explore Emerging Trends in Digital Marketing: Opportunities and Challenges

This article explores some of the new developments in digital marketing, including the challenges and opportunities they provide.

1,Both machine learning and artificial intelligence (AI): Possibilities: AI makes personalized marketing possible through content optimization, chatbots for customer support, data analysis, and predictive analytics for targeted advertising. Difficulties: AI implementation calls for a large capital expenditure and a highly qualified workforce. Furthermore, protecting data privacy and promoting ethical usage of AI are difficult tasks.

2.Optimization of Voice Search: Possibilities: Businesses may target local audiences, improve user experience, and optimize content for conversational inquiries with voice search. Challenges: Understanding natural language inquiries and modifying SEO tactics are necessary for voice search optimization. Furthermore, there is growing rivalry for voice search results. 3,Virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR): Possibilities: By providing immersive experiences for virtual tours, interactive advertisements, and product demos, AR and VR can improve consumer engagement. Obstacles: Creating AR/VR content calls for specific knowledge and resources. Furthermore, it can be difficult to guarantee compatibility and accessibility across devices.

4,Evolution of Influencer Marketing Possibilities: With the growth of micro- and nano-influencers as well as a variety of content formats (including video and live streaming), influencer marketing is still developing and offers chances for real and focused brand partnerships. Challenges: In light of worries about phony followers, influencer trustworthiness, and disclosure laws, it's imperative that influencer collaborations maintain authenticity and openness.

5,Data protection and privacy regulations: Possibilities: As the importance of data privacy grows, companies can cultivate consumer trust by enforcing transparent data practices and adhering to laws like the CCPA and GDPR. Problems: Businesses must modify their data gathering, storage, and usage procedures in response to stricter privacy laws, which may have an effect on their ability to target customers and execute targeted marketing campaigns.

6,User Experience and Personalization of Content: Possibilities: By presenting pertinent messaging to specific audiences, personalized content and user experiences raise engagement and conversion rates. Challenges: It's important to strike a balance between privacy issues and customisation, as well as to avoid over-targeting or invasive advertising. Furthermore, it might be difficult to create and manage personalized information at scale.

7,Dominance of Video Marketing: Possibilities: Storytelling, product launches, and audience engagement on sites like YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram are all made possible by the prevalence of video content in digital marketing. Difficulties: Producing top-notch video content demands knowledge and resources. Furthermore, it can be difficult to stand out in the crowded video scene and calculate video ROI precisely.

While there are a lot of chances for businesses to improve their strategies and interact with consumers in novel ways thanks to developing trends in digital marketing, there are also a lot of problems associated with technology adoption, data privacy, content production, and regulatory compliance. A strategic strategy, people and technology investments, and a persistent emphasis on providing value to customers while honoring their privacy and preferences are all necessary for success in navigating these changes.

[indepthjaybeats]

MTM CALHOUN - "RA RA"

Introducing the lyrical powerhouse known for his unapologetic authenticity and raw honesty - meet Mtm Calhoun. In an industry flooded with phonies and backstabbers, he emerges as a beacon of genuine expression and unwavering integrity.

With a flow as sharp as a double-edged sword and rhymes that cut through the facade, Mtm Calhoun spits truth like no other. Born from the streets, his lyrics are a testament to the struggles and triumphs of his upbringing, painting vivid portraits of life in the concrete jungle.

Fed up with the fake smiles and shady deals that permeate the hip-hop scene, Mtm Calhoun refuses to play by the rules set by the industry's puppet masters. Instead, he embraces his individuality and stays true to his roots, unafraid to call out the imposters and phonies who pollute the culture he holds dear.

With each verse, Mtm Calhoun delivers a blistering critique of the status quo, exposing the hypocrisy and corruption that run rampant behind the glitz and glamour. His rhymes serve as a wake-up call to those who have lost sight of the essence of hip hop - a voice for the voiceless, a platform for truth and justice.

So if you're tired of the fakes and snakes in hip hop, look no further than Mtm Calhoun. With a mic in hand and fire in his soul, he's here to reclaim the throne and usher in a new era of authenticity and realness. Brace yourself for a lyrical revolution - because Mtm Calhoun is ready to take the world by storm.

[johnhmcintosh]

THE AGONY AND THE ECSTACY

JOHN MCINTOSH

An ‘Update’ on the status of the current ‘dream’ scenario.

In times of profound change such as now, the SHIFT into an era of Light and Peace, a dark and shadowy pall hangs over what is leaving, the last era, blending its foul odour with the Divine fragrance of what is emerging. Separating these two very different stories can be daunting to say the least. A sea of mis-information seems to dress each new chapter of the NEW and it can be exhausting dealing with the constant swing of feelings as hope is followed by disappointment and so-called credible ‘intel’ leads over and over again to disillusionment. The weight of it can be crushing and most definitely debilitating in a multitude of ways. It’s easy to fall into morose moments of depression no matter how lofty your focus may have been before the massive changes began.

Notwithstanding, there is an end to it, an end to the confusion as the New Era expands across the horizon, swallowing the darkness. For those who follow these changes as the new global ‘story’ takes form [in the dream it is], the under belly of society’s engine – money – has dropped its flimsy foundations called fiat [money that has ‘value’ simply because someone says it does – nothing more]. This has been almost universally replaced with gold or other hard assets. This means that those who have controlled the dream for the last 120 years [some call the Deep State] have been cut off at the knees together with every tentacle that has infiltrated every aspect of the world most call reality.

When the foot has been taken off the accelerator a car will coast a while until its forward momentum ceases. This is what is happening right now as the effects of the flow of endless phony money printing has been cut off. Every nefarious enterprise from child trafficking [which has been a ‘real’ epidemic] to the depopulation agenda [no less pervasive], and a maze of other dastardly activities the public is only now getting a whiff of … is now coming to a halt. The Light emanating from the New Era will soon redistribute abundance to a world literally on its last legs. Many will not see that new world having succumbed to the ‘jab’ but those who remain will soon experience a dream-world that could scarcely be imagined … an ecstatic world that will swallow the agony of recent years completely in the benevolent rays of a NEW dawn.

Hang on … this NEW dream beckons just around the corner.

-image by Solveig Larsen

SELF DISCOVERY books by John McIntosh https://www.johnmcintosh.info/copy-of-books

[departmentq]

As we get closer to elections in the US (November 7th, as well as 2024) Americans are beginning to get a lot of these political mailers.

Mailed by a citizens group, called Californians for Affordable and Reliable Energy (CARE). This is their mission statement on the website.

So, I decided to dig deep, I found a few environmental groups that claimed they worked with big oil.

Digging deeper, I found this article in the SF Chronicle.

Here are some screenshots of the more salient facts from the article.

The Western States Petroleum Association was began in 1907, as an industry trade group.

Here are it's member companies:

Most of Tumblrinas will be doing this kind of research already.

If a proposition on your local/state ballot, find out who's funding the yes/no vote, usually they'll reflect or run counter to your values.