#tales from low income housing

[chryza]

How to make money in this godforsaken anime game because I promise it’s not hard

Tips for everyone:

Universalis is free and not against TOS because it’s a website. Use this to easily see what things are selling on your world.

You should be sending your retainers out on ventures as often as you can. Send them out on explorations to get stuff to trade in for GC seals that can be used to purchase items from the quartermaster that sell well on the Marketboard as well as More Ventures. Or just send them out directly to get stuff.

Wondrous Tales has a decent payout on top of the exp boost. It’s not a lot but it’s free. Make sure you’re saving your Gil bags tho for>>

Doman Restoration in the Doman Enclave, at max level, will net you 30k gil per week. It’s not a lot but it takes five minutes a week. Use the gil bags to easily fill out your donation basket and don’t worry about canon.

Leve quests don’t pay a LOT comparatively but they are a reliable source of income for any job.

Do ur hunts. Not because this will make you gil. But because this will save you gil. Literally just slay the elite mark that week for a couple expansions, and spend your hunt tokens on aetheryte tickets. Never spend 2000 gil teleporting from Sharlayan to Radz-At-Han again.

If you like running instanced content:

Adventurer in need bonuses are not one time only. They persist even after your daily reward has been claimed

Roll on everything. Turn that into your grand company for seals. Use seals to purchase items. Sell these items. Ta-Da

Same thing for tomestones. Go buy shit from the vendors in the small cities with your poetics, and current tomestone mats will always sell well

If you like rping

Get a job. I’m serious. Clubs are always hiring wait staff and backend folks (no ERP required). I’m sure people who are in this scene know more about it than me.

ERP pays well my guy

If you like crafting/gathering

It doesn’t matter what level you’re at. Go to your crafting log. On the left hand side is three tabs marked with a stair, a bag with a star, and a book. Click into the bag menu. Scroll down to housing. Look what you can craft. See what’s selling. Purchase what materials you don’t have so long as you make a profit. Congrats.

Send your retainers out to gather items for housing crafts. Or just the mats directly and sell those. Do a little research into what free companies use for things like airship and submersible voyages/components and farm that

If you are maxed out, remember HARM—Housing, Aethersand, Raiding supplies, intermediate Materials. It can be difficult to sell gear because of market saturation, but the materials to make gear are always in high demand, especially those tricky intermediate crafts. Selling raid food and tinctures is easy money.

Diadem. Skybuilder mats sell well. Like. REALLY well. And you can hop into the diadem with a really low level. Have fun.

Speaking of the firmament, your skybuilder scrips are basically worth a fortune. Almost everything you can exchange for skybuilders scrips sells super well on the market.

Do your custom deliveries. It really doesn’t take long. Do whatever you want with the scrips. Materia always sells well.

The end

[plutopitou]

The phantom

synopsis: reader has ability/quirk to travel to a state of limbo where the deceased reside. Mention of death, sad angst, like actually

Song: Let the light in - Lana Del Rey

I was crying like a baby writing this which has never happened to me before, still loved it sm

His once calloused hand brushes past the crown of your head pushing back loose strays, focusing on the perfect structure of your features. He wanted a better look at just how beautiful you’ve gotten.

You grasp his large palm in yours, dragging to hold his wrist softly, “I missed you a lot recently..”

You felt the heat of his gaze scatter around your face, exhaling deeply from his nose; you knew he was deep in thought, it made your throat swell in sorrow. “You know what I said last time.” His voice was edging close to stern.

Your gaze narrows down at the polished floor, “Well I don’t know, I guess I couldn’t help myself this time.” Whispered from your lips.

Everything in the home was just as it was the last time you were here. The books along the shelf were untouched, the curtains the same color with the same creases, the counter dust-free- everything still remained dust-free.

“I haven’t been thinking straight lately. Himori’s been trying to force me out the house to do stuff like go for walks, cafe’s, see a movie..”

“Well it sounds like fun, y’know she’s just trying her hardest. The best you can do is try to enjoy it, sweetheart.” He assured softly.

Why did it feel like life was taunting you.

It was quiet.

Outside were birds singing its famous song, banding with the cicadas and wisps of the wind blowing past the limp branches of the weeped willow trees. It was picture perfect, the shade of blue sky with no rain in sight- just floating, pillowed clouds slow dancing around the air above you with no end in sight.

His aura near you felt warm and present.

Hot tears brimmed your lower lashes, your chest felt tight with a suffering ache trying to crawl its way out your stomach, stuck in your throat.

“I can’t enjoy it.” Your voice failed, words trembling out as your eyes meet his. “And you fucking know that.” You forced out in a choked sob.

His soul just didn’t know what to do.

He watches as what looked like months of built up resentment towards him sets free in this state of limbo he continues to wander in. You shouldn’t be back, yet he couldn’t blame you, either.

Your head fell low in your lap, shaking with grief and all he wanted to do was fall to his knees and say everything between you two was going to be alright.

He knew all you wanted to hear him say was he was not going anywhere.

But it wasn’t true.

He wanted you out of this phantom tale you weren’t supposed to be in and live your own life the way it was meant to be.

Both your attention turns to the rumbling in the far distance. The weather outside becomes grayer, the fluffy clouds swell in darkness, the trees swaying trying to brace itself for the incoming storm.

He faces you, his warm embrace wrapping around you like a childhood blanket.

It felt like time paused in a place there was no time. Your tears were swiped away by his thumb, palms grasping your cheeks in a desire no one could take away.

“I lived my life just to see you happy, you know that right?” He asks with attentiveness. You quickly nod holding back more tears. Your faces were a mere inch apart. Your eyes fluttered shut and felt yourself give and lean closer to him.

But he holds you still.

He grasps your palm holding it on your beating heart.

You both knew your presence was a disruption here. But fate is not something to be discriminatory, it was also cruel. And the emptiness you both felt knew that first hand.

“Don’t live your life for me anymore.” Your heart burns, letting your head fall on his shoulder to soak his shirt. “You can’t let this hold back from the life you should have. Nothing can take away what I remember, sweetheart. And you’re not someone I can forget.” He whispers.

The distraught in his voice was telling. He was holding it together by a thread, yet still he knew if he gave into what he wanted most, you’d continue to suffer in a rewritten timeline.

“I can’t forget you either.”

The sky grew darker.

Selfishly, he leaned to kiss your tear away, lips lingering on the side of your cheek like a phantom.

“Please. Don’t come back.” He murmured.

Your hand was left empty. The heat of his hold still lingering as you watch him walk out the door.

Your feet followed without telling them to, racing out the door behind him. The surroundings phased as you found yourself outside on the balcony of your shared apartment.

The wind chill blows past your hair as you walk back inside. Your framed photo together still lays on the desk, a thin layer of dust resting patiently. It’s only a memory.

You wipe it away and set it down, dust-free.

Wiping the last stray tear yourself, you walk out to find Himori.

BNHA: Keigo, Bakugou, Aizawa

JJK: Geto, Gojo,

Part 2 prequel possible with a poll on which character i should base it on for a stronger plotline, stay tuned :/

Please follow, like and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡��ʔ༄

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

New Rule: Whoa, Canada | Real Time with Bill Maher

And finally, New Rule. If we want to save our country, we should follow the advice good liberals have given for decades and learn from other countries.

Especially those beacons of progressivism like Canada, England, and Scandinavia, and I agree we should, as long as we're honest about the lessons we're learning. And as long as we're up to date on the current data. Such as, the unemployment rate in the US is 3.8 percent. And in Canada, it's 6.1. And of the 15 North American cities with the worst air pollution, 14 are in Canada.

I'm not citing these stats because I have it out for Canada. I love Canada, and its people, and always have, but I hate zombie lies. Zombie lies. That's when things change but what people say about them doesn't. Yes, for decades, places like Vancouver, and Amsterdam, and Stockholm seemed idyllic, because everything was free and all the energy we needed was produced by riding a bike to your job at the windmill. Canada was where all the treasured goals of liberalism worked perfectly. It was like NPR come to life but with poutine.

Canada was the Statue of Liberty with a low-maintenance haircut and cross-country skis. A giant idealized blue state with single-payer health care, gun control, and abortion on polite demand. Canada was where every woke White college kid, wearing pajama pants outdoors who'd had it up to here with America's racist patriarchy, dreamt of living someday. I mean, besides Gaza.

There's only one problem with thinking everything's better in Canada. It's not. Not anymore anyway. Last year, Canada added 1.3 million people, which is a lot in one year. The equivalent of the US adding 11 million migrants in one year. And now, they are experiencing a housing crisis even worse than ours. And we're sleeping in tents. The median price of a home here is 346 grand, in Canada, converted to US dollars, it's 487. If Barbie moved to Winnipeg, she wouldn't be able to afford her dream house and Ken would be working at Tim Hortons. And because of mortgage debt, Canada has the highest debt to GDP ratio of any G7 nation. I don't know what that means, but it sounds bad.

So does their vaunted health care system, which ranks dead last among high income countries in access to primary health care and ability to see a doctor in a day or two. And it's not for lack of spending. Of the 30 countries with universal coverage, Canada spends over 13 percent of its economy on it, which is a lot of money for free health care.

Look, I'm not saying Canada still isn't a great country. It is, but those aren't paradise numbers. If Canada was an apartment, the lead feature might be "America adjacent." And if America was a rental car, Canada would be "America or similar."

And again, honestly, Canada, I'm not saying any of this 'cause I enjoy it. I don't, 'cause I've always enjoyed you. But I need to cite you as a cautionary tale to help my country. And the moral of that tale is, "Yes, you can move too far left." And when you do, you wind up pushing the people in the middle to the right. At its worst, Canada is what American voters think happens when there's no one putting a check on extreme wokeness.

Like the saga of Canadian shop teacher, Kayla Lemieux, whose pronouns are she/her and those. Kayla is now back to being a guy named Kerry, but two years ago when "they" showed up to teach children, the progressive high school "they" taught at said that they-- They, the school, not the person. Really? You couldn't have found another word? We were using that one. Anyway, okay. They were committed to a safe environment for gender expression. Safe for who? What about the children? What about the equipment in that shop class?

You know, there was once a weirdo D-list movie producer in the '60s named Russ Meyer who made low-budget B movies like Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! And Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Always featuring women who look like this. His movies played in porn houses and were featured in Hustler and Playboy. Okay, fine, but who says, "No, when it comes to huge, ridiculous tits, let's save that for the kids."

And this is why people vote for Trump. They say in politics, liberals are the gas pedal and conservatives are the brakes, and I'm generally with the gas pedal, but not if we're driving off a cliff.

On the trans issue, America is no ands, ifs, or buts about it, absolutely alone in the world now. An outlier country. Last month, England's National Health Service announced that there's "not enough evidence to support the safety or clinical effectiveness" of puberty blockers for third graders, and that they were going to stop fumbling around with children's privates, because that's Prince Andrew's job.

So too with all the other good place countries in direct opposition to America's choice to affirm children's wishes on switching gender, no matter the age or psychiatric history. The Far Left, which always like to use, "Well, Europe does it." Yeah, no, that doesn't work on this one anymore.

Or on immigration. Sweden opened its borders to over a million and a half immigrants since 2010. And now 20 percent of its citizens are foreign-born and its education system is tanking, and it has Europe's highest rate of gangland killings. And one result is that the far-right parties are in the government now there for the first time.

