#this is not an attack on anybody this is an invitation to understand where critical perspectives are coming from
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seeing nightheart arguments again as with every asc release so once again, a reminder that when people say "nightheart's arc (or that of any other warrior cats character for that matter) is sexist", 99% of the time they are not calling the character, themselves, within the universe, a misogynist. nightheart in the books does not hate women. liking nightheart is not misogyny. what IS sexist there is the choices the authors make when they are writing a character. because at the end of the day, the characters themselves are not real.
in nightheart's case, at the start of his story almost every female character in his life (sparkpelt, finchlight, squirrelflight, lilyheart, myrtlebloom, etc) was written as being needlessly cruel to him, in spite of their own characters, and the male characters in his life (bramblestar, alderheart, bayshine) were written as far kinder or more reasonable towards him. the issue was not the FACT people were being mean to him, but the blatant trend and malicious gendered stereotypes going on with how it was handled.
"but they've been redeemed by Thunder! they're all being nicer to him now!" yeah, but isn't it super fucking weird that it was written like that in the first place? that finchlight changed personality like the weather when she should have been a prominent enough character to have an established one, that sparkpelt needs to redeem herself for absences in squirrelflight's hope and tbc that were unfairly out of her control and were not even considered an issue until now it's convienent to make her son sad, that squirrelflight was treated as antagonistic and cruel over asking her adult grandson to do some chores or whatever?
"but that's the author's fault, not the character's!" the character is not real though. he doesn't have feelings that can be hurt, what is there are the words on the page, and a lot of people will look at a character's arc rather than imagining them as a real person or making up headcanons to fill in gaps. there is also nothing wrong with people disliking a character you like. that is always going to happen forever.
"so are you saying i'm sexist because i like or relate to nightheart?" no, nobody is saying this. nightheart is an insecure angsty young adult protagonist in a tonally silly book series who has a complicated relationship with his family and gets into relationship drama, of course a bunch of people are going to latch on to him, and there's nothing wrong with that. i know a ton of nightheart fans. people criticising him is not a personal attack on you or anyone.
"you're looking into this too deeply" man this is warrior cats tumblr, what are any of us doing here. sometimes engaging critically with a text is fun. sometimes, texts have genuine flaws and harmful biases within their writing and it's useful to learn to identify and analyse them. warrior cats is not and never will be peak literature and i don't think anybody expects it to be but that doesn't mean people aren't allowed to take critical approaches to it on anything more than a surface level.
#long post#asc#this is not an attack on anybody this is an invitation to understand where critical perspectives are coming from#you can enjoy a character while acknowledging flaws in their writing. it's okay.
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hi, hello, op here. this is astrid becke, upcoming subject of the Complicated Women podcast as run by wanda childa. she is an antagonist npc tied into the backstory of a player character in the second campaign of critical role (aka d20’s cousin)
astrid becke was a teenage girl that was allowed into a magic school that trained its students to be evil wizard cops. she was beaten, tortured, starved and isolated from the outside world for years with only her two other friends (another npc and the pc) to keep her company. she and her friends graduated by slaughtering their own parents. the pc however snapped and attacked her in the process, leaving her with a massive scar to remember him by as he was framed and locked in an asylum, blamed for being a crazy serial killer who murdered everyone’s parents to keep both her and the other pc from getting caught.
astid is now fully an adult evil wizard cop in the present day of the campaign, but is still deeply rattled by what happened to her. she’s a threat, sure, but the pc talks about her with such reverence and kindness you forget that. and even when we see her threaten him one-on-one at a party, the dm describes her leaving the party and then immediately sobbing because she’s overwhelmed with emotions from seeing him again. even when she works directly with the bbeg to try and murder the party they never once treat her as just as bad as the bbeg and the worst they act is being mildly sassy at a dinner party that the beg invites them to. astrid even fights alongside him in the final battle, but she changes her mind and helps the party imprison him.
but then what? is she murdered in cold blood after that because how dare she work with him? no, she’s comforted. the other party members pull her aside and while she does get punished by having to clean up the mess they’d made of a sacred temple (long story) they have empathy and extend kindness towards her. one of them even says she’s a good person and they believe in her.
and when another party (played by the same cast sans one) stumbles across her hiding from the law, be it either the fact that the players have zero ill-will towards her and understand where she’s coming from or the fact all of their new characters have no clue who she is, the only reason they’re opposed to her is that they were told she might have information on the current villain they’re facing. they aren’t trying to kill her or punish her, and once they get the info they need, they leave her in peace.
astrid becke was in 9 episodes of critical role, and in those 9 episodes had been given more grace than i think all the ratgrinders had combined. but fandom fucking hated her ass because she worked for the bad guy and gets in the way of shipping the pc with another unrelated male npc who arguably did waaaaaay worse shit and apologized/made up for exactly zero of it. but hey, at least the people that made the show acknowledge that both of them kind of suck in the exact same way!
it’s times like this i’m reminded of a tag i saw on a post that read "every time matthew mercer/critical role screws up people forget brennan isn’t white" and oh boy did it show in a lot of the meta posts i saw floating about. dude’s not perfect and he can fumble a story just as much as anybody else. obviously it doesn’t make him an awful person for making a dissatisfying story, but it doesn’t mean you can say he’s a decolonial philosopher just to defend the story because you liked it.
she's so crazzzzzzzy! love her!!!
#🍃#to my followers i apologize if it's weird i didn't name any of the other characters but a lot of d20 fans dgaf about cr#so you know keeping it light with only one character name to keep track of
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When Bryony met Meghan..
In a small, sparse room at the back of a bakery on the urban streets of Camden, north London, the Duchess of Sussex is comforting a crying woman.
Tanya’s tears fall over the scars that will remain on her cheeks for the rest of her life; stark reminders of the violent ex partner who is now serving a lengthy prison sentence after he stabbed her repeatedly.
Tanya is explaining what this, the bakery that doubles as a social enterprise, has done for her since that terrible day back in 2016. By a cruel twist of fate it was International Women’s Day when her attacker lay in wait for her outside the doors of the London university she was studying at.
Tanya had been a victim of domestic violence for a decade. “Society judges women for staying in abusive relationships,” she says to me and the Duchess. “But I don’t ever feel judged here. I feel I can be free. I feel I can be myself.”
Here is the Luminary Bakery, a small, grass roots organisation that helps to empower disadvantaged women through training and employment opportunities.The Duchess has been a supporter of the enterprise for some time; featuring them in the issue of Vogue that she guest-edited, and today she has invited me to join her on a private visit to the bakery’s newly-opened second branch, to meet some of the inspirational women that Luminary supports.
