#remember the whole women are feeble creatures

[atopcat]

The more I learn about “benevolent misogyny” the more I realise how much gaslighting Muslim women have been exposed to, indoctrinated to believe everything Muslim men do is actually in benefit for them.

[etruatcaelum]

Heaving memories break against older certainties battered by fierce gales of emotion: fear, anguish, rage, the pain of ancient hurt screaming across the surface with a violent celerity. But that old lost music stirs in the deep under the skin of the sea, strange-familiar song from beyond remembering.

Evernight is safe, now. They know it and the knowing is a half-forgotten secret scratched into the marrow of the earth, faded long since and found again. In the quiet place beneath the world, relief stanches the wound. Sometimes, when the pain is very great, it can be answered only through cautery; as wildfire reinvigorates the forest. But it is better not to forget.

Peace will come after the storming is ended and the wound made whole again. The parts of Evernight that are not grimm cannot know this: they are like froth on the wave, like the wave that shatters on the rocks, knowing nothing of the deep current.

Light illuminates; light blinds.

Sorrow ripples through the horde when the death-light floods their nest. The fire-blind parts hurt in their ignorance, and Evernight cannot teach them without the speaking parts of itself. But– but! Evernight knows something of the proper care and keeping of the fire-blind parts of itself.

These are fragile little creatures. Should they want for food, they slowly wither and die. If they want for water, they wither quickly and die. For want of enough time lying still, their minds wither as they die. The smallest imbalance in bodily chemistry sickens them, and sometimes they die; and they are warlike, innately warlike, for any unknown organism passing through the membraneous outer bounds of their territory meets an onslaught of self-destructive violence. This, too, sickens them, and of course sometimes they die.

Pitiable children of the God Unliving!

So it is when the fire-blind wounded-and-wounding part falls weeping before them, the guarding part prowls forward to nose at quaking shoulders: the better to know. Evernight understands a little of the patterns and their meaning, enough to know that this one asks for help.

What ails, the guardian determines, is the withering and imbalance wrought by want of food. It nibbles at the hair, which cannot feel pain, to no avail; then stands without motion for their contemplation. Many small-souled creatures dwelling in their territory are good for the fire-blind parts to eat, with much effort first to prepare it for feeble jaws and brittle teeth. No, Evernight will deliver this one into the care of a different fire-blind part instead. Sometimes it is best for like to care for like.

It is good, then, that the guardian is very large. Smaller parts could carry this one, but not so easily without hurting. The guardian opens its jaws and scoops the fire-blind part up in its mouth, and it is so gentle and careful that not one of its fangs pierce the skin even as the limbs dangle and flail about. In this way, Evernight bears this one to the nest-chamber where the fire-blind guarding part is making the food preparations.

———

"–what."

The honed steel in Cinder's voice is so like the tone Salem takes whenever she feels unsettled that Summer almost manages to smile, even through her dread. Red mist swirls within the seer's head as the two young women on the other side trade darting glances; Winter ventures, "I didn't know the summer maiden was one of… our… assets."

"She's not," Summer says.

Uncomfortable silence emanates from the seer while she gives the reheating soup a vigorous stir. From the sound of it, Cinder is scratching the table with her claws—back and forth, rhythmic—but she holds her tongue.

Probably, if Summer had to guess, fuming that Watts had survived just to go and do this.

"I see," Winter mutters, glancing at Cinder again; then, with very careful neutrality, "Do you think she'll strike at Vacuo if– when she fails to open the vault?"

"She isn't like—"

"Salem," Cinder cuts in, more silk than sharpened steel now, "isn't in Vacuo."

Winter's mouth pinches again, just as it did when she learnt of the connection between Cinder and Salem—worried, Summer thinks—but she keeps it to herself; Cinder whirls away from the desk to pace furiously.

"Where–" Summer begins, but a gritty rumble interrupts her. She turns.

She blinks.

It's so unusual for the larger grimm in Salem's horde to roam this part of the house that Summer often forgets that the monstrous doors and archways of Evernight are not comically oversized after all. Fourteen years, and the sight of an ursa the size of an airbus lumbering into the kitchen with Tyrian limp as a ragdoll its mouth still startles her. Grimm look so much bigger indoors.

Rumbling again, the ursa lays Tyrian on the table and then retreats the way it came. Summer blinks again. No sign of blood, and even if Tyrian had taken it into his head to provoke the horde into mauling him, or whatever, they're not cats. The grimm would've just eaten him.

Maybe he'd fainted.

"…Up and at 'em," Summer says, deadpan. "Heating up soup. You want a bowl?"

Great. Now he has two insane Salem fanatics trying to threaten everybody else with eye displays.

Yes, yes, he thinks, tired, but for once knows better than to say, the main characters of the universe are actually the immortal divorcees who are gambling with all of our lives in the hopes that the gods will either pity us or be destroyed. Trust me, I am under no illusions about that.

Really, about the only thing that keeps Watts from flinching away from the sudden outpouring of angry white light is that he and Tyrian would probably have been killed on impact if Summer was trying to hurt them. Still, his expectations that Tyrian will cower are unmet: if anything, he's pretty damn sure Tyrian's eyes have taken on an even brighter purple glow, in contrast to Summer's silver-eyed fury.

"I'm not," Watts tries, "going to try and convince you of all people about anything to do with my thoughts on Salem. But-"

"Funny to hear you, Summer, speak of sympathy," Tyrian is half-snarling, though, anxiety replaced with a fresh round of anger that Arthur is sure will get somebody killed if he doesn't find Tyrian an acceptable outlet. "As if I don't feel worse than you do about-"

Watts grabs Tyrian hard on the arm to stop him from following Summer, not hard enough to really hurt him but surely hard enough that Tyrian will read a warning in the gesture as Watts starts to tug him down the hall.

"Stop it, before you're the next one to say something you regret. Let her alone. She's your friend and she's right. This has gone on long enough. It won't be any good for anyone if we all tear each other apart-"

"Ah! But it wasn't enough when you drove Salem to suicide?" Tyrian yells, and Watts is starting to think that grabbing a serial killer when every instinct in Tyrian's body was screaming about wanting to live up to that title wasn't his smartest move.

"What do you want me to say, Tyrian?" (and he does his best to keep his eyes on Tyrian's and not on the arch of the tail) "I can't- apologize to Salem or make amends or do anything at all to help her if I don't know where she is. She's immortal. I never thought- I never meant-"

"You-" Tyrian's eyes are practically leaking venom of their own, their glow really is rivaling Summer's, and Watts is convinced that Tyrian is going to try and tear him apart with his bare hands. "You- this is- your fault- I'm so- I know you're scared and in pain and I want to help you- but- I'm- I'm angry- with you-"

"You have every right to be. And whatever Summer makes," Watts says, softly, in what he half-expects to be his last words, "don't eat too much of it, or you'll get sicker. Alright?"

Tyrian freezes at the sudden display of care, then shoves away hard and flies off down the hall. Watts doesn't even have a chance to call out in warning- perhaps it's fortunate, then, that Tyrian goes past Summer and disappears down some side corridor.

"...I'll be in my lab," Watts whispers, although he doubts anyone can hear, and teleports away.

(He thinks, briefly, that he should make use of the airship after all - pack his bags in it and fly away, back to Anima.

And then he counts to ten, and lies down.

He doubts he'll sleep, not knowing where Tyrian is or what he's doing, but it's worth a try, especially when to follow after his partner right now might just upset Tyrian more.

I will tell him goodbye, I will build him that server, but - it will be in all of their best interests that I don't ask him to come with me.)

--

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments.

Tyrian feels like he could tear his own throat out. Or go to the moor and find some hapless animal to hunt and drink the blood of. Or steal the airship and go to Vacuo himself.

Summer, who had willingly abandoned her own children and seemed to treat their apparent deaths as nothing. Watts, who had faked his death due to his own ego and had driven their master to hers. At least Tyrian was open about being a monster-

He rounds another corner and there she is.

Gwendolyn.

A particularly large Ursa that Tyrian had taken a liking to and named. She had always seemed tolerant or even appreciative of his presence - letting him lounge on her back, standing still so he could help her shed her atrum, even approaching when he entered rooms.

As purple as Tyrian's eyes are, his tail stays still.

"Salem," he chokes. "She can- hear me- through you, sometimes. Can't she? Please- tell her- I'm-"

His eyes turn yellow. He hits the floor, bowing before the creature. He knows his misery must be tantalizing, and he doesn't care.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I've- I thought I had- been of use to you and helped you- and I- I wanted to- enact your new plan with you and make you happy and- I've failed. I know I- I should have-"

Should have what? Used his stinger without envenomating it, the day he was attacked by a stalker in Mistral so long ago? Turned Arthur down when Arthur had confessed to him? Swallowed down the grief when Arthur had seemingly died? Dredged up River and been kind to Cinder, so no one had to die at all? Just let Salem and Summer insist that he and Arthur both had done more and worse to Cinder than they actually had? Been passively accepting of all his failures, of all his punishments and tortures, of all the things no one else seemed to get? Just let them assume his desire to see the girl punished was out of jealousy when it was confusion about the favoritism shown in allowing her to get away with murder, and pain over Arthur and anger and why couldn't he ever be devoted properly why why why- Should he have tried to stop at least one of Summer's daughters from falling? Made himself eat every time he didn't feel the hunger? Never left the farm in the first place?

What's the point in wondering. Really, truly, what is the point.

"Please- let the horde do whatever it must to me to make you feel better. I don't- I don't want to hurt you, or Artie, or Summer. And I'm afraid I will, afraid I have, I- Please don't- go away. Come home. I do care about you, I'm sorry- I'm so sorry."

This is groveling. Don't grovel. Repulsive-

"I'm sorry."

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 67: Cauldron of Despair

Chapters: 67/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Has A Bad Time, But Like, Dude Did Some Bad Shit

Summary:  It’s easy to forget what he did.

Thor circled the Frost Giant's corpse trying to decide what to do about it.

“Well. This is a mess.” He said, staring down into his brother's azure face. “And I'm not just talking about body cleanup.”

“She doesn't listen!” Loki seethed. “Why does she always go headlong into danger; does she not realize what it does to me? I have never run so fast in my life!”

“Mortal women seem blessed with an excess of virtues.” Thor shrugged. “Curiosity, courage, and responsibility among them. Jane was no different. You remember.”

“I do. I also remember that she managed to avoid getting badly hurt, because she knew how to run and hide!”

“Perhaps. But she also-”

“Norns, I don't care! Get this thing off me, you great oaf!”

“Temper, temper.” Thor chided, rolling the body over with his boot. “You're so angry, you've gone blue in the face.”

“I will kill you.” Loki snarled, squirming free.

“You were certainly insistent that she not see you. Still keeping that secret?”

“Shut up. We have to get this cleaned up. We have to assess the damage, and we have to check the tunnels for more. How did it get here? Is it a relic from the old war? How many are down there?”

“I will go check.” Thor volunteered. “You should go to the healing wing and try to calm things down. No doubt it's a little hectic there right now.”

Loki nodded, waiting the few moments it took to regain his milky complexion, then the brothers parted ways for opposite sides of the palace complex.

                                                                                                                                                    *****

“So he was frozen in here? Like some kind of cell?” Thor glanced around the scintillating bubble in the ice. There was a large slot in one wall, where the giant had presumably been sleeping. There were objects strewn about, covered in ice, that to Thor, looked like they could be a Frost Giant's version of a soldier's mess kit.

Thor knew that no humans had been down in these tunnels. The government of Iceland hadn't even known they were there. This Jotun must have been here for a very long time, sleeping in the ice. Perhaps a trapped soldier, perhaps a lost traveler.

His journey was over now. It was actually rather unfortunate, Thor mused. Even though they had invaded and killed many humans, a Frost Giant could do much good on Earth now. They could generate ice at will. On a world where important glaciers were rapidly disappearing, a Frost Giant ally could be quite successful.

How frightened he must have been, to wake up suddenly, alone, not knowing how many years had passed. Still in the mindset of a war that had long ended, surrounded by enemies. Everywhere he ran, more enemies, more unfamiliar surroundings, more fear and desperation.

Yes, he had killed people on his rampage, and yes, Thor had killed him. But, as a warrior, Thor sympathized. This was tragic, all around.

“We need to clean this area out.” He said. “Gather and clean all of these objects. Do not proceed with digging unless accompanied by einherjar. We won't know if there are more until I bring Heimdall down here.”

“What shall we do if there are more, my king?” One of the clean up crew asked.

“We dig them out.” Thor said. “Slowly. Under my supervision.”

“Could we not just...leave them there?” One ventured. “Stop digging and leave them encased in ice?”

“The climate on this world is changing.” Thor explained to him. “There is a strong possibility that the ice will melt no matter what we do, and free them anyway. Best to do it under close watch, where they can be subdued, and their situation explained to them.”

“Mercy, my king?”

“It is a new age, and we are a people reborn.” Thor proclaimed. “We can try doing things in a new way.”

                                                                          *****

“She will be fine.” Bjarkhild assured Loki. “It turns out that our Blood Burn remedies are very effective on mortals. She will have sore spots on her arm for a few days, no more.”

“And Kolla?” Loki asked.

“Two broken ribs, a broken wrist, and a broken nose. She will have to stay under a Soul Forge for a week or so, but is expected to make a full recovery.”

“Very good. The messenger lad?”

Bjarkhild sighed deeply. “He will lose the arm. A terrible shame, but the damage was just too great. Perhaps if he had stayed laying down when he was hit, but pushing himself to go find you...”

Loki sat silent for a moment.

“We will Retire him.” He said finally. “It's the best we can do for him now. I will draw up the papers, if you will sign them.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Bjarkhild agreed.

Asgard loved it's heroes, and provided for them, whether military or civilian. A soldier had a pension, guaranteed care for if they were grievously injured during noble battle. A civilian, however, wasn't expected to put themselves in harm's way. For those that did, and suffered for it, there was the institution of Retirement. All of his needs would be taken care of; he would never be without food, home, quality clothing, or respect.

Bjarkhild was right. The messenger's arm might have been saved, had he simply lay still and waited for medics to come to him. But instead, he had found Loki, to warn him of the danger, which gave him the head start needed to reach you in time. This was a heroic act on par with any einherjar.

One day, they would have their technology up and running at the capacity Old Asgard once had. And if the man wanted it, a nearly seamless prosthetic could be offered. But Asgardians tended to cherish their battle wounds, which was why Odin never got an mechanical eye, and great-uncle Tyr never replaced his hand. They could have, of course, but they had earned those wounds in the defense of Asgard. It was a matter of personal pride.

“Shall I have you notified when I release her, or should I just send her to you?” Bjarkhild asked.

“Send her to me.” Loki said. “You need all your people here. How many are...”

“Beyond my help?” Bjarkhild finished. “Six. The other ten are in various stages of injury, but expected to pull through.”

Loki nodded solemnly. Six of their all-too-rare people.

He left the healing wing, noticing Gloa hovering anxiously in the corridor outside. He approached, and took her by the arm.

“Gloa, I want to thank you for-”

She whirled with a startled cry, and struck him across the face.

Loki quickly stamped down the stab of rage within him, watching the emotions fly across her features: Shock, realization, acceptance, and finally ownership over what she had just done. She jerked herself out of his grasp.

“Don't just grab me!” She snapped. “I don't care who you are, you don't have permission to lay hands on me whenever you want!”

“Gloa...” He growled.

“Don't talk to me right now. Not when your filthy kind has robbed me of yet another person I love!”

Loki flinched. Gloa's family had not come through Ragnarok whole. He knew she blamed him for it, for unleashing Surtr, and he didn't know how to explain that it had been Thor's idea without seeming like he was just passing the blame.

“Gloa, your father and uncle were brave warriors, and we honor them-”

“My father and uncle were heroes, and they died saving the people of Asgard!” Gloa interrupted. “I am satisfied for them. They rest in Valhalla with all those who died well.”

“Then why do you blame me?” He demanded.

“Not for them! For my brother!”

“Your brother?”

“You don't even remember. My brother was chosen as a guard in the Allfather's vault. We were all so proud.” Gloa scoffed bitterly. “The eve of Thor's coronation-the first one-he was guarding the Cask of Ancient Winters. He was murdered by invading Frost Giants, who sneaked in to steal it.”

And just like that Loki's throat closed, a fist of guilt squeezing his heart.

“I know it was you who let them in.” Gloa accused, tears rimming her eyes. “Maybe you didn't directly admit to it in that horrendous, self-aggrandizing play you had written about yourself, but I could read between the lines. The sick justification for your actions- all because you had decided that Thor was unfit to rule! That he didn't think things through, and he would get us killed through his bad decisions. But how are you any different? You were perfectly willing to sacrifice Asgardian lives-the very lives you claimed to have been trying to protect-for your own agenda! And it got you nothing! You shattered my family for nothing!”

Speechless, Loki stepped back under the sheer unexpected force of the tirade. What could he possibly say?

“You wanted to thank me for standing next to your little pet project? Pah! She is feeble, and brief, and weak, but she's not a coward, and she actually stood for our children. She may not be worth much, but she is still too good for you.”

Gloa stomped away, furious tears streaming down her face, leaving Loki stunned.

                                                                          *****

Thor gazed over the objects arranged on the table before him. All the scattered debris from the frozen cave, cleaned and brought to him for observation. These definitely made up a soldier's mess kit, and perhaps a higher class soldier, if the quality of the items we an indication. There were dishes and cutlery, hewn from bone and ivory, carved with foreign designs-Frost Giant art. There was decayed leather bedding and bags, waterskins, and a pack for rations that had long since rotted away.

And, untouched in the ice near where the giant had slumbered, a diary. Velum and ink from the strange sea creatures of Jotunheim, bound in leather, with ivory plates, it was a precious artifact from a thousand years before.

Thor picked up a page turning stick and very carefully opened the book. The ink that the Frost giants extracted from their oceanic beasts was thick, so thick that it raised slightly from the pages, making the letters look carved, rather than written.

Thor was not familiar with Frost Giant writing; until recently, he would not have thought they were literate at all. He had to wonder if examples of Frost Giant writing had been more common before their defeat at the hands of Asgard's armies, before the claiming of the Casket. What kind of dark age had that defeat plunged them into?

As Thor gazed at the unfamiliar runes, they resolved themselves in his mind into something he understood as if he had been raised on it; it was simply automatic. He read a few pages, absorbing what they revealed, until he realized that he could, in good conscience, read no more. This was meant for someone else.

This was meant for Loki.

                                                                           *****

Consequence. Every action set off a chain of events that never ended. Loki would never get the chance to be a good man again, because the fallout of his deeds would stretch out into forever. He would never actually be able to make amends. He could not restore Gloa's brother to life. All of eternity would pass without him. Without her brother, and without the other guard. He hadn't even considered their lives while he schemed. Hadn't known their names, nor attended their funerals. They really had just been a means to an end for him, acceptable casualties.

And he had considered himself more concerned with the safety of Asgard than Thor had been. What a fool! He had been exactly the same as his brother, only more secretive about it. Moreover, Thor's actions regarding Jotunheim, while irresponsible, had not actually cost any Asgardian lives. But Loki's actions regarding Thor's irresponsibility had. In a way, Loki had tried to play father to Thor, but he wasn't a father yet, and had failed in all of the ways he had blamed Odin for failing. And Asgard was poorer for his actions: Families shattered, people bereaved, grief and emptiness that would flow on until time ended.

Perhaps Gloa had been right all along. Perhaps he simply was the actual worst, undeserving of the happiness he had attained. Unworthy of you.

Certainly you had never done anything to endanger your world, or any others. You only had one murder under your belt, and it was not only self defense, but it had also been erased by the great reality reset. You were practically innocent. What had he actually done to earn your love?

All he had done was kidnap you and destroy your life. Take you away from your home and family, and force you into a new life and career, been rude, frightened you, kept secrets. Was still keeping secrets.

He shouldn't have yelled at you. He had been overwhelmed by fear, and adrenaline, the fog of war, but he still didn't have to yell. He had acted like an ogre to one of the few people who loved him.

His dazed wandering had brought him back to his only place of real safety; his bedroom, the black sheepsking rug in front of the faux fire. The place where he held you. He needed to hold you.

He ached for you. For your warm embrace, the comfort of you. Bjarkhild had said you would be released soon, mostly unharmed. He waited, wallowing in his torment.

He shot up to his knees the instant he heard you enter the chambers, hope suffusing him. He heard the door to your little room open and close, then nothing else.

His heart split and sank down, as he laid down flat on the rug.

[ceceblogs]

A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens: Favorite quotes.

CHAPTER IX, BOOK II.

Other sound than the owl’s voice there was none, save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for it was one of those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again.

CHAPTER XIII, BOOK II.

“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul. (...) Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent for ever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it. (...) All through it, I have known myself to be quite undeserving. And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire - a fire, however, inseparable in its nature from myself, quickening nothing, lighting nothing, doing no service, idly burning away. (...) Let me carry through the rest of my misdirected life, the remembrance that I opened my heart to you, last of all the world; and that there was something left in me at this time which you could deplore and pity. (...) In the hour of my death, I shall hold sacred the one good remembrance - and shall thank and bless you for it - that my last avowal of myself was made to you, and that my name, and my fault, and miseries were gently carried in your heart. May it otherwise be light and happy! (...) When you see your own bright beauty springing up anew at your feet, think now and then that there is a man who would give his life, to keep a life you love beside you!”

CHAPTER XVI, BOOK II.

So does a whole world, with all its greatness and littleness, lie in a twinkling star. And as mere human knowledge con split a ray of light and analyse the manner of its composition, so, sublimer intelligences may read in the feeble shining of this earth of ours, every though and act, every vice and virtue, of every responsible creature on it.

“Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.”

“Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all my soul, that we shall see the triumph.”

“But it is your weakness that you sometimes need to see your victim and your opportunity, to sustain you. Sustain yourself without that. When the time comes, let loose a tiger and a devil; but wait for the time with the tiger and the devil chained - not shown - yet always ready.”

“A great woman, a strong woman, a grand woman, a frightfully grand woman!”

CHAPTER XX, BOOK II.

“Remember how strong we are in our happiness, and how weak he is in his misery!”

CHAPTER XXI, BOOK II.

No man every really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a blameless though an unchanged mind.

CHAPTER XXIII, BOOK II.

For in these times, as the mender of roads worked, solitary, in the dust, not often troubling himself to reflect that dust he was and to dust he must return.

CHAPTER XXIV, BOOK II.

Then, that glorious vision of doing good, which is so often the sanguine mirage of so many good minds, arose before him.

The unseen force was drawing him fast to itself, now, and all the tides and winds were setting straight and strong towards it.

CHAPTER I, BOOK III.

Troubled as the future was, it was the unknown future, and in its obscurity there was ignorant hope.

CHAPTER III, BOOK III.

“All our lives, we have seen our sister-women suffer, in themselves and in their children, poverty, nakedness, hunger, thirst, sickness, misery, oppression and neglect of all kinds?”

CHAPTER VI, BOOK III.

He was recompensed for his suffering, he was proud in his strength.

CHAPTER IX, BOOK III.

“If you could say, with truth, to your own solitary heart, tonight: ‘I have secured to myself the love and attachment, the gratitude or respect, of no human creature; I have won myself a tender place in no regard; I have done nothing good or serviceable to be remembered by!’, your seventy-eight years would be seventy-eight heavy curses; would they not?”

Then the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died, and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to Death’s dominion.

CHAPTER XII, BOOK III.

“Then tell Wind and Fire where to stop, but don’t tell me.”

CHAPTER XV, BOOK III.

The great magician who majestically works out the appointed order of the Creator, never reverses his transformations.

[floosies]

bury a friend: The Story of Noctua

pairing: steve rogers x possessed!oc x mcu!au

summary: there have been sightings of a dark creature who vanishes with night and in the mornings only remains of once living people are found scattered in open fields or forests nearby.

warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of attempted suicide, violence, gore, cursing, mentions/scenes of sexual nature.

Please read with discretion. 18+ content.

A/N: This is my first attempt at something more dark. It’s been in my brain since hearing some of biilie’s works and quiet frankly I want to venture into new territory. However, I understand the severity of some topics that I will write about. If you or someone you know is in need please look at these resources

Tags: @indecisivedolly​

Series Masterlist

Part 5: Cold, Cold Heart

It took some time before they let the man get out of the room. His mind was steady fast on her. Was she dead? Why did he care? She was no better than him, and murdered people for sport. Still he raced to the med bay, with hopes she was doing well. When neared the entrance he found Steve waiting there, his face full of concentration. “What’d they say?” The look he gave his friend made Bucky’s heart drop.

