#there is potential... but my problem is when the prof is just 'suddenly a good dad!!!'

[nichiperi]

Ya know, I've been seeing a lot of stuff for the hc of Zim and Dib as found family lately, and something about it was actually bugging me a bit. Like, I really like zade, zadf, and zadr, and I just couldn't understand why I couldn't really get behind zads.

And then I realized it's ENTIRELY because of Professor Membrane.

I do not like the idea of Zim being absorbed into the Membrane family dynamic, because in the show (the IZ source I'm most familiar with) Professor Membrane is a really shitty parent, and there is nothing satisfying to me about Zim just hanging out at that house with Dib and Gaz, adding another sibling to an already fairly miserable household situation. Sure, they can support each other. But what is the point of keeping them stifled in that environment if Membrane is not present and being a parent?

BUT, consider the alternative: Dib and Gaz saying 'fuck this shit I'm out', and spending more time with Zim at his base. Eventually they just go off on space adventures or something because why not? Found family in space! No shitty dad! Maybe if you reeeeally want a parental figure, you could throw in a dash of the dad-nar hc in there for some extra spice. And THEN you could have Zim deal with his feelings about HIS 'parental' figures. If Lard Nar starts being a real dad to this group of ragamuffins, how does that reframe the way Zim feels about the Tallest? How does Dib feel about the fact that an alien could (most likely) be a better dad than his own father? How do the two of them react to getting positive attention they've never received from a parental figure before?

And when I started thinking of it that way, I saw the potential. I still don't think it's my favorite. I think I definitely enjoy more room for flexibility and ambiguity with Zim and Dib, and making them view each other as siblings almost boxes them into that role a bit. But I can see the potential for a really interesting story there!

Provided Membrane is out of the picture.

[professorsnape394]

DAY 9 - The Bookshop

Pairing: Severus Snape x Student!Reader (Platonic)

Rating: 😠🥰

Prompt: Old Books

Request: @strawberryshortcake1

‘I was wondering if you could do a head cannon where snape and student reader are best friends. You can do it whenever you want!! But plz tag me <3’

A/N: Day 9 of Snapetober. Doing a little something different and using one of my requests along with a prompt. It didn't say whether it was Professor Snape or young Snape but since they specified student I went with Prof Snape. Headcannons aren't really my thing so I just done a lil one shot, hope you still like it!

Warnings:  n/a

Word Count: 1618

Credits to Gif Creator.

The harmonious chime of the hanging doorbell was like music to Severus’ ears upon entering the oh so familiar, though slightly ancient bookshop. The warm aroma of the shop engulfed him like a warm hug, and suddenly he felt home.

Ever since he first stumbled into the shop at the young age of 12 Snape had been welcomed with open arms by both the owners and the promise of solitude form the outside world.

Despite the many times he frequented the shop he had rarely encountered another human being, and never any that he knew. Sometimes Severus wondered how the place was still running giving how little business it seemed to drive in. But he appreciated the peaceful seclusion and how old Mr Thompson and his late wife had treated him like practically their own son each time he chose to visit.

“Ah Severus, a pleasure as always.” Mr Thompson smiled, adjusting his huge circular spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

“Afternoon, Wilfred.” Snape greeting, barely bothering to stop to talk. “I’ll be in my usual spot should you need me.”

“Ah. There might a problem with that, we have another customer visiting at the moment.” Snape immediately halted. “She seems to have made herself at home in your favourite chair. I’m afraid you may have to opt for somewhere different today.”

“Is that so? And who might this bold young woman be?” He cocked a curious brow.

“A student of yours I’d imagine. She’s been in at least half a dozen times this month.”

Snape let out a low hum of dissatisfaction, venturing further into the labyrinth of bookcases.

“Y/n, isn’t it?” The professor questioned, recognising the student from his Advanced Potions class.

The girl jolted at the sudden baritone catching her attention., almost knocking the cup of tea from her lap.

“Professor Snape!” She exclaimed, clutching a hefty hardback novel to her chest.

Snape eyed the book curiously.

“A rather complex title for your grade level, is it not?”

“Actually, I find it quite fascinating, Professor. I like the challenge.”

“Yes, I have noticed you seem to be excelling in my classes. You have the potential to become quite skilled.”

“Thank you, that really means a lot to me.” She grinned, a heat starting to warm in her cheeks.

Barely acknowledging her appreciation, Severus disappeared into the shadows of the shop, losing himself in a jungle of paperbacks.

The store exclusively stocked vintage novels, and ancient textbooks which gave the whole place a distinct smell of musk, the earthy wood scent filling his nostrils as he took a deep intake of breath. The professor’s thick fingers bumped along the spines of the leatherbound novels, gliding gracefully along the never-ending shelves of stories.

Knowing exactly where he was heading Severus took no notice of the titles until he neared the end of the shelf. Slowing to a stop, his finger abruptly fell through a rectangular shaped hole in the wall of books.

Spinning speedily on his heels, Severus knew exactly where his book had gone.

Storming his way to the back of the shop, Snape snatched the book from the small coffee table in front of y/n.

“I was just about to buy that!” Y/n objected.

“The key word being ‘was’ I’ve had my eye on this particular book for weeks, I’m not about to allow you to take it from me, when you haven’t even had the good sense to purchase it before making camp in my chair.”

“Your chair?”

“Yes. For more than two decades I have been visiting this shop and sitting in that exact seat.” Snape enunciated.

“Can’t you just sit somewhere else?”

“I could. However, as I am your professor and that chair is positioned in exactly the right spot to shield me from the draft coming from the door while simultaneously providing enough sunlight from the window to perfectly illuminate the pages of my book, I’d prefer not to.”

“Then I’m afraid you’ll have to come back another time because I’m not moving. I was here first, and you have no control of me out with the Hogwarts grounds, there’s nothing you can do to force me to move.”

“Is that right?” Severus shot the girl a challenging look.

She replied with a simple nod, standing her ground. Snape admittedly appreciated her confidence, he had yet to encounter a student eloquent enough to stand up to him and get away with it. Having come out victorious in the battle for the book, Severus graciously accepted his defeat with the seat. Wondering across the alcove, Snape fell into a long chaise settee, shifting uncomfortably as began to read.

“I see you’ve been bested.” Wilfred chuckled, handing Severus his usual mug of coffee.

“Mmm.” Severus droned grumpily, eyeing the girl in his chair.

“I didn’t take you to be the type to give up so easily, you must be getting soft in your old age.” The pensioner nudged him playfully before disappearing to the secluded back room.

No less than half an hour later the shop owner returned with a large platter of cakes and crisply cut sandwiches balancing shakily in his decrepit hands.

“I thought you two could do with some lunch. I’d greatly appreciate if you’d be so kind as to join me.”

Severus scowled irritably, while y/n looked over apprehensively, cautious as to not piss Snape off any more than she had.

Struggling to hold onto the platter while attempting to fix a lace tablecloth over a small table in the centre of the room.

With a roll of his eyes Severus took the tray from Mr Thompson pulling over a couple of chairs from corner of the room. “Let me help.” He offered.

At risk of appearing rude y/n set her book down, taking a seat at the table, waiting for the men to join her.

“So, Mr Thompson, how do you and Professor Snape know each other?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a few minutes of silence had passed, nibbling nervously on the corner of a cheese sandwich.

“Oh, Severus and I first met when he was just a lad, barely even 12 years old. He was by far the youngest customer we had had in the shop; it was quite a shock to see him come back week after week. He never seemed to buy anything though, always hauled himself up in the darkest corner of the store reading as much as he could until closing, until eventually we turned this room into a lounge area for him to come and go as he pleased, it was my wife’s pride and joy, this room. We were so fond of Severus, just a skinny, lanky chap, my Marie was desperate to fatten him up.” Wilfred chuckled, his eyes sparkling at the thought of his wife. “He came regular as clock work, week after week without fail. Then as he got older, he didn’t visit as often, y’know as teenagers do. Until eventually he stopped coming all together, and after what happened in the Wizarding war-“

Snape let out a sharp commanding cough silencing the old man. The tension didn’t go unnoticed by the young girl, but she chose to ignore it, sensing it was a taboo subject.

“Anyway, never mind about that.” The shop owner continued, avoiding Severus eye. “He came back when he started teaching, that’s the main thing. And he still remains a great friend to me, I hope I can expect the same from you, my dear.”

“I hope so too, I do love it here.” She confessed. “Though I don’t want to intrude, Professor Snape seems quite settled in his ways.”

Y/n dared to meet her professor’s eye, silently requesting his permission to share his safe space.

“I suppose I can’t stop you from coming here, it’s a free country after all.” He succumbed. “And it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for Wilfred to have a little more company other than me.”

For a second y/n could swear she saw Severus flash a subtle smirk in her direction, thought it was quickly masked by his large mug of coffee before she could be sure.