In this small room, I watch as the Duchess puts Tanya and her friend Giselle at ease.
“One of the things I have realised since being here [in the UK],” begins Meghan, “is that people have an expectation when I’m coming somewhere, so I’m like, let’s just be really relaxed, keep everyone nice and chilled, because at the end of the day we’re all just women. We all have a story to tell, and I feel honoured that I am getting to hear yours.”
The effect on Giselle and Tania is immediate. Giselle tells us about her history of drug abuse and homelessness, about ending up in prison, and about how coming here to train gave her a much needed opportunity to turn things around. The duchess, or Meghan as she prefers to be called, listens intently.
When was the first moment you thought ‘this is going to change me, on the inside ?” She asks Giselle. “When you realised that this was not just about learning to bake, that there was another element to it?”
It was the moment when the girls around me told me that it was OK for me to be hurt,” says Giselle. “That it was ok for me to show them that I was hurt, and that I was struggling.”
“They gave you permission, right?” Asks Meghan. Giselle nods her head vigorously, smiling.
I first met Meghan Markle eighteen months ago, shortly before she married Prince Harry. We went for lunch at a restaurant in London, sitting in a corner where she went unnoticed and undisturbed. She ate monkfish, offering me some when I expressed my food envy, and we discussed some of our shared passions: mental health, running, yoga.
It was, bar the odd talk of the impending royal wedding, no different to many of the lunches I have with girlfriends, and when people asked me afterwards what she was like, I felt a little disappointed to have to answer honestly that she was really not that much different from the rest of us.
We kept in touch. It was Meghan who had encouraged her then boyfriend to do the podcast about his mental health with me, and I felt we were on the same wave-length.
I saw her a couple of weeks before the Tom Bradby interview came out, just after they had got back from their tour of Africa.
Then, as in the interview, her eyes glistened when I asked her how she was. But if I have learnt anything about Meghan in the time I have known her, it is that she is a doer, not a wallflower. She lives in the solution, not the problem. She told me that she didn’t want people to love her - she just wanted them to be able to hear her. I have found that this is what the Duchess of Sussex stands for: using her voice to help give one to people less privileged than her.
So that is what we set out to do.
Certain sections of our still buttoned-up society may not like it, but the Duchess of Sussex is, by giving the kind of open interview she did to Bradby, also giving the women she is meeting today permission to be open.
There is a point where Tanya apologises for her tears. Meghan reaches for a box of tissues and hands them to her. In this room, these apologies are not necessary. For the Duchess of Sussex, showing vulnerability is not a weakness. On the contrary - it is one of humanity’s greatest strengths.
“I was talking about this with someone the other day,” continues Meghan. “We get into this habit of wanting things done immediately nowadays. There’s a culture of instant gratification, of the instant fix. But we aren’t mechanical objects that need to be fixed. You’re a wounded creature that needs to be healed, and that takes time. And that’s what I love about this place. It gives you the support to heal.”
The Duchess’s critics will no doubt turn their noses up at this language of healing. But the Duchess is not doing this for them. She is doing this for women like Tanya and Giselle.
Women like Monica, who came to Luminary after being trafficked and beaten to within an inch of her life, and who now shares her apron with the Duchess so that she can join her while baking. Women like Halimot, a victim of child exploitation who, thanks to Luminary, can proudly show Meghan the business cards she has just had printed out bearing the name of her new catering company.
These are the people who matter to Meghan Markle.
In the days since the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s interview with Tom Bradby, there has been much speculation about the couple. They are in torment. They are at breaking point. They are planning to flee the country and move to America.
In reality, though, the situation is not quite so attention grabbing. For one, there is the not so small matter of a six month old baby to deal with, and all that this entails (weaning, feeding, an almost permanent state of exhaustion - Meghan tells me that while her husband has flown to Japan in his role as a patron for the RFU, she and Archie will be watching the final tomorrow morning, Archie in an England babygro. “Go England!” she beams).
But secondly, I get the distinct impression that Meghan has accepted the strange situation in which she finds herself: she is damned if she does, and she is damned is she doesn’t, and being the kind of person she is, she’s going to carry on doing, thank you very much.
Back in the Luminary Bakery, Giselle is telling us how seen she felt when she first came here. “Joining the Luminary project changed my life,” she says.
“I had spent so long feeling alone in a crowded room, but for the first time I truly felt that I was being heard. For the first time I felt no judgement for my past decisions or my mental condition and most importantly of all, through Luminary, I found a way to accept my own condition and past choices. It was hugely empowering, to be accepted, because sometimes it feels like we live in a world where nobody wants to accept anybody.”
It is true that we seem to have taken several steps back when it comes to striking for a culture of acceptance and tolerance.
It is hard to believe, in the current climate, that just two and a bit years ago, when I did my podcast with Prince Harry, he was lauded for speaking openly and honestly about his feelings, and how close he came to a breakdown. Now that same openness he was once praised for is - in some quarters at least - being used against him.
Whereas in 2017 he was a huge force for good, helping men in particular to realise that mental health issues can happen to anyone (suicide is still the biggest killer of young males in this country), now he stands accused of being too privileged to be allowed to express anything other than endless gratitude.
But there is no doubting that this openness and honesty helps the couple to connect with people on a level that other royals might struggle to reach.
Meghan, in jeans, Adidas trainers and a shirt today, is pretty quickly absorbed into the task in hand, rolling up sleeves, decorating cakes, and taking time with each woman to hear their story.
“I find that when you strip all the layers away, as people, and especially as women, we can find deep connection with each other, and a shared understanding,” she says.
Our lives may be different, our backgrounds, our experiences, all varied, but I find that in these moments of connection it becomes abundantly clear that our hopes, our fears, our insecurities, the things that make us tick…. well, those are very much the same. And there’s comfort in that.”
Later, as I make my way home from the bakery, I think about her ability to transcend pomp and circumstance. Some accuse of her of being too Hollywood about her royal duties, but I don’t think that really nails it. I think she is probably just a bit too human about them.
“I’m a child of nobody,” says Halimot. “And you are a somebody. It means so much that I can meet you.”
Meghan smiles at the woman. “Oh no,” she says beaming widely, and taking the woman in her arms. “It means so much that I can meet you.”
It is a small gesture, but a genuine one. And for the women of the Luminary Bakery who came here today, it will not be forgotten.