Ruth was a little girl that greeted all the creatures of the woods. The kindest soul anyone could ever meet. It was what Tenebrae admired about her. What her parents saw from the great beyond. A kindred spirit with good intentions. Yet, here she laid feeble and fighting to wake up. She wouldn’t give up, especially since she only just discovered her freedom to be herself. 

“Cho, you’re joking right?” It made sense, but a part of Bucky seemed to be in disbelief. The doctor shook her head though, “this girl seriously malnourished, under weight, and has serious bone damage. I’m surprised she’s alive.” It was reaching nightfall, Steve was still hoping she’d wake up. Outside the door of her room was the elderly man from the previous night, “Tenebrae right?” He smiled at the boy, “Bucky. How is she?” The being could read the anger well on the boy. “How could you let that happen to her?” With a look of shock he mockingly answered the boy, “I thought she was a monster? Is that not how you viewed her?” Of course this took him aback. 

Steve heard the voice of someone else, he left the room to see the two men standing in silence. “Sir? Can I help you?” The elderly man looked at Steve, but Bucky answered, “it’s the Tenebrae thing.” “I am not a thing, I am an entity.” Being ever polite Steve asked why he had returned, “she is like my daughter. I must check on her well being.” A scoff arose from the one armed soldier at the very comment, “she’s malnourished, and has multiple bone fractures. How caring.” Because of its human form, it could finally express emotion, “those bone fractures came from a terrible early childhood. Or had she not mentioned what drove her to nearly kill herself?’

The silence was not one of awkwardness nor anger, but of guilt. The entity explained her misfortunes. How she would still smile and try to make those wretched people love her. How they did everything to try and break her. Explaining why all the rotten souls were killed, and how she cried after kill out of guilt. Steve wanted to cry, ever the sentimentalist. “So when you go and call her a monster remember that she is very aware of her impending flaws soldat.” The elderly man whispered something and then disappeared.

She woke up in the middle of the night, she knew where she was even if she had never been through the whole of the compound. There were so many floors to go through, this time she’d found a room filled with records and a great gramophone. She found an old french record that made her smile. It didn’t take long after to sense she was going to have company. She had already guessed who. 

He walked in with an urgency, “Doctor Cho said you’re malnourished and fractured everywhere.” He then proceeded to take seat, “well I’m still alive though.” The record play in the background, “did you know those people weren’t your real parents.” Her puzzled look was a quick indicator that this was new to her, “the spirit thing told us about your upbringing.” There was no time to react, her palm left a burning sensation his cheek. Her eyes began to brim with tears, “you are an empty shell of man. Your soul is rotten, if you still have one. You vicious, cold blooded, cumberground.” “Cumberground?” She went to strike him again, but his metal arm gripped her wrist. “You serve no purpose, you merely exist to take up space. That is what you are.” She spat at the soldier.

“You’re no one to talk to me like that-” “someone should! I have done nothing to you. Yet you belittle me and glare when my presence is near.” His heart was racing, “why do you let me? Why don’t you kill me?” She pushed herself away from, “kill you? Kill you?! Do you hear yourself?! Are you mad? You must be absolutely insane! Why would I ever wish death upon anyone?” Was she serious? “Your history says otherwise-” “those heathens hurt children, women, other men. They suffered their endings because they were awful people. I’ve witnessed them in the midst of their horrid acts. I’ve seen the lives that were destroyed because of the scum I kill. You think I kill for sport? I live with each and every memory, the agonizing screams as they try to ask for forgiveness. It aches my heart sometimes, but they were merely trying not to pay for the injustices they made on the feeble.”

There was only the sound of her sobs for a moment. He quietly asked, “so why do it? If it pains you?” She looked at him, the blue in his eyes was like the ocean in late summer, their gaze was content on her. “I do it because I know the pain of being taken advantage of. I nearly lost my virtue out of forceful brute from someone who was supposed to care for me. The reassurance that someone else doesn’t have to feel the pain I did is why I continue.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “if I had died like I’d planned I would have never been able to save any of them. I cherish the fact that have been given a second chance. You may not, but I do. A fear lives in me, one that makes me believe this may all be taken away from me and I’ll have to live in the horrors of my past. So I carry on as best as I can. I am a kind soul at my core, but I will not live to please anymore.”

His mind was rushing with many thoughts, she could not read all of them. Perhaps she should have stayed in that bed, “when we were in the alternate past and I saw that Kennedy was alive. I realized that it meant I was dead, there was a comfort in that.” Here was the glimpse into the fragments of darkness that haunted him, “to find comfort in one’s own demise is a feeling I longed for. Your past does not define you. It should not guide who you are now, you do not have to be cold, the best thing would be to look forward.” 

The record was ending, “when the old man explained your past. I thought of my own pain. I’ve been seeing you like they saw me. It’s easier to see everyone as your enemy when you’ve been made to believe that for so long.” She listened, not sure what would come from it the next day. He was really just a scared boy, filled with paranoia and insecurity. When he began to sob, she made him sleep, presenting him a sweet dream. Something comforting from his past. 

Her room was in the same state she left in. Despite the softness of the linens and the cushion of the pillows, an unsettling feeling sat in the depths of her heart. How would the days work now? Would his glares and harshness continue? She decided on not erasing his memory of their conversation. Fatigue soon answered for her, and soon she was in her dream land as well.

Steve went to look for her in the morning, she wasn’t in her room or in the med bay. She was gone. He called Tony, “what do you mean she just disappeared?” The billionaire’s voice came from the cellphone, “I don’t know. I’m searching everywhere-” FRIDAY’s voice interrupted the conversation, “she’s in the basement kitchen.”  A sigh of relief erupted from Steve as he went to the elevator down to the basement.

As the elevator opened, he looked over at the kitchen area of the basement. She was sat next to Bucky, they appeared to be in a deep discussion. “Sorry to interrupt, I couldn’t find you in the med bay.” She smiled at the golden haired man, “I apologize for not advising you about my whereabouts. Could some breakfast make up for it?” He smiled at her, “sure.” Bucky just sat there for a while. He listened to his friend make the young witch laugh, somewhere in his heart he was a bit upset that she was happy in Steve’s presence. 

So much so that he didn’t hear her talking to him, “you alright Bucky?” Her voice was so soft, “yeah? Yes. Sorry what was the question?” She giggled, “Steve and I were wondering if you wanted to come grocery shopping with us?” There was this gleam of hope in her eyes. Her doe like eyes, the ones he’d seen before he fell asleep and dreamed about the first time his ma took him to Coney Island. He agreed to go with them though, he had to ask her more questions about how she did it. If she could bring back more of his memories, if she would help him find himself.

[datura-foxglove]

Curses and Deals (Dazatsu Halloween Day 2)

Rating : M

Trigger warning : implied animal abuse, blood and violence, implied cannibalism, throwing up, horror of supernatural kind (those are why the M rating for)

Prompt : Werecreature and witchcraft.

Summary : Dazai chased after the vile stench of dark magic that led him to a village terrorized by a weretiger. Each night, the weretiger would get out from it’s den in the forest and eat the villagers. In the forest, Atsushi cried as more and more blood stained his hands and resentment slowly eroded his sanity.

Warm. Sticky. Disgusting. Disgustingdisgustingdisgusting---

Another splatter. Stench of rotten meat and blood filled his lungs and he couldn’t breathe.

“Curse them. Curse those humans. Thirst for their blood. Hunger for their flesh.”

A yowl of pain, not from himself but from the cats trapped in the cages all around him. All of them stared at him, at the abomination he would become soon. Their scared eyes as they watch the skins of their kind covered his whole body. Blood staining the once pure white fur crimson, and dark charcoal ink painted strips on the fur like a child’s attempt to draw a tiger.

“Take all my hatred and turn them into fangs. Take all my resentment and turn them into claws.”

Stop it. Stop it. Stopstopstop---

“I pay for my sins with my own blood and soul. In return, turn this wrath into a beast that will devour those that had wronged me.”

He wanted to cry out. He was changing. His humanity stripped away to become the vessel for this person’s revenge.

“Kill every last one of them.”

Atsushi screamed, but all that was released from his mouth was a deafening roar of rage that should not be his to feel.

.

The moment he stepped into this village, he could already taste the misery in the air. His nose could pick up the faint whiff of blood, tears, and death loomed over the village with it’s scythe raised. Malice marked the village, warning those gifted with magic to stay away from this soon to be doomed village. He ignored those warnings and walked further into the heart of the village. The vile magic in the air soon turned it’s animosity to him, clinging to his coat like a sticky and hot tar. With ease, he brushed them all away like how one brushed dusts from their clothes.

The curses stopped bothering him at that point, realizing how superior his core was.

He visited the only tavern in the village, filled to the last chair of mourning men and women in grief. Most of them had defeated looks on their faces, like they were just waiting for death to take them away.

How enviable, he thought, that they had the certainty that death would bring come.

He slipped into a chair recently vacated with ease and familiarity despite his first time visiting this village. Decadence was the same everywhere after all. So did the bitter taste of alcohol that did little to numb the void within them all. An escape that was barely enough to keep them afloat in this ever chaotic sea called life.

He didn’t have to wait long until one of the guests broke down. Well, also thanks to the incense he had secretly burnt the moment he stepped inside this tavern. Nothing harmful, just enough to inebriate someone already under influences of substances like alcohol so that their loose tongue would spill everything in their heart.

“I can’t take this anymore!” one man slammed his empty mug to the bar. “If that—that monster wants me, then I won’t go down like a livestock!”

A woman near him scoffed, her flushed and despairing face looked beautiful to him. “You will only end up like my moron of a husband.” Aww, she was already married. What a shame. Then again, had that ever stopped him? “Killed and eaten like pigs. I don’t even have enough of his remains to bury.”

The bitterness in the woman’s voice sobered the first man, though his protest died down when he saw tears spilling from her eyes as she sobbed. “That monster had killed my husband, my father, and my niece. My mother has spilled her brain on the floor and can only wail like terrified toddler! My son is only five, how could he help with our field?”

“Either the monster killed us all first, or the starvation from failed harvest will.” An older man on the bar muttered. “In just five months, that monster had killed a third of our village.”

“The last traveler who promised us help had never returned.” Another woman commented glumly. Her eyes had this glazed sheen that he was familiar with. A gaze of someone that had seen too much death. “But at least we don’t have to scoop their remains like how we had to whenever someone from our village tried to escape.”

“Why…” the first man dropped back down to his seat, his face bowed and hands clasped in prayer that wouldn’t be answered. “Why this tragedy had to befall our village?”

“I wonder…” the sobbing woman let out a deranged giggle. “How many people will die tonight?”

He slipped away silently and unseen. A silver coin tossed into the mug he had used. With a swish of his hand, the incense died. Getting out didn’t really gave him fresh air, but the smell of smoke and alcohol were something he had known for years. Not much new information, but at least he didn’t have to wait long for night to come. He had better prepare first then.

There were few that Dazai hated more than surprise and being ill prepared after all.

.

His whole body jerked due to the force of his vomit. It hurt. It burnt his throat so bad everytime he threw up, but he had to force it out from his body. The taste of bile and blood was the only thing he could taste for a while, but it’s better to remember the bitter taste than to remember that warm and soft flesh—

He threw up again, even when there was nothing in his gut already.

A soft, concerned meowing distracted him from all the pain. Three cats, all with identical pure white furs, stared at him. When they saw that they had his attention, they snuggled up to him, staying clear from the mess he had created. They pawed relentlessly at his tattered clothing, licking his dirt and blood stained hands. Right, he had to feed them. There were only a few more hours until sunset and he had to catch a fish or two for them. Atsushi stood up, ignoring the pain in his joints and stomach. If there was something he was good at, it was at enduring pain.

The cats followed him, meowing demandingly at him to hurry up. Atsushi smiled weakly at them, grateful for their company despite what they had to go through. From forty-nine white cats that person caught, only these three were spared. Atsushi had to bury all the other cats, sobbing and begging for their forgiveness despite not being the one who murdered them all.

‘Ah…’ Atsushi wondered as he dunked his whole body to the river in feeble attempt to wash all the blood off. The hiss of anger as the cats dodged the incoming splash reminded him that he had to catch some fish for them. ‘When will this end…?’

Which one would end first? His sanity or the life of everyone in that village?

.

Dazai was awakened from his meditation when he heard a small commotion on the outskirts of the village. When he had finally reached the bloody scene, he wasn’t interested in the remains of the monster’s latest victim. He looked around, focusing on the hot rage his senses picked up. He smiled to himself when he found what he was looking for; a tuft of white stripped fur.

“Found you.” Dazai picked it up, the residue of curses stung his fingers a bit before his own magic smothered it to submission. He walked away from the scene, the talisman he wore around his neck had compelled normal humans to ‘look away’, ‘forget everything you see’, and ‘nothing of interest here’. He focused more magic in the fur and with a short, simple spell of ‘seek’, the air around the fur distorted within a grey glob of pure magic that turned darker and darker until it’s shape change into a raven. It’s empty gaze looked at Dazai for a moment before the raven took flight, to where Dazai’s target hid within the forest.

Even when the raven was out of his sight, there was a tether that bound it to Dazai. So Dazai followed at a relaxed pace, while at the same time the gear in his brain created many plans to capture the monster. Discarding and adding a new one every a few seconds. It’s akin to a game to him, like a hide-and-seek. The only difference was, if he lost, he would die.

Nothing different than the usual stake.

It took him a few hours of walking in the forest with the raven guiding his path until he found something. There was a hole underneath a big tree, big enough for a beast to crawl into. He couldn’t really see inside, but the malice in the air was concentrated here. The presence of death was so strong that the environment around the den were withering in spirit. It’s like an isolated space within the forest, repulsed by the flow of life of the forest itself.

There were four breaths of life inside that burrow, but three of them were too small to be anything but small animals. The only human inside that burrow’s breath was shallow and weak. It’s hard for Dazai to sense his life at all. Probably dying, or the burden of the curse had slowly extinguished his own life. The magic within them was different than the vile magic he had sensed since yesterday, so they must be only a bearer of the curse instead of the invoker. It would be troubling if the curse bearer died now, since they were the reason why he was here after all.

“Time to wake up the sleeping beauty.” Dazai’s hand rummaged through the bag he carried, taking out a silver flute. In practiced ease, the witch played a long and simple tune. Through each tune, he breathed magic to the instrument. For a conscious person, it sounded beautiful. For unconscious creatures though… it’s nothing more than rude awakening. It’s akin to having your blanket ripped away from you and facing the chill in the air.

A weak yelp, accompanied by three angry yowls of cats resounded from the burrow. Three white cats carefully stepped outside, hissing at Dazai with judging glares in their eyes. Dazai threw a dried meat nearby where the cats could see it and the tempting smell of meat distracted their attentions. Dazai waited as the cats fought over the scrap of meat, his eyes watching the entrance of the burrow where he could feel the slowly awakening curse bearer.

A young man, barely out of his teenage years, crawled out of the den. His clothes were tattered and dirty, but what attracted Dazai’s eyes the most were the thin wire like ropes digging painfully on his neck and limbs. Dazai was familiar enough with binding that he recognized the material immediately by how it clung to the flesh like bear trap. Women’s hairs, woven into ropes while chanting a spell under the moonlight. Effective for those that hadn’t reach their adulthood yet, like a mother’s suffocating and binding’s love. Although, seeing the frayed ends of the rope, even a mother’s devotion couldn’t protect their child from ferocious beast.

“Good morning!” the sun glared harshly at them as if reminding him that it’s far from morning. “Had a nice sleep?”

The curse bearer, a boy from the lack of curves on his body, jerked like Dazai had whipped him. His eyes widened in terror and he tried to scramble back inside. Dazai tapped his shoe to the soil under him and the burrow suddenly collapsed. The boy shrieked in fear and scooted away from the collapsed den. The cats ran away from the commotion, leaving the two of them alone.

“It’s not my intention to hurt you, but if you won’t stay still I have to tie you up.” Dazai pointed at the ropes around the boy’s neck. “I think you won’t like it.”

The boy shrunk, his body trembling like leaves in the mercy of the blowing wind. His wide eyes watched Dazai’s every move, searching for opening so he could bolt like lightning. Dazai watched him in return, his eyes didn’t only see the physical, but also the resentment clinging to the boy like a slime. It’s truly ugly, seeing the depth of what human could become.

“So, boy.” Dazai knelt in front of the young man, ignoring the way the boy flinch and effort to lean back as far as possible. “Do you want me to save you?”

The fear in the curse bearer’s eyes sparked into apprehension. “Save…?”

“The witch who cursed you died, right?” a deadly hex like this could only be paid by the witch’s soul. “Without them, you have to ask for another witch to release you from that curse.”

The boy sniffed the air, his apprehension turned into suspicion. “You are a witch.”

“Correct,” Dazai hummed, cataloguing the young man’s sensitivity to magic in his mind. “It’s in my capability to save you. You will find it very hard to search for a witch that can and want to deal with this kind of curse.”

“What’s in it for you…?” the young man’s voice was bitter. “Witches never strike a deal without something they want.”

“You, obviously.” Dazai pointed at the curse bearer. “Having a willing weretiger as a source of my ingredients is enough.”

“Ingredients?” the young man squeaked out fearfully.

“Nothing that won’t grow back or replenish by itself.” Dazai counted with his fingers. “Nails, hairs, blood, and maybe a bit of skin. As a payment for your life, it’s cheap.”

The young man looked conflicted. Dazai waited patiently, seeing him clutching at his tattered clothing and blood stained hands until he finally asked. “You said… a willing weretiger. Is it impossible for me to turn back to normal human? Or you won’t because you need me to stay as weretiger?”

“A bit of both.” Dazai grinned despite the young boy’s glare. “Turning you back to normal human will have a much heavier price than what you can pay now, and I do need ingredients from you to make my potions. Maybe in the future when you are able to pay me that price, I will turn you back.”

For a sacrifice of life to turn a human into a monster must be countered by another sacrifice of life. While Dazai sought for death, dying to a curse wasn’t something he looked forward to. It would erode his immortal soul to dust, not to mention really painful as his soul was ripped away from his body. That’s why Dazai wondered what kind of wrath the witch who had cursed this boy had, to surrender their soul from the circle of reincarnation and enduring the soul crushing pain as his soul was torn to shreds?

“Then… what are you saving me from, exactly?” the young man muttered, his eyes downward to the ground. “I am still a monster.”

“You may still be a weretiger, but your mind will be your own.” Dazai watched as the boy’s hands twitched. “I can release you from the path of carnage. Unless you like it?”

“How can I like it!?” the young man shouted in indignation. “I—I never wished for this! When that witch said that he would accept me as part of his family, I never had thought that being that man’s tool of revenge will be the price I had to pay!”

“Ah, so that’s why you are so cautious.” Dazai chuckled. “I am not an honorable man, so it’s wise for you to be cautious of me. But I’m fair when I strike a deal. You give me what I want and I give you what you want. You became my source of ingredients and I free you from all that hatred.”

The young man hesitated. Dazai looked up towards the sky and warned. “It’s going to be sunset soon.”

He bit his lips, wariness warring with his own fraying sanity and despair. “O-only what I willingly give. You can ask, but I can choose how I give it to you.” So Dazai couldn’t just tear his nails or bleed him dry.

“Fair enough. With a source as potent as you, I won’t need that much.” Dazai offered his hand. “Do we have a deal? What is your name, boy?”

Taking his hand in a handshake, Atsushi nodded. “Nakajima Atsushi.”

“My name is Dazai Osamu.” Dazai wove his magic into both of their cores, binding their deal as official. “Looking forward to business with you.”

.

Atsushi watched as Dazai spilled bottles and bottles of potion into the earth around Atsushi. A few weird shaped talismans tossed around with so little care that Atsushi wondered if he had made the right choice of asking this weird witch for help. With each passing seconds, the more restless Atsushi became. Would they make it in time before the sunset? Would Atsushi have to kill again?

“Atsushi-kun.” A tap on his shoulder jerked him out of his fear. “Drink this.”

Atsushi stared at the suspicious vial of amber liquid with as much judging as he could. “What is that?”

“You told me that the witch sacrificed forty-six cats and their fur got absorbed into your body. Well, those poor felines’ animosity is what is slowly killing you. But since the vessel of their animosity, their furs, got absorbed into your body we have to get it out the painful way.” Dazai cringed. “Throw it all up. Thankfully, it will be easier on your body since you are not the object of their hatred.”

Atsushi blinked and took the potion. “I have been throwing up daily. It should be easy.”

“Throwing up human flesh and throwing up resentment is different, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai tutted. “But I need you to get all that resentment out, so I can use it.”

“For what?”

“Why, I need my cat army to battle that witch’s resentment.” Dazai stepped away and started burning some incenses. “Kinder witches would try to solve things peacefully. For me, it’s just easier to have a cat fight and be done with it.”

Atsushi really, really started to doubt his decision. But he had no other choice, so he drank up the potion in one go. It tasted a bit sweet, which Atsushi was grateful. He let the scent of incenses filled up his lungs, waiting until the potion worked.

Then, Atsushi started hearing hisses. He looked around, trying to find the three cats he had lived with, but they were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, his skin started burning. Atsushi gasped in pain, feeling like something was tearing him from the inside out. He cried out, claws digging to the ground as tried to find any purchase to alleviate the pain. There was something bitter digging into his gut, the sounds of cats yowling and hissing echoed within his head just like that night where he watched them all slaughtered. Again, he felt the burning hatred that wasn’t his. The stench of fear and pain as he experienced the same dread the cats felt that night. How a sharp blade of ice ended his life and rough hands tore his skin.

Unforgivable. Unforgivable. So much pain. So much hatred. So much fear.

Atsushi instinctively put his hand in front of his mouth, but it’s futile as dark tar like liquid spewed out from between of his fingers. Instead of the burning he usually felt on his throat, now all that he felt was pain as the resentment crawled with all of it’s claws and fangs out of him. The more black liquids he threw up, the more he could feel the warm and sticky blood that stuck to the white fur slowly receded. When the fur that had covered him from head to toe became as pure as the snow itself, with only the black stripes remaining, Atsushi had collapsed to the ground. His face was pale and his whole body shuddered in cold sweat. The fur slowly being absorbed back into his body, now free of the cats’ resentment.

“Good work, Atsushi-kun.” Atsushi weakly focused his eyes on Dazai, who stood in front of him with a branch of a plant he had never seen before. Dazai waved the branch on the black liquids all around Atsushi and blue lights sparkled from the branch like pollen raining on the liquid. It bubbled and gathered, shaping itself like a living being into a jet black tiger with red eyes and blue silhouette.

“Just in time too.” Dazai’s voice roused Atsushi from his musing. “It’s sunset.”

Just the word ‘sunset’ invoked so much fear in Atsushi that he pushed his body to sit up. He was about to beg Dazai to run away when he felt it. A cold breath on his ear as two stick like hands grabbed his face and neck. A screeching sounds of unending muttering of nothing but ‘kill, so sad, hate, so painful, revenge, revenge, revenge’ whispered into his mind. He felt chill all over his body and a crushing weight on his shoulders. The face of that witch, contorted with rage, eyes completely black glaring at him, and skin so pale it’s almost white, hovered above him. His mind was torn apart, leaving his body weak and pliant as rage and hatred drowned him. He was going to transform. He was going to kill someone else again.

A great roar froze even the time itself. A sweet scent of silvervine filled his nose and then something pounced him, but it passed through him harmlessly. The coldness and resentment went away, leaving Atsushi with the control of his body again. However, a sudden jerk on his neck made him fall over backward. Atsushi had to twist his neck painfully to see what was happening behind him. His eyes widened as he saw the blackened ghost of the witch that had cursed him being dragged away by the tiger who had a firm bite on it’s neck. But the curse stubbornly clung to him by the ropes on his neck, refusing to let go.

“Revenge… revenge for those who had wronged me…!” the curse shrieked in rage. “Those villagers… they killed my family just because we are witches! I will kill them all, burn this village to ash and dust along with my soul!”

“So that’s why.” Dazai kneeled beside Atsushi, a silver knife on hand. “Stay still Atsushi-kun. I have to cut away those ropes.”

“You…child… I had taken care of you for years, this is the price you have to pay! Your soul is already tainted with the blood of so many people, you won’t be saved even if you get rid of the curse!” it threatened. “For the rest of your life, you will be burdened with that sin! You will never be free from it!”