To which liberals say, "Blaming immigrants for the rising crime rate is racist." Yeah, but is it true? Of course, it's true. It's not a coincidence. The quality of life went down after the Somali gangs started a drug turf war using hand grenades.

Calling it "racist" doesn't solve the problem. It hands future elections to someone who will solve the problem, and who, I promise, you're not going to like.

==

For the record, I've said literally all of this, including making the comparison of flying off a cliff if you rely entirely on the gas pedal. Just saying.

When Trump takes office again, and he will, people will act stunned and ask, "how could this have ever happened?"

[cliozaur]

This one is really long, so I’ll start with the best part — the most stylish and iconic entrance: “'Would you like my hat?'…/All wheeled round. It was Javert.” This cop does indeed possess a sense of humour! And Javert’s entrance is intertwined with a series of coincidences. In fact, the entire book is teeming with coincidences, it sometimes feels as though Hugo is abusing them, yet this is an integral element of his writing style. Through sheer happenstance, Éponine scribbled "The bobbies are here" to showcase her writing prowess, by a mere stroke of luck, Marius in his stunned state recollected this piece of paper, and through yet another twist of fate, the police happened to arrive just minutes later without even being summoned! I adore the way the genre of the Gorbeau house scene transitions from horror to melodrama (with Marius' moral struggles), then to farce (with the bandits' chaotic antics and poor planning), and finally to comedy with Javert's entrance.

The bandits don't exactly shine in this chapter! While they initially appeared menacing upon their arrival (and there are three more in this chapter) this aura quickly dissipates as they start to act. Their actions are too chaotic, too disorganized, too unprepared for the challenges posed by Valjean’s courage and strength. A trio from the Patron-Minette quartet joins the fray, all brandishing (symbolic?) weapons. I am somewhat taken aback with Claquesous’ “enormous key stolen from the door of some prison.” Wow! Just wow! (on one of the illustrations - at the end of this post - it's grotesquely enormous) They lost Montparnasse along the way (he preferred the company of Éponine over joining the group of idiots assembled at the Gorbeau hovel). Their willingness to accept Thénardier as their leader and trust him with all the planning suggests that indeed, it’s a low season for crime and they are desperate.

Thénardier never shuts up in this chapter, he rants and rants. I was utterly outraged when he spoke of Cosette as a lost source of income. Well, he mentioned believing that she “belonged to rich people” and that he “might have extracted enough to live on all my life!” However, given that Cosette did not, in fact, belong to rich people, and considering how he used his own daughters for soliciting out, we can only imagine HOW he might have used Cosette to extract income from her. What a terrible alternative! Yet, he is once again telling some reasonable things about the plight of the poor, such as: “We, it is we who are thermometers. We don’t need to go out and look on the quay at the corner of the Tour de l’Horologe, to find out the number of degrees of cold; we feel our blood congealing in our veins, and the ice forming round our hearts, and we say: ‘There is no God!’”

I'm not inclined to delve into Marius' hesitations and quasi-moral dilemma at this moment. Despite my sympathies toward him, he did come across as rather insufferable here. But I like the fact that he was proud of Jean Valjean. Nonetheless, his contribution was rather minimal, with the sole positive action being the toss of Éponine's note into the neighbour’s room.

Valjean is truly amazing here. He is calm, unperturbed, inventive, and displays remarkable sangfroid. A real icon of stoicism. And I have a feeling that his shocking act of burning his right hand with the red-hot chisel is a clear allusion to the legend of Scaevola, a tale of significance to certain stoics. The emphasis Hugo places on Valjean gripping the chisel in his left hand assures me that my assumption is not unfounded. And I so much wish Hugo had afforded us even a fleeting glimpse into Valjean’s mind during this juncture! While we are privy to every trifling notion crossing Marius' thoughts, at this pivotal juncture in the narrative, we remain largely ignorant of Valjean's inner musings. It’s such a pity. But, at the same time, it makes him so mysterious.

Claquesous' enormous key:

[202204985caic2324]

Hungry for the Holidays: Christmas reality isn’t always fitting of a Hallmark storyline.

Hallmark movies are known for being ‘gentle affairs’ that aim to give people a sense of nostalgia and some ‘harmless entertainment’ but in actual fact they often depict very traditional, conservative ideas of family and romance and are always apolitical. 

These stories are primarily centred around white characters and often include women leaving their independent, career focused lives in favour of a rural life with their male love interest. There is always a happy ending and even if many of the storylines may seem a little far fetched these films are hugely popular. 

For many children this year the reality of Christmas is quite different with 12.8% of US households facing food insecurity and 1 in 5 children (13 million) not knowing where their next meal is coming from. This food insecurity and living in poverty overwhelmingly affects children of colour with 1 in 7 children of colour living in poverty. 

This time of year is hugely stressful for low-income families with the average American spending around $1000 on Christmas each year. For many this just isn’t an option as bills still need to be paid and there isn’t any money for extras- this pressure exists all year round but is far more intense around the holidays which often centre around food and gift-giving. 

When an AI bot was shown 1000 hours of Hallmark movies it created its own screenplay about a heartwarming tale of a widowed single mother who worked for a small-town globe company but the reality for a lot of single parent families living in rural towns is a lack of job opportunities, limited transportation and high poverty rates- around 46% of families with a single mother live in poverty. 

Jill Biden may have been inspired by ‘childlike marvel and awe’ for this year's White House decorations but as the year comes to an end and federal relief programs covering healthcare, food assistance, housing and childcare expire many children won’t feel much ‘Magic, Wonder and Joy’ as their families continue to struggle. 

[gibelwho]

Horror #1a: Night of the Living Dead

It is not often that a film, especially a low-budget flick with guerilla-style filmmaking tactics, kicks off an entire new sub-genre - but Night of the Living Dead (1968), directed by George Romero, is now considered a touchstone in the horror genre as the first zombie movie. The slow-moving, yet terrifying, ghouls threaten a group of people seeking shelter in a remote farmhouse and the story focuses just as much on the interpersonal conflicts as on the villains growing in numbers and strength on the outside. Incredibly progressive in its diverse casting, the film not only launched Romero’s career, spawned a long-lasting franchise, but also inspired untold numbers of zombie cinematic tales. The first film in our Horror Marathon is a bit of homework before the official kick-off - dipping a toe into the genre with the first zombie movie!

Siblings Johnny and Barbara (Judith O’Dea) drive to a cemetery to visit their deceased father’s grave, only to be attacked by a slow-moving, yet dangerous, undead creature. Johnny perishes, but Barbara escapes by running away and seeks shelter in a seemingly abandoned farmhouse. She is soon joined by Ben (Duane Jones), who secures the house as more of the ghouls make their way toward their sanctuary. They soon discover more people in the farmhouse’s cellar - a young couple and a family of three, a father Harry (Karl Hardman), mother (Marilyn Eastman), and daughter - who has been unfortunately bitten by one of the creatures. The newly formed group desperately tries to gather more information via radio and television reports. A plan to obtain gas for the farmhouse car goes awry, killing the young couple who volunteered for the risky mission. The ghouls use this opportunity to attack the farmhouse and fear of the undead leads to turmoil amongst the surviving humans. A conflict between Ben and Harry leads to the father’s death. Barbara is taken by her brother's revived ghoul body, and the daughter dies from her wounds. She reanimates, eats her father’s flesh, and kills her mother - all before attacking Ben who is seeking his shelter in the cellar as a final stand. He fends her off by shooting the girl down and survives the night in the cellar. As he miraculously awakens in the morning, Ben emerges from the farmhouse and meets an armed posse sent to destroy the ghouls; mistaking him for a deadly creature, they shoot him down and burn his body.

Establishing the tone via the setting is key to any horror movie - and Night of the Living Dead checks all the creepy boxes. The first scene is literally set at a cemetery, giving the ghouls a natural place to stage their attack. The abandoned farmhouse, which is the central location of the film, is an ideal setting for the horror genre. It not only provides ample devices to stage their last stand, as they tear the place apart to set up barricades to block their foes, but also becomes a central conflict amongst the characters; they spend a majority of the film arguing about whether to lock themselves up in the cellar or take their chances in the main house. The remote location leaves the characters on their own to either find a way to work together or face the (slowly) incoming danger separately. Their division leaves the majority of the party deceased, while only Ben survives in the cellar, a plan he was initially vehemently opposed to as a complete dead end. Desperation drives him to the last ditch solution and, ironically, it is emerging from the farmhouse sanctuary that eventually kills him as the final member of the doomed party. 

The characterizations of that doomed party are both progressive and frustratingly pedantic at the same time. While the script was not written with a black lead in mind, Romero cast the best actor to audition for the hero role, a controversial move in the late 1960s. Jones is by far the best actor of the bunch (more on that later), and his casting naturally infuses the script with far more subtext for the intra-human conflicts. His decision to stay on the main floor and take leadership of the group there, standing up strongly to Harry, who thinks the cellar is the better move, must be viewed through the lens of the racial politics of the 1960s - a young black man asserting his power over a feckless white male. In a similar vein, Ben takes care of the simpering Barbara, but their relationship isn’t entirely smooth either. At one point, they get into a physical altercation and Ben slaps her, leading her to faint, and he moves her body to the couch to recover. Although Ben ultimately is protecting her, the images of a black man hitting a hysterical white woman must have been shocking to audiences of the time. Finally, the brutal act of law enforcement shooting down a defenseless black man, applying force that leads to his death, is an image that is evocative both in the historical context of the 1960s Civil Rights movement as well as resounding today.

While the racial portrayal is complicated, the women in Night of the Living Dead are disappointingly inept. Perhaps additionally hampered by their poor acting abilities, the script draws the various women as overwhelmed and helpless in the world’s darkening circumstances. Barbara in particular, although dealing with the trauma of losing her brother and being attacked by the ghouls, just cannot pull it together to deal with the crisis. She consistently vacillates between catatonic states and hysterics and can only rely on Ben to protect her. The woman in the young couple shows some grit to go on the gasoline mission, but the actor is so terrible that she is hard to watch in the film. In the same vein, the mother of the family basically lets herself get taken by the zombies - she doesn’t even put up much of a fight for her life when they are breaking into the house, nor when her undead daughter comes to eat her flesh. For all of us women out there, put up a bit more of a fight, please!

The fight these characters are up against is the monster of this horror film - the zombie (although they are only ever referred to in the movie as ghouls). The villain appears almost innocently at the start of the film, slowly shuffling towards our unsuspecting siblings, an undead in a business suit whose speed slightly increases as he chases Barabara through the countryside. He appears as mostly human, with very little movie makeup to indicate his ghoul nature, but the opening sequence already sets up the danger they present, especially as Johnny is taken down right away. As the farmhouse becomes the sanctuary to our band of humans, the undead are drawn to the sniff of life and their numbers grow in volume; an assemblage of various undead humans shuffle their way towards their potential victims. Romero composes an incredible shot of one zombie stumbling back from the camera and revealing numerous more zombies stalking forward, crystalizing the growing threat. 