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Who Would Think A Donald Trump
A 5-Time Draft Dodger Would Say This
Americans Who Died In War Are ‘Losers’
And ‘Suckers’
~ Donald J. Trump ~
His Niece Mary Trump Said This
Anybody Who Is Surprised By Donald Trump’s
Comments Is Once Again Letting Him Off The
Hook When He Has Time After Time Demonstrated
Himself To Be Nothing But An Anti-American,
Anti-Military Traitor To This Country.
~ Mary Trump ~
Quite An Amazing Article
From The Article
The president has repeatedly disparaged the intelligence of service members, and asked that wounded veterans be kept out of military parades, multiple sources tell The Atlantic.
When Donald Trump canceled a visit to the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery near Paris in 2018, he blamed rain for the last-minute decision, saying that “the helicopter couldn’t fly” and that the Secret Service wouldn’t drive him there. Neither claim was true.
Trump rejected the idea of the visit because he feared his hair would become disheveled in the rain, and because he did not believe it important to honor American war dead, according to four people with firsthand knowledge of the discussion that day. In a conversation with senior staff members on the morning of the scheduled visit, Trump said, “Why should I go to that cemetery? It’s filled with losers.” In a separate conversation on the same trip, Trump referred to the more than 1,800 marines who lost their lives at Belleau Wood as “suckers” for getting killed.
Belleau Wood is a consequential battle in American history, and the ground on which it was fought is venerated by the Marine Corps. America and its allies stopped the German advance toward Paris there in the spring of 1918. But Trump, on that same trip, asked aides, “Who were the good guys in this war?” He also said that he didn’t understand why the United States would intervene on the side of the Allies.
Trump’s understanding of concepts such as patriotism, service, and sacrifice has interested me since he expressed contempt for the war record of the late Senator John McCain, who spent more than five years as a prisoner of the North Vietnamese. “He’s not a war hero,” Trump said in 2015 while running for the Republican nomination for president. “I like people who weren’t captured.”
There was no precedent in American politics for the expression of this sort of contempt, but the performatively patriotic Trump did no damage to his candidacy by attacking McCain in this manner. Nor did he set his campaign back by attacking the parents of Humayun Khan, an Army captain who was killed in Iraq in 2004.
Trump remained fixated on McCain, one of the few prominent Republicans to continue criticizing him after he won the nomination. When McCain died, in August 2018, Trump told his senior staff, according to three sources with direct knowledge of this event, “We’re not going to support that loser’s funeral,” and he became furious, according to witnesses, when he saw flags lowered to half-staff. “What the fuck are we doing that for? Guy was a fucking loser,” the president told aides. Trump was not invited to McCain’s funeral. (These sources, and others quoted in this article, spoke on condition of anonymity. The White House did not return earlier calls for comment, but Alyssa Farah, a White House spokesperson, emailed me this statement shortly after this story was posted: “This report is false. President Trump holds the military in the highest regard. He’s demonstrated his commitment to them at every turn: delivering on his promise to give our troops a much needed pay raise, increasing military spending, signing critical veterans reforms, and supporting military spouses. This has no basis in fact.”)
Trump’s understanding of heroism has not evolved since he became president. According to sources with knowledge of the president’s views, he seems to genuinely not understand why Americans treat former prisoners of war with respect. Nor does he understand why pilots who are shot down in combat are honored by the military. On at least two occasions since becoming president, according to three sources with direct knowledge of his views, Trump referred to former President George H. W. Bush as a “loser” for being shot down by the Japanese as a Navy pilot in World War II. (Bush escaped capture, but eight other men shot down during the same mission were caught, tortured, and executed by Japanese soldiers.)
When lashing out at critics, Trump often reaches for illogical and corrosive insults, and members of the Bush family have publicly opposed him. But his cynicism about service and heroism extends even to the World War I dead buried outside Paris—people who were killed more than a quarter century before he was born. Trump finds the notion of military service difficult to understand, and the idea of volunteering to serve especially incomprehensible. (The president did not serve in the military; he received a medical deferment from the draft during the Vietnam War because of the alleged presence of bone spurs in his feet. In the 1990s, Trump said his efforts to avoid contracting sexually transmitted diseases constituted his “personal Vietnam.”)
On Memorial Day 2017, Trump visited Arlington National Cemetery, a short drive from the White House. He was accompanied on this visit by John Kelly, who was then the secretary of homeland security, and who would, a short time later, be named the White House chief of staff. The two men were set to visit Section 60, the 14-acre area of the cemetery that is the burial ground for those killed in America’s most recent wars. Kelly’s son Robert is buried in Section 60. A first lieutenant in the Marine Corps, Robert Kelly was killed in 2010 in Afghanistan. He was 29. Trump was meant, on this visit, to join John Kelly in paying respects at his son’s grave, and to comfort the families of other fallen service members. But according to sources with knowledge of this visit, Trump, while standing by Robert Kelly’s grave, turned directly to his father and said, “I don’t get it. What was in it for them?” Kelly (who declined to comment for this story) initially believed, people close to him said, that Trump was making a ham-handed reference to the selflessness of America’s all-volunteer force. But later he came to realize that Trump simply does not understand non-transactional life choices.
“He can’t fathom the idea of doing something for someone other than himself,” one of Kelly’s friends, a retired four-star general, told me. “He just thinks that anyone who does anything when there’s no direct personal gain to be had is a sucker. There’s no money in serving the nation.” Kelly’s friend went on to say, “Trump can’t imagine anyone else’s pain. That’s why he would say this to the father of a fallen marine on Memorial Day in the cemetery where he’s buried.”
I’ve asked numerous general officers over the past year for their analysis of Trump’s seeming contempt for military service. They offer a number of explanations. Some of his cynicism is rooted in frustration, they say. Trump, unlike previous presidents, tends to believe that the military, like other departments of the federal government, is beholden only to him, and not the Constitution. Many senior officers have expressed worry about Trump’s understanding of the rules governing the use of the armed forces. This issue came to a head in early June, during demonstrations in Washington, D.C., in response to police killings of Black people. James Mattis, the retired Marine general and former secretary of defense, lambasted Trump at the time for ordering law-enforcement officers to forcibly clear protesters from Lafayette Square, and for using soldiers as props: “When I joined the military, some 50 years ago, I swore an oath to support and defend the Constitution,” Mattis wrote. “Never did I dream that troops taking that same oath would be ordered under any circumstance to violate the Constitutional rights of their fellow citizens—much less to provide a bizarre photo op for the elected commander-in-chief, with military leadership standing alongside.”
https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2020/09/trump-americans-who-died-at-war-are-losers-and-suckers/615997/
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The brand label that stokes Trump’s fury: ‘Racist, racist, racist.’
https://wapo.st/2P6GXHl
If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, is yellow like a duck, it's most definitely a duck. Trump is playing a dangerous game with white supremacists that is endangering the lives of American citizens. HE MUST BE CALLED OUT AND HELD ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIS WORDS AND ACTIONS.