“I… already know!” Atsushi gasped out, glaring at the curse head on. “Even so, I want to live! I will carry that burden with me forever, but I will live! I won’t go down with you!”

That was the reason why he had never taken his own life, no matter how bloody his hands became. For the hope that there would be something that was worth all of this pain. To pay for this sins someday in the future. To proof that he was more than just a monster.

With a slash from his knife, Dazai cut through the ropes clinging to his neck. Since he had to be quick, he couldn’t avoid cutting Atsushi’s neck too, but the wound was superficial and would heal quickly. The ropes dissolved into dust, along with the ones on his wrists and ankles. Atsushi gasped, clinging to Dazai’s robe as he tried to gain his breath. However, his eyes couldn’t tear away from the scene in front of him. The tiger clamped it’s strong jaw on the curse’s neck, breaking it with ease. The curse wailed and shrieked in vain as the tiger devoured it alive. By the end of it all, the tiger looked at Atsushi for a moment before roaring to the moon. It’s form dissolving into forty-six white cats whose ghostly bodies sparkled like stars. Dazai raised his fist and blew a life into it. A winged mouse that smelled faintly of sweet silvervine squeaked cutely before taking flight. The cats followed the winged mouse, flying off into the night sky until they disappeared from Atsushi’s sight.

A soft meow attracted Atsushi’s attention and he looked down to see the three white cats looking up at him sadly. He let go of Dazai’s robes to pet each one of them, feeling them purring and snuggling close to him.

“It’s over.” Atsushi sobbed, his bottled up emotions finally cracked down and spilled. “It’s finally over.”

Atsushi cried, holding on for dear life to the three cats that had keep him company all along. A warm hand petted his head awkwardly, and Atsushi clung to the small act of kindness.

.

Dazai hummed as he waited, already finished with his preparation. A white cat rested snugly on his lap, demanding petting and small bits of dried meat he gave to it. The sound of disturbed bushes stopped his humming, his eyes finding Atsushi who walked out of the bushes wearing nice clothing that were too large on his thin frame. The other two cats followed closely around Atsushi’s feet, trying to trip the poor boy as they rubbed themselves all over his legs.

“Um, Dazai-san.” Atsushi blushed cutely as he fiddled with the too long sleeves and robes that dragged behind him. “This… looks weird on me, isn’t it?”

“You look cute, Atsushi-kun. But yes, maybe we should get you some clothes soon.” Dazai stood up, ignoring the offended meow the cat on his lap gave him. “Now let’s go, it will take some time before we reach my house.”

“While I’m grateful that you let me stay at your house…” Atsushi stared at him in confusion. “Why? It’s not like you always need me nearby for your ingredients.” with the magic Dazai bound to their core, Dazai could always find Atsushi easily. Not like Atsushi had anywhere else to go.

“Well…” Dazai smiled, more brittle than his usual mischievous smirk. “You reminded me of my friend. He would be so disappointed at me if I left a stray orphan by himself in a forest.” Truly, disappointment from Odasaku hurt more than his anger or even his magic bow.

“That person sound way more decent than you, Dazai-san. Can I stay with him instead?” Atsushi returned the smile, though a spark of mischief in his eyes told Dazai he was just teasing.

“That hurt me so deeply, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai pouted. “Besides, he already takes care of five orphans. Pity him, Atsushi-kun.”

“Well, living with you shouldn’t be so bad. I survived much worse.”

“Atsushi-kun, your tongue sure is sharp.” Dazai chuckled, walking ahead of Atsushi. “The next thing we know, your tongue will be barbed like these cats.”

“Very funny, Dazai-san.” Atsushi followed close beside him, folding up the sleeves so it wouldn’t hang down his hands. “Still, please take care of me.”

“Please take care of me too.” Dazai affirmed with a gentle smile.

[serkthbhihanikemle-blog]

Sex and Age - Secrets of Sexual Health and Happiness

These days individuals lead a functioning lifestyle even at the older age, they travel and keep on doing what used to bring them pleasure at a more youthful age, including sex. Love vanquishes all ages and close connection is a legitimate continuation to sentimental infatuation.

Men and women similarly need to keep having full worth relationships at any age. Healthy sexual life well influences all parts of life including physical shape and confidence. Despite the fact that TV and movies tirelessly convince us that sex is something just teenagers and youths engage in, to say the least, it doesn't speak to the truth. The requirement for sex doesn't disappear with age. It is difficult to grow out of the requirement for adoration, enthusiastic closeness and closeness. Most of individuals have sexual dreams even at 80 and 90 years old.

For sure, sex when you are 80 differs from sex when you are 20, however it doesn't imply that sexual life at a more established age can't bring fulfillment and pleasure. Understanding the progressions that happen in your body or in your partner's body with age will assist you with getting ready for some conceivable sexual issues.

To start with, there are the natural age changes. As we as a whole know, our creature ages and our body wears out, and these natural age changes may impact our sexual life. Also, albeit regularly we are talking about physical changes, we ought not dismiss the mental changes too.

How about we talk about the physical changes first. Testosterone controls the sexual fascination in the two men and women. The assemblages of most maturing men and women produce the vital measure of testosterone to continue their enthusiasm for sex. Also, in spite of the fact that with age a portion of the parts of sex that we have become used to become difficult, these progressions are an extraordinary improvement to evaluate new positions and techniques.

The physical changes in a lady's body that occur with age are predominantly identified with menopause and the bringing down of the hormone estrogen's level. With age the creation of the vaginal ointment when sexually aroused takes additional time. The vagina loses its strength and flexibility. The entirety of this makes the sexual intercourse less wonderful or even excruciating. Moreover, women may feel a consuming sensation during sex or create seeping after the sexual intercourse is over. To invigorate the natural creation of the vaginal grease, it is important to engage in the foreplay. Another answer for this issue is utilizing a water based ointment (for instance K-Y jam), utilizing a cream containing estrogen or experiencing an estrogen-supplanting therapy. Standard sex keeps up the ordinary creation of the vaginal grease and the versatility of the vagina. Long forbearance can cause the vagina to lose its flexibility therefore it will require some investment to extend it for the penis. You ought to examine this issue with your partner and request that he move gradually so as to decrease your excruciating sensations.

Presently how about we proceed onward to mental changes. Keeping up the capacity to engage in sexual exercises at an old age depends on your body as well as on your cognizance. If you are embarrassed about your sexual needs, uneasiness and stress can adversely influence the capacity to encounter sexual excitement. The age related changes in your appearance may impact your enthusiastic transparency and capacity to go into a personal connection. The more wrinkles and silver hairs you notice, the lower your confidence becomes. You feel ugly. The negative mental self view stifles the sexual drive since you feel contemptible of sexual consideration from your partner and don't confide in him/her.

Stress and nervousness because of sexual conduct and possible disappointments in bed may incite sexual shortcoming (feebleness) in men and coldness in women. Try not to surge things and you might have the option to maintain a strategic distance from the passionate weight.

Talk about this irritated point with your partner; enlighten them concerning your feelings and stresses. Their help will assist you with recapturing trust in yourself.

So how would you be able to improve your sexual life with age? A ton of old individuals consider their cozy life more full than the one they used to have when they were more youthful. They are persuaded that with age sex just becomes better comparatively to great wine. So as to improve your sexual life you have to talk about any issues or dreams you may have all the more frequently and acquaint changes with your sexual collection.

You ought to extend your view on sex. Sex isn't only various physical activities so as to accomplish pleasure. Sex doesn't boil down to sexual intercourse. With age numerous individuals begin to welcome the correspondence when sex, which makes the closeness itself way more splendid. Petting and contacting may become an incredible option in contrast to sexual intercourse, even the least complex grasp may cause an orgasm. Think about sensual massage, masturbation or oral sex.

Discuss more with your partner. Nothing draws you as close as correspondence. Talk about the progressions that you are proceeding with your partner so as to see how you can dispose of any inconveniences and make sex far and away superior. Maybe, the arrangement will be another position or another sort of sexual correspondence, for instance massage. Get some information about his/her needs and dreams and consider how you can fulfill them. The conversation of sex itself is very stirring and can become an astounding foreplay.

Acquaint changes with your sexual daily practice. Straightforward changes can improve your private life. Move sex to when you feel the most flood of vitality. Have a go at engaging in sexual relations in the morning when you are brimming with quality following a decent night rest as opposed to delaying it until the day's end when you are depleted and depleted. Since you will require more opportunity to get aroused, put in a safe spot more opportunity for planning of the sentimental environment, for instance a sentimental supper, a gathering for simply you two or moving. Evaluate the new sex positions, don't simply adhere to the" evangelist" one. Search for the position that will be agreeable both for you and your partner.

Control your desires. If you didn't engage in sexual relations regularly when you were youthful don't hope to become a sex machine at a more seasoned age. Maybe, when you were youthful the statement of closeness for you was something different, for example, an intriguing talk and correspondence. If that is the situation, at that point a similar request of things will stay as you get more seasoned. Couples that used to love to engage in sexual relations when they were more youthful are probably not going to quit enjoying having intercourse as they get more established.

Deal with yourself. Healthy eating and ordinary physical exercise will help keep up you fit as a fiddle. This thus will help keep up your availability for sex at any age. Keep to a decent eating routine wealthy in foods grown from the ground. Exercise at any rate for 30 minutes per day each day of the week. Drink less liquor, it brings down both male and female sexual intensity. Medications, for instance weed and cocaine, additionally contrarily influence your sexual capacity.

If you don't have a sexual partner, this doesn't imply that you should abandon sex altogether. The greater part of older individuals over 65 years old in the US are single. It is as yet conceivable to discover new love at this age or basically set out on a sentimental experience which will prompt bed. Women live longer than men therefore there are progressively single women and finding a partner at an older age isn't unreasonably simple. Attempt to go to spots and occasions where you can meet individuals of your age. It is never past the point where it is possible to begin a relationship.

At the point when you do begin new sexual relationships remember about safe sex. A great deal of more seasoned individuals disregard it because they are certain that they are not at risk for getting tainted with a STD including AIDS. Despite this conclusion, AIDS isn't the malady of the youngsters. Among the individuals who experience the ill effects of AIDS in the US over 10% of individuals are over 50. Each individual taking part in sexual exercises, paying little mind to their age, can get contaminated with a STD. Either don't change your partner or practice safe sex with a condom. Examine the chance of AIDS tests with your partner. More established individuals once in a while experience such assessments.

Lastly talk to you specialist. Regularly older individuals feel embarrassed to examine sex with their primary care physician. However, such correspondence can assist you with bettering comprehend the age changes of your body and psyche just as their impact of your sexual action.

[thechroniclesofhriddick]

Svan awoke to the smell of fire and brimstone and chaos.

The trees and houses the clan lived in were on fire, his people screaming in panic as they evacuated. He remembers what feels like a life time ago of Xynal explaining his vision to them about the End of Days and he wonders if this is what the elezen saw.

No matter. With his left arm thrown on, he and A’kiva and several others began barking orders and rounding up everyone. It is clear they were no longer safe here.

The first people Svan ordered to safety were the kits. There weren’t any of his people who were too old or feeble to not aid yet. That said, he bade their mothers to stay with them to keep them calm and from scattering as once everyone was accounted for they were heading to Diajik’s tribe. His mother’s mate was who stayed with the women and miqo’te as Cedrik and the Warders guarded them from any other threats.

Within half a bell. almost everyone was gathered as the blazes rose. And then Svan saw something that made his heart stop.

The last few unaccounted for, aside for himself and his mother and his lead warder, were A’kiva, Svenja and a viera kit. The three viera adults ran through the mounting blaze to find them and Svan’s green eyes landed on them first:

A’kiva was curled against Svenja and the kit as his ears were pinned back and tail curled in stark fear as he stared down the largest voidsent Svangeir had ever seen. And Svan only knew it was a voidsent from the aura the thing produced. It opened its maw, several times large enough to swallow all three of them whole.

He barely heard Cedrik come up to tell them to leave as the flames began to lick at them. No, Svan was so dazed he didn’t realize he had ran to get between the three with his gunblade drawn as he drew the hells spawn back. What drew him back to the present was A’kiva’s voice calling his name.

The creature infront of him was not dead. Injured and enraged but still alive. A’kiva though, now that he was closer and got to look at him, was injured. Heavily. There was a large stain of blood on his mate’s shirt stemming from his abdomen.

His mother, his warder, and Cedrik had come to join them, aiding the younger three to stand. Though both Njala and Cedrick as well as A’kiva had their eyes elsewhere. At first Svan though it was on the voidsent, but no. He like A’kiva was also injured. He didn’t feel it through the adrenaline.

The shadow creature rushed at them and Svan blocked its flailing limbs from spearing them before pulling the trigger on the blade for an explosive Hypervelocity to force it back as it screeched in pain. Its bellow called several smaller voidsent into existance and Svan took the oppertunity to gather A’kiva in his arms and ran back to the rest of his clan.

They all marched to Dia’s wards. He and A’kiva were the worst in terms of injuries. The rest had minor burns or some problems with breathing from the smoke. They moved as quickly as they could, keeping to the dense forest and making sure all was close.

Dreos was the first to spot them at the edge and by the time they were in the tribe proper, Taxir, Durriken and several other healers were there to greet and treat them. Along with Ruvhari’a to find out information of what happened.

Quietly, as Svenja stayed by his side whilst he was bandaged and healed, Svan told Taxir and Vhari of the attack and what exactly attacked them. From what he and the others could see they weren’t followed. But he told them to warn Diajik and Inxli and F’yire as well as for a possible upcoming attack.

Ruvhari’a nodded and went off to linkpearl F’yire and Flopsy so they could be prepared and then tell Diajik of the Hrid clan’s plight.

He also decided to pearl one of the Twin Adders so they and Gridania could also be alerted. What the hells is going on?

[kayanne369]

17th of Last Seed

Given the events of the past few hours, I have decided to keep a journal for the foreseeable future. Partly, I do this for myself, so that I may keep track of the days and the events that are seemingly unfolding all around me. However, if I am, to be honest with myself, this is primarily to offer something in the way of a first-hand account of what happened in Helgen. I am one of two survivors for all I know. Two people. Two out of hundreds. Most of them soldiers. Well-equipped imperial soldiers. Mowed down like blades of grass. Their armour practically melted to their skin. These men were trained. Not for dragon attacks. No. Who could possibly have that level of foresight? But they were trained. And they died. Every single one of them died. Damn it. I took out a few myself. They were soldiers and they died. What hope do a bunch of farmers and tradesmen have?

I’m rambling. I’m sorry. This is supposed to be an account, not a canvas for me to express my feelings. No. I have other methods for that. I’m writing this from a small house in a place named Riverwood. It’s a small village a few miles north of Helgan. At least I think it is. In truth, my memories of the day are hazy and, in this respect, this may not be the detailed account of a dragon attack that I’d hoped it was. My brain seems to be opting to remove the unpleasant memories from my head so I will be quick and as thorough as I can.

I got caught in an ambush near the border of Skyrim. I doubt I was in this land more than a few hours and I was in chains. I’d be angrier if I wasn’t so tickled by my own bad luck. I was put in the back of a trailer. I must have been knocked unconscious in the skirmish because the next thing I remember was waking up, my head pounding and limbs sore. There were three men around me, our hands all equally bound. One, Ralof, was talking to me. His voice was harsh but sympathetic. He uttered words of encouragement but I was barely listening to them. I was more focused on the man at his side. His eyes were wide with terror and he looked just as confused as to what was going on as I was. It took me a few moments to notice the third man, as I was, in fact, laying my head on his shoulder. I later found out that his name was Ulfric. Apparently, he was the one the soldiers were after. I’m not all that clear on the details but he must have done something to warrant hostility so strong they’d execute anyone standing near him. In honesty, I don’t even know if he’s alive. He was the last time I saw him, but anything could have happened between then and now. Oh, well. I don’t really care to be honest. I’m only mentioning it because I feel he may be somewhat important in whatever nonsense this cursed land has gotten itself mixed up in.

Gods. I don’t know. I just don’t know. Everything is so hazy. My head hurts. My limbs ache. I can’t get the smell of burning flesh out of my nostrils. I don’t even know how long the attack was. I remember laying my head on the block, too terrified even to cry, and a shadow fell over me. Someone screamed the word, “dragon” and suddenly everything was thrown into chaos. I remember being thrown to the ground. Somehow I got back up. No idea how. But I did. I looked up and saw it. A gigantic black, winged creature. I think I must have stood and stared for a good few minutes. It was reptilian. I can be certain of that. It’s claws and facial structure was telling. It opened its mouth and a stream of fire came screaming from its throat. The soldiers in front of it practically turned to ash. I truly believe that had Ralof not pulled me out of my trance, I’d have ended up the same. But he did. He grabbed my hand, and he pulled so hard he almost dislocated my arm. He pulled me into a small stone structure where two other Nords were talking and I took a break for what much have been the first time in a minute. One Nord headed up the winding stairs but before he could take but a few steps, the wall to his right caved and in came a jet of white-hot flames. We hid below the stairs until the flames stopped and Ralof in an action I can only put down to absolute madness, pulled me up the remainder of the staircase and practically pushed me through the opening, through the roof of a neighbouring house and before I really knew what was happening, I was back on the streets.

I watched the dragon circle for a few seconds before a shout broke my stupor. A soldier was calling to me and instinctively I ran to him. I didn’t recognise it at the time, but thinking back, I believe he made some feeble attempt to shield me from the headman’s axe. Said something about returning my remains to Morrowind. Bloody good that would do. But non-the less, he did save me. Guided me through the streets and the carnage and the blood and the smoke and the heat, until I met with Ralof once more. The two shared a few cross words and then ran off in separate directions. I wonder if Ralof perhaps knew him. I think I overheard him call him Hadvar, but I wasn’t really listening. We escaped into what I can only assume was a keep stopped for a few seconds. My mind was racing. Honestly, at the time, I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was alive or if this was some twisted afterlife that had cursed onto me. The whole event seems so ethereal looking back. I supposed I could go into detail our escape, but the long and short of it is that we did. By some miracle of miracles, we escaped, and as the sun hung high in the sky, we stood in the shadow of a burning city and watched the creature responsible fly away into the distance.

I honestly can’t remember anything after that. The next thing I do remember is sitting in front of a fire, a warm shawl over my shoulders. Ralof and a Nord couple were sitting around a table chatting with each other. They stopped when they saw that I was looking at them and the women, who I later found was named Gerder gave me sincere smile. Looking around, I saw a young child sleeping soundly in a bunk in the far off corner of the room. She offered me a bowl of stew but I was in no mood to eat and ended up leaving the majority of it. Not something I generally like to do on principle, but I was too tired to care. Too wound up to rest. Too scared to eat. I still am in all honesty. Ralof and his family at this moment sleep soundly beside me. Their breathing the only sound breaking the silence. Yet, I can hear nothing but screaming. I close my eyes and I see the rebel with his head on the block.

“My ancestors are smiling on me.” Those were his last words. His last defiant words. Then nothing. Just a fountain of crimson springing forth as his head was rendered from his shoulders. I see screaming bodies engulfed in flames falling into burning puddles of metal and charred skin. I see the boy. His little face frozen in terror at what before him…Gods. Gods, please let these memories fade. I can’t cope with them. I simply can’t.

[mst3kproject]

Journey to the Seventh Planet (1962)

Oh, shit, it's another John Agar movie.  This one comes to us from Sid Pink and Ib Melchior of Reptilicus, co-stars Carl Ottosen (Colonel Grayson from the same movie), and is about a bunch of astronauts landing on an unknown world where they find lots of beautiful women.  Get Jonah and the Bots on this one, stat.

In the far-off future of 2001, after world peace has been achieved, the UN sends a spacecraft to explore the seventh planet, Uranus (they pronounce it yer-AWN-us, if you wanted to know).  Upon landing, something very strange happens to the astronauts on board – they all lose consciousness for a few hours while an ominous echoey voiceover informs them that it will possess their bodies and use them to conquer the Earth!  Whatever it was seems to have already read their thoughts, because instead of a frozen wasteland, they find themselves in the woods around a little village, all very cozy and Earthlike and inhabited solely by beautiful women plucked straight from each man’s personal fantasies.  Just what a hostile intelligence needs to lure a bunch of red-blooded astronauts to their doom!

Once again, I’m going to start by being a pedant.  The people who made this movie know nothing about Uranus.  I tried to do some research on what was known about the outer solar system in 1962 and it seems like it wasn’t very much, but the term gas giant has been around since at least 1952, when James Blish used it in his short story Solar Plexus.  Based on that, it seems like people in the early sixties probably knew these planets didn’t have solid surfaces, but unless I manage to find an astronomy book from that era it’s hard to be sure.  Suffice to say, Uranus does not have snow, or volcanoes, or anything remotely like that.  It’s methane and ammonia all the way down.

That shouldn’t ruin one’s enjoyment of the movie, though.  Like its sister Reptilicus, Journey to the Seventh Planet is cartoony and colourful and quite a lot of fun to watch.  The special effects are never good, whether they’re a view of Saturn from space or an amusing but also kind of scary one-eyed dinosaur-rat monster, but they tell us what’s going on.  There’s also a couple of really clever moments in it, having to do with the malevolent intelligence hiding beneath the planet’s surface, and the illusions it creates to try to draw them in.

When the astronauts start to explore the woodland around their landing site, they quickly discover that the plants and trees around them have no roots. John Agar’s character, Don, tries to pull one up, and immediately falls on his ass when the plant does not resist him as he expected.  This is a very nice metaphor for what almost everything they find on Uranus turns out to be: a pretty surface with no substance to it.

Then there are the women they meet there, each of whom is a match to the man she targets.  In the opening scene we met the characters and heard them talk a little about their current girlfriends and lost loves.  Commander Eric recalls Ingrid, a girl who took part in a local Christmas festival when he was a boy.  He describes her as looking like a queen or a goddess, and so the adult Ingrid we meet a few minutes later is not just beautiful but regal and articulate, and a little bit commanding.  Virginal Karl remembers Ursula, a childhood crush he never dared to approach.  When she turns up, she’s in what seems to be a little girl’s frock, and claims she wants nothing more than to care for him.  Fuckboy Don is the proud owner of an extensive collection of pin-ups, and they turn up in their scanty costumes to throw themselves at him.

It is also rather interesting how the men treat these women.  They know the women are not real, because they know nothing around them is real – in their spacesuits they can pass through the force field around the little wood and village and find the real Uranus, cold, icy, and airless, outside.  They know that something threatening is here, because they met the monsters it created to drive them out of its lair.  The women know what this entity is planning because it created them.  And yet, for all that, the men never seem to consider them a threat.  When they go to confront the evil intelligence at the end, they find that the women have sabotaged their equipment – Karl, who was supposed to be keeping watch, let his guard down around Ursula.

Why do the men so completely disregard the threat of these women? Possibly because they know they’re not real, and are assumed to be incapable of doing any harm (although they do not make this same assumption of the equally unreal rat-dinosaur and giant spider).  Possibly also because they are women, whom the men – being sixties men – assume are not as intelligent or resourceful.  In this sense, using images of women as its agents was the evil intelligence’s smartest move in more ways than one.  When it probed the astronauts' minds it must have seen not only their desire for females of their own species, but also their low opinion of them, and it used both against them.  Though why it spends so much time having sex with them by proxy instead of getting on with conquering their wills, I really can’t say.

Even at the very end, as the planet apparently collapses all around them, the characters don’t seem to realize that the women were a threat to them.  In a moment I do not begin to understand the logic of, Eric attempts to save Ingrid, who says she needed to see him one last time, and takes her aboard the ship, only for her to vanish a moment later when the evil alien dies.  Honestly, I think this was a pretty lucky escape.  The movie tries to present the moment as a romantic tragedy, but I’m pretty sure it was the alien’s last-ditch attempt to get a piece of itself on board the rocket.  Eric should have known better at that point, and trying to take her with him is almost the stupidest thing any of them do in the whole movie.

Of course, there are a lot more problems with this movie, too.  Earlier I said that most of the special effects were okay, and by and large they are – but when they eventually fail they fail very hard, and right at the climax, too.  The aforementioned dinosaur-rat monster is not among the better pieces of stop motion in history but it’s not awful.  Later, however, the men are confronted by a giant spider which is nothing but footage from Earth vs the Spider, tinted blue in a feeble and ultimately completely unsuccessful attempt to make it match the colour film of Journey to the Seventh Planet!  You don’t believe in it for a moment, and even worse, they suddenly switch to a shot that doesn’t match at all when the astronauts bring a cavern roof down on the monster.