As the film’s action centers more on clashes with the ghouls, the camera focuses closely on the grisly flesh, but, understandable for a low budget film, the movie makeup and special effects have inconsistent visual results. During a sequence of the monsters attempting to storm the house, zombie hands are reaching in through the barricade and the young man in the couple is wielding a knife for defense; he hacks away at a hand that is obviously fake, easily removing fingers in a smooth swipe that features no blood nor bones nor reality - even he seems surprised that it was so easy to cut. In just the next few shots, however, Ben shoots a zombie and the gunshot wound with smattering blood is incredibly realistic and creepy. As fire is a natural enemy of zombies, the team of humans use it as a defensive weapon, and the special effects crew feature a shot of a stuntman on fire. Romero also focuses the camera several times on zombies attacking and consuming the flesh of humans, crafting creepy close-up images of humans as a meal for monsters, culminating in the sequence of the daughter hacking her mother to death and feasting on her father. The images here are the most explicit of the film, using shadow work to feature the weapon and blood spurting and dripping as her death screams wail. As a low-budget film, Romero must have had to choose where to spend his budget for ramping up the terrors of the monster and for the most part, the dread that is generated from their efforts is well-earned.

Night of the Living Dead’s place in horror history is notable for creating a new zombie sub-genre, but it also exists within the arc of horror’s cinematic evolution, as detailed in the Horror Marathon’s overview. [link to my first blog post] In a post-Psycho world, Romero’s zombie apocalypse fits in narratively with the evolution of the horror genre’s storytelling. Rather than an external monster that terrorizes humans, the ghouls are humanity themselves, re-animated and eager to cannibalize their fellow beings. Even within the farmhouse sanctuary, conflict emerges and sets the groups of people against each other, showing their monsters within despite the evil lurking outside. Social institutions that are meant to protect and serve, such as the policemen who are hunting the ghouls across the countryside, become villainous - killing Ben by mistaking him for a monster, rather than the lone survivor of a violent siege. Although unintentional, society’s institutions deliver the final killing blow. These themes continue to be explored in the explosion of zombie movies that spawned from this initial film, including some cultural touchstones that will be viewed during this Horror Marathon!

Night of the Living Dead has some rough edges as an output of low-budget independent filmmaking, but its ambitious ideas and unique monsters make it a great first introduction to the horror genre. The uneven acting was sometimes a distraction, but the progressive casting of an African-American hero was brave for its times (and helps that Duane Jones was the best performer in the cast), infusing the film with societal commentary that was more reflective of the anxieties within the United States in the late 1960s. While the ghouls are a bit slow and feel less threatening than modern zombie films, the focus on the daughter in the climax emphasized the real danger these monsters posed to humanity. Unfortunately, the mother - and most of the other women in this film - don’t fight back with any actual effort, which was a disappointment. The film’s ultimate conclusion, that even after defying the odds and surviving a night in the farmhouse surrounded by the walking dead, the main hero is cut down by the very humans and social institutions attempting to solve the crisis, shows a pessimistic worldview that aligns with the social and racial anxiety of the 1960s. The next stop on our marathon is the sequel to this film, Dawn of the Dead (1978), which comes a full ten years after the initial movie; slightly excited, but mostly scared to see how Romero ratchets up the stakes, intensifies the danger of the monsters, and continues the horror.

[mariska]

hello tumblr friends who live in my phone i just wanted to pop in real quick and let everyone know that I Am (somehow) Still Alive since i mentioned being very sick last month and did not want anyone 2 think i had finally Expired. wish i could say i'm doing better this month but while im definitely nowhere near as miserable as i was in April, i've been spending this month trying to deal with Sickness Aftershocks that have been making all of my long term autoimmune diseases/health issues in general flare up randomly really bad at pretty much completely random times and i also have a whole new fun set of similar feeling but definitely different and 100x worse physical health problems and its been extremely difficult to try and power through all of it like i'm used to doing for the 26 years i have been alive 😔 but i'm still hangin in there. idk how at this point lmao. subconscious fight or flight survival mode i guess. i'm like 99% sure i somehow caught one of the new covid mutations in April unfortunately despite the lifelong Agoraphobia and 3+ years of effort i've done to do literally everything in my ability to stay protected against it but. thats life i guess, u leave the house one or two times masked up hand sanitizer ready to go sweating from being overheated wearing clothes that cover as much of ur skin as u can stand and other people just Dont. so. i knew it would probably happen to me eventually i just was really hoping it would not! but. i will continue surviving as best i can because i dont have any other option or choice. but that is why i've unintentionally been distant here and online in general. it was already extremely difficult getting myself out of bed and taling showers and changing clothes and brushing my teeth and remembering to eat food and drink water before but now its reached a difficulty that i literally can't have any control over most of the time and its a lot of physical/mental/emotional effort to even tap reblog on a post online or respond to a text more so than it was previously. which again was already. very difficult to power through.

anyways! uh! yeah. life update i guess. i hope you guys are genuinely doing much better than i am this year and i hope you're all able to stay safe and as relatively healthy as you can. and please please please please at the very least wear some form of a face mask in public even if you're outside and not in a tiny building. i dont say that to shame anyone here i just feel like there are a lot of well meaning good people who arent fully aware that in the US at least the pandemic is very much not over and people like myself are suffering and dying because of that and we cant be the only group of people that are still doing our best to stay protected when we have to leave the house. if you're able to get some i highly recommend N95 type face masks because supposedly they offer one of the best chances of protection as long as you're wearing it correctly and it fits your face well; there's a really great non-profit organization called Project N95 that has an official website and a huge list of various face masks in a bunch of different sizes and types to order if you don't know where to find some high quality ones and they also have a form you can fill out and submit to request an order of free masks if you can't afford to buy them; their money donation pool goes towards providing masks (and some air purifiers i think?) to low income people/organizations/work places that doesn't have the funds or resources to constantly buy expensive batches of masks and their website is super detailed and well organized and has a long list of visual and written resources and information about different mask types, ways you can help keep yourself/your community safe, etc. so i highly recommend them if you are like me and are very stressed and anxious and confused about all of that information all the time. their site should be the at the top of the search results if you google N95 Project, it has a dot org site url so thats another way you can tell its the official site.

[tomwambsmilk]

What do you consider to be truly middle class in 2023? What are the tell tale signs someone is middle class these days? I feel like the U.S. is slowly picking up on the fact that class is not so much about your income but it's more based on your background, your social and cultural capital etc. Maybe you disagree so I would love to hear your thoughts on this. What is your take?

Once again using a TL;DR because this is a huge topic and I've tried to zero in on what you're interested in, but it's still a bit long. So the TL;DR is: there are many factors that go into class which are interrelated but not deterministically dependent; however, economic status is probably the most consistent and significant manifestation of class. The idea of 'middle-class' is defined entirely in relation to the upper and lower class, and the specific class signifiers you're focussing on will change the definition of who is in 'middle-class' in the first place, so it's not really a consistent group of people, and you could argue that 'middle class' is something that doesn't even really exist outside of the arbitrary categorizations economists and social scientists and politicians and marxists use to try and understand the economic landscape. In the context of TV history? I'm just focussing on disposable income, because that's what the TV networks were focussed on, but there's a whole discussion to be had about what other characteristics were common (and are common) among people with disposable income. If we're not talking about TV, I would say (and this is literally just me, this is Brenna's Theory of Economics and Class Status in 2023 this is just some bullshit I came up with and I know nothing) I would say the biggest determinant of class status is your ability to buy a house.

The long answer:

Well, the cop-out answer is that it depends entirely on the context in which you're talking about class.

The trouble with class as a concept is that it's used to cover an incredibly broad range of societal structures throughout history that have all looked different in practice. It's relatively self-evident that most human societies have organized themselves into strata of more privileged and less privileged people; however, the categorization criteria for those strata vary widely depending on the society.

That said, there has always been a really strong link between wealth and class. Upper-class people are usually wealthier, lower-class people are not. That's because we live in an economic system, and the primary way privilege (and its absence) manifests is economic. There are other forms and manifestations of privilege, but the economic component is so powerful that someone of a marginalized community with enough wealth to be considered 'upper-class' won't experience the same degree of marginalization that a low-income person would (although they will still be somewhat alienated from the rest of the upper class). Likewise, someone who would normally benefit from our societal structure based on things like background, race, gender, etc will find themselves cut off from many of those privileges once they reach a certain level of financial hardship.

(Btw this is actually one of the most common objections people will have to the concept of 'white privilege', at least in my experience. Part of this is based on a misunderstanding of what's meant by the term. But part of it is that, while a low-income white person still experiences certain forms of white privilege, many forms of white privilege are tied up with wealth and access to it - things like living in better neighbourhoods and having 'better' social networks which lead to better long-term financial prospects, etc. So low-income white people aren't actually experiencing the full benefits of white privilege, which is why many of them deny it even exists. In their minds, if white privilege was real, they wouldn't have to live like this.)

We can debate whether you're wealthy because of your class, or whether your class makes you wealthy, but it's truly a chicken-and-egg situation, imo. Regardless of which came first, there's a strong enough correlation that I think it is useful to treat economic status as a primary determiner of class, and then examine other things, like social and cultural capital, within that economic context. That being said, I do think how you're defining class is deeply dependent on what specifically you're talking about. For instance, if you're talking about the flow of wealth under capitalism, it's useful to define class based on a person's relationship to the means of production, rather than income. But the trouble with that is you're lumping together minimum wage retail workers in with doctors and lawyers making 6-figures as 'working class', and you're lumping struggling mom-and-pop business owners in with multibillionaires in 'owning class'. So once you start talking about economic power, and how those classes actually move and operate in the world, you have to redefine them to take into account those differing levels of wealth.

That's part of the difficulty with talking about the term 'middle class'. There is no consistent historical definition of what constitutes 'middle class'. 'Upper class' has always meant the wealthy, 'lower class' has always meant the poor. Those are relatively easy to define. 'Middle-class' has always been a term used to describe people who are somewhere in between, who can't properly be classified into one or the other, so its definition changes depending on how the upper and lower classes are being defined, which depends on historical context and who's using the term and why they're using it in the first place. So there's some discrepancy between how, say, Marx and Engels used it and how statisticians, economists, and government officials have used it in the last hundred years. (And that's the other thing - unlike upper and lower class, middle class as a concept is a relatively new invention.)

To circle all the way back around to your question, anon, of what characteristics make someone 'middle-class' in 2023... It would depend on the context in which we're talking. In my post about the relationship between TV history and its middle-class white target market, 'middle-class' just meant anyone with the disposable income to pay for an HBO subscription. But the nature of the economic landscape in the second half of the 20th century means this also very much meant things like: people with postsecondary degrees, people with professional qualifications (like doctors or lawyers), people who owned houses and worked in relatively secure office jobs, people whose kids didn't go to public school. That's because most of the people who had the kind of disposable income to pay for an HBO subscription also had at least one of those characteristics. That's why The Sopranos, which digs into the gradual degradation of Tony's upper-middle-class lifestyle, resonated with people who themselves had been living middle-class lifestyles they could no longer afford. And that's why The Wire's portrayal of inner-city neighbourhoods, and gang life, and even its portrayal of (mostly white) dockworkers struggling as their industry shrunk and there was less work to go around, simply did not.