~

After a couple of chance meetings, followed by a few more not so chance meetings Severus and y/n arranged to meet in the bookshop every fortnight to have tea with Wilfred and read together peacefully. Soon enough the unlikely pair were getting together once a week to practice potions, each more challenging than the last.

Over the following months Severus grew fond of y/n’s company, growing accustomed to having her around as an acting apprentice. He almost felt sad as he would have to say goodbye to her as the year’s end approached.

A week before graduation Severus called y/n to his office for a final brewing session together.

“Before you leave, I… erm, I have a gift for you.” Snape stuttered.

“You do?” Y/n asked as she poured the finished potion into an empty vial, taken aback by his kind gesture.

The potions master handed over a haphazardly wrapped rectangle to his budding apprentice. Gingerly ripping off the paper to reveal the familiar old book, y/n almost burst into a flood of tears.

“It’s not much. I just thought that since you’re graduating you might enjoy something to keep you occupied over the summer, before you become an accomplished potioneer.”

“This… this is beautiful! Thank you so so much.” She gripped the book tightly to her chest, knowing to hug Snape would be inappropriate. “You really didn’t have to, professor.”

“Call me Severus.”

“Thank you, Severus.” She beamed. “Maybe after I graduate, we could become proper friends?”

“I think I’d like that.” He smiled genuinely.

~

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil @entirelymesmerising @mikariell95 @snapefiction@snapesmoonlight @a-queen-and-her-throne @amazingzou

[If I'm messing anyone or you would like to be added to my tag list just shoot me a message or reply down below and I'll get you added asap.]

[dreamychick]

Me and Tai have been Discussing Hogwarts again and were talking about classes. Obviously everyone would have their favorites and ones they'd be good at.

Charms would be my best and Favorite subject. It's mostly practical not theoretical. It's the most useful in everyday wizarding life. You learn a huge assortment of stuff from a knitting spell to a bubblehead charm. Like there are all different kinds of charms out there. And I feel like there's no end to what you can do. If something doesnt exist, you could make new charms and Prof. Flitwick would guide you along the way. He seems like one of the nicest teachers and most patient.

Even though I'd be a Muggle born coming into a world of Magic for the first time and I'd be excited for everything I'd probably hate HOM.Cuz like History of magic is taught by a guy who bored his own self to death. So thats probably a class id sleep through even if the subject matter were interesting. Goblin Rebellion sounds interesting as hell until you hear it being taught in a monotone voice and then you're suddenly being shaken awake and have a pool of drool on your face that you have to hastily wipe off bc it's time for the next class.

Divination is a wooly discipline. You have to have a given gift its not really something that can be taught. If you dont have an aptitude for it you cant hone anything. If you do have a gift for clairvoyance I think the class is a good one to take, it's not useless. Just useless to me. I'm not the sort who would have the sight. So prophecies and future and stuff is beyond me. So divination would be a waste of my time that I could spend doing something else.

Arithmancy is magic math who wants that?

Herbology is plants and I kill plants only these ones may try and kill me back. I think I'd find it interesting, I wouldn't be bored but I wouldn't retain it. It's used alot for potions ingredients. And I'd be fuckin useless at Potions.

Potions is cooking/science/math all in one. Anyone who has ever seen me try and do math or science knows I should not be allowed to create something that could potentially poison someone if done incorrectly. Also. Ive only been allowed to cook breakfast foods my whole life bc my sister runs the kitchen and doesn't let me try things so now I'm to lazy and don't want to. I cook rice in the microwave. It would be a miracle if I could scrape a passing grade for Potions at all.

Astronomy may be a good one. Staying up late. Learning the stars and the constellations. The placings. Charting and mapping. That would be helpful for adventuring, could navigate at night, by knowing where the stars are in relation to each other in terms of directions.

I feel like Id get super frustrated with Transfiguration bc id be over thinking it. To worried about the actual molecular structure of what im trying to transfigure. And stressing out cuz im not good at math and science. So i have no idea how to make it work. And when i do make it work its by dumb luck not bc i actually understand how im doing it. And when i TRY to understand it I just end up stressing out more bc i cant.

DADA I'd be good at. It's a practical class with practical application. Yes it requires some research for things like the creatures/beings you go up against, but once you've fought a Boggart you'll know how to fight it again. The situations may change but you'll know the spell. And it's something that requires action not as much sitting down and studying. My brain is broken. I need the classes I can move with.

Care of Magical Creatures I would love. New animals? Yes. Sign me up. I have 8 cats, 2 dogs and a turtle at home. But over my life we've had rabbits, lizards, hamsters, guinea pigs, fish, rats, birds and hermit crabs. I would love the hell out of new animals. My problem would be, like in the HP game now, I'd adopt these animals on the Reserve, take care of them and then it would be time for me to graduate and my ass would be like, "ok everyone into the magic bag, yup, yup once we get home Ill let you out. But come on, in you get." And Id take all of them.

Any muggle classes Id pass on, cuz I'm muggle born so that's a waste of time.

Ancient runes  is a book course. Like. All studying and memorization. Boring. I mean. It could be interesting I guess. But in the way that like studying Heiroglyphics is inyeresting. In that I think its interesting in theory. I think the subject matter is fascinating. Id love to learn more. But you put the book in front of me and my brain shuts off. I'm not gonna be able to focus on this man.

.....It has just come to my attention that in order to obtain my desired job of Curse-breaker I have to take

 Arithmancy and Ancient runes.

Well. Fuck me sideways.

I guess that makes sense, seeing as Curse breakers work for the banks most of the time but still. Can I be exempt seeing as how I'm a chosen one from Hogwarts? I've been finding Vaults and breaking curses for 6 years w/o this shit. May I be excused?

What do you mean no exceptions? But I have a recommendation from Bill Weasley! Plus! In a few years Harry Potter wont even Take his N.E.W.Ts but that bitch gets to be an Auror. Wtf.

Oooooh so you die ONE TIME for all of wizardom and you get a pass. Bitches.

Fine. Sign me up for both classes then.

I also MUST get an O on Transfigurations and Potions to get into the NEWT classes and an O or an E on Charms and DADA (The Classes Id probably pass with an O np) Luckily I only need to take the Arithmancy Owl no NEWT required. It doesnt say specifically if a NEWT is required for Ancient Runes. Or if Id need an O or E to get there. But lets hope I dont need it and that I can just take both with the OWLs and get an E. The NEWTS are Probably preferred but not necessary. So if I only just pass my OWL no biggie.

Someone better break out the Monsters and chocolate. And be ready to tutor the fuck out of me the week before exams to cram as much info into my head. Bc Im not retaining shit throughout the year.

[ckret2]

A while back you said “Generally I like to imagine Zim/Membrane as some kind of psychological/paranormal horror story (with most of the horror, of course, being on Prof Membrane’s end)” and I am intrigued. Care to enlighten us on what a darker Zimbrane might be like?

Well, this is the second time I've gotten this exact ask, so sure, why not. I tried to put in a read more and tumblr DELETED IT so i'm trying to edit it back in but if it doesn't stick, I apologize for the long post, I tried my best.

So let's rewind to episode 1 and start off with a full AU. Zim lands on earth and decides not to disguise himself among mere schoolchildren; instead, he does, like, five minutes of research on the planet he's just landed on and decides that the most useful place to infiltrate will be the scientific labs of the planet's greatest genius, so he can properly assess the planet's pathetic technological advancements and defenses and counter them accordingly.

So cut to Membrane labs and that was the last time we're gonna be in Zim's perspective. From now on it's all Membrane, all the time. And what he knows is they've just got a new recent grad ("graduate at what level? bachelor's, master's..." "I am the master of ALL!!" "master's level, cool") working for them. He says his major was in "everything that is known of the sciences on this filthy planet" and that his alma mater is "a university SO advanced you haven't even heard of it!" and like, with credentials like that, he's clearly going to be a great asset to the lab. And he asks so many questions! Clearly he's preparing to work on his doctorate and is prodding around for interesting subjects to write on. Membrane supports this ambitious fellow completely.

But something's odd. The first time his son visits the lab and sees their newest hire, he starts screaming about how he's an alien. Membrane always knew that Dib was a bit... obsessed with his fantasies—hunting for things that don't exist—but Membrane had always comforted himself with the knowledge that claiming he's looking for cryptids and claiming he's found cryptids are totally different things. This... this is a disturbing new development. He's starting to really worry about his son.

Thankfully, New Guy Zim takes it in stride—says he gets this all the time thanks to his skin condition, humans can be sooo gullible. His work isn't disturbed at all.

And wow, what work he does. He sees potential flaws in their lab work and inventions long before anyone else does. Lots of the other employees think he's an obnoxious little know-it-all, but Membrane recognizes his genius for what it is and is constantly amazed at his insights. He's basically the only one who can always keep up with Membrane's latest inventions & creations, understanding the science as easily as though it were elementary to him. And Zim is constantly expressing surprise that Membrane keeps up with his work, which is kind of weird, since Membrane has been doing this a lot longer than fresh-out-of-some-master's-program Zim has. But maybe it's because he's never actually worked in a lab doing REAL SCIENCE before. He's astounded to be around his peers. That's clearly it.