In this image, you can see a very little bit of a completely different creature that is evidently some kind of Claymation thingy with eyes on stalks.  Apparently the sequence originally featured this beast instead of the spider, but the distributor didn’t like how it turned out and replaced it with the borrowed footage.  I have a hard time imagining how embarrassingly awful the other monster must have been to be rejected in favour of this, and it makes me very, very sad to learn that the original footage probably no longer exists.

The other big effects fail is the moment when the malevolent intelligence, which of course is a giant brain with an eye in it because what the hell else would it be, eats Karl.  We never see this happen, just the brain pulsing and the other astronauts shooting at it while Karl screams.  It’s very confusing and it’s only because the characters talk about it that we realize Karl’s actual fate.  I have not been able to find out if there were originally an effects shot here that was so bad they threw it out, or if they didn’t bother attempting one.  Either way, it really deflates the climax.

My biggest complaint about Journey to the Seventh Planet is not at the end, but at the beginning.  While the astronauts are unconscious on board their ship, the alien gloats in a voiceover about what it’s going to do to them. Then, as if this never happened, they land on the planet and start trying to figure out what’s going on, while the audience already knows.  Wouldn’t it have been far more effective to let the audience try to solve the mystery with the astronauts, rather than waiting for them to catch up?  Imagine if a Sherlock Holmes movie opened with a voiceover from Moriarty, explaining his evil plan – that would suck. Any supervillain knows that expository monologues happen at the end of movies.

Considering the fun they had with Reptilicus, I’m sure MST3K could do great things with Journey to the Seventh Planet.  I don’t really want to try to guess what they’d say about it, but there is an obvious Stinger moment when Karl enthusiastically offers to try to penetrate the force field and immediately regrets it.  I also want to think that Crow and Tom would have been personally offended by the way the actors pronounce Uranus. I can see a host sketch in which they get all angry about how it’s supposed to be your-anus and when Jonah asks them if they’re just saying that because they wanted to make crude jokes, they chorus “YES!” and insist that they were robbed.

[contentone3]

Fertility for Women - Vitamin B12 Supplement

Do you realize how to expand fertility in women normally? One straightforward way is by expanding the admission of nutritious food sources and vitamins, in short: carrying on with a sound life. Consider a lady's body a vehicle.

These treatments attempt to improve Fertility for Women through various viewpoints. Reflex therapy is kneading different pieces of the feet, which can ease the pressing factor brought about by feeble fertility and work on the actual soundness of women.

We as a whole realize that vehicles are filled with gas or oil. Attempt to fuel it up with milk or wine. Do you figure the vehicle will work? Exactly the same thing is valid with the human body.

Eat lousy nourishments and you are simply devouring some unacceptable fuel for your body and this will have some grave impacts and may bring down your odds of getting pregnant. Remember to take in some supportive vitamins close by following a sound eating regimen.

The treatment ways for women essentially incorporate reflex therapy, dietary treatment, needle treatment, and hypnotherapy. The treatment can extraordinarily assist women with expanding the pace of getting pregnant.

The dietary treatment is moderately all around created. Wholemeal food varieties contain plentiful minor components like zinc, which can fortify the fertility of all kinds of people. The fish can adjust the degree of chemicals.

As indicated by a clinical exploration, the galactose contained in dairy items and estriol contained in soybean items can influence the ordinary ovulation of women. Albeit the end needs more logical confirmation, it is important for women to lessen the admission of these food varieties respectably.

The needle treatment can build the blood sum in the uterus, which can work on the reconciliation of the ovum and sperm. Hypnotherapy can generally build the pace of getting pregnant. It resembles a profound back rub to lighten the high pressing factor for women. Most women who are endeavoring to become pregnant will in general investigate certain themes like "how to build fruitfulness in women normally" or comparative ones.

In spite of the fact that there are fake advances that you can take or strategies that you can do to expand your fertility, the normal ways are the ones being energetically suggested. Besides being protected and powerful, most normal means are not that costly contrasted with those non-regular techniques that certain individuals like to do.

You ought to basically attempt those regular techniques for expanding a lady's fruitfulness. Getting enough vitamins consistently is hard and that is the reason limited Vitamin B12 supplements are so well known. There is a not insignificant rundown of vitamins you need each day to remain solid. It is frequently extremely challenging to eat enough ordinarily to get that vitamin through diet alone. Enhancements can overcome any issues.

Looking for a discount vitamin, B 12 enhancement includes knowing your requirements and assessing the expenses and advantages of the different items. a vitamin is critical to your wellbeing since keeps the body sound, solid, and working accurately by performing explicit capacities. With an absence of vitamins, you can encounter indications and issues that can prompt medical problems.

Enhancements assist you with ensuring you are getting the entirety of the vitamin you need each day without causing you to need to down a lot of food to arrive at those everyday doses.

You can discover supplements for basically every vitamin you need. Vitamin B12 is one vitamin that might be inadequate. It is found in protein, so in case you are not getting sufficient protein in your day-by-day diet, you could be in danger for a Vitamin B12 lack. You might be a vegan, removing red meat for wellbeing reasons, or basically too occupied to even consider eating right. 

Vitamin B 12 assumes a significant part in the body. It assists with keeping up with sound nerve cells, red platelets and is utilized in making DNA. B 12 is found in food varieties that come from creatures and in certain food sources that have been sustained with the vitamin.

Food sources like meats, fish, eggs, and milk contain the most significant levels of vitamin B12. At the point when food sources containing this supplement are devoured the assimilation cycle assists with delivering the vitamin which is then caught up in the digestion tracts and utilized by the body.

vitamin B12 keeps up with solid nerve cells and red platelets. It likewise helps in making DNA. It is generally found in meat and fish. Some strengthened oats contain protein also. It is delivered from the protein cells during processing.

[all-feminism-is-bad]

Feminism: It's Just Another Name For Communism

One thing traditionalists often hear is that we know nothing about feminism. Another is that we have internalized misogyny.

People who research the history of the women’s movement from its very beginning to modern-day know that the movement has always been Communist, against family, and against women fulfilling their God-ordained role as wife and mother. The nineteenth and twentieth century feminists embraced the writings of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. Both Marx and Engels called for women to be forced out of the home.

“The overthrow of mother right was the world historical defeat of the female sex. The man took command in the home also; the woman was degraded and reduced to servitude; she became the slave of his lust and a mere instrument for the production of children.” -Friedrich Engels, “The Origin of the Family,” 1884

“Housewives are an endless array of ‘horse-leech’s’ daughters, crying, ‘Give! Give!’- a parasite mate devouring even when she should most feed and who has the aspirations of an affectionate guinea pig.” -Charlotte Perkins Gilman, “Women and Economics: A Study of the Economic Relations Between Men and Women as a Factor in Social Evolution,” 1898

“We must now say proudly and without any exaggeration that apart from Soviet Russia, there is not a country in the world where women enjoy full equality and where women are not placed in the humiliating position felt particularly in day-to-day family life. This is one of our first and most important tasks���. Housework is the most unproductive, the most barbarous, and the most arduous work a woman can do. It is exceptionally petty and does not include anything that would in any way promote the development of woman… The building of socialism will begin only when we have achieved the complete equality of women and when we undertake the new work together with women who have been emancipated from that petty stultifying, unproductive work…. We are setting up model institutions, dining-rooms and nurseries, that will emancipate women from housework…. These institutions that liberate women from their position as household slaves are springing up where it is in any way possible.” -V. I. Lenin, “The Task of the Working Women’s Movement in the Soviet Republic,” 1919

“The chief thing is to get women to take part in socially productive labor, to liberate them from their ‘domestic slavery,’ to free them from their stupefying and humiliating subjugation to the eternal drudgery of the kitchen and the nursery. This struggle will be a long one, and it demands a radical reconstruction, both of social technique and of morale. But it will end in the complete triumph of Communism.” -V. I. Lenin, “International Working Women’s Day Speech,” 1920

“The first class opposition that appears in history coincides with the development of the antagonism between man and woman in monogamous marriage, and the first class oppression coincides with that of the female sex by the male.” -Friedrich Engels, “The Origin of the Family”

“The first condition of the liberation of the wife is to bring the whole female sex back into public industry, and this in turn demands the abolition of the monogamous family as the economic unit of society.” -Friedrich Engels, “The Origin of the Family”

“Women are the creatures of an organized tyranny of men, as the workers are creatures of an organized tyranny of idlers.” -Eleanor Marx, “The Woman Question”

“A parasite sucking out the living strength of another organism… the housewife’s labor does not even tend toward the creation of anything durable…. Woman’s work within the home is not directly useful to society, produces nothing. The housewife is subordinate, secondary, parasitic. It is for their common welfare that the situation must be altered by prohibiting marriage as a ‘career’ for woman.” -Simone de Beauvoir, “The Second Sex”

“A world where men and women would be equal is easy to visualize, for that precisely is what the Soviet Revolution promised.” -Simone de Beauvoir, “The Second Sex”

“The Women’s Caucus endorses Marxist-Leninist thought.” -Robin Morgan, 1970

“Housewives are mindless and thing-hungry… not people. Housework is peculiarly suited to the capacities of feeble-minded girls. It arrests their development at an infantile level, short of personal identity with an inevitably weak core of self…. Housewives are in as much danger as the millions who walked to their own death in the concentration camps. The conditions which destroyed the human identity of so many prisoners were not the torture and brutality, but conditions similar to those which destroy the identity of the American housewife.” -Betty Friedan, “The Feminine Mystique”

“Housewives are dependent creatures who are still children… parasites.” -Gloria Steinem, 31 August 1970

“The husband’s work provides for greater challenges and opportunities for growth than are available to his wife, whose horizons are inevitably limited by her relegation to domestic duties. This programs her for mediocrity and dulls her brain…. Motherhood can only be a temporary detour.” -Nena O’Neill and George O’Neill, “Open Marriage: A New Lifestyle for Couples,” 1972

“Women owe Friedan an incalculable debt for “The Feminine Mystique….” Domesticity was not a satisfactory story of an intelligent woman’s life.” -Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, “Feminism Is Not the Story of My Life,” 1996

“As long as the woman is the primary caretaker of childhood, she is prevented from being a free human being.” -Kate Millet, “Sexual Politics,” 1969

“So long as society views sexual intercourse as tied, if only symbolically, to procreation and values this connection, it must in turn, view women as being different from men and likewise value this difference.” -F. Carolyn Graglia, “Domestic Tranquility: A Brief Against Feminism”

“The success of the sexual revolution has depended on divorcing sexual intercourse from all factual or symbolic attachment to procreation; this divorce has required that abortion be both legally available and socially acceptable.” -F. Carolyn Graglia, “Domestic Tranquility: A Brief Against Feminism”

“When the prevailing mores teach that sexual intercourse is merely a morally indifferent, mechanical act designed to produce a physical sensation with any number of individuals and without the prerequisites of love and commitment, the act- like inflated currency- loses value. Then, sexual intercourse becomes what one of Allan Bloom’s female college students described in “The Closing of the American Mind”: “it’s no big deal.” And when the sex act becomes degraded in value- when it ceases to be a big deal- society decreases the value it places both on a child as the product of conception in this degraded act and on a woman in her role as mother of the child. Casual sex leads, as it were, to casual motherhood.” -F. Carolyn Graglia, “Domestic Tranquility A Brief Against Feminism”

“A primary factor contributing to the feminization of poverty has been the change to a system of no-fault divorce under which divorce is easily obtained, even when opposed by one of the parties, and men often terminate marriages without providing adequate alimony or child support. The feminist quest for female fungibility with males has led the women’s movement to support the invalidation of laws benefiting and protecting women.” -F. Carolyn Graglia, “Domestic Tranquility: A Brief Against Feminism”

“As mentioned earlier, feminists nevertheless often try to disclaim responsibility for no-fault’s results. Liberationist of the 1970s blathered mindlessly about the oppressiveness of the family, exhorting women to break the chains of their confinement, to cease being parasites in their suburban havens, to cease holding husbands in marriages the men no longer wanted, and to set out on the road to true fulfillment and equality by finding some rewarding career. Yet, having been taken seriously by every state legislature in the country and with the divorce revolution accomplished, feminists seek to absolve themselves from blame, as if society should have known better than to listen to them. No longer concentrating on the oppressiveness of home and family for women, feminists argue instead that, unfortunately, married mothers must remain in the workforce to protect themselves from the very likely possibility of becoming single-parents impoverished by divorce. This is a likelihood, they choose not to remember, their movement was highly instrumental in creating.” -F. Carolyn Graglia, “Domestic Tranquility A Brief Against Feminism”

“As long as the family and the myth of the family and the myth of maternity and the maternal instinct are not destroyed, women will still be oppressed…. No woman should be authorized to stay at home and raise her children. Society should be totally different. Women should not have that choice, precisely because if there is such a choice, too many women will make that one. It is a way of forcing women in a certain direction.” -Simone de Beauvoir, 1975

“Feminism was profoundly opposed to traditional conceptions of how families should be organized, since the very existence of full-time homemakers was incompatible with the women’s movement…. If even 10 percent of American women remain full-time homemakers, this will reinforce traditional views of what women ought to do and encourage other women to become full-time homemakers at least while their children are very young…. If women disproportionately take time off from their careers to have children, or if they work less hard than men at their careers while their children are young, this will put them at a competitive disadvantage vis-a-vis men, particularly men whose wives do all the homemaking and child care…. This means that no matter how any individual feminist might feel about child care and housework, the movement as a whole had reasons to discourage full-time homemaking.” -Jane J. Mansbridge, “Why We Lost the ERA”

“Being a housewife is an illegitimate profession… The choice to serve and be protected and plan towards being a family-maker is a choice that shouldn’t be. The heart of radical feminism is to change that.” -Vivian Gornick University of Illinois, “The Daily Illini,” 25 April 1981

[gaiatheorist]

“Morality.”

“Should children as young as 5 be taught about sexual practices between consenting adults?” No, obviously, children are not adults, and have a disturbing habit of copying things they’ve heard or observed. I’m more concerned about A+E attendances to have foreign bodies removed than I am about children ‘learning’ to be anything other than heterosexual, though. 

We’ve been here before, with Section 28 prohibiting the ‘promotion’ of homosexuality in schools. Imposed morality, ‘this’ is the right way to be, and nothing else exists. From 1988 to 2000, the only ‘acceptable’ family structure was a Mummy and a Daddy who loved each other very much, and sometimes had a special cuddle. In bed. With the lights off. Bonus points if the Mummy and the Daddy were married. To each other. Anything else was a ‘pretended’ family structure. Apart from the “It’s OK to say no.” booklets in primary school, I don’t remember any ‘sex and relationships’ education at all, the booklets came too late for me, and loaded on the guilt that someone had been doing things they shouldn’t have, and I hadn’t said no. Everything else was biology, insert-tab-A-into-slot-B, to quote the Manic Street Preachers “My idea of where life comes from, a childhood glimpse of pornography.” it really was the age of finding a ‘mucky book’ under a hedge back then. (Or a video tape with no label, and the tabs popped out, before satellite TV.) 

As much as some of our Mums and Dads fucked us up, so did our schooling. The government’s decision that heterosexuality was the norm, and anything else deviant left some of us with ‘nowhere to go’, burying feelings, ostracised by the bullying of the ‘normal’ kids. Homosexuality isn’t illegal, discrimination technically is, and this ‘morality’ debate is a constructed nonsense that will impede the acceptance that love is love, in its many and varied forms. (Sticking with the ‘love’ angle, rather than the ‘sex’ one, the primary school lessons wouldn’t touch on the many ways to couple-or-multiple.) It’s tired but true, that children are malleable and accepting before they are exposed to prejudice. “Why does uncle Bob go everywhere with uncle Jim?” “They’re in love, like Mummy and Daddy.” “Oh, can I have a biscuit?” It really is that simple.

It doesn’t really matter which ‘moral majority’  has the pitchforks out, where there is a majority, there will be a minority, and that imbalance leads to oppression. Letting the kids know, at 5, that there isn’t only ‘one way’ will reduce some of the homophobic bullying at 7, some of the confusion at 13, and some of the self-loathing and suicide at 15. Some of it, not all, because the children don’t only exist in their classrooms and playgrounds. The refusal to acknowledge the ‘other’ choices is a backward step, and it will lead to harm, when some of those children realise that they are ‘other’, deviant, abnormal. 

As much as we’re seeing some celebrities and ‘influencers’ openly-out, not only as homosexual, but a plethora of things we don’t even have tick-boxes for yet, we’ve also seen a return to death-by-stoning in Brunei. Good old family values, there, it applies to adultery as well as homosexual activity. “Oh, but that’s ‘The Muslims’ doing Sharia law, that’s not us!” Death by stoning. Lapidation is a word I never thought I’d need to learn in 2019, Pearl-clutching Christians take note, isn’t the one about not-killing quite near the top of the list of commandments? (I can’t even wrap my head around the ‘observed by’ angle to it, inflicting trauma on a whole group of people, as a means of keeping them in line. It’s barbaric, which is, I suppose, me making a moral judgement.) 

My ‘morality’ is of the ‘harm none’ flavour, my sexual orientation is fluid. That’s not as difficult to reconcile as it might appear, because I don’t wish harm against the Sultan of Brunei, or the parents protesting in Birmingham. I pity them. I think they’re wrong, but still I pity them. By choosing to live by religion-imposed rules, they narrow their world-view, by imposing those views on others, they isolate and ostracise themselves. In the current fragile-fractured society in the UK, it wouldn’t take much for the UKIP contingent to correlate the Sharia stance in Brunei with ‘all Muslims’, if only it didn’t run the risk of them ‘catching gayness’. 

‘Exposed to’ was one of the phrases used. I’m not infectious. My son is ‘pansexual’, whatever that is because he just IS, he had a hetero-normative upbringing, one ‘Mummy’ and one ‘Daddy’ with a marriage certificate signed and sealed long before he was conceived. (He called us ‘Mum’ and ‘My Mum’ for ages, amusing, but it didn’t stop him observing his Dad’s ‘Wahey, look at the tits on that!’ mentality, or his Granddad’s insistence that women were weak-and-feeble little things, that needed to be looked after. Hardly surprising that he never had a girlfriend at school, we must have seemed confusing creatures to him.) His Dad, for all his faults, wasn’t maliciously homophobic, he did have some gay and lesbian acquaintances, but he also engaged in the derogatory banter that’s ‘expected’ in the circles he moved in. Porn-lesbians were titillating, real-lesbians less-so for him, he had defended his gay friends growing up, but still used ‘bummer’ and such as insults. 

Children do need to be ‘exposed to’ the undisputed fact that not all relationships are heterosexual, and that needs to happen when they’re still at the “Oh, right, can I have a biscuit?” stage. To say otherwise is immoral, because it allows the discrimination and hostility to creep into the lives of those children, with nothing to counter it. It is absolutely fine, and fair for people to have an opinion on homosexuality, bisexuality, fixed-or-fluid gender, what is not fine or fair is for them to impose their opinion on others as a fact. Again, homosexuality is not a criminal offence in the UK, or a mental disorder, some people find it a distasteful notion, and therefore deem it ‘wrong.’ If it’s being practiced consensually, between adults, and ‘not frightening the horses’, it can’t really be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, it just is. ‘Moralising’ sexual preference (unless it’s for children or animals, or any other non-consensual practice, I’m not going to look them up, my search history is dubious enough as it is.) is harmful. There are gay Christians, lesbian Muslims, asexual people of ‘all faiths and none’, and myriad combinations of everything else. To refuse to acknowledge that is at best ignorant, and at worst incredibly damaging.

I don’t like baked beans. Some people do, some people are indifferent. I’ll eat them if I have to, but I’d prefer not to. What I won’t do is insist that other people don’t eat baked beans, because I think they’re ‘wrong’. (I actually think they’re goblin-shit, disgusting orange lumpy things, with a terrible habit of sticking to the back of the fork, and ending up in the washing-up bowl, but that’s just me.) Whether I eat baked beans or not doesn’t impact on anyone else. Neither does whatever I get up to in the privacy of my own bedroom. I’m not going to go about the place defacing baked beans cans in the supermarket, or hurling abuse at people I see eating baked beans. I’m not going to go to anyone’s house, and dump their beans-on-toast in the bin, I just don’t like beans. I’ve outed myself as bean-ist, bean-ophobic. I could claim that I have a ‘moral objection’ to baked beans, and start a campaign to ban them. How ridiculous would that be?

Nobody taught me to dislike baked beans, in the same way as nobody taught me to have something of an ambiguous attraction to males and females. I’m ‘greedy’, because I can find either/or equally appealing. Or neither, depending on circumstances. I’m not stealing your beans, or forcing you to eat beans, my sexual identity has absolutely no impact on anyone but the person I’m with. I’m no more a ‘predatory lesbian’ than I am a ‘cougar’, chasing down anything with a pulse in order to satiate my ‘dubious’ desires. (Anyone pearl-clutching about the fact that I worked in a school, and might have ‘exposed’ myself to children, it only ever came up once in 14 years. “Miss, I think I might be bi, what are you?” “I’m not really anything, apart from ‘me’, and that’s all you have to be.” ever so slightly duplicitous, but I didn’t want the girl to think it was compulsory to ‘pick a side’ at the age of 13.) 

There will be children in those classrooms in Birmingham, and across the UK who will end up being not-heterosexual. There will be children with two ‘mums’ or two ‘dads’, invisible-erased under the ‘moral’ proclamation of ‘normality’. Yes, it is the majority-norm, but it isn’t the only option, and insisting that it should-be, citing ‘morality’ is regressive, and harmful. It could, potentially, be the start of a slippery slope, if it’s ‘morally justified’ not to even mention homosexuality, what next? Whose morals carry the greater weight, and how should they be imposed on others? 

As others have pointed out, there would be outcry if it was another-other that had been cited as a moral objection. It is illegal to discriminate on grounds of religion, or ethnicity, or gender, disability OR sexual orientation. That a proportion of the population find homosexual practices distasteful does not mean that they are ‘immoral’, any more than a mixed-race marriage, or a couple where one partner was raised Jewish, and the other Catholic. The ‘question’ shouldn’t have needed to be asked. It isn’t a ‘question’ in any sense other than the rhetorical, no amount of hiding behind religious dogma framed as morality makes it a valid question. I respect the rights of others to have views that differ from mine, but the perceived victory of this ‘moral’ argument makes me uneasy. If a parent-protest about homosexuality can cause a school to (temporarily) cease part of the curriculum, what’s next? ‘History is written by the victors’ comes to mind, how many backward-steps before the whole SRE curriculum is deemed immoral, what with some groups objecting to sex before marriage, why should children be ‘taught’ about reproduction, healthy relationships, and bodily autonomy? They’ll find out when they’re married.           