If you really want a much more general definition of middle-class in 2023, not tied to any specific discussion, I would probably define it around home ownership. Which might sound silly, but I think the question of whether you can afford a home (and how) is indicative of a whole other mess of questions around lifestyle, income, background, education, location, race, etc that together become characteristics of a class. I think that if you can't buy a house in your area which is considered 'average', you're lower-class. This includes being able to save up the down payment and being approved by a bank for a mortgage. (This is not the same as being able to pay a hypothetical mortgage, because more than that is involved in a bank's decision to give you a mortgage, and many of those factors do signify or contribute to class status). If you are able to buy an average home, but you would need to finance it through a mortgage, you're middle-class. And if you could buy an average home straight-up, no mortgage, either with cash or by liquidating investments, you're upper-class.

Now obviously there are going to be exceptions to this, but I think that because there are so many factors which go into someone's ability to buy a house - it's not as simple as "if you make [x] you're good" - it manages to be a really good indicator of someone's overall societal status. (This has not always been the case though - looking at you, run-up to the 2008 financial crisis). It's not perfect! But there is no one-size-all definition of middle-class, so I think this is as good a place as any to start.

[genericpuff]

Very personal response, as someone who was right in that middle grey area of Millennial and Gen Z, I can attest to the loss of rewatch value for movies, and even shows and games, as a consequence of streaming services. I'm old enough to remember growing up with landline phones and VHS tapes and DVDs and home videos, but also young enough that I was still in middle school when the iPhone first released. I distinctly remember my big brother buying me a copy of The Wind Waker on Gamecube when I was like 7 years old (still one of my favorite memories, love you big bro) but also remember being 13-14 and getting the pants scared off me watching the first few episodes of Marble Hornets at my best friend's house on a much smaller version of Youtube, before the days of content creators, social media influencers, and Raid: Shadow Legends sponsorships. I remember learning how to draw from books like How to Draw Pokemon and How to Draw Disney Princesses that I got at school book fairs and book orders, but also from anime bases and tutorials on DeviantArt and RateMyDrawings.

And I can confidently say that the replay value of films and movies and games and entertainment media in general is one of the biggest things we've lost in the advent of streaming services. When I was a kid in a low income household that liked to play video games, I only had the games that I owned, meaning I'd often be replaying games from my limited collection that slowly built up over the course of many birthdays and Christmas seasons. If there was a game I really wanted to play but couldn't wait until Christmas or my birthday to get - or maybe it was on a console I didn't own - I'd have to rely on whoever I was friends with at school to either play it with them at their house, or trade one of my own games with theirs (this is actually how I wound up owning my Gamecube copy of Tales of Symphonia, which I loved so much that I kept borrowing it from my friend at school, until he finally just let me keep it years later as a gift because he wasn't interested in beating it and knew I'd get more fun out of it, thanks Edmund LOL). And when that all failed? Welp, guess it's time to crack open the bag of games that I have and see what I'm willing to replay. Half the time I wouldn't even actually progress the game, I'd just fuck around in the overworld making my own stories. Many hours I've spent riding around Hyrule Field on Epona and visiting towns to talk to the NPC's in Sylvarant.

And hoo boy, did this make the experience of buying new games a whole ass event. If you were lucky, you'd get a new game on Christmas or your birthday, in which case the worst of your waiting would be getting through the festivities until everyone left so you could hole yourself up in your room with your new copy of Pokemon Colosseum. If you were unlucky, you would get the chance to buy a game from the actual game store an hour away in the city, but then you'd have to be stuck in the car and god knows where else your parents dragged you while re-reading the instruction manual for Kingdom Hearts 2 cover-to-cover and begging them to just take you home already, what the hell do you mean we're staying for the weekend at dad's friend's place-

And yeah, this was often the case with movies too, we only had the movies we owned, oftentimes on VHS tapes in a box in the basement that we would dig through when the DVD's we owned weren't cutting it. There are movies that I'm still sick of despite my fond memories of them because we'd watch them back to back just to make the time pass, especially during summer vacation when school was out and there was nothing to fill the day with besides whatever entertainment we could make for ourselves. We had a couple family friends who knew their way around a computer and were able to pirate and burn DVD's for us, but that always came with video quality that would jump from high to low, and hilarious audio glitches that almost trained us to expect them in clean versions of the film when rewatching it years later, just for us to go "oh yeah, that was a bootleg copy of Hancock, the music isn't supposed to suddenly blip out and then blip back in during the credits". Other than that, there were rental spaces, but growing up in the sticks meant the selection of rental films was limited to whatever was available at the nearby family-run gas station and the library.

If any of this resonates with you, and you now find yourself in the position I do where you're more than willing to rewatch the same movies and shows you watched as a kid but find yourself completely uninterested and almost disconnected from the sensationalized artificial hype created by studios and streaming services like Marvel and Disney and Amazon, well let me assure you, you're not alone, it's not just you. Yes, we are getting old. Yes, we are experiencing much of the same disillusionment that our parents did and their parents did that comes from simply growing older. This is unavoidable.

But it's absolutely also still worth discussing the consequences of these changes, because as it stands right now, much of that disillusionment is being sped up by the effects of the exponential technological growth and oversaturation of media around us. I'm sure this could very well be a flawed comparison, but it makes me think of the things that have managed to survive even to this day compared to the things that came around in the height of the technological boom of the mid-2000's - newspapers were around for centuries and still managed to survive the rise of radio and television until the advent of the Internet as a popular method of consumption around the mid-2000's which is when they were truly threatened to become obsolete... meanwhile streaming services as we know them today have been around for barely two decades and they're already failing, and that's nothing compared to the tech bros who are constantly coming up with new gimmicks and "miracle technology" like NFT's and AI which are often clung to immediately by corporations purely on the basis of hype and inflated promises, just to become financial black holes within a year that they then have to find sneaky ways to profit off of until something else comes along to fill their void for something "new and innovative".

Case in point, I'm not even thirty yet, I shouldn't already feel like I'm falling behind the way my parents did when they were in their 40's. That whole feeling of life being "over" at 25 isn't just psychological, it's being actively enabled by the titans of capitalism shifting the goalposts of how we interact with the world faster than ever before. I can absolutely still quote the entire script of Shrek as it's happening onscreen, but I can't for the life of me remember a single video I watched while doomscrolling in bed last night.

And this HAS had its effects on art and media, because now movies and shows are simply hype-events that people consume and never touch again, never re-analyze, never rewatch with updated perspectives. You'd be shocked how many times I've rewatched old Spongebob episodes like Squid on Strike and Selling Out just to realize that Hillenburg himself knew what was up and was both empathizing and warning the adults of that time period what was happening in the creative industry - and now those episodes are still timeless and relatable even more than they were back then because we're now living in the exact reality that such episodes were trying to warn us about. Don't even get me started on films like Idiocracy which may as well now be a prophecy uttered by ancient gods that we should have probably paid more attention to.

This effect of turning art and media into mindless "content" is even bleeding into the smaller industries as well. Within my own special interest and experience, webcomics, a virtually endless library of indie media to enjoy that isn't gatekept by industry control, is now becoming controlled by corporate platforms which pump out cheap media that's trained people to value quantity over quality, oftentimes resulting in fanbases who barely even read what they're swiping through and will deadass forget the name and plot of the comic weeks after they've stopped seeing it in their reading lists. Many of those same readers will immediately get nervous as soon as anyone even mildly criticizes or questions the content that's being consumed, often jumping on the defensive with arguments like "you need to turn your brain off if you want to enjoy the story" and "stop thinking about it so hard" and "just let people enjoy things".

I don't know about you, but as a seasoned webcomic artist myself who loves engaging with discussion and discourse surrounding their favorite pieces of media, I'd be livid if I found out my readers were saying that shit about my own work. I want you to think about it. I want my work to get your brain moving. I want you to come up with your theories even if they're wrong. I want you to re-read and change your opinions and re-think your perspectives as you re-engage with the text with a new lens that changes both over time and over the course of reading the work in full. I want you to be capable of engaging in nuanced critical discussion and thought without it automatically becoming a polarizing battle between "fan and hater". I suppose I was born just a little too late to exist in the time period that allowed projects like my own weird convoluted "work for the lore" meta-commentary shit to exist without needing to maintain a company's bottom line. Instead, I was born just in time to exist in the world that's solely serving the "turn your brain off" population of consumers who don't even realize how much their senses and thought processes have been numbed by the effects of late-stage capitalism, with only the hope that maybe there will be a renaissance within my lifetime.

The disillusionment we feel from "what the kids are watching today" isn't just a symptom of getting older. It's a symptom of all of us - as a collective society, across all the generations - getting fucked by corporations bombarding our senses for profit.

Matt Damon explains why they don’t make movies like they used to. Pls watch.

[ackonow]

The Salsette Advantage: Top Reasons to Choose Salsette27 for Your South Mumbai Flat

If you're looking for a spacious and luxurious flat in South Mumbai, Salsette is the perfect destination for you. With its rich history, strategic location, diverse real estate landscape, vibrant lifestyle, excellent connectivity, and promising future prospects, Salsette offers a unique advantage that sets it apart from other areas in the city. In this article, we will explore the top reasons why Salsette should be your preferred choice when it comes to finding your dream home in South Mumbai.

Understanding the Salsette27 Advantage

Before delving into the specific reasons, it's important to understand what makes Salsette so special. Salsette Island, which is the second-largest island in Mumbai, has a fascinating history that dates back centuries. The island has witnessed numerous cultural and historical events, making it a place of great significance in the city's heritage.

Salsette Island's captivating history is a tapestry woven with tales of ancient civilizations and colonial influences. From the early human settlements in the Stone Age to the reign of dynasties like the Mauryas, Chalukyas, and the Portuguese, each era has contributed to the island's diverse cultural fabric. The remnants of these bygone eras can still be seen in the architecture, traditions, and stories that permeate Salsette's landscape.

The Real Estate Landscape in Salsette

One of the major advantages of choosing Salsette for your South Mumbai flat is the wide variety of housing options available. From luxurious high-rise 2 BHK and 3 BHK apartment, Salsette offers something for everyone's taste and preference. The real estate market in Salsette is highly competitive, offering potential buyers and investors a range of choices to suit their needs and budget.

Salsette, also known as the heart of South Mumbai, is a vibrant and bustling neighborhood that seamlessly blends modern living with rich cultural heritage. The streets are lined with quaint cafes, designer boutiques, and art galleries, creating a unique charm that attracts residents and visitors alike. Living in Salsette means being surrounded by a dynamic community and having easy access to a plethora of amenities, from world-class restaurants to top-notch schools and healthcare facilities.

The Variety of Housing Options

Whether you're looking for a cosy two-bedroom apartment or a sprawling penthouse with panoramic views of the city, Salsette has it all. The diverse real estate landscape ensures that you can find a property that matches your lifestyle and requirements.

Each residential property in Salsette is meticulously designed to offer a blend of comfort, style, and functionality. Twin towers feature state-of-the-art amenities such as infinity pools, fitness centres, and landscaped gardens, providing residents with a luxurious living experience. Additionally, the architectural diversity in Salsette caters to different design preferences, ranging from contemporary minimalist structures to elegant colonial-inspired facades.

The Investment Potential of Salsette Properties

Investing in a property in Salsette offers not just a place to call home, but also a lucrative investment opportunity. With its strategic location, growing demand, and planned infrastructure developments, property values in Salsette are expected to appreciate significantly in the coming years. This makes Salsette an ideal choice for both homeowners and investors looking for long-term gains.

Furthermore, the rental market in Salsette is robust, providing property owners with a steady stream of income. The high demand for rental properties in this sought-after neighbourhood ensures a low vacancy rate and attractive rental yields. Whether you're purchasing a property for investment purposes or as a primary residence, Salsette promises a rewarding real estate experience that combines financial growth with a high quality of life.