The brand label that stokes Trump’s fury: ‘Racist, racist, racist.’
By Philip Rucker and Ashley Parker |
Published August 11 at 11:18 AM ET |
Washington Post | Posted August 11, 2019 1:30 PM ET |
President Trump considers himself a branding wizard, but he is vexed by a branding crisis of his own: how to shed the label of “racist.”
As the campaign takes shape about 15 months before voters render a verdict on his presidency, Trump’s Democratic challengers are marking him a racist, and a few have gone so far as to designate the president a white supremacist.
Throughout his career as a real estate magnate, a celebrity provocateur and a politician, Trump has recoiled from being called the r-word, even though some of his actions and words have been plainly racist.
Following a month in which he leveled racist attacks on four congresswomen of color, maligned majority-black Baltimore as a “rat and rodent infested mess” and saw his anti-immigrant rhetoric parroted in an alleged mass shooter’s statement, the risk for Trump is that the pejorative that has long dogged him becomes defining.
Being called a racist has infuriated Trump, gnawing at him in recent days as he lashes out — in tweets and in public comments — over the moniker, behavior his advisers and allies excuse as the natural reaction of anyone who does not consider himself a racist but is accused of being one.
“For them to throw out the race word again — racist, racist, racist,” Trump told reporters Friday as he departed the White House for a week-long vacation at his private golf club in Bedminster, N.J. “They call anybody a racist when they run out of cards.”
The president views the characterization largely through the lens of politics, said one close adviser, explaining that Trump feels the charges of racism are just another attempt to discredit him — not unlike, he believes, the more than a dozen women who have accused him of sexual misconduct or the Russia investigation.
Many of his supporters see it the same way. “At first, they tried to use Russia, and that didn’t work,” said Don Byrd of Newton, Iowa. “Now it’s all about race — ‘He’s a racist. He’s this. He’s that.’ ”
Democrats have engaged in semantic maneuverings about just how racist they think the president is. While former congressman Beto O’Rourke and Sen. Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts said without hesitation that the president is a white supremacist, former vice president Joe Biden stopped short.
“Why are you so hooked on that?” Biden told reporters last week in Iowa. “You just want me to say the words so I sound like everybody else. I’m not everybody else. I’m Joe Biden. . . . He is encouraging white supremacists. You can determine what that means.”
Trump’s allies argue Democrats risk overreach in maligning the president.
“Democrats seem to forget that Trump supporters include blacks, whites, Hispanics and other minority groups who simply love this country,” said Mercedes Schlapp, a Trump campaign adviser, in a text message. “Democrats have shown their absolute disdain for the president and now they have extended their disdain to half of America.”
Some Democrats seem cognizant of the danger. At last month’s presidential debate, Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota said, “There are people that voted for Donald Trump before that aren’t racist; they just wanted a better shake in the economy.”
Yet, she, too, also felt the need to rebuke Trump. “I don’t think anyone can justify what this president is doing,” Klobuchar concluded.
Trump recently called himself “the least racist person anywhere in the world,” but his history is littered with racist and racially charged comments and actions.
In 1989, Trump purchased newspaper advertisements demanding the death penalty for the “Central Park Five,” black and Latino teenagers wrongly accused of raping a jogger in New York. In 2005, he pitched a culturally divisive spinoff of his popular reality television series: “The Apprentice: White People vs. Black People.”
Trump then rose to political prominence partially by championing the racist birtherism lie that former president Barack Obama was born outside of the United States. As a presidential candidate, Trump attacked a judge overseeing a Trump University case for his Mexican heritage. And once in the White House, Trump equivocated in the aftermath of a deadly white supremacist rally in 2017 in Charlottesville, saying there were “very fine people on both sides.”
Last month, Trump tweeted that four minority congresswomen known as the Squad should “go back” to the “totally broken and crime infested places from which they came,” even though three of the four lawmakers were born in the United States. He later did not stop his supporters from chanting “Send her back!” at a campaign rally where he evoked the name of one of the four, Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.). The Somali-born refuge became a U.S. citizen in 2000.
Trump’s rhetoric came under fresh examination last week after the alleged gunman who killed at least 22 people in El Paso echoed in what is believed to be his missive Trump’s language about an “invasion” of Hispanic migrants.
People who know Trump have come to his defense. Kellyanne Conway, counselor to the president, said that, in her three years at his side, she has “never, ever, a single time heard this president say or do anything” racist. She described his reaction to being labeled a racist as “less frustration and more consternation that critics, especially those who would like to be president, resort to spewing invectives or hurling insults at the current president, instead of just arguing on the issues.”
Trump’s sensitivity about the racist sobriquet dates back decades. The Rev. Al Sharpton, a civil rights activist who has known Trump and tangled with him for many years, said the president has long understood that being called “the r-word” would damage his casino and hotel businesses and, now, his political standing.
“At one level, you’re super sensitive about the r-word, and on another level, you buy ads on the Central Park Five,” Sharpton said.
Sharpton recalled that, at the height of the birtherism debate, Trump sought to persuade him to stop calling him out for his lies about Obama’s birthplace on his MSNBC show by inviting him to a meeting at Trump Tower.
“I’m not a racist,” Sharpton recalled Trump adamantly insisting.
The two men argued and Sharpton responded, “I’m not calling you a racist, but what you are doing is racist.”
Sharpton continued to attack Trump on air.
Some people who have worked for Trump say the president is less concerned about the moral significance of being called a racist but focuses instead on the bottom-line implications.
“The guy sends out blatantly racist tweets,” former White House communications director Anthony Scaramucci said. “White supremacist. Racist. Those labels are bad for business. . . . It means a reduction in the colors of people who want to vote for you. He’s upset about it because it’s bad for business.”
To the extent that one’s understanding of what is and isn’t racist is forged in his youth, Trump’s upbringing may be instructive. One former adviser suggested Trump believes he is more racially tolerant than his father, Fred Trump, who was reported to have been arrested in connection with a 1927 Ku Klux Klan march in New York — an arrest the president has denied as “nonsense” and “never happened.”
[In 1927, Donald Trump’s father was arrested after a Klan riot in Queens]
In the 1970s, Fred and Donald Trump both were sued by the Justice Department for discriminating against black renters in their residential properties.
Conway argued the charges of racism against Trump are over-the-top and that they are likely to help him politically because his voters could think Democratic candidates are unfairly branding them as racists, too, simply for supporting the president.