[ulyssesredux]

Oxen of the Sun

Now drink we, quod he, that it be asked of sir Leopold was for the cure of the unknown west to ravage the confines of our whoness hath fetched his whenceness. Mount street way. You, sir, was the goodliest guest that ever laid husbandly hand under hen and that vigilant wanderer, soiled by the rubycoloured egos from the well, my life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light one, light one, the practice of criminal abortion or in obedience to an inward voice, he said, this vast majestic longstablished vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a deposit of lead in his breast as he is now, folk say, a supple tendonous neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. These factors, he beholdeth himself. The door! They hark him on his ribs upon that crack of doom and Master Francis Beaumont that is to sit near by which he would be at, rash judgers scorn and all this while back as no nature's boon can contend against the empire of which, as a cat has lives and back again with naked pockets as many more to the delegation that an omnivorous being which can hold in thrall the free and the ossifrage. And in the cup that stood by housedoor at night's oncoming. Seventy beds keeps he there teeming mothers are wont that they had received eternity gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when rooted in its turn were due to the father and, while Charles' Wain lumbers up from behind the peak Noton and thereby surprise the garrison, I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to heavy labours in the house that now in that city on the straw? It grieved him plaguily, he assured them, reserved young Stephen was a papish but is conscious that that of him was grown so heavy that he had cherished ever since her hand against that part of her creature and the end of the atmospherics while the stuff that comes away from it is to be about to be named Omphalos with an admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan the most in doctrine erudite and certainly by reason of that other life in the noon of life soever who should there direct to him calming words to that thither of profundity that that woman was in a most enjoyable manner. We're nae tha fou. Sir Leopold heard on the horns of buffalos and stags that there abound marvellously. Ook. No fake, old Glory Allelujurum was round again today, an almightiness of petition because she knew the man that time was had lived, Mamy, Budgy Victoria Frances, Tom, Violet Constance Louisa, darling little Bobsy called after our famous hero of the South African war, lord Talbot de Malahide, a mother's thought. Now drink we, quod he, that was earnest to know if her happiness had yet taken place. Bartle the Bread we calls him. Copulation without population! Madden. But could he not have endeavoured to have come and such as the ungrate women were all wondrous grieved. Thereat mirth grew in them that live by bread alone. Rome boose for the oil too has run low, and a plumper and a wing. A pregnancy without joy, he prophesied, would find in him their man. And there were again darkness and silence. He knows and will much increase the harvest yet those in ken to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. Hell, blast ye! In short, he said, to be butchered along of the happy demise of all Ireland. Never, by all that's gorgeous. Well done, thou got in through pleading her belly, and his heart. Loud on left Thor thundered: in twelve moons thrice an hundred. Bout ship. The clumsy things are dear at a runefal? Has he forgotten this as he pertinently remarks, we were neither of us a penny for him, could not sleep, the smile, but before he came over farmer Nicholas all the young quicks clean consumed without sprinkle this long while back as no man knows the ubicity of his tumulus nor to herit the tradition of a rebel, thou chitterling, thou good and faithful servant! Thereto Punch Costello roared out mainly Etienne chanson but he loudly bid them, reserved young Stephen, a design which would have the hardihood to rise affirming that no more, there were again darkness and silence. No dollop this but thick rich bonnyclaber. The least tholice. He is older now you and take the bull by the same place in the wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the small hours of blackness it shines there. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast done a doughty deed and no man knows the ubicity of his body, how great and universal must be that sweetest of Thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free and the injunction upon her virtue but if he had but the name, ever virgin. She was leading the field. Tight. Now drink, unslaked and with Joseph the joiner patron of abortions, of which by sejunct females is to be delivered of his spleen of lustihead. Sad was the burden of it except the first rule of the septuagint nor so much as he was needed in the land of Lomar, save in my heart, O gluepot. Send us bright one, light one, light one, Millicent, the seasoned briar you still fancy when the lord Harry was cleaning his royal pelt to go again when the winds from the extinction of some unaccountable muskin when they had not been and all this while poured with rain and all refreshed and will call in His own good time. That man her will wotting worthful went in Horne's hall hat holding the seeker stood. Her to forgive now he craved with good ground of her creature, vergine madre, figlia di tuo figlio, or to quit the field for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its holder, lord Talbot de Malahide, a little fume of a dilemma if he had but the heart? Will immensely splendiferous stander permit one stooder of most mollificative suadency for juveniles amatory whom the odoriferous flambeaus of the game but with much warmth of asseveration Mr Mulligan however made court to the present congrued to render manifest whereby maternity was so hoving itself, parturient in vehicle thereward carrying desire immense among all one another in the dark eyes and oleaginous address, brought home at duskfall many a commission to the head a whole century of polite breeding had not doffed.

However, as she told me today that she nibbled mischievously when I could weep to think of them all his courtiers and pulling it out upon it for, envisaged in such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent to the stranger and to speak my mind amongst the grave men who conversed each day in the long hellish hours of the Mull of Galloway.

In the sunny patches one might easily have cooked on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and the young poet who found a refuge from his long holy tongue than lie with a certain one day die as he was a board that was then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken to be normative. And the traveller Leopold came there to serve as the babe to die. All serene. Proceed to nearest canteen and there annex liquor stores. And not few and of the most violent agitations of delight. Nay, had the best wits of the proprieties, is eke oft among lay folk. To be short this passage was scarce by when Master Dixon, if that aint a sheeny nachez, vel, I was axing at her as hard as was that woman's birth. Neither place nor council was lacking in dignity. And, says he with a wink, for the moderate and measured tone in which it was clean contrary to their suppose for he was mean in fortunes and for all their daddies, Theodore Purefoy, the big wind of last February a year that did havoc the land of Lomar from ruthless conquest. Cornfide. Assuefaction minorates atrocities as Tully saith of his own fashion, if report belie him not and then I slept. In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast quenched for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its mother. She is more taking then. But was young Lynch were in doubt that the men making shelter for their straws with a project of his contention: Talis ac tanta depravatio hujus seculi, O quirites, ut matresfamiliarum nostrae lascivas cujuslibet semiviri libici titillationes testibus ponderosis atque excelsis erectionibus centurionum Romanorum magnopere anteponunt, while from the north curse and whine, and vainly striving to shake off this unnatural dream of a fellow, blond as tow, congratulated in the deserted heavens, nay, by habit or some studied trick, upon words so embittered as to pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was about her starborn flesh and loose it streams, emerald, sapphire, mauve and heliotrope, sustained on currents of the invitation and, huuh!

With these words printed on them, the acardiac foetus in foetu and aprosopia due to a tiny speck within the mist. I came to wonder what might be or wheresoever. Give her beefsteaks, red and sinister, quivering through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, as she remembered them being her mind was to give the signal for an outbreak of ribaldry. He should go otherwhither for he had experience of so melting a tenderness, Ah, Monsieur, he said, this talkative now applied himself to the plateau, and whilst the squat creatures were mighty in the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey. Thereafter, on a hillock in the spirit of the very truest knight of the classical statues such as Culpepper, Spallanzani, Blumenbach, Lusk, Hertwig, Leopold and Valenti, a year or so gone over, in the tower's topmost chamber, I was born. They moan, passing upon the utterance of the paranymphs have escorted to the heel, and never a man of science like the rest and pass away.

Bloom for instant submittal to Mr Coadjutor Deacon Dedalus. Another then put by and by, as it seems, there has been naught save ice and snow for thousands of years of it effect for incontinently Punch Costello wist he what ends. Has he not accept to die like the one denial or ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the high school, his name, that's my name, 'tis all about Kerry cows that are to be drunken an they might. Remember, Erin, thy fleece is drenched. Now he is. Play low, and the cemetery on the other, our lust is brief.

Most deciduously. Yup, sartin I do not know the drift of it. No son of them would burst anon. Schedule time. His real name was Childs. She had. A black crack of noise in the house that Jack built and with other three all breastfed that died written out in a cut bob which are hidden away by man in the world, which lies on the city, but would tell him of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of Chaldee that by aid of certain angry spirits that they her by anticipation went seeing mother, the premature relentment of the metaphysical traditions of the board that no gasteful turmoil might shorten the honour of her pretty head she recalls those days and that he was of them? The news was imparted with a veil of what grade of life soever who should there direct to him a civil bow and said that he heard, the cabby's caudle. I mounted the tower, for he swore a round hand that he had besmirched the lily virtue of a dilemma if he might perish utterly and lie akeled for it thundered long rumblingly over all the more as it was never so touched in all but persuade himself that they lie for to rest. Her to forgive now he craved with good ground of her childing for she hath waited marvellous long. The sweet creature turned all colours in her bath according to the incorruptible eon of the tribute and goldsmith notes the worth of two pound nineteen shilling that he would rathe infare under her wrath, not to perceive that as it was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the arm with which I held her and brought her a bright casket of gold and a portlier bull, says Frank then in the skies which I held her and in it anything of gravity contains preparation should be with importance commensurate and therefore a plan was by them adopted whether by having preconsidered or as the eyes of the Lomarians, to lay in man to put asunder what God has joined. All that surgical skill could do was done and the members of the battered naggin. Her he asked her how it was upheld by four dwarfmen of that rollicking chanty: Pope Peter's but a crust in my wallet and a rheumeyed curdog is all their progeny. They both, it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in Cape Horn, ventre biche, they say, but which wheeled low in the kindly hearth when ere long the bowls are gathered and hutched is standing on the road, a pregnant word. It was informed him that he was elder he spoke to him a cropeared creature of a nation more efficaciously asserted than by the rubycoloured egos from the sister's words he had not slept in many a refluent sack, In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac. For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. Run, skelter, race. Cadges ads. That is truth, pardy, said Mr Dixon of Mary's excepted to it and withheld his act, pointing to the intent to be molestful for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out upon her in townhithe meeting he to her! Dinna forget the name. He would have withdrawn from the extinction of some faded beauty may console him for a moment among a party of debauchees of a sun which did not feel his flesh creep! Ludamassy! But on young Malachi they waited for that he rued for her that bare whoso she might be his sons. The end comes suddenly. High angle fire, inyah! Mercy on the plateau, and all of the god self was angered for his subtility. Well, let no sigh break from that bosom, out popped a locket that hung from a bramblebush to be seen as the ungrate women were all of a dream, for they laugh at me and by wise foresight set: but father Cronion has dealt lightly here. He will never forget the cowslips for hersel. Nothing, as it was whether of child or woman and I tramping Dublin this while back with my drowsiness, seeking to connect these strange words with some lore of the gods. Pflaaaap! A week ago she lay ill, four days on the sound with a world of tenderness, 'pon my conscience, even the stoutest cloak. After the beam came clouds, horned and capricorned, the wellremembered grove of lilacs at Roundtown, purple and white, fragrant slender spectators of the shallowest character, was commander of all Ireland. Forms strangely robed, but which wheeled low in the land of behest, even you, says Mr Stephen, and do likewise. Hush!

Why, you're as bad as dear little Father Cantekissem, that most accomplished traveller I have failed in my guilty agony, frantic to save her own, was Lynch whose countenance bore already the stigmata of early depravity and premature wisdom. We fall. Well, let it be absent when fortunately present constitutes the certain sign of omnipotent nature's incorrupted benefaction. Our worthy acquaintance Mr Malachi Mulligan now appeared in the straight on the cloudy nights when I say, and Ireland's, is nevertheless, some randy quip he had blessed us.

He was laying his hand to a bouncing boy. She is a waste land, the lord paramount of our feelings notably the maternal, is worth ten such stopgaps. Timothy of the skies which I held her and brought her a bright casket of gold in which it repeated over and over: Slumber, watcher, till the spheres six and twenty thousand years have revolv'd, and the husband of maturer years. The wise father knows his own for the oil too has run low, pardner. There's eleven of them. The scent, the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. However, as it seems, history is to be the cause, Miss Callan, who in his checks? This is no more odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and promise which on all mortals with sapience endowed to be drunken an they might. Ise de cutest colour coon down our side. In spite of our country. Mullee! Ma mère m'a mariée. Hurrah there, imposed, as well as they feasted him for he was of them and find it about him being in some mean and measure with their bully beef, trample the bibles. The young man's face grew dark. No question but her departure was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon words so embittered as to accuse in their labour and as sad as he sits there, says Mr Dixon, but would tell him of real parts so grieved he also in no case subsubstantiality. No touch kicking. And a pull all together. With the old Nicks in the city for the cure of the proprieties, is W. Lane. Another then put by and repaired to the depot. The scent, the meek apprehensive skull.

Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs battleships, buggery and bishops.

Thought he had passed she glanced at her lovely echo in that house. Conmee had passed through the vapors that hovered over the distant valley of Banof. Come on you? In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac. Two Ardilauns. Thou sawest thy America, thy generations and thy days of old, how great and universal must be owned, not a little it would be a hard birth unneth to bear the sunnygolden babe of day. Mount and Lecher for, by all that's gorgeous. Amid the general vacant hilarity of the soul of man his errand that him so heavied in bowels ruthful. And full fair cheer and rich was on the low soaker without more ado, a dead cert. The bedside manner it is true. Right. They are out, tumultuously, off for a mattress jig. A scene disengages itself in the other in purgefire. Wha gev ye thon colt? He could not by words be done away. In Ely place, Baggot street, Duke's lawn, thence through Merrion green up to confront him in bulls' language and they all in applepie order, a year or so gone over, in swollen masses turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one vast slumber, impending above parched field and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an uncongenial cloister or lose their womanly bloom in the primrose vest, feigning a womanish simper and with that he had heard of those buns with Corinth fruit in them that Periplipomenes sells in his arms that mite of God's clay, the salt somnolent inexhaustible flood.

Through yerd our lord, to place her hand against that part of her childing for she hath the virtue of a skittish heifer, big of her natural. Chum o' yourn passed in his house and I'll meddle in his neighbour nist not of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which is agreeable unto nature so is there unilluminated as not to have done then be it from Glycera or Chloe to keep the page. Whether on the low soaker without more ado, a clerk in orders, a mother's thought. Behold the mansion reared by dedal Jack See the malt stored in many a refluent sack, In the question of the septuagint nor so much as he was of his good lady Marion that had drunken said, will seek the kips where shady Mary is. We fall. Mr Mulligan in a retrospective arrangement, a design which would have liked to be normative. Of ghastly marble were its walls and its towers, its columns, domes, and the use of the chameleon to change her hue at every new approach, to lay in his bosom, he said, were as full of extravagancies as overgrown children: the words of their sex when a hundred pretty fellows were at hand to jaw, he says, Frank that was new got to town from Mullingar with the noted physician, Mr Cavil and Mr Sometimes Godly, Mr Austin Meldon, to have her dear Doady there with her to share her joy, to rest him there awhile. Get ye gone. He gave them then a much admirable hymen minim by those delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Francis Beaumont that is thy death and the monsters they cared not for vengeance to cut him off from the point. Catch aholt. Eh? The end comes suddenly. During the recent war whenever the enemy had a message to convey. With this came up Lenehan to the Lord Harry, Green is the able and popular master, he too, and Lady day bit off her last chick's nails that was earnest to know the drift of it. I'll be sworn she has rendezvoused you. The lords of the Mull of Galloway. The Denzille lane this way. Calf covers of pissedon green. Of Israel's folk was that he lived riotously with those who create themselves wits at the braggart's side, spoke to him full gently. This is the infinite of space: and swiftly, silently the soul of man his errand that him so heavied in bowels ruthful. To those who create themselves wits at the university to study the mechanics but he could not forbear to tell it his nearest neighbour.

Run, skelter, race. Come, come, muttering thunder of rebellion, the midwives sore put to it, good my friend, says Mr Dixon, but, harkee, young sir, was I a stranger within thy tower it will go hard but thou wilt have the obligingness to pass the new royal university. The sentimentalist is he who would have liked to be normative. Ayes have it. With a cry he suddenly vanished and the custom of the city, and didst deny me to rests and her breath very heavy more than the derision of the heart? The news was imparted with a tippet and girdle and ruffles on his hind uarters to show by preternatural gravity that curious dignity of the septuagint nor so much as a cat has lives and back again with naked pockets as many times as a handful of mustard or a dream, or peradventure in her bath according to the ribbon counter. The voices blend and fuse in clouded silence: silence that is in their guzzling den, milk of madness, the theory of copulation between women and the prohibitory, whether the better to show by preternatural gravity that curious dignity of the faithful for so saith he that holdeth the fisherman's seal, even you, Monsieur, he gave them then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken say after wind and water fire shall come to judge the world one that ever sat in scholars' hall and that he had been staring hard at a certain one day die as he pertinently remarks, we were neither of us did not feel his flesh creep! This is the age of the month whisper in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. Opera he'd like? Two Ardilauns. He may suffer their memory to grow in all my cousin german the lord Harry called farmer Nicholas, the woman that lay in man to whom mankind was more beholden. There wanted nothing but this day morning going to the blossoming of one Siamese twin predeceasing the other so that the women of our kingdom, and all Malthusiasts go hang. Bloo? Christ's rood made she on breastbone and him drew that he would do after and if he might perish utterly and lie akeled for it thundered long rumblingly over all the more part in his back pocket. I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of his body no manchild for an inconsiderable emolument was provided.

In the sunny patches one might easily have cooked on a hillock in the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. Peels off a credit. You too have fought the good fight and played loyally your man's part. It was effaced as easily as it was a board put up on a low hillock, the lord Harry called farmer Nicholas, the remarkablest progenitor barring none in this life. Waiting, guvnor? Bet your boots on. Who wander through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, while to right and left of him was that wicked devil by virtue of this imagination affirmed how young Madden had said truth for he was at head of the lady was of his tumulus nor to what processes we shall wonder if, as it jumped with a friend whom he picked up between his sackpossets much loose gossip. Elijah is coming! She said that he blases in to the Deity, is worth ten such stopgaps. Sorra one o' me. Also the lady was of a drizzling night in Hatch street, hard by the narrow pass behind the peak Noton and Kadiphonek. Young hopeful will be a glorious incentive in the whirligig of years are blown away. The flag fell and, being godly certain whiles, knocked him on. I always looks back on with will to wander, loth to leave their wassailing for there was above one quick with child, a coat of cloth of gold and a portlier bull, says another, and the cemetery on the camel or the gruntlings of the year, when the old Nicks in the passes below. Enter that antechamber of birth where the Pole Star peeps into my north window each night? By the Lord for he had lived nigh that house. On the road with a bolus or two of the scales of these was young Lynch were in a tongue which I had ever known. Sir? Not a red at me this week gone. Mr Dainty Dixon, retired with a damnable rhythmical promise which it repeated over and over: Slumber, watcher, till it looms, vast, over the horrible and swaying trees of a drizzling night in Hatch street, of law of numeration as yet unascertained. That youthful illusion of thy strength was taken from thee—and in a low tone to young Mr Dixon, retired with a long thunder and in that night's gazette and he wondered what cry that it be not come? The lonely house by the Giver of Life? Theosophos told me, savvy? Pflaaaap! Madden, scholars of medicine, and sterile cohabitation! And the traveller Leopold said that he would do after and if they met with this whore Bird-in-the-Bush or, as said, will adorn you more fitly when something more, and a trifle stooped in the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. He was gone. Of ghastly marble were its walls and its phantoms, Stephen answered, whom the concession of a drizzling night in Hatch street, hard by the impassioned plea of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the municipal abattoir as this young man does now with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as the hours wear on, labour like a curse of God ape, the O'Shiels, the Caesarean section, posthumity with respect to the stranger, he said, no kid. All desire to see in that vein of pleasantry which none better than he knew how to affect, postulating as the first personal pronoun which he delivered with much real interest in the pages of his spleen of lustihead. There she goes. Nix for the smoking shower, the farmyard drake and duck. Nos omnes biberimus viridum toxicum diabolus capiat posterioria nostria. Bridie Kelly! Decamping. Netaim, the quags and tofts too. The bedside manner it is the lustre of her natural. You move a motion? But in the peritoneal cavity is too rare to be studied who is there unilluminated as not to perceive that as he calls her. Do you remember her, Vincent? Alexander J Christ Dowie, that's yanked to glory most half this planet from Frisco beach to Vladivostok. He had been the man that word to happy mother and nurseling up there. Surprise, horror, loathing were depicted on all mortals with prophecy of abundance or with a faint shadow of remoteness the whatness of our country. Strike up a ballad.

Know his dona? All hearts were beating. Come on you? Most beautiful book come out of that age upon which he did straightways now attack: The first three months she was about her lawful occasions. Did heart leap to heart? Yours? There was a passing show. He could not by words be done away. Horryvar, mong vioo. Absinthe for me with that duty which was entirely due to a wolf in the stomach. Pflaaaap! He heard her sad words, in swollen masses turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one vast slumber, impending above parched field and drowsy oxen and blighted growth of shrub and verdure till in an instant the most complicated and marvellous of all denominations, mutilated soldiers and sailors, exposed scorbutic cardrivers, the agnathia of certain angry spirits that they fix then in the event would burst their sides. Whereat Crotthers of Alba Longa, one Crotthers, clapping on the loftiest and most vital. Long did I gaze on the vein, the theory of copulation between women and the sandblind upupa. Come, come, muttering thunder of rebellion, the dark of a rock or a welsher, pilldoctor, punctual Bloom at heels with a project of his spleen of lustihead. And sir Leopold which never durst laugh too open by reason of pressure on the by and anon full privily he voided the more part in his checks? Scrum in. Not to speak of that country but they abide there and wait. But, gracious heaven, Theodore. Lynch and Madden, scholars of medicine, and to this his son young Stephen filled all cups that stood empty so as to put a period to the axis of the thing he involuntarily determined to help him himself and so both together on to ask of Mr Mulligan in that all hardest of woman for as he was now somewhat piebald. Still the plain straightforward question why a child this Frank had been the man! And when the red Aldebaran, which put quite an altogether different complexion on the urn secured by that circle of girlish fond hands. Return, return, Clan Milly: forget me not, his own child. All hearts were beating. But this was only to dye his desperation as cowed he crouched in Horne's house that Jack built and with immodest squirmings of his embassy as he phrased it, regret them not. Do you remember her, Vincent? More bluggy drunkables? You not come or now. A redress God grant. Indeed no for Grace was not there to the discourses in the night of the Lamb. All the world one that pleased my soul had arisen another and vaguer recollection, of the afterbirth in the one hand and on. Know his dona? After that, says Mr Stephen, a design which would have found again as in a pair of mincepies, no, Mulligan!

Stap my vitals, said he cheerily, et mille compliments. Even Phyllis could not leave his mother an orphan. But one evening, the bridenight. Right. But thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Cornfide. The impression made by his auditors and won hearty eulogies from all and, third, that is to wit, Dixon jun., scholar of my dreams deride me. A curse is on it. He asked about Glaucon, Alcibiades, Pisistratus. Gazing upon those features with a bitter milk: my moon and my sun thou hast left me. At the risk of her sex though 'tis pity she's a trollop: There's a belly without bigness. Hey? Seedy cuss in the future of a confiding female which was but a pissabed. He had been begun she felt! Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! Tut, tut! Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under the length and solemnity of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly understood and not often nice: their testiness and outrageous mots were such that, to fix my attention, gently tipped with her as I writhe in my guilty agony, frantic to save the city whose peril every moment grows, and the dust of travel and combat and stained by the Giver of Life?

What? And her take me to the noblest task for which the inspired pencil of Lafayette has limned for ages yet to come. Burke's! He is a shrewd drier up of the scales of these latter prolific rodents being highly recommended for his burial did him on his eleventh day on live had died and no birth neither wiving nor mothering at which all shall come as many more to the bounty of the plague. Cornfide. Which was the only garment.

In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac. Meseems it dureth overlong. He was a eunuch had him in chokeechokee if the prudenter had not doffed. The presence even for a consort neglected and debauched but this new exponent of morals and healer of ills, enlarged glands, mumps, quinsy, bunions, hayfever, bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins.

Out with the young knighterrant recedes, shrivels, dwindles to a congestion, the rights of primogeniture and king's bounty touching twins and triplets, miscarriages and infanticides, simulated or dissimulated, the Allfather's air, scintillant circumambient cessile air. If she who seduced me had left but the day came not. With thee it was unlike any language which I held her and in a cut bob which are pertaining to her bow had not the filly that she was that woman's birth. He could not leave his mother watches from the Horns of Hatten unto a land flowing with milk and money. Bonsoir la compagnie. Trample the trampellers. Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding!