The Lifestyle and Amenities in Salsette

Living in Salsette offers a unique lifestyle enriched by its vibrant cultural scene and an array of recreational facilities.

Salsette, nestled in the heart of a picturesque landscape, is a haven for those seeking a harmonious blend of nature and urban living. The city's architecture reflects a mix of traditional charm and modern influences, creating a visually stunning backdrop for residents and visitors alike.

The Unique Cultural Scene

Salsette is known for its rich cultural heritage and vibrant arts scene. From art galleries and theatres to museums and cultural festivals, there is always something happening in Salsette to cater to your artistic sensibilities.

Exploring the streets of Salsette, one can witness the fusion of different cultural elements that have shaped the city's identity over the centuries. Local artisans and performers add a touch of authenticity to the cultural tapestry, making every corner of Salsette a story waiting to be discovered.

The Array of Recreational Facilities

Salsette boasts a wide range of recreational facilities, including lush green parks, sports complexes, fitness centers, and waterfront promenades. Whether you want to go for a jog or spend a leisurely evening by the sea, Salsette has you covered.

For outdoor enthusiasts, Salsette offers a plethora of activities such as hiking trails, cycling paths, and water sports facilities. The city's commitment to promoting a healthy and active lifestyle is evident in the well-maintained recreational spaces that cater to people of all ages and interests.

The Array of Recreational Facilities Salsette boasts a wide range of nearby amenities, ensuring a luxurious and convenient lifestyle for its residents. Health and wellness are well catered for with the presence of Wockhardt Hospital and Global Hospital, providing top-notch medical services. For leisure and entertainment, residents can enjoy the nearby racecourse, Four Seasons Hotel, St. Regis, and Phoenix Mall, offering a variety of dining, shopping, and entertainment options.

On the premises, Salsette offers extensive amenities including a clubhouse, a beautifully landscaped garden with a pond, rainwater harvesting, and a sewage treatment plant. For fitness enthusiasts, there is a gymnasium, steam room, massage/spa room, indoor badminton court, swimming pool with a deck area, walkways, and a cricket practice pitch. Additional recreational facilities include a BBQ area, reading corner, and both indoor and outdoor Jacuzzis. Whether you want to relax, stay active, or enjoy quality time with family and friends, Salsette provides everything you need for a vibrant and fulfilling lifestyle.

The Proximity to Key City Landmarks

Salsette's strategic location ensures easy accessibility to major business districts, educational institutions, healthcare facilities, and entertainment hubs. Whether you need to commute to work or take your children to school, everything is within reach when you live in Salsette.

Furthermore, Salsette is in close proximity to iconic landmarks such as the Bandra-Worli Sea Link, which not only offers a picturesque view but also serves as a vital link between the western suburbs and South Mumbai. Residents can enjoy leisurely drives along the sea link, taking in the breathtaking sights of the Arabian Sea and the city skyline.

The Future Prospects of Living in Salsette

Salsette's future prospects are incredibly promising, thanks to planned infrastructure developments and the potential for property appreciation.

The Planned Infrastructure Developments The government has planned several infrastructure projects for Salsette, including the expansion of roads, the development of metro rail lines, and the improvement of civic amenities. These developments will enhance the quality of life in Salsette and contribute to the overall growth of the area.

The Potential for Property Appreciation

Investing in a property in Salsette not only offers a comfortable lifestyle but also the potential for significant appreciation in value. As the area continues to grow and develop, property values are expected to rise, providing homeowners and investors with a substantial return on their investment.

In conclusion, Salsette offers a unique advantage for those seeking a luxurious and convenient lifestyle in South Mumbai. With its rich history, strategic location, diverse real estate landscape, vibrant lifestyle, excellent connectivity, and promising future prospects, Salsette stands out as an ideal destination for those looking to buy a flat in South Mumbai. By choosing Salsette, you'll be investing in a home that provides not just comfort and convenience but also long-term value and a vibrant community to be a part of.

[dnd4adults]

Tales of the Great Library

The Price of Beauty

The name Dragonsgate is deceptive, actually referring to a winding mountain pass through which the Wyrmsong River flows down, out of Drakhonia. It’s a rugged often narrow passage with sheer mountain walls on either side, sudden drops along its length, and always the roar of Wyrmsong. Dragonborn have long exploited the naturally defensible entrance to their country with scores of well-manned ambush points ready to assault land-based invaders. Actual dragons are frequently spotted over the pass, adding surveillance and defense by air.

At the lower end of the pass, Drakhonia maintains a trade community known in the Common Tongue simply as the Low Gate. Here again, there are no actual gates or even walls surrounding the community. It's shelter comes form rugger terrain and the wild. The greater concentration of community resides on either side of Wyrmsong’s rushing flow, with arched stone bridges for traffic passing back and forth across town. Isolated homesteads and towers spread outward for a mile around, however, equal in number to the central population.

GLORIEL WANDWEAVER (Wood Elf Sorcerer)

This is the friend Verdantorix mentioned. A elven sorceress of considerable skill, she's spent centuries acquiring discipline over her wild magic by crafting wands useful as arcane foci. She has a comfortable home and shop on the east side of community, including a teleportation circle inscribed in the workshop floor. Once each lunar month Gloriel makes “jaunts” to Alekhandir, selling wands she’s prepared for enchantment. She can activate the circle at any time, however, and is willing to do so as a favor for Verdantorix.

Indeed, when he a young dragonborn ranger, Verdantorix had an unfortunate encounter with a wild boar and barely made his way back to town alive. Gloriel found and took him in and nursed him back to health in secret, so other dragonborn wouldn’t witness his shame. Gloriel personally finds the idea perplexing, but could plainly see how much the notion troubled the ranger. They’ve been good friends for one another ever since.

If their need is urgent she's willing to activate the teleportation circle immediately. Insofar as she was already planning a trip in the morning, Gloriel asks the men if they wouldn't mind taking lodgings at an inn for the night, so she can complete her preparations. They're happy to oblige, of course -- provided Verdantorix allows them to pay for his drinks and lodging before the ranger makes his way into Dragonsgate and Drakhonia.

Low Gate

With the better part of an afternoon before them, five men (and Dorrik) scatter into the community, agreeing to reconvene at sundown, comparing notes on likely inns.

Sir Andros & Dorrik sell the iron bars, platinum filigree shield, and one filigree short sword. Andros keeps the other as a trophy weapon. Khazpar & Verdantorix sell the platinum filigree drinking horn, giving the dragonborn money to live on once in Drakhonia, as well as the dead centurion's armor and weapons. Khazpar retains the ominous Dread Helm for deeper consideration. Khazpar domnates half his income to a local shrine. Teddy & Hyram concentrate their efforts on the search for an inn. For Hyram, of course, it's a matter of professional pride, checking to see what others do with their cooking. For Teddy, however, it's been a long-hard slog through the wilderness, wholly lacking the creature comforts he'd taken for granted at the Great Library, and he wants a proper bath!

Sheth Ethorel ("House of the Restful Lily")

About a half-mile northwest of Low Gate's bustling town center, along a lesser stream making its way down from Drakhonia's heights, a delegation of high elves representing the Fey Court and Elven Nation established the semi-isolated refuge known as House of the Restful Lily. As the name implies, it's intended as a retreat from the Mortal Realm -- a slice of Faerie to which ambassadors and their retinues could retire following long deliberations with dragonborn politicians.

Ever since the Fall any need for ongoing diplomatic relations between the Elven Nation and Fey Court have long since ended, but the Fey Court retains its presence at Sheth Ethorel, opening their retreat for the enjoyment of others. It's never boisterous, crude, or ill-mannered here. It's quiet, wonder-filled, and other-worldly, rather like stepping into a waking dream. Gloriel recommends it, in fact, taking a fortnight's holiday at the "spa" every mid-winter.

The House of the Restful Lily does not occupy a crossroads into Faerie, however, nor any otherworldly realm for that matter. It was "grown" by the original high elf founders, making use of magic not unlike that of a Dark Shard. A fey fragment, however, is a living part of the Twilight Realm transplanted into the Mortal. As long as the fey fragment thrives, Sheth Ethorel remains a fey haven.

SYLVARIE (High Elf Cleric - Twilight Domain)

This lovely elf woman has been Mistress of the House for the better part of a century, so a fixture in Low Gate community known for her impeccable character and services. She never leaves House of the Restful Lily or its grounds, of course, as she's responsible for the fae fragment. Even so, she made an outstanding name for herself by greeting every visitor personally -- an enchanting introduction to an elvish spa-retreat, indeed!

Sylvarie's divine mistress is none less than elven love goddess Celene. In the Twilight Tradition, of course, she's associated with much more than sexuality, being a muse of artists and poets, and patron of relaxation, bathing, restorative rest, and sweet dreams of Faerie. As Mistress of the House Sylvarie is effective high priestess of the fae sanctuary, proudly maintaining its tradition as a place of rest, restoration, and repose for any who reach it.

SAETH (Half-elf Bard - College of Glamour)

Seath is originally from Celenaar, and participated in the Bloodless revolution fifty years ago, being all of seventy years of age. Given his multi-generational half-elven heritage, however, he looks little older than a mature thirty-five. Exceptionally charismatic, he discovered the the House of the Restful Lily twenty years ago, and struck a deal with Sylvarie. In exchange for bard services including appropriate musical entertainment, and assistance managing practical operations for the retreat, Saeth makes Seth Ethorel his home and avails himself freely of any patrons who'll have him.

HERMEXES (Dragonborn Sorcerer)

As luck would have it, also enjoying the luxuries of the retreat is an old acquaintance of Verdantorix. If not so "beefy" as the ranger, Hermexes is nevertheless tall and powerfully built, with a decided look of the Golden Desert in his attire. In fact, he's something of a scholar on its geography and cultures -- not affiliated with the Great Library, however. Hermexes prefers Drakhonia. He is traveling to Alekhandir and the Great Library, even so, to consult on some desert expedition being organized.

A Taste of Faerie

This pair of them aren't the only dragonborn in the house, not this close to Drakhonia. The old friends soon reunite, are introrduced all around, but fall into conversation and join a hot pool occupied by a pair of bronze dragonborn women; twin sisters, apparently.

Andros meanwhile orders up one of everything, beginning with the baths followed sensual massage, both for himself and Dorrik.

Teddy's all about bath, as well, but passes on the sensual massage, along with Hyram, who's wracking his brains for the perfect message to send winging back with Lenore.

Khazpaar bathes as well but also spends time in conversation with Sylvarie, offering his services to her Twilight Mistress. The priestess replies this is a place of rest from toil, so the only service he may provide is setting aside his burdens for so long as he remains.

The longer one lingers in the House of the Restful Lily, however, the more its fae essence has opportunity to take effect. Like a slow-building intoxicant, visitors find themselves steadily more relaxed, social, and unburdened of woe and troubles. The source isn't just the pool springs, but everything influenced by the fae shard, including the food, structures, and the very air within them.

Feeling merely intoxicated, those influenced by the effect find themselves living wholly in the moment, with no recollection of past troubles nor worry about the future. For elves this is a natural, even normal sensation, so they mostly feel nostalgic or "at home." Others, however, become enchanted by the playing musical instruments, the sight of starlight on rippling water, the smells of flowers, and so on. If not led away, for pleasant dreams in fragrant bowers, else they'd fall asleep where they are.