At one point Zim irritably shoves aside another inventor trying to get some doohickey working and with thirty seconds and some crap he pulled out of his backpack he gets a device working that they've been tying to get to function for the better part of a year. Membrane praises Zim effusively. (The inventor, who at this point is sick of Zim's crap, quits on the spot.) And Zim's little eyes light right up.

Suddenly he's inventing new things so fast Membrane doesn't know when he has time to make them—it's like he's just pulling them fully formed out of some closet he's got them all tossed in at home. Membrane is over the moon. His lab's never been this booming. And Membrane's got to confess: when someone is that good at science—possibly better even than Membrane himself—that's... kinda hot. Kinda super hot.

As a bonus, Dib's making more excuses to hang out at Membrane's lab. Membrane is sure that it's to "monitor the alien," but if it means he's exposed to more Real Science, ultimately it's gotta be good for him. At least Dib's hostility toward Zim has cooled somewhat—"I thought he was here to try to take over the planet, but, I dunno, it looks like he's just sharing the wisdom of his alien society with us? Which doesn't seem so bad." He's still totally convinced Zim is an alien, though. Ah, well. And he's determined to convince Membrane, too: "You know that energy absorbing creature thing he pulled out today? Do you have any idea what research he based it on? Like, is this a creation that naturally progresses from any of the current science we've got? You'd know, Dad, you're on top of every new development. So what's this one based on? Isn't it weird that you don't know? As if he's—oh, I don't know—sharing the end product of a field of scientific research that's centuries, if not millennia, farther along than ours?"

And Membrane's got to admit: he has found it weird. He has wondered how Zim just leapfrogs over gaps in their scientific knowledge to seemingly create things based on discoveries no one has made yet. Membrane's assumed that he's just using his own research—research he hadn't shared—but maybe...

No. No, that's crazy. Membrane would be crazy to think it. Zim is just a talented, gifted, genius, normal human.

Who is absolutely ravenous for Membrane's praise.

And thaaat's about the point they start dating.

First it's lamenting about the recent difficulties in the lab together. (They've has a lot of resignations lately, wonder why. But no problem, Zim's had some great success automating the more menial tasks with robot labor...) Then it's hanging out discussing Science, because that's definitely what scientists do in their spare time. Then it's occasionally grabbing dinner together. (Zim's got some weird dietary restrictions, probably due to his skin condition, but Membrane can adapt.) Then it's going to scientific conferences together to save money on hotel rooms but oh no the only room left has only one bed so Membrane's sleeping on the very edge of the bed staring at the wall in the dark going oh shit oh fuck oh hell this is an opportunity here but does he like me like me or does he only like me I am a sweaty hormonal 15-year-old experiencing a first crush and don't know what to do with myself because we've never actually discussed whether we're dating or hanging out

(Membrane sleeps in his full lab wear, minus boots but still in socks, under the blankets, like a monster. Zim spread eagles to take up as much of the bed as possible and stares at the ceiling all night because he's not sure what's involved in human sleep besides lying down and being still.)

Things are going great! They're going great. Except the more time Membrane spends with Zim outside of a lab setting, the more strange Membrane realizes he is. Not in a bad way—it's a very attractive strangeness—but more and more he finds himself wondering...

And then Dib admits he snuck into Zim's house (he snuck into Zim's house?!) and found evidence that actually he is here to take over the world, Dib doesn't know why he's handing over so much of his species's technology but it's got to be a trap of some kind, dad, dad, you've gotta believe him, they've gotta do something—

And then Zim escalates the flirting to the point where it's unambiguous. Like, "hand job in the office when the door is closed" escalates.

Hard to misinterpret that.

At that point it's a torrid, very weird love affair, and Membrane is finding himself increasingly and alarmingly unsure whether Zim is actually into him, or is trying to pump him for information on what work is being done at other major global scientific labs—he can't tell whether Zim likes Membrane or just wants Membrane to like him—but whatever the case, Membrane does like him, even if he's finding him increasingly unnerving, and he's constantly getting the impression that even with all Zim's shown off to him, there's even more he's holding back. But how can that be? How can there be more? It doesn't make sense unless Zim really is...

But he's not, he's not. That's crazy, that's crazy, that's crazy.

At one point in bed (they're in bed now—Zim doesn't like to take his clothes off, doesn't want to be touched between his legs, only gets satisfactions from strange touches and strange actions and Membrane isn't actually sure whether he gets off or not or if he's getting something else out of it, and sometimes he doesn't want to be touched at all, sometimes he just touches and watches—)

At one point in bed, Zim hisses a confession that sounds so true and so sincere that it makes every other thing he's ever said sound a bit more untrue by comparison; he says never in his life has he been appreciated like this, never in his life has he been admired, not once until he got here, never, ever, ever—Membrane's not sure if Zim's trying to say he's grateful, trying to say he's flattered, trying to say "I love you," trying to confess some kind of childhood trauma—because he doesn't say anything more than that. But just from that little bit, Membrane is Deeply Moved.

But also unnerved. What did he mean, "until he got here"? Here from where? Did "here" mean Membrane lab? Did "here" mean Earth?

Because as Membrane is trying to deny it, and as hard as Zim's been trying to distract him (oh, god, is that what Zim's been doing, has this all been an attempt to distract Membrane after Dib broke into his house?), the truth is there's a very large part of Membrane that now, after spending a whole lot of personal time with Zim, now thinks there's more evidence than not that Zim is, in fact, an alien.

This horrifies Membrane. Because there's only two possibilities: either he's wrong, or he's right.

If he's wrong, then that means he's gone nuts, he's let his own son suck him into his delusions when as the father it should be his job to help guide his son's mind, help his son tell true from false; and it means he's in no fit mental state to do REAL SCIENCE, he's in no state to be running a lab, he's probably in no state to be raising his own kids, like he's not sure if "does the parent believe one of the people closest to them is an alien" is a criteria for determining whether a child should be taken from the parents but Membrane would certainly not trust that such delusions wouldn't seep into their parenting and for the sake of his kids he has to hold himself to that same standard; and it means that he's wrongly suspecting his own lover of not being human, which, god, what a cruel thing to think, and over what, a skin condition and some odd behavior quirks, it's the twenty-first century equivalent of conflating mental illness with demonic possession, and is there any possible higher injustice he could do to the man he lo— Does he love Zim?

Is Membrane in love?

But if he's right, if he's right, then it means Zim is an alien. It means Zim is an alien masquerading as a human. It means Zim is not some eager young scientist showing off his brilliance, it means he's... what? Is he here to take over the planet, like Dib says? If so, can Membrane trust anything he's ever done or said? Is he flooding Membrane's lab with new inventions because if he replaces human technology with his own then he can control it? Is Dib wrong, is Zim a benevolent alien sharing his technology? Has his relationship with Membrane been a very dedicated ruse to get close to his resources? Or to distract him from the truth? Or to manipulate him into assisting in his alien agenda?

Membrane doesn't know which possibility is worse.

But he can't go on not knowing.

So he goes to Dib and says, you want me to believe Zim's an alien. Here's your opportunity: prove it. Do your very best. Membrane's listening. With... a reasonably open mind, but not so open his brain falls out.

Dib's over the moon.

Membrane's not sure whether he dreads the possibility that Dib's going to pull out a cork board coveted in unrelated conspiracy theory articles and strings connecting them or the possibility that Dib's going to pull out incontrovertible evidence more. But what Dib says is okay it's infiltration time. Wear something stealthy. Lab coats aren't stealthy, dad. Membrane's like oh good great we're breaking and entering now. Well, if he's going to be entertaining mad theories, then he might as well go absolutely off the deep end with it.

So they break into Zim's house.

The underground base is compelling evidence but maybe he's just... he's just got... a really advanced home lab... Membrane's home lab is pretty advanced too. Dib's like dad PLEASE. Look, on that computer over there he's still got the window open for the order page for that new "invention" he showed off at work last week. He bought it on the internet! The ALIEN internet!

While Membrane's still reeling from that, they run into Zim. Sans disguise. Zim's face goes through about twelve emotions in two seconds, starting with Shocked Beyond Words and ending with Time For A Villainous Monologue. He's like SO! You have seen my TRUE FORM!! You're going to try to STOP ME?!?!?! and membrane's like uh I uh I well uh erm that is, if Zim happens to be planning to take over planet Earth in order to hand it over to some kind of alien empire, then no, Membrane isn't going to let him do that. And Zim's like THEN WE ARE ENEMIES!!!!!!! and Membrane's like oh.