“When the elite wrist-flickers are out there demeaning and ridiculing his rank-and-file supporters — those forgotten men and women who aren’t chanting at the rallies — an insult to him is an insult to them and vice versa,” Conway said.
One such Trump supporter, Laura Capps, 39, had driven last week from Boone, Iowa, to attend the first full day of the state fair. Capps said she was exasperated when Democrats blamed Trump for mass shootings — “there were shootings under Obama, under every president” — and said they obsessed over Trump’s tweets and statements because they had nothing else to attack.
“I’ve been called a racist because I’m a Trump supporter,” Capps said. “It’s ridiculous. I’ve got a first cousin that’s married to an African American gal. So their kids are biracial, and I love them just like the rest of my second cousins.”
Holly Bailey and Dave Weigel in Des Moines
#u.s. news#politics#donald trump#trump administration#politics and government#president donald trump#white house#trump#republican politics#us: news#republican party#international news#must reads#national security#domestic terrorism#the nra is a terrorist organization#terrorism#white supermacists#racism#trumpism#donald trump jr#ivanka trump#impeach trump#trump crime syndicate#trump crime family#hate speech#hate groups#hate crimes
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Survey #192
“i’d love to give you wings, but babe, you’ve got to grow them.”
Where have you lived throughout your life? The same general area in North Carolina. Do you find your job rewarding? N/A What kind of cake did you have for your last birthday? I'm sure it was red velvet. To you, which is better: English muffins or bagels? I enjoy both, but bagels. Do you paint your nails? No. What’s the last website you signed up for? Good question... maybe a feral dog RP forum I was considering making a character on? Do you check your email everyday? I'm getting into the habit. Have you created any pages on Facebook? Yeah. Is there a subject that you absolutely suck at? Social studies/history, math. What’s your favorite song by Dave Matthews Band? I have no idea who that is. Are there people you have absolutely nothing in common with, but still enjoy talking to? Maybe? Have you ever wandered around drunk with your friend? No. Are you good at holding back your laughter if needed? Nooo, not at all. Have you ever been so unfortunate to suffer from a hangover? No. Have you ever had a panic attack? Plenty. Are you deathly allergic to anything? No. Have you ever had a mouse in your house? Yeah. In our old one, anyway. Do you know anyone who DOESN’T have an ex? Not personally, I think. Is anyone you know really religious? Welcome to the South. Yes. Are your eyebrows naturally thick? I'd say they're average. Has speaking in front of people ever made you sick? No. I haven't spoken in front of an actual audience since my senior project, though. It was hard, but I think I did well. What was the last movie that made you teary-eyed? I'm not sure. Moana may have gotten me a bit teary? But if no, Coco absolutely did. Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other? I think "hate" is a strong word for it. Has a laptop ever burned your legs? Yes. I legitimately had dark spots on my right leg for a long while. Do you know anyone who has a scar through their eyebrow? Juan. Who was the last person to flip you off? Idk, but I'm sure it was playfully. Anyone’s birthday coming up soon? Miiiine! And my friend Alyssa's. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? Sure, in rare circumstances. Are you good at following directions? No. I have zer-O sense of direction. Do you have someone that you can just act a fool with and not care? Sara. From where you’re sitting, can you touch a wall? Yeah, behind me. When at a restaurant, do you put your napkin on your lap? Not unless I'm with my grandmother. She's extremely "proper" about things. Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners? Electric. Are your biceps at all noticeable? No. Have you ever seen a walrus? Are there any at SeaWorld? Otherwise, no. When it comes to dropping food, do you believe in the 10 second rule? HELL NO. I'm a germaphobe with that stuff. If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel? Sure? Do you believe that cellphones actually do cause cancer? I don't recall the science behind this theory, so idk. When people you know cry, does it make you feel like crying too? Oh yes, especially if it's someone I'm very close to. Particularly, I can't handle Mom, my sisters, or Sara crying. I've never seen Dad cry, but if he ever did, I know I would bawl. Do you tend to jump to conclusions? Was this written as a direct @me??????? Are you good at remembering your friends’ birthdays? NOPE. I only remember... Sara's, Connie's, Caleb's (just because it's on Halloween), Shaylee's, and that's literally it out of friends/acquaintances. Is there something you need to do, that you’re trying to avoid doing? Actually use WiiFit. I'm doing periodic exercises throughout the day, but I need to dedicate more and be able to see my center of balance. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? NONONONONO IT'S SO GROSS TO ME How long does it take you to fall asleep? No less than 15 minutes, I think usually more. Do you crack your neck often? I can't. Did you have a weird dream last night? OH MY GOD YES. I was awkwardly with one of my acquaintances at his house somehow????? and we both seemed very uncomfortable??????? and I think I was high or some shit???????????????? I don't even know this person well enough to like-like him?????????????? Who do you sometimes compare yourself to? My sisters and successful friends. Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things? Doing the right things. But I aim for both. In what way are you your own worst enemy? I criticize. The. Hell out of everything I do. What activities make you lose track of time? Video games. When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?” Full offense, you're an absolute dick if you do that. Who do you tell your secrets to? Nobody really unless there's reason to, and only ever Sara, Mom, or my therapist. Who do you live with? Mom and the pets. When did/will you graduate? '14 for high school. Idk when I will for college, gotta get there first... When are you moving next? Probably when Sara and I are ready for our own place. When is the last time you took a vitamin? I have to twice a week now, so Thursday, because I have an incredible vitamin D deficiency, and that's probably what's causing my knee problems. Why are you stressed? The everlasting weight loss struggle. Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Where do you keep your birth certificate? It's in a safe. How many books are in your room? Uhhh like three? Then one coloring book. Have you ever been IN a wedding? I was the immensely triggered and ugly bridesmaid at my older sister's. Weddings were a very sensitive thing to me at the time, so while I was so happy for Ashley, I had a very difficult time and cried numerous times. What was the last thing you laughed out loud at? I think during a Mark video? Do you have a nickname? Why? "Britt" for obvious reasons, and Mom's called me "Twinkie" since I was a baby. She gave all her children sweets-based nicknames. Fuck out my face if you think that ain't the cutest damn thing. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful/good-looking? Do people often tell you this? I think the last time was when Sara said I looked really pretty with eyeliner on and I just eeeeeeeeeek. I'm not often told it. Are you missing someone of the opposite sex atm? Not romantically. I'd like to see Girt as a bud; I'm gonna invite him to my birthday dinner to hang out. Hopefully he doesn't have work. Want someone back in your life? Yes. Are you currently sad about anything? Weight. Unbelievable difficulty getting my fucking transcript and inability to find my ACT score so I can go back to school. Are you wearing anything shiny? My lip ring has gems on it, and they shine a bit in the right light. How important is a sense of humor in a significant other? I need it. I don't think I could really enjoy a constantly serious person as a partner. How many followers do you have on Twitter? Idk, don't care to check. I only ever use it to be able to like Mark's shit lmao. Do you sleep with the door open or closed? Open so Roman can go in and out. Have you ever been to the beach? Multiple times. Can you handle blood? Doesn't bother me a bit. Do you pay your bills or do your parents? My parents. I have no source of income to. What’s your best friend’s middle name? Jane. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever barely passed a grade/year in school? In college courses when my mental state was at its worst. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Have you ever tried to sell something overpriced to someone? No, I don't think so. Do you plan to become very wealthy some day? "Very" is unlikely, but I am dead serious about being at least perfectly financially stable one day. I refuse to live how I have my whole life so far, wondering if rent will be paid each month 'n things like that. Do you remember your first time going to the movies? No. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No. Are you dying to say something to someone right this minute? No. Well, not dying to, but after this whole revelation I had, I really want to apologize to Jason. I wasn't without evil in how I responded to and treated him after the breakup. Book series you enjoyed reading recently? I haven't read a series in years. Do you enjoy lying in the grass during the summer, and just existing? Nooo. Summer sucks and lying in grass is super uncomfortable. Do you have a passport? If so, how many stamps do you have in it? No. Are there any keys on your keyboard that have letters fading away? Not fading, but literally gone from the keyboard because this one is horrible, even after being "fixed" or replaced (idr). No joke, 21 are gone. Sooo I have to smash those buttons for the sensor or whatever to understand I'm pressing them, to the point my fingers, especially right pointer, are mildly callused. Do any of your close friends have children? No close ones, but one I'm hoping to reconnect more with it expecting. What do you plan on having for dinner? Probably a sandwich and nutrition shake to get enough calories to take my medicine and get the intended effect. Do you like Chinese food, or do you find it disgusting? The only things I enjoy now are fried rice and eggrolls, but I used to like sweet and sour chicken and bird on a stick or whatever its proper name is. Have the police ever come knocking on your door looking for someone? Once. Know anybody who works in a tattoo parlor? We're not like, "real" friends, but I know a good number of and get along great with the employees at the parlor I'm a regular customer at. I want to work there so badly. Small, environment I feel at home at, great people. Have you ever played flashlight tag? Don't even know what that is. Could you call yourself a movie buff? Not at all. Have you ever had a piercing get infected? A second hole in one of my earlobes, and the first time I got my tongue done, there was an abscess inside that indicated one was likely to form. Thank God that the rollercoaster of The Tongue Piercing Woes has ended. Do you check your fire alarms when you’re supposed to? Mom does occasionally. Are you a shorts wearing kind of person? NOOOOO MY LEGS ARE NOT OKAY. Plus I chafe. Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy? Ohhhh I'm sure. I haven't been to her house since I was a kid, but I remember it being like, pristine. Her rooms at her son's is neat as hell too. About how much can you bench press? I have no clue. Have you ever had your phone die on you in the middle of a conversation? Yeah. Is anybody in your family a carpenter? Not to my knowledge. Are you avoiding someone? No. Do you call your boyfriend “Monkey”? I have a gf, and I have never in the least understood how that's a term of endearment. What’s your favorite primary color? Red. What were you for Halloween? Nothing, ugh. I haaave to dress up this year. Do you have any clothes from Walmart? Yeah. When did you get a Facebook? I have no clue. What color are your eyes? Grayish-greenish blue. What motivates you? How far I've already come, wanting a better future than I have now, encouragement from friends, family, my therapist, and psychiatrist, the drive to thoroughly enjoy my one mortal existence. Can you walk in heels? Not well. When was the last time someone asked you your age? Ummm, last time I got something done at the parlor, I think? Do you keep a journal? No. Have you ever tried a weird flavor of vodka? No. Do you wear a ring on your finger? One, my friendship ring with Sara. What are you doing? This, listening to Asking Alexandria's "Closer" NIN cover (no shame), and waiting for Girt to reply on Facebook. What’s the last kind of soup you ate? A bit of vegetable. Do you currently have a sunburn? No. Who did you last text? Mom. Who’d you last call? About what? My old college to find out why I couldn't get my fucking transcript after weeks upon weeks of being directed to different people about it. I regret going there immensely. Complete waste of time and money. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I'm really frustrated at myself. Do you drink water or soda more often? I'm actually not sure... Do you straighten your hair? No. When did you last talk to your brother or sister? One, not since Christmas, and the younger, a few days ago. All my half-siblings have been forever, and one I've never spoken to. What is your least favorite vegetable? Probably asparagus. Or beans. Outside of family, name 3 people that make you smile/laugh often. Sara, Mark, Shane Dawson. In school, what subjects did you achieve your highest grades in? English or art, idr. Was there a subject that you enjoyed, but weren’t too good at? No. When was the last time something didn’t go to plan? What happened? Being into what's called "vulture culture" now (at least to a certain degree), I searched for quite a while for the bones of the very first opossum I photographed (I have a photography "series" focused on exposing the horror of roadkill to hopefully influence people to be more careful and vigilant), but despite thorough searching, I couldn't find it. Gruesome, but Mom speculated the remains were destroyed by whoever mows the grass there. Do you have any children? If not, at what age do you think you’ll feel ready to be a parent? No, and never. When was the last time you bought a new item of clothing? Describe it. Uhhh. I seriously have no clue. Maybe some underwear months ago. Was your last Facebook friend request from a male or female? Idk who the last person was. Do you have an item of clothing that makes you feel especially beautiful? Describe it. No. Think of the last person that betrayed you. If they said they were sorry, would you forgive them? I can literally almost guarantee Colleen shared our whole goddamn conversation and shit on Facebook after our last talk, as she did the first time too. Too many times our business became everyone's. I'd forgive her, but I refuse to ever be friends again. Nastiest thing you've ever done? I hate talking about this, but okay. When I was deep into my suicidal depression phase, I had a hard time brushing my teeth as needed. Like... I wouldn't for days. I avoided brushing my hair as long as I could too. Anyone who doesn't believe in how deeply depression is capable of chaining you down and making vital things almost impossible, go get fucking educated. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No. What color is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? Ideally Domino's, but sometimes Little Caesar's. When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone? Yesterday. Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? Oh yes. I rarely try something new. What color is your bike? N/A What word can you not stand to hear people say? The “n” word. What room of your house are you in? My bedroom. What is the temperature in your city right now? Apparently 38 F. When did you last use a post-it-note? No idea. Would you ever want to own your own restaurant? No. Do you have a fan in your bedroom? I have three lmao. My room is unbearable in the summer. Who is the last person that you took a picture with? Sara. When is the last time you were stuck in a fairly long traffic jam? A couple months or so back when there was an accident. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? All my friends. When was your most recent trip to an aquarium? 2016 visit to the beach. We went to the aquarium there and it absolutely sucked. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? Just lettuce (but I can also handle cucumbers) and the Olive Garden dressing. If it has one, do you ever use the notepad function in your phone? Occasionally. Rn I have tattoo ideas written in it. Surprised? How good would you say your memory is? Absolutely horrible, lately worse than ever. I worry about it quite a bit. About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? Once or twice. Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? Not currently on or anything. What’s one thing you’re glad you’ve done recently? Improved on picking up the phone when I don't know the number. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? Well, I've talked about flirting with my friend's bf as a pre-teen, and it wasn't always innocent, if you count that as "sexual." I regret the hell out of it. Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out? NO. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? Yes, Tyler. I wasn't like, terrified, but preeeetty uncomfortable. Can you drive, and if you can, do you like it? I can, but I'm not that great, and I absolutely hate it. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Yes. Do you like french fries? Hell yeah. Have you ever eaten so much you puked? No. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? People whose opinions I care about. Would you rather go to Greece or France? Probably Greece.