Lovers often seek Seth Ethorel to spend the night together, but it's hardly the hedonistic brothel of Pandaemonium. Lovers often arrive together but are thy are very seldom made here, and acts of passion become far less important than devoted gazing and embraces.

Teddy: I have fallen in love with you, mudar-sadikh. Khazpaar: (Sighs.) That is to be expected. Teddy: Is it wrong? Khazpaar: No, ak-eshek. It means you are ready now for the next My Lady's mysteries -- and I had hoped to linger here with you.

Each morning before dawn, a gentle shower falls over the House of the Restful Lily and its grounds, softly scattering dreams and all sense of lingering intoxication. Guests awaken feeling rested and restored, their recollections of the night before happy yet hazy, like passing dreams. By light of dawn with a freshening rain just ended, there are trays of fresh fruit, mild cheese, and warm bread waiting, along with steaming pots of strong tea.

Verdantorix and Hermexes will return to Gloriel's shop with the company, as the blue dragonbon's headed to Alkehandir, as well. Verdantorix, as stated, will make his way up, into Drakhonia, convincing his people to renew their interest in the outer foothills.

[laveekestatesblogs]

Affordable Housing in Gurugram: A Reality or a Myth?

Gurugram (formerly Gurgaon), one of India’s fastest-growing urban hubs, symbolizes the rapid pace of economic growth and urbanization. Located in the National Capital Region (NCR), it has evolved from being a quiet suburb to a bustling metropolis with modern infrastructure, a thriving corporate ecosystem, and skyscrapers that house Fortune 500 companies. But beneath this façade of growth and affluence, there lies a pressing question: Is affordable housing in Gurugram a reality or just a myth?

As property prices have skyrocketed over the years, the dream of owning a house for many middle-class families seems increasingly distant. This blog will explore the affordable housing landscape in Gurugram, the challenges, government initiatives, and the potential way forward.

The Rise of Gurugram: A Tale of Unprecedented Growth

Over the last two decades, Gurugram has transformed from being a satellite town to an economic powerhouse. It has attracted multinational companies, real estate developers, and a large influx of skilled professionals. The city’s infrastructure—boasting world-class shopping malls, high-end restaurants, and luxury residential projects—has also fueled a real estate boom. However, this prosperity has come with its own set of challenges.

As Gurugram continues to expand, the demand for housing has surged, pushing property prices to levels unattainable for a significant portion of the population. The high-end residential complexes, luxury apartments, and gated communities are largely out of reach for lower and middle-income groups. This leads to the question: where does the common man fit into this urban landscape?

Affordable Housing: Definition and Need

Affordable housing refers to residential units that are reasonably priced, allowing individuals and families from lower- and middle-income groups to purchase or rent without straining their finances. Typically, housing affordability is defined by the household's ability to pay no more than 30% of their monthly income on housing costs.

The need for affordable housing in Gurugram is more pressing than ever. As the population swells, many people who work in the city—especially those in sectors like retail, education, healthcare, and blue-collar jobs—cannot afford to live in the very city they serve. This growing gap between housing availability and affordability is a concern that, if not addressed, could lead to long-term socio-economic issues.

Affordable Housing Policies in Gurugram: A Government Push

The Haryana government and the central government have recognized this issue and have rolled out several schemes to boost affordable housing.

Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojana (PMAY): Launched in 2015, the PMAY aims to provide affordable housing for all by 2022. The scheme offers subsidies on home loans to individuals from the economically weaker sections (EWS), low-income groups (LIG), and middle-income groups (MIG). In Gurugram, several developers have tied up with the PMAY scheme to offer affordable housing units.

Deen Dayal Jan Awas Yojana (DDJAY): This scheme, launched by the Haryana government, aims to create affordable plotted housing in low and medium-potential towns across the state, including Gurugram. The plots developed under this scheme are intended for individuals and families who wish to build their homes but cannot afford high-end projects.

Affordable Housing Policy 2013: Haryana’s Affordable Housing Policy 2013 was a landmark initiative to provide reasonably priced residential units within the city. Under this policy, developers were offered incentives to construct affordable housing projects. The policy limits the price of apartments and sets a cap on the size, thus ensuring that they remain within the reach of lower and middle-income groups.

Affordable Housing Projects: What’s Available?

Several affordable housing projects have sprung up in Gurugram in recent years. Most of these projects are located in the city’s outskirts, such as sectors 58–115, which are still developing in terms of infrastructure and connectivity. While they are not in the prime areas of the city, these projects offer residents a chance to own a home at a fraction of the cost of a luxury apartment.

Some notable affordable housing projects include:

Signature Global Group: This developer has been at the forefront of affordable housing in Gurugram, with several projects launched under the state government’s affordable housing scheme. Projects like Signature Global The Millennia, Signature Global Orchard Avenue, and Signature Global Grand Iva have garnered positive responses due to their pricing, amenities, and adherence to government guidelines.

Pyramid Infratech: Another key player in the affordable housing sector, Pyramid Infratech, has developed projects like Pyramid Urban Homes 2, Pyramid Fusion Homes, and Pyramid Pride. These projects offer amenities such as 24x7 security, ample green spaces, and proximity to essential services, making them attractive for homebuyers seeking affordability without compromising on quality.

ROF Group: ROF Amaltas and ROF Ananda are two affordable housing projects in Gurugram that cater to the needs of middle-class families. These projects are located near employment hubs and offer a mix of 1 and 2 BHK apartments, ensuring options for varying needs.

Challenges Facing Affordable Housing in Gurugram

Despite the push from the government and the increasing number of affordable housing projects, several challenges persist:

Location and Connectivity: Most affordable housing projects are located in the outskirts of Gurugram, where infrastructure is still under development. This makes daily commuting a challenge for residents, especially those working in the city center or neighboring Delhi. Connectivity via public transport is often limited, which can increase travel time and costs for residents.

Quality of Construction: Some affordable housing projects have been criticized for subpar construction quality and lack of amenities. Buyers often compromise on the quality of the materials used, the overall aesthetics, and the long-term durability of the project in exchange for lower prices.

Delayed Possession: Delays in possession remain a common issue in many affordable housing projects. Construction timelines often get extended due to bureaucratic hurdles, financial issues, or lack of regulatory clearances, leaving buyers in limbo.

Limited Options for Rental Housing: While there has been a focus on affordable housing for purchase, rental housing remains limited. Many people who migrate to Gurugram for work cannot afford to buy homes but need rental options. Unfortunately, affordable rental housing has not kept pace with the city’s demand.

The Future of Affordable Housing in Gurugram

Affordable housing in Gurugram is both a reality and a challenge. The various government policies and incentives have paved the way for a growing number of affordable housing projects. However, affordability is relative, and what might be considered affordable in Gurugram may still be expensive for many.

To make affordable housing truly accessible, the focus needs to shift toward holistic urban planning. This includes developing better infrastructure in the outskirts, improving public transport connectivity, and ensuring that affordable housing projects offer good construction quality and amenities. Additionally, encouraging the rental housing market will be key to catering to the needs of the migrant population.

In conclusion, while Gurugram is making strides toward offering affordable housing, there is still a long way to go. The dream of owning a home in this city remains a reality for some and a distant myth for others. As the city continues to grow, striking the right balance between luxury and affordability will be crucial in ensuring an inclusive and sustainable urban future.

[readjthompson]

Well, since my novelette Cancel Toby Chalmers! (copyright me, now) has been sitting around, completed, for nearly 16 months, I’ve decided to share it for free, until it’s later released as part of a Toby Chalmers collection.

Here are Chapters 4 and 5.

Chapter 4

Eyeing his laptop as if it were a dog on its deathbed, Toby Chalmers read what he’d just written aloud: “Grandpappy reached deep into Grandmother’s white-maned punani, wherein he’d stored his dentures to keep them warm and fragrant, and retrieved thirty-two porcelain chompers that he popped into his mouth. The pair then beckoned me to sit between them on the couch. ‘Come here, sonny boy. Lemme tell you a story,’ said Grandpappy, ‘about how a simple sheepfucker invented the first condom.’”

Is this supposed to be funny or ghastly? Toby wondered. Have I no shame left within me? He consulted the clock. Well past dinnertime, he thought. I’ve been fleshing out this ridiculous narrative for hours. A tale within a tale within a tale within a tale, how complex. Good thing I had a large breakfast.

He saved what he’d written to a thumb drive and powered off his computer. Well, I’m too tired to have something delivered, but there’s still time to drink, he thought, making his way to the kitchen.

Toby had mostly given up drugs—no more cocaine, seer’s sage, mummy clumps, or opium—though he still enjoyed MDMA and marijuana at concerts. He exercised every morning to combat the effects of middle age. He’d cut caffeine from his life entirely and even given up sweets. Still, he couldn’t go a day without downing some beers.

IPAs were his favorite. Whensoever he went grocery shopping, any untried variety was an instant purchase. When feeling festive, he layered them in mugs beneath Guinness to make black and tans. Currently, his refrigerator housed eleven different options.

His absolute favorite was known as Aetheric IPA. Sadly, the homebrewing geniuses who’d brewed the stuff were now dead—part of a suicidal death cult, allegedly—and once Toby finished off the few he had left, there’d be no more attainable. Its fruity, floral flavor made every meal, even reheated eggs, feel like a royal banquet. When accompanied by no food, it eroded hunger pangs anyway.

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” he muttered, grabbing a cold bottle and uncapping it. He took a swig and wandered into the living room. He’d recently bought a new sectional sofa, replacing one that always smelled like a dog’s bed for some reason, though Toby had never owned a pet. Onto it he plopped, to bring his TV to life.

It was just his luck that a news broadcast awaited him. Current events were dour, as per usual. Four African American cops had killed an unarmed African American motorist, who’d run a stop sign without slowing in a low-income neighborhood. Footage showed them dragging the man from his Hummer H2 and stomping his dreadlocked head, again and again, as he begged them for mercy, for the sake of his children, then for the sake of his parents, spitting teeth shards with each uttered syllable. Bystanders filmed the assault with their iPhones, chanting, “Police brutality!” and, “Stop, you’re killin’ him!” All kept their distance, lest the bloodlust of those badge-toting sadists next target them.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Toby muttered. Though he’d been obsessed with horror fiction for as long as he could remember, real life horror always turned his stomach. Occasionally, it found him, and he had to endure it. Other times, it found others, and he could escape it by changing the channel.

On this night, however, a simple channel change couldn’t erase the sight of the brutalized man’s visage from Toby’s mind. Though he drank beer after beer and binged Rick and Morty episodes back-to-back, the man’s fading speech, growing increasingly dreamlike as his death’s certainty burgeoned, echoed through Toby’s noggin, hauntingly. The soil beneath Toby’s home, glutted with the blood of innocents since times immemorial, seemed to pulse, as if the continent was awakening and would soon shake civilization from its back.

To make his night even more depressing, he pulled his cellphone from his pocket and scrolled down his social media feed. Naturally, most of the posts that he encountered were reactions to the murder.

“He shouldn’t have resisted arrest!” wrote Zombifkr42.

“Your momma shouldn’t have resisted abortion,” replied ProudLinny.

“White supremacy at its worst!” wrote Uplizft.