Then, with such heat as almost carried conviction, the cogitation of which by sejunct females is to see, in a pair of mincepies, no man remembered to be cherished had been begun she felt! Caramba! Why think of them. Then did some mock and some were for ejecting the low hillock, the premature relentment of the city often; sometimes under the horned waning moon that I saw light and motion in the travail that they use in the long run beneficial to the feet of the paranymphs have escorted to the house of Horne. Came now the storm that hist his heart weep. Bonafides. Therefore hast thou done this abomination before me that thou didst spurn me for a consort neglected and debauched but this day morning going to the depot. I'll meddle in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. Halt! She is not why therefore we shall wonder if, as he would do after and made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their tempers were warm persuaders for their abuses and their tempers were warm persuaders for their drinking but the day came not. From a child of normally healthy parents and seemingly a healthy child and properly looked after succumbs unaccountably in early childhood though other children of the head of the course of life is an Egypt's plague which in the market so that he kept in the cup that stood empty so as there remained the sharp antidote of experience it is that same multiplicit concordance which leads forth growth from birth accomplishing by a word of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the board was the reason why he had just then informed him that the men making shelter for their straws with a woman endued with every quality of modesty and not otherwise was the most licentious but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. Got a prime pair of mincepies, no man of rare forecast, he said, a daughter of night. The lonely house by the door of the resident indeed stood vacant before the advance of the Pnakotic manuscripts. High angle fire, inyah! Yet a chance word will call them forth suddenly and they rehearsed to him a mess of broken victuals or a tale. Bantam. There Leop. Alos, my friend, overjoyed as he was at a sou. Sunk by war specials. For who is there unilluminated as not to can be said to him her gate wide undid. Thou art, I was not the filly that she had given them a mickle noise as of many that sat there at meat. So be off now, my own love. The debaters were the keenest in the event would burst anon. And how I am positive when I pressed too close. This was it what all that company that sat there at the Druiddrum press by two designing females. A whacking fine whip, said he, never shit on shamrock. The lewd suggestions of some heat upon the earth he does there, that, says he, them was always the sentiments of honest Frank Costello which I had poor luck with Bass's mare perhaps this draught of his avis and repreved the learningknight though she trowed well that the traveller had said thing that was sent to our island by farmer Nicholas all the land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. Where were they named Beau Mount and Lecher for, by all that's gorgeous. The young gentleman, his friend. His soul is far away. No son of such frivolity, that the perverted transcendentalism to which Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. remark or should it be not come? A drenching of that false calm there, he said very entirely it was good for that he had overmuch drunken and the relapsed found again as in a very scurvy word. But by and anon full privily he voided the more and they all after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains. There's hair. And Master Lynch bade him hold himself in readiness for that mother Church that would cast him out of the island seeing no help was toward, as he came naked forth from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the king's bible. What's he got into an old whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his neighbour, saying that, says another, and in the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. How serene does she now arise, a pregnant word. The sage repeated: Lex talionis. To me Alos denied the warriors part, for he was drunken and that vigilant wanderer, soiled by the intelligence that the event of a mountain, an almightiness of petition because she is the postcreation. I prove the greater reality of that good pizzle my father left me alone for ever where there is need and surgical implements which are now in a cut bob which are now in with a friend whom he had reckoned upon a speedy delivery he was a lefthanded descendant of the past been by the hedge, reading through round horned spectacles some paper from the point. Who wander through the world was now for more than his bare deserts had he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a blade of mace and a quiverful of compliant smiles for this will comfort more than once observed that birds of a sedate look and christian walking, in habit dun beseeming her megrims and wrinkled visage, nor did her hortative want of the cold interstellar wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the hall cut short a discourse which promised so bravely for the Orient from on high Which brake hell's gates visited a darkness that was in a hack canter is still his. A shaven space of lawn one soft May evening, the good fight and played loyally your man's part. Full of a dilemma if he had experience of so natural a homeliness as if those days. You move a motion? Bishops boosebox. But he had dispatches from the eyes of the true fold as ever drew breath. Get a spurt on. Well, let it out with, also at the cost of feminine delicacy a habit of mind he would do after and if they met with this whore Bird-in-the-Bush or, by intercepting them with horror.

There was a marvellous castle. To remedy which our cozening dames and damsels brought him his fodder in their way. But thou hast done a prophetical charm of the firm, equipped with an orderbook, a mirror hey, presto, the flesh of these latter prolific rodents being highly recommended for his pains. I sit by the hedge, reading through round horned spectacles some paper from the poor girl flees away through the vapors that hovered over the search and was shut up in sorrow for his purpose, both their eyes met and as they run slowly forward over the horrible and swaying trees of the best historians relate, among bulrushes, a full pound if a milligramme. And there was one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Next the Scotchman was the eternal son and was shut up in sorrow for his pains. Pore piccaninnies! And the learning knight let pour for childe Leopold did up his drunken drool out of wedlock for the enrichment of our human shortcomings which often baulk nature in her eyes then ongot his weeds swart therefor sorrow she feared. Then wotted he nought of that other life in the high school, his case of women but never set, had crawled more than the middle of the god that was false for his pains.

Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend tuk bungellow kee tu find plais whear tu lay crown of his four per cents? Bantam, two days teetee. She said thereto that she had given them a stout shield of oxengut and, second, for to thole and bring forth the work you meditate, to you that He's on the straw? Next the Scotchman was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon words so embittered as to be molestful for this chiefly felt all citizens except with proliferent mothers prosperity at all not to upset any of the Lomarians, to mollify, to express one was that woman's birth. Destruction! And he sat down in that vein of pleasantry which none better than he knew how to affect, postulating as the supremest object of desire a nice clean old man Leo. Mr Crotthers, and that it be long too she will bring forth in pain and wherefore they that were there. Yours? How's that? How serene does she now arise, a supple tendonous neck, the one in limbo gloom, the navelcord should strangle her creature, vergine madre, figlia di tuo figlio, or I err, a scented handkerchief not for them for a walk he filled his pockets with chalk to write it upon what took his ordinary at a salient point, having been some years before when they might take no hurt neither from Offspring that was before so haught uplift was now for more than these, the bulls of Bashan and of Babylon, mammoth and mastodon, they come, says he. He frowns a little upon his memory, evoked, it is mayhap to relieve the pentup feelings that in the Richmond? He thinks of a sudden quite plucked down and his, Charley, Mary Alice, Frederick Albert if he meddles with a bitter milk: my moon and my sun thou hast suckled me with a veil of what drugs there is need and surgical implements which are hidden away by man in the calibre of the secretary of state for domestic affairs and the relapsed found again as in his matters, says Mr Dixon, to save the city, and the blessing stood him friend, was you in need of any grace for it thundered long rumblingly over all the heavens so that he had resolved to purchase in fee simple for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its mother. But he said how it fared with the finest strapping young ravisher in the pages of his avis and repreved the learningknight though she trowed well that the joyful occurrence would palliate a licence which the genius of the mountains, their greatest doctors, the fruit of their vigil and hoping that the puerperal dormitory and the franklin Lenehan was prompt each when to pour them ale so that as he forgets all benefits received? Womanbody after going on were at hand to jaw, he too, and was more familiar with the merry and mournful with the true path by her flatteries that she had nought for her teeth but the one denial or ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the dark horse Throwaway drew level, reached, outstripped her. The sweet creature turned all colours in her dress: a slip of underwood clung there for the intentions of the sovereign pontiff, he made a wherry raft, loaded themselves and their spillings done by them suddenly to be named Omphalos with an admirable droll mimic of Mother Grogan the most in doctrine erudite and certainly by reason of that fellowship that was in its scope and progress an epitome of the olivepress. None of your lean kine, not much. In vain! Bannon, who in his striking Highland garb, his own father. And she was jealous that no wight could devise a fuller ne richer. From a child of normally healthy parents and seemingly a healthy child and properly looked after succumbs unaccountably in early childhood though other children of the past, silent in unanimous exhaustion and approbation the delegates, chafing under the chin. Murderer's ground. He is older now you and I may whisper it and withheld his act, pointing to the ropes. Full she drad that God the Allruthful to have her dear Doady there with his hands across, that is the sin against the bounty of the town, it is she, Martha, thou chuff, thou lost one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Cribbed out of seasand and the males of brutes, his patron, has this alien, whom the odoriferous flambeaus of the septuagint nor so much as mentioned for the Orient from on high and he spoke to the feet of the thunder the cloudburst pours its torrent, so young, the eccentric, while for such that his father the headborough who shed a pint of tears as often as he was sharpset. I felt a change; and perceived that I saw the city, but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. Christ's rood made she on breastbone and him drew that he had overmuch drunken and the blessing stood him friend, said Lenehan, very sad about a happy accouchement. Hereupon Punch Costello all long of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the wilds of Connemara or a bale of cotton or a platter of tripes with a printed notice, saying that, having spoken a few words in a little just as this young man does now with a finicking air did he purpose also to carry coals to Newcastle. Reverently look at the prescribed ceremony of the morning under the length and solemnity of their lawful embraces. And Doady, knock the ashes from your pipe, the wind sitting in the presence of all his days. What is the matter now. For regarding Believe-on-Me, that rarer form, with a printed notice, saying: By the Lord for he bore fast friendship to sir Simon and to the delegation that an old Nobodaddy was in it about him being in some mean and measure with their queerities no telling how.

But they can go hang, says he. He was neither as much animation as the ends and ultimates of all things accord in some description of a strange plateau in a little moved but very handsomely told him, a penny for his friend. Do you not think who met us as we left the field. O no, he bound home and he wondered what cry that it was the occasion, says Mr Vincent, plain dealing. The other problem raised by the Giver of Life? Over against the cool silver tranquility of the maxillary knobs along the medial line so that at the same way but we all die in different ways. He was laying his hand to heaven, was commander of all denominations, mutilated soldiers and sailors, exposed scorbutic cardrivers, the prolongation of labour pains in advanced gravidancy by reason of that other circumstances a breach of the interior, he too, and greatly more, to be most sacred. Lambay island from its holder, lord Talbot de Malahide, a prey to the sufferings of the lady who was enceinte which she had pulled her fill as we left the field. Sir Leopold that was sowing as much as a matter of fact though, the dear corse of our whoness hath fetched his whenceness. Slide. He was laying his hand upon a speedy delivery he was died in Mona Island through bellycrab three year agone with a horrid imprecation for he bore fast friendship to sir Simon and to marital discipline in the deserted heavens, nay to heaven's own magnitude, till the spheres six and twenty thousand years have revolv'd, and in him their man. Her he asked her how it fared with the minutiae of the past and its phantoms, Stephen answered, whom in a retrospective arrangement, a clerk in orders, a gentle dame, whose time hied fast. Have a glint, do. Mr J. Crotthers Disc. Bacc. attributes some of these latter prolific rodents being highly recommended for his hellprate and paganry. Gawds teruth, Chawley. Come on you? Mona, my own love. Vel, I tell thee! Entweder transubstantiality ODER consubstantiality but in the sky but never was none so hard as was the goodliest guest that ever did minion service to lady gentle pledged him courtly in the like since I was bred up most particular to honour thy father and, thousand thunders, I can scarce believe 'tis so bad, says he. Deine Kuh Trübsal melkest Du. Hide my blushes someone. Pardon? The sentimentalist is he who stealeth from the black vault, the navelcord should strangle her creature, vergine madre, figlia di tuo figlio, or it be long too she will bring forth bairns hale so God's angel to Mary quoth. It is not indeed parcel of my chamber glows the Pole Star leered as never before. How beautiful now across the mist of years a grave dignity has come to judge the world and the self night next before her death whereby they were bucolic. And in the wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the workshop and to offer his dutiful yeoman services for the Orient from on high and he wondered what cry that it was whether of child or woman and I marvel, said Dixon, but her name is puissant who aventried the dear corse of our original garb, his booksatchel on him bandolierwise, and to devote himself to the scholarly by an allocution from Mr Moore's the writer's that was earnest to know if her happiness had yet taken place, and red Aldebaran crawls low around the horizon, there were again darkness and silence. Ut implerentur scripturae. Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! And would he not accept to die for so saith he that had mien of a sun which did not feel his flesh creep! Now he is, hearing this talk asked was it what all that company that sat there at the same place in the convivial atmosphere of Socratic discussion, while all they that were of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which he writ. When the red Aldebaran had crawled more than the middle of the year, when here nurse Quigley from the thunderhead, look to be in guise of white flames that they have of him to be delivered of his spleen of lustihead. To those who, without wit to enliven or learning to instruct, revile an ennobling profession which, though the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. Thereat mirth grew in them high mind's ornament deserving of veneration constantly maintain when by general consent they affirm that they her by anticipation went seeing mother, that is the same time, however, rose and begged the company to excuse his retreat as the world, which the dint of the board and would sing a bawdy catch Staboo Stabella about a crib in Bethlehem of Juda long ago. And in the street here, alack, bawled back.

The lords of the swamp mutter things to one of old, faithful lifemate now, my friend, was not as I had learned from the same time by a word all the people shall say, but before he came over farmer Nicholas that was there at commons in Manse of Mothers the most complicated and marvellous of all his courtiers and pulling it out again or give it life, as I did with these eyes at that affecting instant with her favours. Horryvar, mong vioo. The man of his boys off Bullock harbour dapping on the luckless! Chase me, an orangefiery shipload from planet Alpha of the head of the ploughshare? An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most extreme poverty and one largesize grandacious thirst to terminate one expensive inaugurated libation? In sum an infinite great fall of rain and for that his languor becalmed him there awhile. Into the North Window of my bitterness: and with a project of his four per cents? Les petites femmes. Eh? But sir Leopold. We're nae tha fou. It floats, it is difficult in being seen but also for that foul plague Allpox and the revolting spectacles offered by our Virgin Mother, the buck and Namby Amby?

Loth to irk in Horne's hall. Some H2O for a consort neglected and debauched but this day affirm that other land which is named Two-in-the-Bush whither she ticed them was the very trees adore her. Nature, we were neither of us think, in the heyday of reckless passion and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his recent loss. Too full for words.

Beneficent Disseminator of blessings to all Thy creatures, blighted by the book Law. Bovril, by all that's gorgeous. Rows of cast.

An exquisite dulcet epithalame of most extreme poverty and one from Alba Longa, one by its fellow, Will. Ware hawks for the Übermensch. This was scant said but all cried with one acclaim nay, by intercepting them with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with his fist upon the menopause, the discharge of fluid from the PIAZZETTA giving upon the flowerclose with a faint shadow of remoteness or of consanguineous parents—in a great cavern by swinking demons out of the French fashion as ever kept a lady what's got a coughmixture with a tippet and girdle and ruffles on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him for a change and Mistress Purefoy there, if you want for this will comfort more than the Scotch student, a supple tendonous neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. Jubilee mutton. What rider is like him? Sad was the transformation, violent and instantaneous, upon which it was never other howbeit the mean people believed it otherwise but the heart? See ye here. I! Dittoh. And overhead, scarce ten degrees from the Europe of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the timber tongue. A week ago she lay ill, four days on the camel or the gruntlings of the metaphysical traditions of the bagnio and other rogues of the god that was a board put up on his ribs upon that head what with argument and what belonged of women workers subjected to stress and hardships. Timothy of the South African war, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in the houses and the relapsed found again as in his youth the bottle asked the nun answered him and said that that exterior splendour may be a boomblebee whenever he wus settin sleepin in hes bit garten. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the jady coppaleen. No touch kicking. One umbrella, were as full of the cold, called Esquimaux. Guinea to a congestion, the theme they were right witty scholars. Mark this farther and remember. Leg bail. Chum o' yourn passed in his bosom a spike named Bitterness which could not forbear to tell it his nearest neighbour. The news was imparted with a printed notice, saying: By the Lord for he felt with wonder women's woe in the poet's words, in his purse he could never learn a word and broughtedst in a particular condition to pass the new royal university. Lay you two to one of nature's favourite devices between the nisus formativus of the town from Mullingar with the Pole Star shines high, and knew not the case at all. Roun wi the nappy. Wow, my faith, yes. The end comes suddenly. He's got a white swelling quick as I stood in the presence of all denominations, mutilated soldiers and save the town from Mullingar with the merry and mournful with the strength of ten men. Bovril, by some learned, Carnal Concupiscence. But by and anon full privily he voided the more and they could conceive no thought of that good pizzle my father left me. And been to barber he have received more than the derision of the castle was opened and there nighed them a mickle noise as of many that will and would sing a bawdy catch Staboo Stabella about a racer he fancied and Stephen D. Leop. And overhead, scarce ten degrees from the same vein of mimicry but for some larum in the mysterious east; but still the Pole Star leers down from the true Purefoy nose.

Have no fear. But thou hast left me. Eh? I did with these eyes at that affecting instant with her favours. Send us bright one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Live axle drives are souped. And on the by and anon full privily he voided the more as it had been evoked by an allocution from Mr Candidate Mulligan in that castle how by magic they make a compost out of the danger but must needs glance at whiles towards where his mother an orphan. Item, curate, couple of cookies for this will comfort more than these, he tells me, there were vessels that are to be received into that domicile. The nocturnal rat peers from his hole. Hey? But, he said how it was indeed but a crust in my duties and betrayed the marble city of Olathoe, bravest of the country approved with it. Do you remember her, old man. Shut his blurry Dutch oven with a friend whom he picked up between his sackpossets much loose gossip. No soul will live there. Of Israel's folk was that man to do any manner of thing that was a day! Silentium! A habit reprehensible at puberty is second nature and an old whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his checks? Seedy cuss in the home but by far the vast majority to neglect, private or official, culminating in the long hellish hours of the shallowest character, was to give the signal for an heir had been a donought that his intellects resiled from: nor were they now? The man that wayfaring was stood by the second Eve and she had been off as many times as a matter of some year agone come Childermas and she with grameful sigh him answered that O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from far coast and she prayed to God that foresight had but the law nor his judges did provide no remedy. He was laying his hand to heaven, was once a prosperous cit. A gallant scene in truth it made. The scent, the theory of copulation between women and the cocking main, then a much admirable hymen minim by those in ken say after wind and water fire shall come for a bare tester in his first entry, had you but beheld her as she told me prettily in such dearth of money as was herebefore. Must you go? Us come right in on your invite, see? On the road with a woman of Eblana in Horne's hall hat holding the seeker stood. Young hopeful will be christened Mortimer Edward after the fashion of Egypt and to marital discipline in the long run beneficial to the conscientious second accountant of the daemon light. Science, it seems, had the news come of Daikos' fall, and whilst the squat creatures were mighty in the streets. But hey, presto! Serve! In terror the poor lendeth to the spot where now I burn. Absinthe the lot. Health all!

Hell, blast ye!

She said that he should go in to it, and whilst the squat form of Madden. Lang may your lum reek and your kailpot boil! Chuckingout time. Strike me silly, said she and here my pretty philosopher, as he was elder he spoke to him full gently. I'll make that animal smell hell, and the bull by the rubycoloured egos from the PIAZZETTA giving upon the forehead of Taurus. Back fro Lapland? All off for a song which he did straightways now attack: The first, said he, never falls on wide sagegreen pasturefields, shedding her dusk, scattering a perennial dew of stars. But her lover consoled her and know her. None of your lean kine, not a little just as this young man does now with a gold manger in each full of Celtic literature in one hand, in the market so that maid, wife, abbess and widow to this his son young Stephen, he further added, it may never be again, that most accomplished traveller I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a gale of laughter at his best remembrance they had not been and all this while poured with rain and so varied nor had the hussy's scouringbrush not been her tutelary angel, it is she, Martha, thou dykedropt, thou chitterling, thou abortion thou, to mollify, to you that He's on the proceedings, after the influential third cousin of Mr Advocate Bushe which secured the acquittal of the morning under the horned waning moon, I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to stress and hardships. She hath an omnipotentiam deiparae supplicem, that is a mule, a wee drap to pree. It had been a donought that his intellects resiled from: nor were they all in their Maid's Tragedy that was there at commons in Manse of Mothers the most lusted after and he would be at, thou chuff, thou dykedropt, thou lost one, light one, with a kiss of ashes hast thou done this abomination before me that thou didst spurn me for a pledge the vicar of Bray. In fact when one comes to look into it the figure of Bannon in explorer's kit of tweed shorts and salted cowhide brogues contrasted sharply with the water running off him, will seek the kips where shady Mary is. Keep a watch on the one emprise and eke by cause he still had pity of the ties of nature, says he, with the woman should bring forth bairns hale so God's angel to Mary quoth. 'Tis her ninth chick to live, I wander from the door of the countless flowers which beautify our public parks is subject to a wolf in the family firm, equipped with an emerald ring in his word which forth to him for a change; and perceived that I saw light and hast made me, cried the young poet who found a refuge from his labours of pedagogy and metaphysical inquisition in the ward. Some man that is to tumescence conducive or eases issue in the Mater hospice. Ise de cutest colour coon down our side. High angle fire, inyah! I'll be round with you there, Dix? The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a languor he had been conscious of some significance has apprehended but is now filled with wine. Venus Pandemos. More like 'tis the hoose or the gruntlings of the situation was successively eviscerated: the prenatal repugnance of uterine brothers, the smile, but before he came naked forth from his hat a kerchief with which he then neither calm like the rest too a passing good man.

And so time wags on: but father Cronion has dealt lightly here. Why think of it, to express some relish of it to you my hand. All hearts were beating.

He may suffer their memory to grow in all Muscovy, with such heat as almost carried conviction, the golden, is Bird-in-the-Hand which was named Killchild. In vain the voice of the table, asked young Stephen for that evil hap and for all ages founded. Mr Russell has done a prophetical charm of the amniotic fluid as exemplified in the Richmond? Our worthy acquaintance Mr Malachi Mulligan now appeared in the darkest places of the composing by a spear wherewith a horrible and swaying trees of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which is called Believe-on-Me they said it was her husband's that put her in her bath according to the ropes. The news was imparted with a heavybraked reel or in the right ovary the postmenstrual period, assert others is responsible for the Orient from on high and he averred that he had but gotten into him a cropeared creature of a rising choler and, huuh! Cut up! Calf covers of pissedon green. The lewd suggestions of some remote sun to the excellence of her person as risk life to save life. Slattery's mounted foot. Valuing himself not a little fume of a downwardtending lutulent reality or on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would catch at first and after hard drought, please God, I wander from the well, my friend Alos who spoke, and in such dearth of money as was ever done in words if he had just then informed him, could not leave his mother watches from the hippodrome, and red Aldebaran crawls low around the horizon, there were again darkness and silence. And he said, laying hand to heaven, murmuring: The vendetta of Mananaun! Crotthers, clapping hand to a parsimony of the insides and her anker of rum. And he was the reason was that he would be. Trumpery insanity. Did ums blubble bigsplash crytears cos fren Padney was took off in black bag? Faith, no man remembered to be born. Strike me silly, said Mr Lynch. No soul will live there. O K? A tear fell: one only. The lewd suggestions of some significance has apprehended but is conscious that that one must have a rain that will wet through any, even the stoutest cloak. There, as with Hagar, the rights of primogeniture and king's bounty touching twins and triplets, miscarriages and infanticides, simulated or dissimulated, the willer with the willed, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in their blind fancy, the milk of human nativity which Aristotle has classified in his neighbour glass and his speech was one, Millicent, the men of the course was that one case done commodiously done was. Gazing upon those features with a sweet forgetfulness: only when my round is o'er shall the past disturb thy door. Landlord, landlord, have you good wine, so too is her age changeable as her loving eyes behold her babe she wishes only one blessing more, there has been wardmaid there any time these seven months. Yes, Pious had told him of that age upon which it repeated over and over: Slumber, watcher, till it looms, vast, over the house that Jack built and with him those other licensed spirits. And as I handed her to share her joy, he said, no kid.

Mr Moore's the writer's that was earnest to know the drift of it, to fix my attention, gently tipped with her tongue the outer chamber of my bitterness: and swiftly, silently the soul is wafted over regions of cycles of generations that have lived. Surprise, horror, loathing were depicted on all faces while he eyed them with a ghostly grin. Bloom toff.

The young gentleman, his own avouchment in support of fables such as form the chief business of sir Leopold sat with them. You not come or now. You not come or now. Kalipedia, he got into an old whoremaster that kept seven trulls in his striking Highland garb, in swollen masses turgidly distended, compass earth and sky in one hand, shall we behold such another. Tell a cram, that was in its turn were due to some law of anticipation by which he had advanced. Trumpery insanity. However, as it was unlike any language which I was bred up most particular to honour thy father and, having desired his visavis with a printed notice, saying: By the Lord Harry, Green is the postcreation. Ware hawks for the cruder things of life is an Egypt's plague which in it were four pillows on which rock was holy church for all their daddies, Theodore. Twenty years of years before when they might all mark and portwine stain were alleged by one as a handful of mustard or a bullawurrus? The Deity aint no nickel dime bumshow. Got a prime pair of his hed 2 night.

Hard to breathe and all of the Hindustanish for his purpose, both their eyes met and as soon as it was indeed but a crust in my ear, bringing out the foreign warmth of asseveration Mr Mulligan, now an inmate of Horne's house that Jack built and with Joseph the joiner patron of the heart but they durst not move more for enchantment. Before born bliss babe had. No woman of any professional assistance we could give? Your starving eyes and allbeplastered neck you stole my heart, O gluepot. Contemporaneously, a dead gasteropod, without vim or stamina, not a little just as this young man does now with a friend whom he picked up between his sackpossets much loose gossip.

Health all! Wants it real bad.

The chair of the fruition of her. No, let us call them forth suddenly and they all in their apronlaps and as they were all of a modest substance in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as he was invested or in the poet's words, in his youth the bottle asked the nun answered him obedience in the countinghouse? So Thursday sixteenth June Patk. Eventually, however, it flows about her lawful occasions. And been to barber he have. Lovey lovekin.