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Chapter 3: Skies Darkening at Sunset
“So, everybody understand the plan?” Fjord asked.
They were all standing outside the old barn, clustered together around the door and bathing in the early-morning sunlight. Caduceus had woven a second straw hat during the night’s watch, and Jester was plucking hay off of her dress.
“Me and Yasha are on recon,” Beau said, and Yasha nodded. “We’re trying to get as much info as we can from the villagers about this place, and this time, and if anything funky’s going on.”
Jester pointed gleefully at Fjord. “We’re on Caleb-duty!” she announced next. “We’re gonna teach that kid some magic!”
“And try and see if there’s any hint of non-kid Caleb in there,” Fjord added.
“See if you can wake ‘im up, too,” Beau said. “Like…kick him in the head, or something.”
“I can’t kick that high,” Fjord sighed. “And even if I could, I don’t think goin’ around and kicking children is the answer.”
Beau shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to try,” she said.
He ignored this, turning instead to Caduceus and Nott. “Y’all know your job too, right?” he asked.
Nott met his gaze with a resentful frown. She kicked the ground glumly. “It’s not much of a job,” she said. “Not really a job at all.”
“Don’t worry.” Caduceus placed a massive, mitt-like hand on her head. “I’m sure it’s crucial to the overall plan,” he said calmly.
“Finding a grassy field and ‘staying put’ doesn’t sound so important,” Nott muttered.
“Sorry,” Fjord said sympathetically. “It’s just…the two of you stand out the most. And that might make it hard for you to talk to people. Plus…there’s a certain lack of social graces—”
“Yeah, you literally ate a tongue in the middle of a conversation once,” Beau said.
Nott shot her a glare, but settled down. “Yeah, yeah, well…Caduceus and I are going to have a great time hanging around and doing nothing. And you all aren’t invited. Isn’t that right, Mister Clay?”
Caduceus shrugged. “If that’ll make you feel better, then sure,” he said. “More tea for us.”
Fjord sighed. “Alright then,” he said, and pointed towards the town. “If we’re all settled then, let’s roll out. I know time is wonky here, but the quicker we get this all done, the better.”
•
Caleb was running gleefully through the grass when they arrived at his home, a large cloth sack in his arms, chasing around a small flock of chickens with fistfuls of cornmeal.
“Come back!” he shouted at a plump brown hen. “Come on, come on, I have to feed you!”
Jester immediately brightened and Fjord, despite his reluctance around children, felt his expression soften.
“Caleb!” she called cheerfully. “Caleb, good morning!”
The boy stopped in his tracks, almost tripped, and whipped around. A wide smile broke across his face.
“The magic people!” He shouted delightedly. “Hey, hey, you came!” Then he paused and looked around. “Where are the other ones of you?” he asked. “The really tall one and the really small one and the really angry one and the really dark one?”
“They’re dealing with their own business,” Fjord shrugged, and crouched down in the grass so he was level with Caleb. “But we decided to swing by and see if you were interested in learning a bit about magic today. If it’s alright with your parents, that is.”
Caleb’s eyes went wide. He nodded rapidly. “Papa is inside right now,” he said. “Warte mal! I’ll be right back!”
He dropped the bag of cornmeal and bolted towards the house.
The entire flock of chickens instantly swarmed in around them. Fjord turned and sighed at Jester as a hen ran across his boot.
“Well,” he said. “Uh…so far so good?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s true. But…how much exactly do you know about wizarding?”
They watched a hen cluck sharply at an approaching rooster. It squawked in terror and backed off.
“Actually,” Fjord said sheepishly, “I was kind of hoping you could take charge from here.”
•
Beau and Yasha stood in the fields at a distance, eyeing up a group of farmers.
“So…” the monk said slowly, “you distract them, then I’ll sneak up from behind and grab one. Then we run away, tie him up, and I punch the information out him.”
There was a brief pause.
“Why would that be a good idea?”
“I dunno. It just feels right.”
“I thought we were supposed to be non-violent.”
Beau sighed. “I know, I know, I just don’t wanna talk to anybody. I hate socializing.”
“But…we were assigned to do that,” Yasha said. “Was that not the whole point?”
“It was,” Beau mumbled, “but it’s only us because Fjord and Jester were the only candidates for magic-teaching, and then it was a matter of choosing between two normal-ish looking people, or a goblin and a giant talking cow.”
There was another pause.
“That is a bit mean, don’t you think?”
Beau’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah,” she said, “yeah, I guess so. I’m just…fuckin’ nervous, okay? Let’s just go in. And, uh, sorry…Caduceus, wherever you are.”
•
��—and then I think he proposed to me?” Nott said, waving her hands in the air. “Maybe? I don’t know, it was a really weird night, and between all the gnolls and dead people and dying people and hummingbirds, a lot was going on.”
“Sounds like it,” Caduceus agreed. “You guys really get up to some shenanigans, huh?”
The two of them were sitting under the shade of a large maple tree, lounging against its trunk and nestled in the thick grass. Caduceus had pulled out a small set of pipes, and was idly playing a soft melody as Nott spoke.