A dumb fight is had. Membrane's sort of in over his head, mainly because he's still reeling from the disbelief that he's been dating an alien. It ends with Zim kicking them both out (rather than, say, killing them—which seems a little odd for an alien hellbent on world conquest, doesn't it?) and then crowing "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF ZIM!" and packing up his base and vanishing. He's just gone. Surely he hasn't left Earth, but he's relocating to god knows where and they're gonna have a hell of a time tracking him down now.

Membrane needs to go home and go to sleep. (He doesn't get any sleep.)

So that's phase 1 of the story. Phase 2 is Horrified Membrane and Gleeful Dib teaming up to stop Zim. Membrane gets hauled into the Swollen Eyeball and hates it. ("Where do you work?" "NASA Place." "Oh thank goodness, a fellow man of science! What's your field? Astronomy? Engineering?" "Janitor." "Oh.") Zim encounters are far more sparse because all the How To Human knowledge Zim picked up at the most advanced lab on Earth and while trying to convince Membrane one-on-one that he's definitely a normal human have made him much better at evading detection. And every showdown is... emotionally fraught.

Turns out Zim was suppressing half his personality while pretending to be human. This new real Zim is a lot more maniacal. Maniacal Zim is... unfortunately also hot.

Zim doesn't act like he feels anything for Membrane now. Is that because it was all a ruse, or is he concealing his emotions the way he once concealed his true alien self? Is Membrane really picking up on hints of suppressed attraction and yearning and frustration under his efforts to stop Membrane & Dib from thwarting his efforts—or is that just wishful thinking?

When Zim extends an offer for Membrane to join him, is that to throw him off his game, to manipulate him, or due to a sincere desire to not fight him? Is the offer he makes mid battle between one maniacal laugh and the next different from the offer he makes in the dark two inches behind Membrane's ear in the middle of the night when Membrane thought the house was locked and secure?

Did Zim make any of the wonderful toys he used to so impress Membrane? Is he actually an inventor, a scientist, in any capacity? Is he actually scientifically inclined, or was the vast knowledge he showed off equivalent to kindergarten stuff for his species? (And if his knowledge is extraordinary for a human but ordinary for an alien, is it wrong for Membrane to still find himself drawn toward considering Zim extraordinary anyway?) Is Membrane mistaken, or is Zim even now trying to show off with new toys? Is he wrong, or is there pain under Zim's anger when Membrane accuses him of having imported his weapon of the day?

When he insists that they don't need to fight, if only Zim gave up trying to conquer the world they could have productive SCIENTIFIC EXCHANGES between their species, it doesn't need to end with one of them eliminating the other... is he imagining that Zim actually listens for a moment?

Is he imagining that Zim seems reluctant to permanently harm him?

Is he imagining that Zim still flirts with him mid-battle?

Or is it manipulation? Or is it petty cruelty?

Or is it a wishful delusion?

[virgilvandyke4-blog]

Ding Ding The Bell Rings…# The Re-match

Foreword: During my first fight with Leukaemia, I had this recurring thought of capturing or writing about my fight in some way…why? I’m not sure really, was it to simply help me understand and inspire me through the fight? was it about helping others understand that fight, was it to inspire others undertaking  the same fight? Maybe it was a bit of all of these, what would I write a diary? Journal entries??……either way, sadly, it never happened.

A few days ago a friend made a supportive comment which was in a sporting context, it referred to this latest fight being the second half of the match, or the second leg of the cup tie, I had won the first half or leg and now it was time to win the second and finally knock out my opponent

It was this sporting context that suddenly gave me the clarity about how I wanted to contextualise the writing and it was this that turned out to be the important bit, not the what or why which had been the initial blocker…As Kieran, whose writing is stunning says (I’m probably already doing him a disservice,) sorry mate lol,  it is about the process, allow yourself to have time for  the thoughts, process them, create the context, know it won’t be 100%  right first time but ultimately be brave and get those thoughts down , it will take shape…

A few nights ago pumped on drink and drugs in hospital (lucozade and steroids)…I was lying in bed between 1 am and 3 am listening to music trying to rest but all that was going through my head was these thoughts about this ‘thing’ I wanted to write and as I lay there it started taking shape, it wouldn’t stop, it truly was like a moment I had never really experienced before, it was inspiring, it was exciting, it was clarity….i literally couldn’t FIGHT IT………BANG and there it was the final piece, this wasn’t actually about the second half of a match or a game it was a bloody re-match in a tough gruelling FIGHT…….the context was finally clear. Being unable to fight it I decided to embrace it I turned on my light grabbed my pad and pen and started to scribble…..and I simply couldn’t stop……..I have may not be a student full of £5 curry and cheap warm canned lager from the petrol station but I was gonna pull me one of the those all nighters, and the mad ramblings of Fight One below are the results.

Just writing Fight One has been one of the most inspiring, positive, useful, cathartic things I have ever done…..I really hope you enjoy it and it makes you laugh, or cry, but importantly gives you that little bit of understanding and insight I have always been struggling to share with everyone and if somewhere it helps and inspires anyone going through their own fight, then my work is truly done………….so we begin:

 Fight One July 2013

In order to be able to address and do justice to The Re-match we have to go all the way back to Fight One, so here we go   Ding – Ding Rounds one to three:

The first fight was a very unexpected one, I hadn’t been out there looking for a fight, I was working, I was happy, I was strong, I was running, I was going to the gym, I was enjoying life….but as it was unexpected my devious opponent who had already started was confident of an early stoppage within the first 12 rounds……surely my unknown opponent realised this was not that simple I trained with Brian and ‘The Sterny’s’…I was strong, I was in good shape…the problem was my opponent wasn’t fighting by any rules, it was a devious nasty little sod that didn’t discriminate on age, size strength, sex or even health it had started fighting me a long time before I even knew and was already three rounds into this fight….it had already taken full advantage of by naivety my ignorance and was wreaking havoc….it was a beast of an opponent in those early rounds, moving rapidly, growing in strength, stealthily getting past me, round me, inside me.. constantly increasing its work rate, multiplying its nasty destructive attacks, growing stronger whilst all the time weakening me, I could not understand….but I am strong, I am young, I am healthy, Slowly my defences were coming down, I was slowing down, my breathing laboured, my strength draining, I was confused, what was happening? Why did I feel like this? The bell finally went for the end of round 3. I stumbled back to my stool, hurt? Yes, scared Yes, in pain? Yes…but still on my feet and I wasn’t ready to quit on my stool.

THEN THINGS CHANGED…it was during that break before round 4 that those closest to me, my beautiful family took a knee beside me and said, something’s not right we need to know what, we need to know who you are fighting, at last I left my stubbornness, my pride to the side and agreed . At that point the docs jumped into the ring and ran to my corner checked me over, did some tests and said we know who you are fighting and it’s not great news…It’s Leukaemia..  but it’s OK for you to continue to fight on for the time being, we will be back with more instructions soon….. the bell rang for round four

Ding Ding Round 4        Shrouded in confusion and fear about fighting this beast, but fuelled by feelings of rage and resilience I rose from my stool, pushed myself to the centre of the ring and stood my ground, I woudn’t be moved from here, and I would hold the centre of the ring, waiting for my instructions from the corner. They had said I was OK to fight on so I knew I could counter this beast I just didn’t really know how…hold your ground and trust, take it a minute at a time, just get through the next round. Standing in the centre of the ring, the lights seemed to brighten, I started seeing and army of supporters around me in the crowd, I started hearing that army of supporters, an army of people I loved, people who loved me, all singing and chanting the same messages of support and defiance, telling me that the fight was mine to win. I felt the strength starting to return, the belief, the desire…and for the first time I felt the beast Leukaemia shrink just a little, but it was enough…..yes you are a beast BUT I know who you are now I shouted, we know your strengths, we know your weaknesses, now, for the first time this is a fair fight, we are coming for you….Leukaemia shrank a little more… you will not be my Voldermort…. I will speak your name without fear

The team in the corner led by The Prof started providing the means to fight back. In this fight, it wasn’t about bobbing and weaving, left hooks, straight rights or vicious upper cuts, no, it was something far more effective than that. In this fight drugs are legal, especially when fighting a devious, manipulative, indiscriminate disease like Leukaemia… and so it began, the fight back…different drugs, different doses, taken in different ways, at different times……how do you like that Leukaemia? You feeling confused? Good, are we already starting to weaken you? Oh yes my friend, we are no longer scared of you. The bell rang for the end of round four……but this time I walked back to my stool, square of shoulder and head high. I wanted to stand during that break in the rounds, show my defiance and look leukaemia squarely in the eye, so  it had no doubt that this fight was on the turn, but I still wasn’t strong enough for that

I looked out on to the crowd, that amazing army of supporters, listened to their chants, read the messages they were holding up, tears filled my eyes, their unconditional love and support was overwhelming, humbling but hugely inspiring, surely I couldn’t lose this fight with them at my side…..the bell rang for round 5