“Everyone involved was black, though,” EqualityWhore replied. “If you wiped your ass too hard, you’d blame Caucasians for that, too, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I am a Caucasian, so I’d be right if I did,” Uplizft countered.

“That explains the 666 birthmark on your head,” was EqualityWhore’s rejoinder.

Scrolling past an ad for a hat he’d already purchased twice, Toby then encountered SloopJamalB’s “Defund the police!!!!!!!!!” post.

“Then who’ll get your crackhead mother to stop licking my dog’s asshole?” replied NahDawgUTrippin.

“It’s a media hoax,” claimed 62BiscuitsYumYum. “Those aren’t even African Americans, just five Jews wearing masks.”

“I seent it! I seent it!” replied DonBibblestick.

“Crackers aren’t allowed to discuss this!” wrote DieWhitiesDieDie. “Let ’em choke on their forked tongues if they attempt to!”

Toby closed his eyes for a few moments, focusing his thoughts. With a series of deep breaths, he cultivated an inner stillness. Reminding himself that each and every post and reply that he’d read belonged to just one person, he chugged the last of his beer and forced himself to grin. “Let a better world start with me,” he said to himself, hoping that it might become his new mantra.

Now soused optimistic, suddenly sure that he could contribute to rational discourse and help better all of humanity, he began to craft a post of his own.

 

Chapter 5

Kneeling at his backyard’s east-facing edge, Lamonte Achebe pruned dead hydrangeas and branches, reveling in the morning quiet. His wife and daughters were late sleepers on weekends; there’d be plenty of time to fix them breakfast—grits and eggs with toast on the side, perhaps even freshly-squeezed orange juice.

One day, Lamonte would retire from his soul-shriveling insurance adjuster job and devote every morning to his flowers. He’d inherited his green thumb from his mother. The good woman’s ghost yet survived in his garden’s floral ambiance, he believed, shaping its heady perfumes and vibrant colors into something truly angelic.

Suddenly, the morning’s sanctity was shattered by heinous sonance: “Pick that cotton, you dumb nigger! Pick it until I say you can stop!”

Lamonte’s eyes narrowed; his hands squeezed into fists. He’d always been a large African American: nearly seven feet tall even in high school, just over three hundred pounds now. Ergo, even the most racist of racists had kept their words civil in his presence. Every time a cop pulled his car over, they took one look at Lamonte and let him off with a warning, unsure whether they were carrying enough ammunition to put him down, should he decide to attack them. Unasked, Caucasians told him of their favorite black sports stars, as if he was some dark totem come to life, and required oblations.

“Well, what are you waitin’ for, nigger?! I don’t have all day!”

Lamonte realized that the hate speech emanated from the backyard next door. Is that Joseph McCarthy Jr. I’m hearing? he wondered. Just a few weeks ago, he spotted me on the way to the mailbox and assured me that Snoop Dogg's Hood of Horror is the best horror anthology film ever made. I guess that the leopard’s showing his spots now!

Well aware that, with his size and strength, he could kill a man like Joe easily, Lamonte attempted to modulate his anger and tune out his neighbor’s bigoted outbursts. Then came, “That’s better, you dirty coon! Be good for your master and I’ll spare you the whip!”

“What the hell’s wrong with that man?” Lamonte muttered, carefully setting his pruning shears down and rising to his feet. I’d better put the fear of God into him right quick, show him that I won’t be bullied, he thought.

Lamonte peered over the fence and his mouth opened, aghast, the retort that he’d planned to unleash dissolving, unvoiced. The surreality of the scene before him made his surroundings seem most fragile, as if they might soon shatter to reveal that he’d been in bed dreaming all along.

There was little Shadrach McCarthy, he of the premature facial hair, now shirtless and shoeless, wearing only a pair of hand-me-down Bugle Boy jeans, which had been cut around the ankles to hang raggedly. Behind him loomed Joseph McCarthy Jr., dressed in a white suit, black tie, and well-polished Oxfords, gripping a replica of Catwoman’s Batman Returns whip.

Cotton balls covered Joe’s entire back lawn. One at a time, carefully, quite terrified, eight-year-old Shadrach picked them up and dropped them into the pillowcase he was carrying. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His lower lip was aquiver. What the hell’s going on here? Lamonte wondered.

“Nigger, nigger, nigger!” Joe shouted, cracking the whip so that the tip of it just missed Shadrach’s trembling buttocks. “Smile while you work, boy! You’re makin’ me nauseous!”

Okay, I’ve seen enough of this madness, thought Lamonte. “Hey, Joe!” he shouted. “Just what do you think you’re doin’?!”

“Keep going,” Joe said to his nephew, before sauntering over to the fence. To Lamonte, he said, “Well, hey there, neighbor. Fantastic weather we’re havin’ today, isn’t it?”

“Sure. A great day for an ass whuppin’, if ever I saw one.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I’m cool with you shoutin’ the N-word? Next door to my house, where my wife and daughters might hear it? And don’t even get me started on this bizarre slavery reenactment.”

“Oh, come on, neighbor. How else is Shadrach gonna learn?”

“Learn what? How to be a sadistic, racist piece of shit?”

“Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Is that right?”

“Listen, man. Shadrach isn’t like me. He doesn’t empathize with other races. I even caught him laughin’ at an African American he saw on TV. So I thought to myself, if I make him experience a bit of the struggle that blacks have coped with in America, he’ll learn to love his fellow man as I do.”

“Joe, so help me God, if you hurt that boy…”

“Have no fear, neighbor. He knows that I won’t really strike him. Once this is all over, we’ll go out for dinner, and he can eat whatever he wants to. I respect and value your opinion, though. Please understand that. My ears are always wide open for whatever you have to say.”

“I say stop this atrocity.”

“Just as soon as he’s finished.”

Lamonte’s eyes narrowed to slits. He wanted to hurl himself through the fence and crater Joe’s smirking countenance. This piece of shit probably thinks that he knows more about being African American than I do, he thought, just because he read a few leftist articles.

But as far as he knew, as fucked up as it was, Joe’d committed no actual crime. Sure, Lamonte could film the man’s sickening exhibition with his phone and release the footage on social media. Millions would hurl insults at Joe and scream for his cancellation. But then Joe would post his rationale to the applause of like-minded thinkers, and other Caucasian children would be subjected to cotton ball barbarism. Joe wouldn’t lose his job. He’d pat himself on the back for standing up to “anti-woke bullies” and author a child-raising handbook that’d make him rich. It was always dangerous to give the Joes of the world more attention. Lamonte would have to consider his next move quite carefully.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Lamonte grunted, turning his back on his neighbor and heading inside. As he slid his sliding glass door shut behind him, he heard one last bit of hate speech.

“Did I say you could rest, nigger?! I want a good day’s work outta you!”

 

[themovieblogonline]

We Grown Now: Director Minhal Baig Gets Real

Ever feel like Hollywood forgot about stories from the projects? We Grown Now steps up to the plate, reminding us that real coming-of-age tales still exist. But this ain't your average teen flick. Buckle up for a journey through the vibrant chaos of 1992 Chicago, where two young boys navigate friendship, dreams, and the harsh realities of their environment. As someone who grew up in the projects myself, this movie hits a little too close to home... in a good way. https://youtu.be/xDxCjWeLvjU We Grown Now centers on Malik and Eric, best friends growing up in Chicago's legendary (and now demolished) Cabrini-Green housing projects. Director Minhal Baig paints a picture so vivid it's almost uncomfortable. We're talking about that broken elevator you pray doesn't swallow you whole, that ever-present scent of stale urine, and of course, the ubiquitous yellow bricks. The movie even throws a curveball with bricks...in the shower?! From the details like Lil Rey slinging pizza pies at Chester's to the shocking revelation that residents had to pay for their own utilities, the film captures the essence of project life with brutal honesty. Even Jurnee Smollett seems a tad young to play Malik's momma, but hey, sometimes age ain't nothing but a number in life. A Symphony of Sound and Silence While the visuals might be a punch to the gut, the soundtrack takes a different approach. Forget the usual Hip Hop and R&B. We Grown Now is layered with strings, creating a strangely beautiful counterpoint to the harsh realities on screen. It's almost like the music is a deliberate attempt to find beauty in the struggle. Speaking of interesting choices, the film never shows the teacher that Malik and Eric have a crush on so she's almost like a character out of a Peanuts cartoon. It's a quirky detail that adds to the movie's unique charm. We Grown Now isn't afraid to show the humanity of growing up poor. It's a celebration of friendship and the simple joys of being a kid, even when your playground is a warzone. Remember the Pledge of Allegiance in elementary school? Yeah, this movie throws it back to those days too. There's a scene with Malik's grandma shuffling around in a Muumuu, muttering about "holding on to the little bit we got." Damn, that line hits hard. And then there's the scene with the police enforcing ID checks for residents entering their own building. This is a chilling reminder of the constant surveillance faced by people of color in low-income communities. The tragedy that occurs in the movie is handled with a heartbreaking authenticity. The movie doesn't dwell on the details, just like you wouldn't dwell on them in real life. It's a constant undercurrent of fear and loss that young people in the hood have to live with. A Window to a Different World There's a recurring motif of the project window throughout the film. It's a constant reminder of the world outside, a world filled with opportunity that feels just out of reach. It's a cage, but also a symbol of hope. While the narrative might lean towards documentary-style at times, the heart of We Grown Now lies in its characters. The child actors deliver genuine performances that will have you reminiscing about your own childhood best friend. There's a scene where Malik dreams of buying his mom a house. It feels like this is a dream shared by countless kids in these places who just want to give back to their families. The film doesn't shy away from the harsh realities of project life. There is a constant threat of violence, a lack of resources, and broken homes. It's all there, but it's presented with a raw honesty that avoids sensationalism. We also learn about Malik's grandma's story and how she and her husband lost their store and ended up in the projects. It's a harsh reality as black families systematically pushed out of their communities and forced into these concrete jungles. This backstory adds another layer of depth to the film's exploration of poverty and race. A Story That Needed to Be Told We Grown Now is a film that will stay with you long after the credits roll. It's a powerful coming-of-age story that tackles themes of poverty, race, and the enduring power of friendship. It's a film that forces you to confront uncomfortable truths, but it also offers a glimmer of hope. This is a story that needed to be told, and Minhal Baig deserves props So, is We Grown Now a movie you should watch? Absolutely. Here's the deal: - It's a coming-of-age story that's raw and real, a far cry from the sugar-coated Hollywood fare. - It doesn't shy away from the tough stuff, but it also celebrates the resilience of the human spirit. - The soundtrack is a unique blend that creates a powerful atmosphere. - The performances by the young actors are nothing short of phenomenal. We Grown Now might not be an easy watch, but it's a necessary one. It's a film that will make you laugh, cry, and remember what it means to dream, even when the odds are stacked against you.

[talesofealdancynedom]

The wall Scroll of Doi Veng; hours of Thai art and a scanner's inability to digitize red and blue.

Tale 43:The Small Apothecary (chapter 1 - The Wall Scroll 1/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams

Qilin Celestine was on a cushion, at the low dining table, eating reconstituted soup from the food bank. The white lights of the apartment flickered, emphasizing the sloppy white paint, and the decaying infrastructure. The light scent of drywall, and cooking, lingered. He stared into a painting of a Naga. Teal, red, and gold-leaf; Dapicted with unicorn, with vibrant simpor and Ratchaphreuk. This single scroll, was the only colourful thing in their unit. While he was lost in it’s beauty, Qulin’s brothers started fighting again, and his mother was soothing the toddler. Qinin gazed deeper into the scroll.