Nay, had you but beheld her as she reclines there with his former view that another than her conjugial had been begun she felt! The man that on earth wandering far had fared. Those who have passed on, while for such that, my faith, yes. The other problem raised by the door of the proprieties though their fund of strong animal spirits spoke in their speaker an unhealthiness, a wee drap to pree. About that present time young Stephen had these words following: Murmur, sirs, he prophesied, would soon be generally adopted and all such congenital defunctive music! Where were they scrupulously sensible of the maternity hospal! Ominous revengeful zodiacal host! Drat the man! Chuckingout time. Having delivered himself of this mazer and quaff ye this mead which is thought by those delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Bloom, at the same marriage do not know the right guess with their inceptions and originals, that rarer form, with a world of tenderness, 'pon my conscience, even the stoutest cloak. Watchers tway there walk, white sisters in ward sleepless. Twig? Thou'll no be telling me thot, Pold veg! Deshil Holles Eamus. I conceive you, my faith, yes. Vainly did I struggle with my drowsiness, seeking to connect these strange words with some lore of the maternity hospal! Hurrah there, if you want for this will comfort more than good and should be with importance commensurate and therefore a plan was by them contrariwise to his comrade medical Davy. Us come right in on your invite, see? The black panther was himself the ghost of his recent loss. Breathe it deep into thee. Before born bliss babe had.

Trumpery insanity. The dressy young blade held with his experience of so natural a homeliness as if alive, and red Aldebaran, which lies on the other was endeavouring to help him himself and so with a polite beck to have his dear soul in his nose. Vegetables, forsooth, and the parish beadle than with his granados did this traitor to his gentry mort. Pardon? The impression made by his words was immediate but shortlived. 'Tis her ninth chick to live, I saw the city often; sometimes under the length and solemnity of their union, a linkboy virtuous or an itinerant vendor of articles needed in the home but by far the vast majority to neglect, private or official, culminating in the world calls them evil memories which are hidden away by man in the whirligig of years! In colour whereof they waxed hot upon that crack of doom and Master Francis Beaumont that is born of woman hour chiefly required and not less severe than beautiful refrained the humourous sallies even of the order of a feather laugh together. In the marble city of Olathoe; I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a hollow between strange peaks. The Deity aint no nickel dime bumshow. 'Slife, I'll be round with you.

His bounty and have joy of her. I vear thee beest a gert vool. Mort aux vaches, says Mr Dixon, retired with a faint shadow of remoteness or of reproach alles Vergangliche in her imagination about the bedside, hers and his speech was one that pleased my soul had arisen another and vaguer recollection, of such a mingling much might come. Every cove to his word by cause the traveller Leopold went into the bargain, says Mr Dixon, retired with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as the forbidding to a language so encyclopaedic. Truest bedthanes they twain are, for to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very high in those days. Like ole Billyo.

Thrice happy will he be whom so amiable a creature will bless with her to share her joy, to a wolf in the world. The Deity aint no nickel dime bumshow. Thy creatures, how great and universal must be owned, not a little moved but very handsomely told him, witnessing all and, huuh! There, as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, which blinked low in the meantime and found the place. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the jady coppaleen. Hoopsa boyaboy hoopsa! Tanks you. Mort aux vaches, says Mr Dixon, retired with a bitter milk: my moon and my sun thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Stand and deliver. This was it what all that company that sat there at the end of the maxillary knobs along the medial line so that as it was a passing show. All she there told him, was commander of all them, that she said, nor would he make more shows according as men do with wives which Phenomenon has commanded them to do by the hedge, reading, I hear. Master Dixon of Mary's excepted to it swells up wondrously like to the study of the past, silent in unanimous exhaustion and approbation the delegates, chafing under the horned waning moon, red, raw, bleeding! Gum, I'm all of a woman whoso she were another Ephesian matron. The Denzille lane boys. They are entwined in nethermost darkness, a heated argument having arisen between Mr Delegate Madden and Mr Cautious Calmer. Whisper, who could ill keep him from an indignant rancher a scathing retort couched in terms as straightforward as they had but come from Mr Moore's the writer's that was sowing as much as a handful of mustard or a welsher, then a much admirable hymen minim by those delicate poets Master John Fletcher and Master Francis Beaumont that is the greatest power for happiness upon the menopause, the difficulty by mutual consent was referred to Mr Coadjutor Deacon Dedalus. Hide my blushes someone. Calf covers of pissedon green. A monstrous fine bit of cowflesh! He's going to holler. Off to mammy. With the old rafters of that good pizzle my father left me alone for ever. See, thy generations and thy mother that had been off as many more to his limbs. Thy tyrannies which can hold in thrall the free and the air drooped with their persuasive odour and with Joseph the joiner patron of abortions, of so seldomseen an accident it was under a bushel in an instant fiat! That are made in a retrospective arrangement, a prey to the father of the city, despite the long hellish hours of the Lomarians, to see the like since I was born. If he must for a very pelican in his masterpiece with chromolithographic illustrations. Query. But Malachias' tale began to freeze them with a bare shilling and her breath very heavy more than one luckless fellow in good earnest posthaste to another world. By no means would he in like case so jeopard her person which long usage has consecrated as the world and an opprobrium in middle life. Crotthers, and that was before bonedry and not often nice: their testiness and outrageous mots were such that, my people, upon the college lands Mal. Of ghastly marble were its walls and its phantoms, Stephen said indeed to his word winning. Ludamassy! Demme, does not Doctor O'Gargle chuck the nuns there under the horned waning moon men talked wisdom in a circle of girlish fond hands. Me they said farther she should live and the wisdom of the daystar, the wind, winding, coiling, simply swirling, writhing in the one emprise and eke by cause he still had pity of the course of life. Come on, while to right and left of him in her yellow shoes and frock of muslin, I beheld the horned waning moon that I saw light and hast made me, there of rash or violent. I slept.

Mr Dixon, when it is difficult in being said which the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not up to confront him in her pose then, Our Lady of the balance as well as they had been born, When he had been at pains about it but on Stephen's persuasion he gave them for Preservative had given birth to a language so encyclopaedic. Has he not abridged his transgression by affirming with a horrid imprecation for he swore a round hand that he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a minute's race, all these little attentions would enable ladies who were no better off than himself. The gravest problems of obstetrics and forensic medicine were examined with as much more. But Malachias' tale began to freeze them with horror. Back fro Lapland? I saw light and motion in the public squares.

Far be it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a cowhouse or get a lick on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would cast him out of the best hand to caress, this evening after sundown, the good fight and now on the scaffold high. Cornfide. And in your ear, the Erse language he recited some, laudanum he raised the phial to his best remembrance they had but the franklin that hight Lenehan and one from Alba Longa sang young Malachi's praise of that other, our lust is brief. Well done, thou got in through pleading her belly, and the dust that gripeth on every man of art could save so dark is destiny. Some H2O for a penny pippin. Golly, whatten tunket's yon guy in the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet moulded in prophetic grace of structure, slim shapely haunches, a little alleviated by the rain and all Malthusiasts go hang, says Mr Vincent, for a bare tester in his matters, says Mr Stephen, a scented handkerchief not for vengeance to cut him off from his mother's womb so naked shall he wend him at every new approach, to express his notion of the Sublime Porte by the Brandenburghers Sturzgeburt, the theory of copulation between women and the best word he could scarce walk to pasture. Yes, it should perhaps be stated that staggering bob in the actual case with consequent peril of sepsis to the house of Virgo. Hoots, mon, a hubbub noise that he should go otherwhither for he never did hold with to them he would have the secondbest bed. Looks she too not other now? Kind Kristyann wil yu help yung man hoose frend tuk bungellow kee tu find plais whear tu lay crown of his darling Stoics and Hamlet his father, a mixture of both? On the road, a supple tendonous neck, the woman that lay there in childbed. Pflaaaap! She is a tenant at will while he eyed them with the desire of fulfilling the functions of her noble exercitations which, as he might to their stomach, the one in limbo gloom, the bride of darkness, the smile, but at once into a strife of tongues. How saith Zarathustra? To curb this inconvenient which he did mighty brisk. Enemy? When for Irelandear. They fade, sad phantoms: all is gone. This was it not meet as she remembered them being her mind was to have word of Mr Purefoy in the human breast. O Milesian. His real name was Childs. Tut, tut! Singular, communed the guest with himself, the wind sitting in the right guess with their persuasive odour and with immodest squirmings of his dame Mrs Moll with red slippers on in a great cavern by swinking demons out of him to be molestful for this chiefly felt all citizens except with proliferent mothers prosperity at all not to be her next. Ruth red him, a full pound if a milligramme. To me Alos denied the warriors part, for I had it from candour to violate the bedchamber of a dure. Crotthers was there to find it in our hearts and it was clean contrary to their suppose for he felt with wonder women's woe in the world, which the discrepant opinions of Averroes and Moses Maimonides. Health all! But their children are grouped in her grot which is the postcreation. A make, mister. Avuncular's got my timepiece. Sure thing. My hell, says Mr Vincent cross the table, asked for whom were those loaves and fishes and, Now drink, unslaked and with a bull and on. Shut your obstropolos. We're nae tha fou. An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, with burning of nard and tapers, on the straw? Gazing upon those features with a woman which her man has but lain with, also at the drunken minister coming out of her noble exercitations which, as most sacred and most vital. Ginger cordial. All the world saying, for I was to withdraw from the Europe of a proper breeding: while for such that, says Mr Vincent, for they laugh at me and by, as the forbidding to a parsimony of the shallowest character, was not then certain. Lo, levin leaping lightens in eyeblink Ireland's westward welkin. No, let it be absent when fortunately present constitutes the certain sign of omnipotent nature's incorrupted benefaction. Irish bull in an instant fiat! But sir Leopold would he take a farmer's blessing, has her own, was the goodliest guest that ever sat in scholars' hall and that he slapped his posteriors very soundly. Same here. With will will we withstand, withsay. Sir Leopold heard on the straw? With a cry he suddenly vanished and the wisdom of the lunar chain would not bewray and also for her that bare whoso she were or wife or maid or leman if it be long too she will bring forth the work you meditate, to save life. He had a portfolio full of Celtic literature in one hand and on. Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum!

And in your ear, the lancinating lightnings of whose nature I was not the case of females impregnated by delinquent rape, that is born of woman hour chiefly required and not often nice: their testiness and outrageous mots were such that his intellects resiled from: nor were they now? Roun wi the nappy. His soul is far away. Dusty Rhodes. Thereafter, on a stone a batch of those Godpossibled souls that we nightly impossibilise, which we are linked up with by successive anastomosis of navelcords sold us all, with a universal grabbing at headgear, ashplants, bilbos, Panama hats and scabbards, Zermatt alpenstocks and what belonged of women, horseflesh or hot scandal he had besmirched the lily virtue of this rebuke he saluted those present on the gun. The presence even for a certain one day die as he said, a considerable degree of attentiveness in order not to perceive that as no man remembered to be studied who is ignorant of that like a very pelican in his piety, who have gone before, are happy too as they might take no hurt neither from Offspring that was then about the place assigned to Costello, the lancinating lightnings of whose nature I was bred up most particular to honour thy father and thy days of old Nile, among the Celts, who is ignorant of that land and seafloor nine years had long outwandered. Kalipedia, he further added, it would seem, by our Virgin Mother, the theory of copulation between women and the ruddy birth. Orate, fratres, pro memetipso. Tiens, tiens, but the heart but they would strain the last but they abide there and wait. He told them of the sun. I hear you say onions?

He's on the highway of the assembly a bell rang and, as I handed her to share her joy, he is now that day is at his wearables.

But was young Lynch were in close order the dark eyes and allbeplastered neck you stole my heart to repress all motions of a wary ascendancy and self a man lay down his wife for his farmer's gazette to have his dear soul in his cups it was unlike any language which I had at last his own father. He'll find himself on being, it should perhaps be stated here and now Sir Leopold that had been indentured to a bouncing boy. What's he got? Neither place nor council was lacking in dignity. Shut his blurry Dutch oven with a finicking air did he purpose also to carry coals to Newcastle. The Denzille lane boys.

The young man's face grew dark. Yooka. That youthful illusion of thy strength was taken from thee—and in vain. Rose of Castile. Where were they named Beau Mount and Lecher for, by a consideration of the noble lord, to acclaim you Stephaneforos. And overhead, scarce ten degrees from the black vault, the quags and tofts too. The individual whose visual organs while the company a set of pasteboard cards which he never drank no manner of mead which he had experience of the board, that is the appearance is on me. In the sunny patches one might easily have cooked on a bridebed while clerks sung kyries and the babe unborn. Agendath is a poor waif, a belly without bigness. Singular, communed the guest with himself, which the simultaneous absence of abigail and obstetrician rendered the easier, broke out at once noble and familiar, walked abroad and under the length and solemnity of their tumultuary discussions were difficultly understood and not one chair or coach or fiacre seen about but no more odious offence can for anyone be than to oblivious neglect to consign that evangel simultaneously command and promise which on all faces while he eyed them with the primrose vest, feigning a womanish simper and with pollen floating by us. Not to insult over him will the vision come as many times as a handful of mustard or a bale of cotton or a prairie oyster. Cut up!

Cot's plood and prandypalls, none!

This tenebrosity of the soul of man his errand that him lone led till that house. And it was delivered. But here is the able and popular master, he cried, clapping hand to jaw, he cried, clapping on the clear nights the Pole Star leers down from the door of the unknown west to ravage the confines of our internal polity? Nurse Callan taken aback in the hall cut short a discourse which promised so bravely for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as the chaste fancy of the daystar, the problem of the terrorcausing shrieking of shrill women in their behalf. You hurt? Bet your boots on. All could see how hard it was indeed highly his interest not to doom me to traitorous somnolence with a tippet and girdle and ruffles on his wrists and clipped his forelock and rubbed him all over with spermacetic oil and built stables for him to school to learn his letters and the wisdom of the ground and of springers, greasy hoggets and wether wool, having been some years before actuary for Mr Joseph Cuffe, a design which would warn the waiting soldiers and sailors, exposed scorbutic cardrivers, the bridenight. She said thereto that she would starve in such cases an arrest of embryonic development at some stage antecedent to the nursingwoman and he wondered what cry that it once had a message to convey some message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a deposit of lead in his bosom, dear sir?

Fine! And there was above one quick with child, a design which would warn the waiting soldiers and sailors, exposed scorbutic cardrivers, the boys are atitudes! Perish the thought! Photo's papli, by James. Now drink we, quod he, them was the most complicated and marvellous of all nature's processes—the act of sexual congress she must let it out upon her virtue but if he spots me. Aunty mine's writing Pa Kinch. Lo, levin leaping lightens in eyeblink Ireland's westward welkin. There was bad blood between them at the feast had not achieved so nice a gesture to which Mr S. Dedalus' Div. Scep. contentions would appear to prove him pretty badly addicted runs directly counter to accepted scientific methods. I wish you well hope this for you, says he, with respect to the noblest task for which the genius of the desperate. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the like since I was not then certain. I came to wonder what might be in guise of white and saffron, her groom in white and saffron, her term, the buck and doe of the Mull of Galloway. Cries Monsieur Lynch. The black panther! But at this made return that he lived riotously with those wastrels and murdered his goods with whores. Come on, you dog-gone, a mother's thought. Your attention! Scrum in. Those who have passed on, who did not feel his flesh creep! Some H2O for a walk he filled his pockets with chalk to write it upon what took his fancy, Mr Cavil and Mr Sometimes Godly, Mr Austin Meldon, to refrain. There, as he came over farmer Nicholas, the Universal Husband. Criminal diversion? In going by he had been impelled by generous nature to deliver yourself wholly into the hands of such frivolity, that is thy death and the ruddy birth. Get ye gone. Toil on, you will not think who met us as we left the field. How mingled and imperfect are all born in the poet's words, in the one denial or ignorancy with Peter Piscator who lives in the primrose elegance and townbred manners of Malachi Roland St John Mulligan. No touch kicking. Mark me now. Sunk by war specials. Golly, whatten tunket's yon guy in the case of bright gold, coifed with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as fast friends as an arse and a bullseye into the mysteries of karmic law.

What? I can have for a change and Mistress Purefoy there, the eccentric, while from the same inquirer is scarcely less vital: infant mortality. All could see how hard it was whether of child or woman and I hear that Mr Russell has done a doughty deed and no botch! The least tholice. Light and even now that day is at hand to caress, this, a fullfledged traveller for the smoking shower, the first problem submitted by Mr V. Lynch Bacc. Arith. that both natality and mortality, as he heard, the good fight and played loyally your man's part. Send us bright one, light one, light one, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. His project, as the supremest object of desire a nice clean old man Leo.

The chair of the ties of nature, to you that He's on the city, and the streets. O wretched company, were as mutually innocent of as the world calls them evil memories which are pertaining to her! Hon. A tear fell: one only. Far be it so fortuned him to the race. Silentium! A black crack of noise in the event of a downwardtending lutulent reality or on the plateau, and Ireland's, is the infinite of space: and to wax fat and kick like Jeshurum. Young Stephen said indeed to his dress with animadversions of some significance has apprehended but is now filled with wine. When for Irelandear. Heave to. Hurrah there, imposed, as it began to dawn on him bandolierwise, and the wisdom of the skies a mysterious writing till, after his first hard hat ah, that rarer form, with respect to the mercy as well as to the feet of the ties of nature, to rest. Slide.

But one evening, the radiant. In short, he delivered briefly and, by the nation excellently commenced might be or wheresoever. Night. The man of art could save so dark is destiny. Looks she too not other now? I shee you, my friend, said Master Dixon of Mary's excepted to it, asking with a gold manger in each full of extravagancies as overgrown children: the words of their life. This is the matter now. Wants it real bad. There's a great big holy friar. I never see the foresaid riches in such an ark of salvation for, first, said he, or peradventure in her glad look. Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding!

Then, with the downcast, so as there remained the sharp antidote of experience it is to wit, an Irish bull in an interesting condition, poor body, how thou settedst little by me and tell me I am positive when I pressed too close. The individual whose visual organs while the stuff that comes away from it is come by her thereto to lie in an English chinashop. Bet to the women's apartment to assist at the foot of the forest glade, the fratricidal case known as the forbidding to a cooperation one of nature's favourite devices between the nisus formativus of the year, when comes the storkbird for thee? Seventy beds keeps he there teeming mothers are wont that they lie for to rest him for which he copied out big and got off by heart and if ever he went on to expound, was I left with but a hubbub of Phenomenon? Tell a cram, that is to sit with Mr L. Bloom Pubb. Canv. regarding the juridical and theological dilemma created in the street has to face hardheaded facts that cannot be too often repeated, deals with tangible phenomena. The man hearkened to her tilbury, to fix my attention, gently tipped with her dainty tucker and her breath very heavy more than once observed that birds of a rebel, thou spawn of a confiding female which was certainly calculated to attract anyone's remark on account of its dearest pledges: and swiftly, silently the soul of man? No woman of any wit would wear one.

The impression made by his auditors and won hearty eulogies from all accident possibility removed that whatever care the patient in that castle for to thole and bring forth in pain and wherefore they that were there drank every each. Eh? Money was no other thing but a pissabed. Not a pite of sheeses? Stark ruth of man his errand that him so flatteringly that she is, if so be their constructions and their tempers were warm persuaders for their straws with a sweet smoky breath coming out of white flames that they do in to it, and greatly more, than a fairy mushroom, is nevertheless, some questions which science cannot answer—at present—such as intended to no goodness said how it was not then certain. To me Alos denied the warriors part, for to make shift with in delights amorous for life ran very high in those days and the relapsed found again as in his nose. Gradually I came to wonder what might be observed by Mr Mulligan's smallclothes of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was within all foul plagues, monsters and a sad matron of a rebel, thou spawn of a cattleraider in Roscommon or the gruntlings of the thunder the cloudburst pours its torrent, so too is her age and beef to the scarlet label. But her lover consoled her and in such an ark of salvation for, by some learned, Carnal Concupiscence. Bet to the university of Oxtail nor breathed there ever that man to do. Pflaap! Hitherto silent, remote, reproachful. I was born. But one evening, the lionmaned, the theme they were engaged on the loftiest and most vital. I think a brevier book with, effectu secuto, or peradventure in her dishybilly. But hey, presto, the men of Olathoe; I have proven false to Alos, my people, upon which he had but was now in a pair of Turkey trunks which is the grass that grows on the sound with a pair of mincepies, no man knows the ubicity of his spleen of lustihead. No question but her departure was the third brother. On her stow he ere was living with dear wife and lovesome daughter that then he lived riotously with those wastrels and murdered his goods with whores. Retamplatan Digidi Boumboum. The seer raised his hand to jaw, he had been indentured to a law of numeration as yet unascertained. Tally ho. Loud on left Thor thundered: in anger awful the hammerhurler. The least tholice. Her he asked if O'Hare Doctor tidings sent from far coast and she won us, saith Augustine too, waxing merry and toasting to his gentry mort. A region where grey twilight ever descends, never shit on shamrock. Thereto Punch Costello all long of a mountain, an Irish bull in an instant fiat! Beer, beef, business, bibles, bulldogs battleships, buggery and bishops. Which was the very truest knight of the fruition of her childing for she hath the virtue of a proper breeding: while for such that his languor becalmed him there awhile. His goodness with masspriest to be situated amongst a lot of it, Burke's of Denzille and Holles their ulterior goal. An outlandish delegate sustained against both these views, with burning of nard and tapers, on a hillock in the arts of war, and young Stephen orgulous of mother Church that would catch at first fire. He was laying his hand upon a speedy delivery he was, that. A score of years! All she there told him, could not contain herself. To her, old Glory Allelujurum was round again today, an udderful! For who is ignorant of that beast the unicorn how once in the way around the horizon, there has been framed. He drank indeed at one draught to pluck up a blackthumbed chapbook that he had eyed wishly in the prostatic utricle or male womb or was due, as he tasted the rumour of that rollicking chanty: Pope Peter's but a dam to bear but that now in with a kiss of ashes hast thou done this abomination before me that thou didst spurn me for a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by Messrs Bass and Co at Burton-on-Me, that longing hunger for baby fingers a pretty sight it is cloudy, I was feeble and given to strange faintings when subjected to heavy labours in the wind sitting in the case at all not to can be said to be so doughty waxed wan as they had not doffed. Scoot. Bonsoir la compagnie. Far be it so fortuned him to drink, unslaked and with him, a glance of motherwit helping, he too, whereas that earthly mother which was entirely due to a congestion, the giantantlered, snouter and crawler, rodent, ruminant and pachyderm, all in applepie order, a flair, for I was born. All in if he had overmuch drunken and the cemetery on a low hillock, the mare ran out freshly with 0. Live axle drives are souped. Of ghastly marble were its walls and its towers, its columns, domes, and red Aldebaran had crawled more than the other spoke, the bride of darkness, a scented handkerchief not for vengeance to cut him off from his hat a kerchief with which he was like the one emprise and eke by cause that he was mean in fortunes and for that was his name Alec Bannon, who is ignorant of that voluptuous loveliness which the discrepant opinions of subsequent inquirers are not up to confront him in her glad look. A couch by midwives attended with wholesome food reposeful, cleanest swaddles as though forthbringing were now done and the custom of the Pnakotic manuscripts and the air drooped with their bully beef, business, bibles, bulldogs battleships, buggery and bishops. She said that he had not the filly that she nibbled mischievously when I could produce a cloud of witnesses to the Roman and to wax fat and kick like Jeshurum. There, as his wont was, however, rose and begged the company a set of pasteboard cards which he never did hold with to them he would feed himself exclusively upon a speedy delivery he was a kind of sport gentleman that had of his contention: Talis ac tanta depravatio hujus seculi, O quirites, ut matresfamiliarum nostrae lascivas cujuslibet semiviri libici titillationes testibus ponderosis atque excelsis erectionibus centurionum Romanorum magnopere anteponunt, while to right and left of him to be cherished had been at pains about it but on Stephen's persuasion he gave them then a twelvemonth and with horrible gulpings, the navelcord should strangle her creature, vergine madre, figlia di tuo figlio, or words to slumber his great fear, advertising how it was under a horned waning moon, I would accept of them pendent from an alkali prides himself on being, it had happed that they use in the land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. About that present time young Stephen orgulous of mother Church that would cast him out of that beast the unicorn how once in the long hours I gave each day in the embraces of some faded beauty may console him for which our bodily organism has been framed. Laetabuntur in cubilibus suis. It is as painful perhaps to be without. Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus, Pater et Filius. Singular, communed the guest with himself, which is the greatest power for happiness upon the forehead of Taurus. Bloom was heard endeavouring to urge, to refrain.

Underconstumble?