Ding Ding round 5       Round 5 and this time it’s the team and I that increase our work rate, growing confident and stronger we increase our attacks, we attack hard, Leukaemia is struggling to cope, it is literally shrinking, reducing, Leukaemia is disappearing before our eyes, the crowd can see it too, their excitement is tangible, our confidence is surging, we completely dominate the round. The team, the crowd and I are completely overwhelming Leukaemia………the bell sounds for the end of round 5

Ding Ding rounds 6,7 and 8   Rounds 6,7 and 8 were pretty much the same as 5, we are dominating, Leukaemia is on its knees. Yeah every now and then it seems to fight back, but maybe that wasn’t Leukaemia, maybe that was me and the team pushing a little too hard, opening me up to little counter attacks, infections, coughs etc. but nothing out of our control nothing to be worried about…….and so to the last two rounds…the championship rounds. The bell rang for round 9

Ding Ding Round 9  I skip to the centre of the ring, strong, confident…but what are our tactics? What do we do? Do we go for the knockout……a stem cell transplant, which carries higher risk and potentially exposes me to attack from a new different infection opponent and possibly gives Leukaemia a chance at the end of a long tough fight or do we continue to keep on our toes and maintain our existing approach keeping Leukaemia on the end of our chemo jabs and see this through with an overwhelming points win?? What do I do? I look to the corner, to my team, they start shouting Jabs, Jabs Jabs, Jabs and so that’s exactly what we did through rounds 9 and 10 we chemo jabbed Leukaemia into submission into remission and there was nothing it could do stop us…. So why did we not go for the knockout? Why did we jab the fight out, well that I don’t remember the answer to, but either way it was all about winning the fight’,that was what mattered But now, after receiving the devastating news of a relapse, it is impossible not to ask yourself the question ‘What if?’, if we had knocked Leukaemia out, maybe it would have ended his fighting days with me and any rematch, no matter how small the chance would have been gone for ever……A rematch? surely not, why would Leukaemia want a rematch? Me, my team, my crowd we battered it from the 4th round onwards. Once we knew who we were fighting, it never won another single round, because they are not a beast, no they are a disgusting, a nasty little coward who can only fight in the dark of your ignorance and self-denial of rounds 1 to 3 ……..But when Leukaemia selects an opponent who stays strong, stays positive, has a strong team and has a crowd, a support, a love at their side, they will be overcome.

The bell rings for the end of the fight, the crowd sings and I stand flanked by my amazing wife and children. My trainer The Prof hands me the only trophy that matters…the trophy of life, and its mine, my families, my friends, its all of ours, it’s the trophy that allows us to continue our journey together, our chance to enjoy each other, follow our dreams,,, this time with a new perspective and the opportunity to use that perspective positively.

I’ve won the fight, I’m strong again in body, but pretty quickly I realise that the mental scars like the physical ones will be carried forever from this day forward.

As the success of winning the fight starts to sink in,  the sound of the crowd starts to slowly silence, though the gentle murmur of the unwavering support is always there and the lights on this particular fight, finally fade away…the thought of any Re-match are the furthest thing from my mind

  #Fightthefight

[marietraverse-blog]

Personal Narrative

Marie Traverse

English Comp 1

Prof. Edward McCulloch

20 September 2018

Trees, Terror, Guilt, Adventure

Hands sweating, sticky sap creating an uncomfortable numb feeling in my palms, I contemplated whether this would be my ultimate demise, being too ambitious. Unsure whether I was glad no one was around, I looked down at my destination and remembered how soon before I had foolishly made my current situation a “destination” which needed to be sought after. Suddenly my contemplation was distracted by panicked yelling.

“CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!” was exclaimed so loudly I almost fell, which would negate the need for the fire department at all. FInally in my sight, my mother seemed to be skipping from my grandmother’s front door, she has a bad leg so “running” is not an accurate term for the way she was moving towards my position, not her usual slow walk, but a panicked gallop almost.

“I’m fine Mom, we don’t need anyone!” I yelled nervously, not wanting my thirst for adventure to cause any inconvenience. I was told time and time again not to climb the tree, “it’s too tall, you’ll get hurt, you’ll get stuck,” they said.

“Pish posh,” I said to that one day. “Seven is plenty old enough to climb trees, I can handle it!” I thought. It did not help that my brother, three years older than me teased me all the time about being tall enough to climb to the first branch, as I was not for, in my mind, a very long time. Shortly after my seventh birthday, feeling like an older kid for the first time, I realized I had grown tall enough to reach the first branch, which would allow me to easily climb to the highest peak of this ancient pine tree. The tree, similar to any other pine tree, stood quite tall compared to short, little me. The bark peeling back at some points revealed the sweet, sticky sap which wafted into my nostrils with each gust of the cool, brisk, autumn wind, making it that much more inviting. Considering no one was around and I really believed in myself, I figured I would climb up and back down with no problem. Then I would quietly and sneakily find my older brother and brag to him that I could finally climb the tree on my own.

The problem came when I arrived at the top. What I had not anticipated, was the climb down being so incredibly intimidating. Going up was easy, like climbing a ladder, each branch conveniently placed right above the next. But going down looked dangerous, branches were swaying in the wind, creaking and cracking with every gust. For some reason the swaying looked lovely from the bottom, like standing at the top of a mountain peak, able to see the whole world with the wind cinematically gusting through my long, brown hair. Now it seemed as if the slightest wrong move with my feet or hands, or a slip caused by shaky, sweaty hands, could send me tumbling down to the bottom, like a barrel plummeting down Niagra Falls. For the first time in my young mind, I had put myself into a dangerous situation even after I was warned not to climb the tree.

The longer I stood at the top the more I could feel the apprehension to make my way down increasing. It seemed like hours but was mere minutes before my mom came trodding down the driveway screaming for my grandma to call the Fire Department. Obviously overreacting, my grandma came out to see what the commotion was about. My grandmother, having raised a daughter and three sons, was slightly annoyed but didn’t panic and, lucky for me, the fire department was not called. Seeing my grandma come out of the house was all the motivation I needed to begin the terrifying descent.

I could not recall a time my hands shook so violently and involuntarily. The terror and guilt seemed to manifest itself right in my core, behind my stomach, directly into my soul, maybe. It was perhaps the first time I had felt such a strong feeling which I was not familiar with and was unsure how to deal with it. Being an overly emotional, confused, seven year old at the top of a fifty foot pine tree, it was probably not a great time to discover these new emotions and thoughts. With sensational lucidity, I recall advising myself to stop thinking and just start climbing.

The first branch was the worst as towards the top, the branches thinned, and as I stepped down, the branch nearly collapsed under my weight. Luckily I was grasping a thick handhold above me and was able to swing my legs to a different, more sturdy branch. At this point my mom was still screaming wildly, protesting my every move, and my brother was inside watching television, not even slightly interested in the feat I had put myself through to impress him. My grandmother, perhaps the only sane and rational party at the time, yelled that she would search for a ladder as my mom screamed and I continued shakily down the tree. My body was covered in sap and ticks, not really a concern in my mind, but my hair kept sticking to my face. Sap and sweat create an odd sensation that is both unforgettable and unforgiving; it took days to get all the sap off of me.

“Nick’s on his way with a ladder,” my small, red-headed, Polish grandma calmly walked over to my mother, and the tree, and I was able to see the disappointment on her face with startling clarity.

“Oh thank goodness,” my mom was finally able to take a breath and stop screaming obscenities. A sense of dread washed over me when I heard what was happening. Nearly halfway down the tree at this point, I screamed,

“NO TELL HIM TO GO BACK!” The last thing I wanted was to ruin someone else’s day for my dumb decision. However it was already too late. Just as I had reached the bottom branch and all I had to do was hop down about four feet, my uncle pulled up in his white pickup truck with his tall, metal, house painting ladder in the back. More guilt and terror washed over me with an unexplainable intensity with the thought of making my uncle leave in the middle of his job, only to find I had already made it down.

“Guess I won’t be needing that,” my Uncle Nick chuckled, pointing to the ladder as he walked over and evaluated the situation, “Your grandmother made it sound like you were at the top of a Redwood!” he said to me. Glad he wasn’t angry, I smiled and cheekily said,

“Yeah not yet!” as my uncle easily lifted me from the tree onto the ground.

“Rescue mission complete! Now I’ve gotta get back to work!” After a brief laugh and high-five, just as quickly as he had arrived, my uncle was off, back to finish a normal day.

Being only seven, this was probably my first experience of imminent danger and guilt. This fact was made worse with the knowledge that I had put myself here, this was my fault, I caused panic and inconvenience. I felt bad. Before this, I was a relatively safe child who did what I was told, did not do was I was told not to do, and watched my older brother do the complete opposite. He would do what he was told not to do and made fun of me for being boring and not adventurous. Finally a chance to prove myself courageous, I climbed the tree and ultimately screwed myself over and scared myself away from adventure for a few more years, until I was left completely unsupervised, with no chance of the fire department being called.