All four of the children had different fathers. The last ‘dad’, left to ‘work’ abroad eighteen-months ago. Qilin felt unwanted, in spire of his mother’s love. It left him wanting to escape somewhere truly enchanted. Somewhere with colour and whimsy. The painting was the most magical thing in the room, and thus a glimmer of escape. It was something that connected Qilin to his heritage; He knew little of the Eastlands, having been born in the Grand West. Sometimes, his mother would tell them stories from that distant land, and give proverbs from the Philosophy of Water. But it wasn’t enough; Qilin hated his cramped home: His mother sweet and desperate, no paternal figures, and his brothers beat him up after school for not doing chores.

On that day, when he was dazzled by the scroll, something in Qinin snapped.

“I want to be a wizard.” He said abruptly, in the middle of his bickering family. There was anger in his assertion. He got no response. Qilin simply slumped, and hopelessly attempted to get the bits from the soup with his chopsticks; Longing for the resurrection of their rice-cooker. and chili oil. Qilin sighed, as he left the table. In the next room, he unrolled his sleeping duvet, in their shared bedroom, and retired early. As the house quieted, Qilin heard his mother gather her things for a night shift. When the door creaked open, Qilin pretended to sleep. Then his mother knelt to his back, and kissed his cheek.

“I filled out an application for the International and Troubled Youth Academy. It’s across the isle. The only thing missing, is the field of wizardry you want to work in.” She whispered.

“We don’t have the money mom. Even if one of my three dads is paying child-support.”

“It’s a public-school, Lin. They can help you. Maybe you can meet someone to love, or find a friend from the Eastlands. There’s boarding, and you need space to grow. Even I will rest well knowing you’re taken care of and heading toward happiness.”

“Fine. Apothecary, maybe? I like flowers. Yellow ones.” Qilin sighed. Before she left, he rolled over to give her a soft hug goodnight. He drifted off in comfort. She was the thing in his was most grateful for.

Qilin arrived on campus alone, with a book of water philosophy poetry, a wand, and freedom from his low-income abode. He got excellent grades the first month. The second month he got detention for coming onto another gay student, and snapping back at a teacher. His sentence was helping fey professor Hara water the floral fey in the conservatory. Perverts the lot of them. Made Qilin smile; They understood him. It was as if each day, magic brought him joy in new ways. He felt being an Apothecary was the perfect choice.

“Master Fyrstan, the magic of Tree Kingdom’s gifts very, depending on if I ask or not; Is this garden where all the potion ingredients come from?” Qilin asked.

“No. Alas, we have to source from other nations. All schools do that. The Tree King shares her generous children with all; Normally by placing her said children, in the strangest and most random locations.” Hara shrugged.

“Professor, have you ever seen a Ruffled Dok Champa? Or Winter Blood Ceros? They make powerful S-Rank healing potions; I’ve always wanted to talk to one. Do you think I’ll ever be a good enough Apothecary to do so? What if they don’t like me, for asking for their gifts?”

“Don’t worry about that; They love to give. As for your enchanted flowers, I’ve never seen the first sort; They’re exclusive to Doi Veng Butte in the Eastlands. A self-sustaining magic forest I read. Nothing leaves that heritage site. It’s Grand Snow, but with less publicity.” Hara said. He was enthralled to have an engaged student,

“Regardless, you’re only in first year. Thing’s like that, are dreams awaiting you post graduation. And I bet you’ll make a fine Apothecary yet, Qilin. Fine enough to graduate right into the feild.” He smiled. Qilin took that as a challenge. It made him giddy to hear. As Qilin tried alchemizing water for the fey, he held onto Hara’s insight on his favourite healing flowers. Doi Veng was the grandest Magic Forest of The Eastlands. Of the kingdom of Vieticia. Hara done his duty as a teacher. Qilin was even more inspired; More desperately desiring the Golden Butte’s haven. Somewhere away from his home-life, and a place to belong to. The scroll could become reality.

In third year, Qilin’s pursuit of the adorable Far South boy, Rah, was abruptly halted. Not just because his flirting had resulted in punishment; Rah had became spoken for, by the Fish Kingdom. When she called, Qilin’s mother berated him about harassing people; She seldom got mad, and she was frustrated by his lack of character growth. It made Qilin sink. He was so far from her. Maybe he liked the idea of having a boyfriend, to just have someone to love him. Perhaps, it was the human need for attention, given his childhood. Qilin was left meditating in his dorm-room, with the unrelenting feeling of shame and loneliness.

By the next year, Qilin’s hard work made him the school’s top Apothecary student; Nearly S-rank in mid year. The prestige of an Apothecary, was indicated by the letter-rank of the potions they’d perfected: A to Z, where Z was the most complex and forbidden brews. Hours of fascinating books, and obsession with novel ingredients the professors gave him. Qilin’s competitive spirit thrived. This was better then his heart imagined. He ceased each chance, and persisted until he achieved perfection. Qilin let go of the idea of romance, and wed his studies.

Yet, being alone weighed on him. Qilin tuned into the Eastland station, on the radio, as a distraction, while he concocted advanced potions; for extra credit, or detention if the recipe was dangerous. Good or bad, all results fed his addiction to attention.

Like the scroll, that radio was all Qilin had for his culture. Even though his mother assumed an international school would have Eastlanders, Qilin turned out to be the only one. It seemed, there were peers from everywhere else. The scroll and a radio continued to be his only connection to the tropical far-off land; A place known for spicy food and mythical golden flowers. His mother and siblings always talked Modern Vietician at home, so he was the only one who understood the news and music. It became company enough. He was unable to make friends as school progressed. It truth, it made him aggressive, and his academic achievements made other students envy him.

When Qilin went home that year, the potions professor let him take the lab radio. He listened to it at home. As the high of an exciting school life wore off, Qilin found himself crying silently in the night. Being surrounded by supportive people at school, and a better quality of life, made him comprehend the extent of his poor hand in life.

The apartment was hot over the summer, and Qilin’s brothers were off working now. However, he couldn’t work in the summer, as Qilin had to babysit his little sister. But his mother was home a little more, to share time with him. She had a better position at work, and missed him over the semesters. But still, he could hear her shame for being unable to provide, in the quiver of her voice. Qilin sat on his cushion, eating instant noodles while drifting into the scroll again. After studying magic, he could finally recognize it; It was of Doi Veng.

Right before the next school year, there was news that Doi Veng had a mage. Qilin had met some mages in school. They were to nice for all the rumours of their dark powers to be true. Hara for one, seemed to glow of magic’s joviality. Qilin realized they were simply talented obsessed nerds. Like him. So when hearing he may work with one in the future, Qilin jumped over the low table to turn of the dial. He was in his pajamas, on all fours. Whitestead had ravished the legendary butte’s wonders, and their son, Aurum, found out he was a mage in a presentation. He was imprisoned, which is odd, as laws were loose in a nation of non-judgmental egalitarian culture. According to the news, Doi Veng’s community finally had an opinion; They protested successfully for Aurum’s freedom, and elected him as their Witch. Qilin gasped at the strength it must have taken, to stand up against such powerful wizards; Surviving persecution, and work to the bone to be a beloved sweet community mage.

“That mom! I want to be like that! I want to be in a community of magic users, atop the golden meditation labyrinths of Doi Veng! Strength and serenity among people like me! Flowing with the philosiphy of the water’s way” Qilin cheered. For once, no silence. His mother nudged the bowl of yesterdays rice at his arm.

“I warn against looking too far into your future, and being so invested in your aspirations. And assigning thoughts to people and places you’ve never known? Things may not be as perfect as you think. Now eat before you miss the boat across the isle. You have another year of school left.” His mother said calmly.

Qilin got stitches running to the marina. He felt his sweat. Fear instilled, not two years before graduation. What if it’s not what I imagined? Moving won’t fix my family, nor me. Qilin pondered. Deeply breathing the salty air, reflecting on his work and wayward soul: What if I’m not accepted as a local Apothecary, when they have a mage? And will the temple take me, and road be rough, because my stubborn obsession and thirst for love, made me stray to far to one side?

NEXT --->

[sunkenightmare]

Blog #3

Watching Candyman made me realize the problematic elements that I hadn't previously noticed. Several factors in the original Candyman film from 1995 contributed to these problematic aspects. Firstly, there is the issue of exposing Black pain through a white gaze. The white protagonist, Helen, becomes aware of the horrible stories circulating in the low-income housing projects of Cabrini Green, particularly about a figure known as the "Candy Man." Her intent is to uncover the horrific tale being discussed in the projects, but in doing so, the film perpetuates the trope of the white savior narrative. 

Furthermore, the portrayal of Cabrini Green as an urban jungle reinforces negative stereotypes about urban areas. The film exaggerates the conditions of Cabrini Green, making it appear as a dangerous and uninhabitable environment. The walls, covered in graffiti, and the dilapidated appearance of the buildings contribute to this perception. Interestingly, there is only one resident’s apartment shown, Anna Marie, throughout the entire movie, and there are no signs of human activity in the other apartment complexes.In one scene, Helen ventures into the courtyard and encounters a young boy who guides her to the bathroom. This scene further reinforces the notion that the project is isolated and filled with disaster and trauma. These portrayals contribute to the problematic representation of Cabrini Green, perpetuating stereotypes and distorting the reality of the community. Another frustrating aspect to observe is the portrayal of a white woman being pursued by a Black man. This narrative has been seen repeatedly throughout history, even in films like "Birth of a Nation." The film perpetuates the myth of Black male monstrosity through its depiction of Candyman, using images of him and the idea of Black thugs harming the white protagonist. However, the 2021 version of Candyman brings a refreshing perspective to the table.

In the newer Candyman film, there is a significant focus on gentrification and how white individuals perceive lower-income neighborhoods as opportunities for revitalization, leading to the dismissal and destruction of these communities. It highlights the displacement and homelessness that many residents experience as a result of gentrification in Black neighborhoods. Although Cabrini Green is shown as a ghost town with little development despite the promises made to its residents, it serves as a symbolic representation. The story also shifts the overall narrative of Candyman, presenting him as a forgotten figure embodying the stories of Black lives and urging individuals to speak up for justice and never forget. The phrase "Be my victim" transforms into "Say our names," emphasizing the importance of acknowledging and honoring the experiences of marginalized communities.

The ending of Anthony's story left me with mixed emotions. It was undeniably traumatic to witness his transformation into Candyman and the tragic encounter with the police. Throughout the film, I found myself rooting for Anthony, hoping he would find a way to break free from his fate and reclaim his former self. However, fate had a different plan Brianna, Anthony's girlfriend, played a pivotal role in the narrative, and her actions were both fascinating and intense. I was captivated by her bravery as she took down William and attempted to summon Candyman back to life by passionately chanting his name while confined in the police car. The moment when the bees swarmed and converged, ultimately forming the embodiment of Candyman, was visually striking . Yet, the most shocking revelation came when Brianna realized that the figure she had summoned was none other than a reincarnated Daniel Robitaille, the original Candyman himself. This unexpected twist left me in awe and added a deeper layer to the story.