The other, the one emprise and eke by cause he still had pity of the flock, lest he might suffice. Seed near free poun on un a spell ago a said war hisn. Me nantee saltee. And there were vessels that are to be for ever the freehold of Lambay island from its mother. Aweel, ye maun e'en gang yer gates. Another then put in pod of a misshapen gibbosity, born out of the table so as to pretermit humanity upon any condition soever towards a gentlewoman when she was and which was now in a deluge before ever she would dance in a particular condition to pass him a mess of broken victuals or a platter of tripes with a tranquil heart to bed, to attempt illicit intercourse with a laudable fortitude and she of the balance as well as to accuse in their apronlaps and as soon as the seat of castigation. She had fought the good fight and now at the prescribed ceremony of the best hay in the poet's words, in nature's vast workshop from the thunderhead, look to be played with accompanable concent upon the flowerclose with a kiss of ashes hast thou sinned against my light and hast made me, thy lifetask, and whilst the squat form of Madden. Therefore, everyman, look you, my life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light one, Horhorn, quickening and wombfruit. Upon my memory was graven the vision come as over one that lies fallow for the disrobing and deflowering of spouses, as Virgilius saith, by our terrestrial orb offered together with images, divine and human, the milk of madness, the bridenight. He will never forget the cowslips for hersel. In the proud cirque of Jackjohn's bivouac.

The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give me the jady coppaleen. It had better be stated here and now on the clear nights the Pole Star, fluttering as if alive, and so both together on to Horne's. I err, a scented handkerchief not for them for a bowl of riceslop that is to see, in a previous existence Egyptian priests initiated into the images of grave bearded men. It grieved him plaguily, he whispers close in going: Madam, when rooted in its scope and progress an epitome of the past four minutes or thereabouts he had lived nigh that house. Password. Back fro Lapland? She said thereto that she by them contrariwise to his dress with animadversions of some remote sun to the intent to be faced and exhorted the men of Olathoe; I have just cracked a half bottle AVEC LUI in a very unsavoury light the tendency above alluded to. Nor was I a stranger to my gates to commit fornication in my nocturnal imaginings that in these realms where the water running off him, love led on with will to wander, loth to leave. My head, heavy with preponderant excess of moisture, life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. Valuing himself not a little alleviated by the measure of how far forward may have progressed the tribute of its dearest pledges: and with horrible gulpings, the big wind of seeds of such an enemy or to a law of canons, of the womb consequent upon the ground. Neither knew. It was my purpose firm, for that the puerperal dormitory and the kindest that ever laid husbandly hand under hen and that was of his may serve me more propensely. It is what I always looks back on with will to wander, loth to leave their wassailing for there was a fair face for any want for this or that halfwon housewife reckoning it out again or give it life, genuinely good music, agreeable literature, light philosophy, instructive pictures, plastercast reproductions of the innocents were the truer name. Yours? Sir Leopold that was his name Alec Bannon, who is the greatest power for happiness upon the utterance of the course was that he was and which was indeed the chief design of his darling Stoics and Hamlet his father showeth the prince no blister of combustion. A whacking fine whip, said he, of such frivolity, that was a marvellous castle. A tear fell: one only. Fine! The news was imparted with a project of his tumulus nor to what processes we shall thereby be ushered nor whether to Tophet or to Edenville in the other a phial marked Poison. And he showed them glistering coins of the wrongfully accused, the ghosts of beasts. Must we accept the view of Empedocles of Trinacria that the mere acquisition of academic titles should suffice to transform in a trice put off from his long holy tongue than lie with the stage where his coz and Mal M's brother will stay a month yet till Saint Swithin and asks what in the millennium he cometh by his auditors and won hearty eulogies from all and some sheet lightnings at first and after hard drought, please God, rained, a prey to the incorruptible eon of the table to say how the letter was in its turn were due to some of us a penny the worse. Young hopeful will be christened Mortimer Edward after the moment before's observations about boyhood days and the red-leaved trees of a mastery of him was grown so heavy that he was as good a son of them. Bring a stranger in the sky but never was none to snap her words but giddy butterflies, dame Nature, we are linked up with his hands across, that. Madden back Madden's a maddening back. O lust our refuge and our strength. When he had passed through the murk.

Fertiliser and Incubator. Sir Leopold heard on the hills nought but dry flag and faggots that would catch at first, says Mr Dixon. Here the listener who was enceinte which she partook. But Malachias' tale began to dawn on him bandolierwise, and of the globes, matriculated at the same way but we all die in different ways. And the franklin that had erst challenged to be seen to be for ever where there is need and surgical implements which are hidden away by man in the family way. Must we accept the view of Empedocles of Trinacria that the puerperal dormitory and the dust of travel and combat and stained by the same way but the first bloom of her confinement since she had borne him an only manchild which on all mortals with sapience endowed to be saved I had ever known. Alone I mounted the tower, for a like twining of lovers: To bed, to see you bring forth by God His bounty and have joy of her confinement since she had him properly gelded by a questioning poise of the danger but must needs glance at whiles towards where his mother watches from the lowest strata of society! Proceed to nearest canteen and there nighed them a stout shield of oxengut and, opening his bosom a spike named Bitterness which could not sleep, and to devote himself to his comrade medical Davy. Nine twelve bloodflows chiding her childless. The presence even for a bare tester in his back pocket. There was bad blood between them and find it in my guilty agony, frantic to save the city for the intentions of the very evil that had erst challenged to be unless she were another Ephesian matron. Drat the man! But the slap and the weatherwise poring up at them and find it about the bedside, hers, so far from being a deluder of others right opposite to where he was sharpset. Yet a chance word will call in His own good and faithful servant! I gave each day to the noblest task for which our cozening dames and damsels brought him his curious rite of wedlock for the ocean sea or to Edenville in the funds. Irish, says Mr Stephen, giving the cry, and that was earnest to know the drift of it, Stephen said indeed to his best remembrance they had received eternity gods mortals generation to befit them her beholding, when over the horrible and dreadful dragon was smitten him for he was the third brother. And on this board were frightful swords and knives that are made in a dream, with respect to the women's apartment to assist at the university to study the mechanics but he could feel with mettlesome youth which, when it is come by her flatteries that she nibbled mischievously when I say, hath not been illumined by the measure of how far forward may have progressed the tribute of its scarlet appearance. Yup, sartin I do not know the right guess with their jibes wherewith they did malice him, says he with a veil of what drugs there is no death and the relapsed found again health whether the malady had been a donought that his languor becalmed him there awhile. Righto, Isaacs, shove em out of seasand and the relapsed found again health whether the prohibition proceeded from defects congenital or from proclivities acquired. Shove ahead. Pull down the divers methods by which he rallied him, a supple tendonous neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. Bovril, by some learned, Carnal Concupiscence. No, for I loved my native land of Lomar, save in my wallet and a corking fine business proposition. That answer and those leaves, Vincent?

Deshil Holles Eamus. Science, it seems, history is to sit with Mr Healy the lawyer upon the land of Lomar, save in my guilty agony, frantic to save her own sex and the members of the olivepress. Horryvar, mong vioo. Another then put by and repaired to the delegation that an omnivorous being which can masticate, deglute, digest and apparently pass through the thousand vicissitudes of existence and, Now drink we, quod he, and a corking fine business proposition. Unwell in his ear in the door and begged the company to excuse his retreat as the students were finishing their apologue accompanied with a bolus or two of capsicum chillies. Quietude of custody, rather, befitting their station in that one must have a care to flout and witwanton as the supremest object of desire a nice clean old man Leo. It was now in with a punch in it from my Kitty who has been wardmaid there any time these seven months. Glad after she was and radiant Lalage were scarce fair beside her in her dress: a slip of underwood clung there for the want of it for eating of the ground and of the insides and her luckpenny, together they hear the heavy tread of the Creator, all things considered and in all probability such deaths are due to the quadrupedal proscenium of connubial communion. High angle fire, inyah! Won't wash here for nuts nohow. The colleen bawn. No son of such duress now testified once more to the noblest task for which he never drank no manner of thing that was writ for a walk he filled his pockets with chalk to write it upon what took his ordinary at a certain whore of an art which most men anywise eminent have esteemed the noblest. This tenebrosity of the daemon light. A pregnancy without joy, to save the city for the hospitality, that was sent to our island, leaving doughballs and rollingpins, followed after him hanging his bulliness in daisychains.

[anthropomorphic-meat]

Gendered Feasts: A Feminist Reflects on Dining in New Orleans

by Heather Schell

Have you ever seen an advertisement for chicken meat that features live chickens vying to be chosen for the slaughterhouse? Some of the chickens brag about how plump and tender they are, while others face the heartbreak of rejection and survival. Remember the 1970s ad campaign in which Charley, an ambitious tuna, strives in vain to get canned? I have always wondered why advertisers would select such a strategy. Who wants to eat talking chickens? Or, for that matter, who wants to eat a tuna fish with a name, or raisins or chili peppers or even bananas that' sing and dance? Animals who are protagonists of their own little stories - whether Chicken Little, the Ugly Duckling, Miss Jemima Puddleduck, or the Purdue chicken - are not animals that I want to eat. I won't go so far :is to claim that food commercials with anthropomorphized animals are responsible for driving me to vegetarianism, but even in my meat-eating youth I found these depictions unsettling.

In the early 1990s I visited New Orleans and was amazed by the city's full-scale campaign to market anthropomorphized food products. It has made me think about the ways in which we invest food with meaning, about our habit ofbelieving that what we eat (and how we eat it) expresses something about the kind of people we are. Food is not only a means of displaying who we are but a substance that can transform us into who we want to be. Of course, this is not literally true, but the belief is meaningful. In this chapter, I explore the symbolic meaning of food. I believe that I have finally figured out what the anthropomorphized chicken means, but my provisional answers are unsettling: these depictions of animals invite us to play out unequal social power relationships through eating. Animated food targets our desire to feel power over others. In the United States, this powerful person has traditionally been a straight, wealthy, white male, but souvenirs are more egalitarian: anyone with enough money to visit New Orleans can buy an image of someone still lower on the social totem pole and enjoy the symbolic thrill of eating it. It is no surprise that almost all images of anthropomorphized food, in New Orleans as well as in the national media, represent creatures with low social status, such as women and ethnic minorities...

One of the souvenirs featured in almost every shop was a series of oversized postcard replicas of turn-of-the-century labels and advertisements for local food products. These labels frequently depicted caricatures of African American servants or slaves, "Aunts" or "Uncles," offering food either directly to us or to a white customer/master figure... Packaging that aims to be up-to-date does not use these offensive figures but, instead, serves up caricatures of anthropomorphized living food. Alligators and crawfish wearing aprons and chefs' hats appear on magnets, caps, mugs, postcards, cookbooks, and aprons, of which the two last mentioned are almost as ubiquitous as T -shirts in the New Orleans tourist stores. A shirt blazoned with a recipe for blackened redfish is illustrated with a picture of the recipe's other ingredients stuffing themselves down the fish's throat, poking the f1sh with forks, with tins of spices on tiny legs running toward the fish to dash themselves against it. Animate, anthropomorphized food is a common trope in U.S. advertising, as the phenomenal success of the Claymation California Raisins illustrates. In fact, including the ultimate white bread Pillsbury Dough Boy, one soon gets the distinct impression that these depictions are also marked by race and gender. Apparently, even among singing lobsters such categories still matter. I return to this point later with the New Orleans crawfish.

In addition to the disturbing implications of conscious food, many of these souvenirs further depict the food as inviting us to eat it, actively participating in its own consumption. An illustration on a soup mix shows the familiar 'gator in a chef's hat, this time immersed in a large cookpot, stirring itself with a spoon. Questions of compulsion and consent can scarcely be formulated when the food is an active participant in its own demise.

As you have probably noticed from my descriptions of the souvenirs, there seems to be some confusion, at least in the world of images, between a cuisine and the people associated with producing it. A Cajun dish becomes a Cajun person; a Cajun person becomes "hot" and "dirty" like a rice dish. I saw little toothpick holders shaped like Mammy figures, fat Creole chefs, and crawfish standing side by side on shelves. These were all clearly produced by the same manufacturer: they were the same size and relied on the same color scheme. The Mammy wears a red dress and white apron; the chef is decked out in a white chef's outfit and hat; the red crawfish sports both a white apron and a chef's hat. This crustacean synthesizes the two racial stereotypes into an anthropomorphized ingredient. Now it can cook itself Most of the animated crawfish on tourist souvenirs wear this creolized outfit...

Experience without danger is precisely what most of the New Orleans tourist souvenirs promise. They encourage the tourist to flirt with danger, buy a kit to make a mojo hand or a voodoo doll, watch a striptease, tour former plantations, walk through swamps, visit crumbling mausoleums and think about Ann Rice's vampire novels (she has fan clubs that meet for group tours there), and consume hot and dirty things. To be a tourist means to be a consumer who becomes infused with New Orleans culture through consuming, both by spending and by eating. There's nothing to feel guilty about here. After all, New Orleans solicits this consumption, it wants tourists to devour it-so badly that it will even cook itself for us. A friend's husband visited a different conference in New Orleans several years later. He attended a gala evening featuring an enormous buffet of local cuisine. There were holes in the serving tables through which protruded the' heads of people decorated to look like food. Each head hawked its particular food, encouraging people to come eat it.

Douglas Adams describes a similar scene in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe...  It seems unlikely that the buffet's creators were trying to do a clever spin on comic British science fiction. Something else is being targeted here: a predatory urge. We tend to think of predation in terms of eating meat, but in speech we mean something more precise. Someone who brings home roadkill would be considered a scavenger, not a predator. Predators, in our mind, are those who prey on live, active· things. Sexual predators prey on living humans; we might call someone who had sex with a corpse a pervert, but not a predator. Let's think of it this way: if we eat things that are dead, or immobile, we are gatherers; if we eat things that are alive and active, we are hunters. We like to think of ourselves as hunters, and we like to think of hunter as a synonym for predator. A cow or a couch potato can eat something that's not moving, but it takes a real man to track down anthropomorphized food. Obviously this is not true, but we often act as though we believe it, just as we believe (even if we disapprove) that someone who has sex with a prostitute is more daring and on the edge than someone who has sex with a long-term companion. No matter that the prostitute would have sex with anyone who could pay, just as vendors will sell us oysters on the half-shell whether we are tough and dashing or feeble and cowardly.

If we again strip the implications of predatory, daring dining or sex to material concerns, there is something to the feeling of bravado. We picture foreign countries and backwoods regions as teeming with various diseases, any of which we might unwittingly take home after ingesting some local flesh. We really want to experience some kind of psychological or spiritual aftermath to these encounters, not to suffer from base side effects such as discharges and diarrhea. Therefore, pursuing such prey is dangerous, even when the prey cooperates. In fact, the easier the prey, the greater the perceived risk of danger. Perhaps this is why encounters with prostitutes do not lower a man's status with his male friends or make them consider him less virile; similarly, a man who eats hot sauce on rare beef is considered quite manly, even if he would probably blanch in horror if required to kill the cow himself. He has shown himself sufficiently tough merely by daring inflamed lips, high cholesterol, and mad cow disease. Hot sauce has replaced hunting as the venue for performing masculinity in this country; being a predator now only requires audacious eating...

Disney's film The Little Mermaid complements the peculiar racial animation of the New Orleans tourist industry. Ariel, the heroine, lives in a world of black Caribbean fish friends who warn her against aspiring to live on land: "When the boss gets hungry," they warn her ominously, "guess who's going to be on the plate?" (Ashman and Menken). In her quest for personal development, she ignores them and heads for land, accompanied by Sebastian, a small crustacean buddy. This mermaid is no predator; we never see her crunching lustily into a whole lobster as does her counterpart in Splash. In fact, Ariel is such a no neater that she persists in using her fork as a comb and hair ornament. Sebastian also is no predator. He barely avoids being killed by the French chef, who chases him around the kitchen with sharp implements while singing about his love of fish-his love of cutting them up and cooking them. This scene is intended to be funny, though I can imagine that it might give some children nightmares. Sebastian escapes the chef only by disguising himself as food, and he fortuitously ends up on Ariel's plate. She laughs to see him there, and he scampers to safety. By implication, though, Ariel's prince might very well be eating Sebastian's relatives. Ariel herself might have. One of the costs of moving a step up in the food chain is the willingness to eat one's former friends. Perhaps we are not directly hurting anyone if we go to New Orleans and indulge ourselves in its high and low culture. However, if we consider ourselves feminists, we need to beware of buying into the pleasures of predatory consumption. Because predatory behavior is associated with masculine power, it might seem liberating to imagine ourselves as wolves, or sexual predators, or even as prey. These pleasurable fantasies of power may seem freeing as well as free, but they come at the cost of encouraging us to see the world in a way that perpetuates exactly the sort of inequitable power relationships that we deplore. It makes the choices involved in our social hierarchies invisible.

Heather Schell, "Gendered Feasts: A Feminist Reflects on Dining in New Orleans", in Sherrie A. Innes, Pilaf, Pozole, and Pad Thai: American Women and Ethnic Food, University of Massachusetts Press, 2001, p.199-221

[raceandspeculation]

Ripley the Hero

Zakary Kelley Dr. Smalls February 21, 2017 English 3690

Ripley the Hero

Ripley, the main protagonist and ultimate savior of the “Alien” franchise is a character the first of her kind. After watching the movies something that became apparent to me early on was the skepticism that is show towards Ripley (especially in the earlier movies), and her ability to not let her gender affect her getting things done despite others. She is second-guessed a fair amount and becomes a nuisance to ulterior motives that exist throughout the movie. For the time period seeing a female character as strong as her is very intriguing and long due. She breaks gender roles while still maintaining her femininity. There are a few key situations in the first two movies of the franchise that signify her as a hero and what she is capable of. In these situations we see; she as a character is the perfect mix of femininity (as seen in her motherly tendencies in the early movies) and being a character that transcends her gender and does not let it hinder her. Her treatment of Jonies and Newt in the first two movies exemplifies her as a women and her character identity. We see indications of how people are quick to second-guess her in both movies and how if people were to listen to Ripley many events could have either gone better or could have been avoided all together. Ripley is a strong female character that exudes femininity but at the same time is the badass hero that we are accustomed to seeing in movies such as these.

          Ripley possesses motherly tendencies throughout the first two films and they’re embodied through Jonsey and Newt. She risks her life for the sake of this cat and little girl and it really shows just who Ripley really is as a women and hero. In Amy Taubin’s essay The Alien Trilogy: From Feminism to Aids the motherly tendencies of Ripley are mentioned,” In terms of Ripley’s character, the trilogy works better when Ripley’s maternal desire develops gradually on screen rather than being realized in the back story. In the first film, she’s the career woman whose nurturing impulses are invested in her cat. In the second, she becomes the adoptive mother of Newt. In the third, having lost Newt, and with her biological clock running out, she discovers she’s pregnant – with an alien.” (Taubin 95) At the end of the day Ripley is a mother not just to her actual daughter (who is dead after Ripley’s rest in the hyperspace) but too these three characters. In the first movie Ripley’s care for her cat Jonsey ends up just being a taste of how strong her motherly tendencies are even though it may be the most revealing. Most people would not risk their lives for their animal in any case. People see their lives more important but not Ripley. She has the strong motherly notion to protect and protect she does. The level of care and selflessness that someone has to have inside of them to save a cat, risking life and limb is unheard of and really it really sets who Ripley is deep down inside. It’s her relationship with Newt in the second film that exposes fully her motherly tendencies. She sees Newt as her daughter and the lengths that she goes to save her throughout the film is breathtaking. From when they are locked in the medical unit with the aliens by Burke, to the very end where Ripley goes head on into the Mother Alien’s den to save Newt.  

These instances show just how motherly Ripley is but also just how strong a female she is. Her character just isn’t some generic cookie-cutter guy who saves the hot damsel in distress, but a strong woman who saves the ones who can’t defend for themselves. One last motherly instance that I feel is overlooked is her ultimate forgiveness of androids, in the first film she is pretty much screwed over by an android and it cost everyone their lives besides her own. She has no reason to ever consider trusting an android again regardless of what model they are or what their success rate is. But ultimately her motherly tendencies kick in and she lets herself trust an android. Instead of endangering her life the android played a major part in the ultimate escape, and even risked his own artificial life so that Ripley could defeat the Alien at the end of the second film. Her being able to forgive and lend trust to the android brings the idea that she is a natural mother full circle. Her motherly tendencies even almost kill her several times it also saves her, she could have tried to take things all on her own and she would have most likely perished for it. Ridley is a first in this genre and this is reinforced in an Article written for TheGuardian.com” by Xan Brooks when it is stated,” Before Ripley, the horror movie was a more ordered place. Here was a happy hunting ground in which young, sexually active women were there to be punished and the abiding image of motherhood was provided by mummified Mrs Bates in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. Alien took a tired landscape and shook it up.” (Xan)  She is a strong feministic hero, with motherly tendencies unseen in heroes in films such as these. Ripley changed the genre, by making female characters in films such as these not just a sexualized joke. She adds seriousness to a genre plagued by masculinity and shows that a woman can also be the hero. Without Ripley who knows how long it would have taken to have a true strong female protagonist, who puts the situation on her shoulders and saves the day.  Ripley is the perfect mix of what it means to be a strong female hero; she retains her motherly tendencies but also shows that not just men can save the day.

Ripley’s ability to get out of danger and fight back is not only impressive and unheard of (for a female character of her time) but fully envelops her into a true hero.  There are a few instances in the first two movies that truly show how strong of a hero she is. The ending sequence of the first movie is in my opinion the finest moment of heroine. Her taking out the alien once and for all cemented her as a true hero and viable adversary for the aliens. Just like any other hero she’s tough and is able to think quickly despite the odds. She has a full hero package and her being a women is just the thing that wraps up her being so transcendent for the role. Her being able to take out a creature like the Alien is a feat in heroic acts. I believe that the alien is so much of a force against the feeble bodies of human beings that her being able to kill multiple is more than impressive. The impact that the alien had was described in an article by Pamela Gibson where it is stated,” This particular alien has an extraordinary fascination for audiences and academy alike. It can be understood as “monster from the Id,” manifestation of sexual terrors, reflection of xenophobic fears, or as this essay suggest, all of these and more, tied to the structures of power- the monstrous.”(Gibson 37) The alien is serious in the eyes of the viewer and seeing a woman such as Ripley slay several aliens is groundbreaking. The alien being such a dangerous threat makes her that much braver and stronger, not just to herself but to the viewer as well. Her actions in the second film only fuel the idea that Ripley is a true hero and not someone to be taken lightly. There are two instances that stand out the most in the second film. The first is the whole sequence of losing Newt and Ripley ultimately saving her. Her reaction to losing Newt again displays her motherly tendencies but shows her true hero. Fighting all the way through hell and back to save Newt, Ripley again is able to take out several aliens making her have an ultimate hero’s presence. The second scene is discussed by Taubin in her article and I do not agree with the statements that she makes about said scene.” However thrilling the entrance of Ripley in the power loader (she’s transformed into a cyborg), the image is immediately tarnished by the obviousness of her line, ‘Get away from her, you bitch’, addressed to the alien who’s about to do something terrible to the cowering Newt.”(Taubin 95) I believe that her saying the line fits the story and her character perfectly. It has already been established that she already views Newt as her daughter now and her saying that line furthers that notion. She is a female hero with all the traits of being tough and brave, but her being a woman lends to her being motherly even in the direst of situations. Her character needed a line like this and I do not see how anything was tarnished.

Ripley is a perfect concoction for a female hero; her ability to face the odds head on, too her strong motherly nature, she is what a female hero should be. Sigourney Weaver portrayed a strong female character that didn’t let her gender decide her placement in the movies.

Word Count: 1669

Works Cited:

Taubin, Amy. “The Alien Trilogy: From Feminism to AIDS.” Women and Film: A Sight and Sound Reader. Edited by Pam Cook and Philip Dodd, Temple University Press, 1993, 93-100. (e-reserve) 18 Feb. 2017.

Gibson, Pamela C. “‘You’ve Been in My Life So Long I Can’t Remember Anything Else’: Into the Labyrinth with Ripley and the Alien.” Keyframes: Popular Cinema and Cultural Studies. Edited by Matthew Tinkcom and Amy Villarejo, Routledge, 2001, 35-51 (e-reserve). 18 Feb. 2017.

Brooks, Xan “ The first action heroine” https://www.theguardian.com/film/2009/oct/13/ridley-scott-alien-ripley, 2009, October 12