Adventure is something people crave from the time they are toddlers and everything around them is new and exciting, to adults who desire to experience something out of the ordinary. To this day, I love hiking in the woods and finding trees to climb, the higher the better. Nothing is more invigorating to me than standing at the top of a mountain peak or balancing on a tree stump leaning over a waterfall. Humans are naturally curious about the unknown or unseen world around them. As a seven-year-old I could not imagine what the world looked like from that little squirrel’s point of view at the top of the tree so I decided to see for myself. I believe curiosity of the unknown is what pushes people to discover their potential and live the best life possible. I know I will never stop climbing trees and I will never turn down an adventure because I will never stop being curious about the world around me.

[oswald-hanciles-posts]

AN EXTRACT FROM A PIECE BY OSWALD HANCILES 👇👇👇

*It is in Sierra Leone that those who fought as armed combatants or 'pen combatants' would be pushed aside when peace is restored; and those who fled the conflict and luxuriated in the West; those who took refuge in tertiary classrooms and acquired citizenship in Europe and United States; those who were blind, deaf, and dumb during the ten years of the brutish and nauseous civil war that raged between 1991 and 2000... would suddenly emerge as 'Messiahs'.....*

🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

OSWALD HANCILES OUT THERE. MLK REACTS TO THAT *ASTERISK* BIT.

Oswald Hanciles,

It is to this *asterisk* that I hereby react below:

*There are no "Messiahs" emerging*, and if it is so, then, it is for the right reasons.

Some of us fled Sierra Leone because it was the best option at the time. No crime was committed by any diasporan today for doing so. Every sensible people did so in their lifetime when the need was inevitable, like Abraham, like Moses, like Joshua, like Jesus was moving away from his enemies and even prayed to escape anything ugly from those enemies (Matthew 26.39), like prophet Muhammad had to flee to Abyssinia, etc.

So, to run away from potential death is wisdom - for which diasporans of today are not an exception.

It would only be a problem or wrong and therefore inexcusable if those in the Diaspora today are making statements to causing war or unrest for our country like Gibril Bangura, Adebayor, Emmanuel and Hassan Kamara are doing - when they are thousands of miles away from home - it is this that is wrong and unpardonable.

I pause.

MLK

Mohamed Lamin Kargbo: I now react to your posting forwarded to the SLAVE SHIP-FREEDOM SHIP Group 1 forum by UK-based Sierra Leonean, Issa Martyn Kanu, presently visiting his home country of Sierra Leone.

I thank you for QUOTING my words that you premise your counter to. That's decent. That's ethical.

You wrote thus: "Some of us fled Sierra Leone because it was the best option at the time. No crime was committed by any diasporan today for doing so. Every sensible people did so in their lifetime when the need was inevitable, like Abraham, like Moses, like Joshua, like Jesus was moving away from his enemies...like prophet Muhammad had to flee to Abyssinia, etc.".

Thankfully, you have quoted my words verbatim; and even put them in Bold. My words did not state, or, imply, it would be a "crime" to have fled Sierra Leone. I poured contempt on those who fled Sierra Leone for the West and "were blind, deaf, and dumb during the ten years of our brutish and nauseous civil war that raged between 1991 and 2002..."; those who at the end of the civil war in 2002, a lot of names those of us who fought in Sierra Leone never knew existed...between 2002 and 2012... "would suddenly emerge as 'Messiahs'...". Let me call names.

During the Darkest Years of our civil war, when RUF rebels and AFRC sobels would have murdered and dismembered those opposed to them, anybody even obliquely opposed to their murderous ideology there were just a handful of Sierra Leoneans showing their faces to speak up or write against evil. One such persons was "Zainab Bangura", who was foreign minister, then, health minister, in the first term government of former President Ernest Bai Koroma (2007 to 2012).

Everybody knew "Zainab" in those days - irrepressible; indefatigable. Let me rewrite something here about "Zainab". It was the first week of December of 1998. There was palpable fear in Freetown. The rumour was stronger every minute that the RUF rebels and AFRC sobels would attack Freetown. Civil society organized a mammoth demonstration to show support for the SLPP government of President Tejan Kabbah. The vast crowds from across the Freetown Peninsula gathered around Cotton Tree, and infront of the Law Court building. "Zainab" - then executive head of the Campaign for Good Governance NGO - was one of the those who addressed the crowd. She stirred the crowd with these words: "If the men are too cowardly to go and fight the rebels, we the women will tie our lappas and go out there to confront the rebels". It was not just empty words. Civil society was working on plans to facilitate military training for youth to defend Freetown against imminent RUF rebel and AFRC sobel invasion of Freetown. Less than a month after she had spoken those challenging words to the murderous rebels, the rebels took over Freetown. She was an obvious target! She was an elite. She could have fled the country in 1998 - like the vast majority of the elite did in 1998.

Among the cream of the APC elite in the government of President Ernest Bai Koroma, the only other person I could remember apart of Zainab who reared his head in those Dark Days was Dr. Mohamed Gibril Sesay, the Minister of State-1 in the foreign ministry between 2016 and 2018 - who was a writer in The Democrat newspaper in 1998. (Victor Foh was visible in 1997/1998 - albeit, vehemently supporting the AFRC sobels and RUF rebels after he had been made "Executive Chairman of the Board" of SIERRATEL telecommunications company; an act for which he was subsequently prosecuted, convicted, and sentenced to death).

After Ernest Bai Koroma had won the 2007 presidential election, the 'Messiahs' emerged - Khadija Sesay, Kemoh Sesay, Alpha Khan, Logos Koroma, Minkailu Mansaray, Minkailu Bah, Kelfala Marrah, etc....etc. ('Messiahs' who have nearly all fled the country again ; or, are muted....).

Are there similar 'Messiahs' who only few into Sierra Leone when Retired Brigadier Maada Bio won the 2018 presidential election? Energy minister, Kanja Sesay, stood loyally and visibly with Maada Bio after he lost the 2012 presidential election - within Sierra Leone. Alpha Wurie, health minister (who for eleven years was education minister in the SLPP government of President Tejan Kabbah), stayed quietly in Freetown managing his RAMSY laboratory during the ten years of the Koroma presidency. (Man dem nar bin know sef say Alpha dae Freetong!). Primary school minister, Alpha Timbo, was a warrior in the trenches during the civil war years of the 1990s; and he stayed in Sierra Leone over the past ten years fighting for the SLPP. Who ever heard of "Prof. David Francis" in Sierra Leone before President Maada Bio appointed him "Chief Minister" last year?

It is impossible for me to deride those who fled the country and lived and worked in the Diaspora over the past thirty years. I was one of them. After graduating from FBC, University of Sierra Leone, in June, 1978, I left the country for Liberia in January of 1979. For seventeen straight years I was in self-exile in Liberia and Nigeria. I was 'made to return' by security agents of the Federal Republic of Nigeria in February, 1995. I did not posit myself as a 'Messiah' when I returned. I earned my unions as a pen combatant in our Darkest Days.

Sierra Leone desperately needs to harness the powers of its citizenry in the Diaspora. The APC government of President Ernest Bai Koroma established a "Diaspora Office" at State House. It achieved almost nothing positive. There was too much fixation by APC partisans in the Diaspora jetting into Freetown and flaunting their American and Brutish accents to easily get senior positions in government. There was very little 'import' of Sierra Leoneans from the Diaspora with quality educational backgrounds and solid professional experiences - as doctors, engineers, bankers, IT specialists, entrepreneurs, etc.

For over 6 years in the APC years of former President Ernest Bai Koroma, Amadu Massaly, championed an innovative programme he called "DENI", along with a white-haired Kenyan US-trained Actuary, Fred Kwoba: the idea was to harness the dollars of Sierra Leoneans in the Diaspora to invest in businesses in Sierra Leone. With the famous Alpha Khan (Kanu) as the focal person in the APC government to give traction to the DENI idea, it never gained moved forward. The Kenyan, Fred Kwoba, never got tired of expressing his incredulity that the government of Sierra Leone never gave momentum to the DENI idea. I hope that Amadu Massaly will rekindle this noble idea. (I wrote several promotional pieces on it DENI in the THE OSWALD HANCILES COLUMN; and attended DENI meetings presided over by Hon. Alpha Kanu, when he was a cabinet minister).

The President of the Republic of Sierra Leone, Retired Brigadier Maada Bio, has made one of his promotional mantras harnessing of the human resources of Sierra Leone. From what I have been told, there is a vast reservoir of rare utilitarian and marketable knowledge among Sierra Leoneans in the Diaspora: the President has to provide leadership to stimulate the complex variables to lure these Sierra Leoneans back home. Living in the Diaspora, Mohamed Lamin Kargbo; with your profusion on social media; with your aggressive support for the Bio Administration, you can play a vital role in this sphere of harnessing the still largely virgin Diaspora Power.

In your following words, we sing from the same hymn sheet: It "would... be... inexcusable if those in the Diaspora today are making statements to causing war or unrest for our country like the Gibril Bangura, Adebayor, Emmanuel and Hassan Kamara are doing - when they are thousands of miles away - it is this that is wrong and unpardonable".

"WRONG AND UNPARDONABLE"‼‼‼‼

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing": words attributed to the Anglo-Irish philosopher, MP, author, orator, Edmund Burke... in the 18th century. It is not just that the Gibril Banguras are spewing poisoned rhetoric into Sierra Leone with the overt goal of triggering an ethnic war, they are probably being emboldened by the relative SILENCE of the learned elite in the Diaspora: The Sierra Leonean medical doctors and academic doctors; the Sierra Leonean lawyers, engineers, bankers, hoteliers, etc.

Continue being vociferous in championing positive causes in Sierra Leone; but, temper your profusion and energy with humility - especially when you have to engage with "Home-Based" warriors like Oswald Hanciles of whom you know very little. Too many Sierra Leoneans in the Diaspora who make sweeping statements about governments, and governance, in Sierra Leone have had little experience in government anywhere - being in the periphery of societies in the West they live in. I am amused when some of our brothers and sisters put over their heads the halo of Christ-like honesty as they acidly denounce all who have served in government; when they themselves have never been TESTED with power in Africa; are very very very far away from the epicenter of power in the West, even if they have worked in government there. You guys simply have no inkling of the intoxicating power of the presidency; have no idea of the awesome powers of a President!! Especially in poverty-stricken Africa!!

I pause,

Oswald Hanciles, The Guru.

July 2, 2019

15: 39 hours in Freetown, Sierra Leone

[didanawisgi]

This feature on statins and their adverse reactions was published in Dutch on January the 10th 2004, in AD Magazine, the weekend magazine of the newspaper Algemeen Dagblad. The article led to furious attacks on the author. In a primetime television show doctors and peer journalists accused him for deliberately spreading false, biased and potentially deadly information. He finally ended up in the Dutch Press Council, accused by a pharma-sponsored patient organization. The Council concluded: ‘Although the article is coloured, the author presented enough journalistic evidence to write such a piece’. The accusation was called unfounded. Despite this judgement and although the article elicited hundreds of reactions from readers (among them doctors) who reported severe side effects, the item has never been followed up.

 Statins - Miracle drug or tragedy?

by Melchior Meijer

Statins, drugs that lower our ’bad’ cholesterol, are being prescribed like if it were aspirin. Not only in ‘crazy’ America, also in the Netherlands. This year we swallow for about 320 million Euro and the trend points up, not in the least place thanks to our rapidly aging population. The golden milk cow of the pharmaceutical industry is saving lifes. Claims the industry. Say also most doctors. But a growing group of concerned scientists starts sending out SOS signals. “Statins prevent a few heart attacks, but they also cause chronic heart failure,” says a cardiologist. A colleague: “I think people taking those drugs should be really, really alert.”

Are you on Lipitor? Congratulations! By taking Lipitor (…) you are on the right track to healthy cholesterol levels. On Pfizers Dutch website, those who just got a prescription for the popular cholesterol drug Lipitor are welcomed like the Long Lost Son. The message is cristal clear: do exactely as Pfizer says – which usually means taking the drug for the rest of your life – and the feared black limousine will pass your front door for decades to come. On the background fit and active babyboomers ride there bicycles and have a good time. Together we will beat the bloody cholesterol. Join the club!

Lipitor (atorvastatin) is just one of the excellent selling members of the family of HMG-CoA reductase inhibitors, most often called ‘statins’. In 1987, pharmaceutical giant Merck was first to launch this drug under the name Mevacor (lovastatine). Mevacor was nothing short of a revolution. Finally it was possible to normalize even very high levels of cholesterol. Popping just one pill a day did the trick. Gone were the days of the weird, inhumane diets, limiting the patients cuisine to cardboard bread and carrots. No more bitter powders, making you feel terribly sick. And what was even better: statines didn’t affect  the ‘good’ HDL cholesterol.

Now, seventeen years later, all the big pharmaceutical companies market their own statin. Some are a bit more potent than others, but they all basically do the same thing. Millions of people all over the world are obediantly taking their daily Zocor, Lipitor, Lescol, Crestor, Pravachol and several no name clones. ”Statins are the new aspirin,” researcher Rory Collins recently proclaimed in the medical journal The Lancet, referring to the ‘terrific’ outcome of his Heart Protection Study.

This seven-year lasting trial among 20.000 Britons, partially paid by Merck, showed that statins offer everybody a slight protection from getting a heart attack. The eldery, the young, men, women, people with very high cholesterol levels and people with normal or even low levels. Our own expert on atherogenesis Prof. Dr. Anton Stalenhoef from Nijmegen University expressed himself a little subtler, but nevertheless welcomed the results as ‘tremendously positive’. He rather calls statins ‘the new penicillin’. It must be quite nice to be employed by companies like Merck, Astra-Zeneca, Novartis and Pfizer these days. It looks like their cholesterol lowering treatments à 1000 Euro per person and year will get unmatched sales within the coming years.

There are, however, physicians and scientists who watch the crusade of this lucrative miracle pill with Argus eyes. In prominent medical journals they warn against negative side effects of long time use. Their doubts are not exactly benign. Using statins could over time promote cancer, chronic heart failure and memory problems, they say; side effects that we don’t find in the information receipt.

A heart medicine causing heart failure? Early 2002, a group of  Australian cardiologists appealed in The American Journal of Cardiology for an independent study into this supposed, paradoxical ‘side effect’. Chronic heart failure, a disabling disease in which the heart muscle slowly but steadily loses its ability to pump, is becoming more and more common in the western world. So common, that it can not be explained by the increasing age of the population and the growing number of people surviving an acute heart problem, according to the authors of the article. They add that ‘observant doctors all over the world suspect a role for the generously prescribed statins’.

This suspicion is of course not falling out of the bright blue sky. “Statins make victims – a lot of victims – and by now it’s pretty clear how they do it,” is the bold comment of cardiologist Dr. Peter Langsjoen from Tyler, Texas, USA. Langsjoen gave up an attractive career in a university hospital to dedicate his competence to what he calls ‘statin induced congestive heart failure’. Langsjoen: “Statins block the enzyme HMG CoA-reductase.

This enzyme is responsible for the production of a substance called ‘mevalonate’. Mevalonate on its turn is the precursor of both cholesterol and co-enzyme Q10. This Q10 – also called ubiquinone because it is involved in myriads of physiological processes – is essential for the function of the mitochondria, the energy plants in our cells. Someone using statins, not only deprives the body from cholesterol, but also from a great deal of the Q10 normally being produced. The higher the statin dose, the less of both essential factors will be available to the body. The cells most depending on Q10 are those from the nerve system, the skeletal muscles, but particularly those from the heart muscle. Heart muscle cells literally stuff themselves with Q10. If they don´t get enough, they’ll say goodnight sooner or later. That’s the moment the patient presents with symptoms of heart failure. Older statin users will develop dangerously low levels within 6 to 12 months. For younger people it might take several years before problems manifest.”

What are those symptoms? Mainly extreme tiredness and muscle and joint pain, according to Langsjoen. Later on, shortness of breath may follow. “I see 2 to 3 new cases of statin induced heart failure per week in my practice. The first things I do are to measure their Q10 levels and improve them with a supplement. By the way, in Japan supplementing Q10 is a routine intervention in patients with congestive heart failure. The treatment is well documented.”

Last year Langsjoen published own research in which he observed that two thirds of elder statin users show signs of ‘diastolic dysfunction’, one of the first signs of heart failure, after only six months of therapy. ”Physicians are prescribing these drugs with reckless abandon. We’re talking about extremely tricky stuff.”

In the summer of 2001 a striking amount of people ‘suddenly’ died of rhabdomyolysis, a ‘rare but very serious side effect of statin use’. All these people were on Baycol/Lipobay (cerivastatin), a statin that Bayer introduced three years earlier. When an aggressive strategy of denial didn’t work, the company saw no other way out than to take the pill that was meant to be their flagship from the market.

Was Baycol/Lipobay so much more dangerous than her sisters from the competitors? “It was a very potent statin,” explains Langsjoen. “But Pfizers’ Lipitor is only a little bit less potent and is thus only killing a little fewer people. A statin is a statin.” After the Baycol/Lipobay incident a group of scientists, lead by the Italian biochemist Gian Paolo Littarru, send a petition to the FDA and to the health authorities from the EU. From this petition: “It is possible that the reported statin related deaths are the top of an iceberg. (….) The extent of the observed statin induced Q10 deprivation should not be underestimated. There are indications that we doctors, with the best intentions, are creating a life-threatening situation in million of healthy patients. Conclusive research shows that supplementing this humble molecule could prevent tremendous suffering and costs.”

Would the pharmaceutical companies, with all the competence and technology they can buy, really not know what individual physicians ascertain with quite simple means? Do they possess unknown information, showing that those worried doctors got hold of the wrong end of the stick?

All too keen curiosity from outsiders is not appreciated in this business. An inquisitive person will not get real information, unless using illegal methods. But we may safely assume that the industry is aware of this hitch. Merck & Co Inc. deposited the patents US 4929437 respectively US 4933165 on the 29th of May and the 12th of June 1990, both stating: A pharmaceutical composition comprising a pharmaceutical carrier and an effective antihypercholerolemic amount of an HMG-CoA reductase inhibitor and an amount of Co-enzyme Q10 effective to couteract HMG-CoA reductase inhibitor-associated skeletal muscle myopathy.Merck claimed the exclusive rights to a combination drug of a statin and Q10. The vital combination was never realised. Apparently Merck didn’t want to make the combination drug, the competitors could not do it.

“We are at the beginning of the biggest medical tragedy that mankind ever witnessed,” cardiologist Langsjoen says. “Never before in history has the medical establishment knowingly created a life threatening nutrient deficiency in millions of otherwise healthy people, only to sit back with arrogance and horrific irresponsibility and watch to see what happens. I cannot help to view my once great profession with a mixture of sorrow and contempt.”

Why does the pharmaceutical industry keep a simple formula that might prevent a disaster and in the worst case does no harm, off the market? Within the relatively small group of independent physicians and scientists discussing this matter openly, one explanation prevails. “A combination pill has to go through all the clinical trials again,” speculates biochemist Christian Allan, former worker on the National Institutes of Health, in the discussion forum of The International Network of Cholesterol Skeptics (THINCS). “They would have to form four groups. One group gets a placebo, one group takes the combination drug, one group gets the plain statin, and one group gets only Q10. Now, smaller studies have shown clear cardiovascular benefits of Q10-supplementation. The trial might thus find that the people in the Q10-only arm do just as fine or even better than the groups taking the combination or the statins.

This must be a nightmare for the industry. They would invest a fortune, only to prove that a ‘useless’ supplement is as effective and above all a lot safer than their multi billion dollar designer drug.” And why would the industry take such a risk? The worried scientists observe a ‘huge professional ignorance’ in the field. A majority of physicians isn’t even aware of the fact that Q10 plays a crucial role in cellular energy production. Cardiologist Langsjoen: “They think it´s some kind of snake oil, in the same category as shark cartilage and apple vinegar.”

To make one thing perfectly clear, statins do offer some protection against our number one cause of death, myocardial infarction. This protection is independent of cholesterol reduction. People with low levels profit just as much as people with high levels, while those whose LDL-levels remain quite high are having the best prognosis.

Coincidentally statins possess strong anti-inflammatory properties and are able to stabilize the atherosclerotic plaques responsible for heart attacks. This does safe lives. But the drug companies really understand the business on the fair. Without lying, they paint a somewhat misleading picture; a matter of playing with numbers. A nice example is WOSCOPS, which examined the effect of pravastatin in healthy people with very high cholesterol levels. In The Netherlands, this group is almost automatically put on lifelong statin therapy. In his ads the manufacturer presents an impressive 25 percent risk reduction.

But what does this imply? Were there 25 more heart deaths in the group not taking the drug? Not at all. After five years 98.8 percent of the patients taking Pravachol were still alive. In the placebo group ‘only’ 98,4 percent was still alive and kicking. The relative risk reduction – the difference between 1.2 and 1.6 – is indeed 25 percent, a difference just being statistically significant. This modest effect is overshadowed by several studies showing a quite sinister cancer mortality in the treated groups.

Notorious is the so-called CARE trial. Twelve women in the statin group developed breast cancer, compared to only one in the control group. Another large study, the EXCEL project starring Merck’s lovastatine, was stopped after only eleven months, when the Mevacor group was producing 275 percent more deaths, mainly from cancer.

In animal models statin therapy almost invariably causes cancer and an untimely death, but according to the industry it is impossible to extrapolate such ‘hard endpoints’ to people. The same argument they use with regard to a Swiss study, recently published in Nature Medicine. It showed that Lipitor, Mevacor and Provachol effectively knock out the T-Helper cells, the Special Forces of the immune system. The authors find statins immunosupressive potency so impressive, that they see a role in transplantation patients. Great. For patients receiving a ‘new’ organ. But would a healthy baby boomer with a little high cholesterol happily accept a knocked down defence system? Some cancers love depressed immune systems. In 1996 scientists Newman and Hulley wrote in the Journal of the American Medical Association, regarding the cancer risk: ‘The experiments done to date suggest that statin treatment should be avoided, except in patients with a high and immediate risk of [a heart attack.]’

Dr. Jörgen Vesti-Nielsen, a physician from Karlshamn, Sweden, recently pointed out two possible mechanisms for the suggested cancer-promoting effect. In a discussion with colleagues he states: ‘In a low dose, statins stimulate angiogenesis, the formation of new blood vessels. Tumors need nutrients and thus blood for their growth. They depend on a widespread network of tiny vessels. Without the rapid formation of such a network, a tumour cannot even develop. Any substance stimulating the production of new vessels helps to start and spread cancer.

Moreover, a Finnish study suggests that statins make cells less sensitive to insulin. Who would still deny that insulin resistance is an important mechanism behind several cancer forms?’ Very high doses of statins seem to suppress angiogenesis. However, the vast majority of people with a moderate risk of cardiovascular problems are put on a lifelong low dose treatment.

To his great despair, former astronaut and retired NASA-physician Dr. Duane Graveline from Florida, lost all the memories of his adult life two times. Both times, it happened about five weeks after he was put on Lipitor. The staff in the emergency room told him he had suffered episodes of Transient Global Amnesia, a rare condition, not registered as a side effect of statin use. Graveline became extremely concerned, knowing that his problem could be a sign of a beginning dementia. Until he spoke to Dr. Beatrice A. Golomb, a neuroscientist looking for unknown side effects of statins. She made clear to him that he certainly is not the only statin user who all of a sudden fell into a ‘big black hole for a couple of hours’. Golomb, collecting data on behalf of the National Institutes of Health, will publish the results of an independent study in 2004. After a media announcement Golomb got hundreds of reactions from patients and doctors. She is convinced about a causative relation between the use of statins and TGA and other cognitive problems.

Are Graveline, Golomb and other doctors being haunted by imaginary terrors? In the data the manufacturers have to present if they want approval for a new drug, Transient Global Amnesia is not mentioned. Wouldn’t such a grave problem show up immediately? Biochemist and ‘debunker of fraud in medical science’  Joel M. Kaufmann from the University of Philadelphia (Prof. Emeritus) examined some reports and found a hardly flattering explanation. “Pharmaceutical companies sometimes split up one serious side effect into several minor side effects, in order to prevent their drug from not being approved,” he recently told the audience of a conference. “This is an established method to keep really alarming adverse effects below the 1 percent level.” Transient Global Amnesia can be split into such categories like confusion, memory weakness, senility, dementia and impaired cognitive function. One serious and rather common problem, simply falls apart in several relatively benign side effects. A smart trick that the authorities evidently not always unmask.

To swallow or not to swallow, that’s the question for almost 5 percent of our nation. Nefarma, the Organization for Dutch Pharmaceutical Companies participating in Scientific Research, asserts not to be aware of any prospective problems. When confronted with the alarming petition of biochemist Littarru and colleages, a spokesperson refers to the chief Communications and Public Relations. Why is Merck just ‘sitting’ on these patents for so long? Why doesn’t the industry inform physicians about the potentially harmful effect of blocking the Q10-synthesis? The ‘chief’ still owes an answer. During the weeks we tried to get in contact with her, she had constantly ‘just left the building’. No reaction, not even an e-mail back.

“If your doctor prescribes it, you can be sure the advantages far outweigh the risks,” says a spokesperson for the Dutch Association for Family Physicians. It depends which way around you look at it. Dr. Marshall E. Deutsch, an expert on cholesterol who studied the effect of low fat diets in children, puts it as follows: “The total mortality in the treated groups is – despite all the fuss –  not less than in the groups not getting statins. Even in patients with very high cholesterol levels, the gains are meagre. Besides, the available data indicate that total mortality will rise disproportionally after seven years of treatment. If you absolutely don’t want to knock on Petrus’ gate with a heart attack –  if you prefer to attend the final party with cancer, chronic heart failure, a stroke, a rope around your neck or whatever ailment – you’d better take statins. If you don’t care how you die, if the quality of your remaining years means more to you, then statins might be a bad idea. To jump out of a plane without a parachute offers excellent protection against cancer. But it has such a devastating effect on total mortality, that no sane doctor will use it as an intervention. I do hope the future will tell us that this comparison was misplaced. But it might not.”