“We’ve been through a lot,” she shrugged. “Before you came along, and after. Especially after. And it’s nice you’re here. You’re very soft, and Jester’s never been this determined to be The Cleric, before.”
Caduceus chuckled. “It’s nice travelling with you guys as well. You’re very small. And Jester’s loads of fun.”
“I bet they’re having tons of fun without us right now,” Nott grumbled. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have taught Caleb magic. I know the most about it, out of all of us.”
Caduceus shrugged. “Sometimes we just have to go with the flow,” he said. “Besides, I don’t really understand it myself, but weren’t you worried about Caleb seeing you, or something?”
Nott sighed. “Yeah,” she said, “I just don’t think I could handle it if I scared him. He’s always…he was one of the first people to accept me as a goblin, you know?”
“I didn’t,” Caduceus said, “but I now I see your point.”
“He’s mentioned before, how he was told stories as a kid about how scary goblins are. And he’s not wrong. But it…it sucks.”
“I think it would be safe to say that all of this sucks, doesn’t it? Or am I reading the situation wrong?”
Nott snorted. “No, no,” she said, “no, you’ve pretty much nailed it. All of this is shifty.”
“Well,” said Caduceus after a few moments, “At least nothing is attacking us.”
“That’s true,” Nott agreed. “And it’s kind of fun to see Caleb this way. He’s really cute.”
“He is,” Caduceus agreed. “Maybe it’s best we just stay out of sight, and relax.”
“Yeah,” Nott said, leaning into the tree, “yeah, alright.”
“Here,” said Caduceus, “why don’t you tell me another story? How did you and Caleb meet?”
Nott giggled. “Oh boy,” she said, “oh, that’s a long one.”
•
“Alrighty then, young man!” Jester grinned, and watched Caleb hop onto a fallen log. “What sort of thing are you hoping to learn about?”
The boy began to balance-beam his way across, wobbling slightly as he went. “I don’t really know,” he said. “What do you want to teach me?”
Jester glanced over at Fjord, who shrugged. She turned back to Caleb. “We-ell, you said you could do some magic of your own, right? How much do you already know?”
He gave her a proud smile. “I can cast one spell,” he said. “The one I learned from the book! I would show you, but I have to have a glühwürmchen to do it.”
Fjord blinked and raised a hand. “Hang on,” he said. “A what?”
Caleb laughed. “A glow worm! Sorry, I keep forgetting that you do not speak Zemnian.”
“That’s alright,” Jester said cheerfully. “You can teach us later!”
“Then I get to be the teacher, right?” he grinned.
Jester giggled. “Exactly,” she said. “But right now, it’s our turn! So…what is your request, o Pupil of Mine?”
He tapped his chin. “Mm…do you think maybe you could teach me...everything?”
Fjord snorted and shook his head. “Sorry there, kid, but I think we might not have enough time for that. Is there something specific you might have in mind?”
Caleb paused at the end of the log and scratched the top of his head in deep thought. “Um…” he said, “…um…maybe…oh! What about that fire trick you showed me yesterday?” he asked Jester. “I want to learn that.”
She bit her lip. “Ah,” she said. “Ah…is there any reason why?”
Caleb shrugged. “I want to make fire,” he said. “Winter will be here soon, and our house is always cold at night. I want to warm it up! So Mama and Papa don’t have to worry. The lights I can already make don’t have any heat,” he added begrudgingly.
Fjord gave Jester a look that said: oh boy.
She sighed and shook her head. “Sorry, little Caleb. I’m not…totally sure I can teach you that one.”
His hopeful expression fell. “What?” he asked. “Aw…but, but why?”
Jester gave him an apologetic smile. “Well, because it’s not actually a magical spell. It’s just an ability I have.”
He cocked his head. “An ability?” he asked. “What…what do you mean?”
“I’m a tiefling,” she shrugged. “And tieflings have natural magic just…just in their blood. We can do certain spells, like that one, without actually having to learn them.”
Caleb’s dejected pout vanished into a look of budding curiosity. “Whoa,” he said. “Wait…wait, why? And how? Where does the magic come from? Why tieflings? And how do you know you can—”
Jester quickly held up a hand. “I think,” she said with a sly grin, “I think I might know something I can teach you now! It’s not exactly a magic itself, but it is very important for those who want to know magic.”
Caleb nodded immediately. He took a seat along the edge of the fallen tree and looked up at Jester with wide eyes. “Bitte,” he said, “bitte, please, I would like to know!”
She laughed. Then she gestured for Fjord to sit down in the grass, and did so herself.
“Alrighty then!” she said. “Listen closely to Professor Jester.” She waggled a finger and grinned. “Pay really good attention, now! There will be a quiz afterwards.”
•
“Excuse me,” Beau called as they waded through the fields, Yasha behind her and failing to seem as unassuming as possible. “Excuse me, I—”
One of the farmers turned around, saw them, and nodded immediately. “Are you the help?” he asked. “Not what I expected, but you seem plenty strong. There’s two sickles over in that cart, grab one and get started, ja?”
Beau and Yasha quickly exchanged glances.
The farmer raised an eyebrow. “Well? Hurry, bitte, I’m not paying you to stand around and gawk!”
Beau shook her head. “Actually,” she said, “you’re not paying us at all. But I think we’d be willing to lend a hand, free of charge, if you could just answer a few quick questions?”
The farmer’s other eyebrow went up. “You’re not trying to sell me anything, are you?”
“Uh…no?” Yasha said.
“Have you done field work before?” the farmer asked. “I can’t waste my time teaching you both.”
They exchanged glances again. Yasha shrugged. “I have,” she said. “I did a lot of odd jobs, before the carnival.”
“And I’ve worked my dad’s land in the past,” Beau said. “So yeah.”
The man nodded. “Ja, okay then,” he said, pointing at his cart. “My name is Max. Hop to it.”
•
“Magic isn’t just a tool for manipulating the world around you,” Jester said slowly, the mid-afternoon sun shining down on their heads. “Magic isn’t just a strange force that shapes water, or slows time, or heals wounds, or makes fire. And magic isn’t something that can just be controlled. It’s an idea, and a feeling, and a wish, and it lives. In every single fragment of our world. It’s in the first breath of a little baby, and in the skies darkening at sunset, and in the way the fields dance when the wind blows by. It’s in the sun, and the clouds, and the dirt. It’s woven into this plane, the Prime Material Plane, and exists side-by-side with all of us. Sometimes, people like me and Fjord, and people like you, can find this magic, and study it, and connect to it, and understand it, and only then can they start to use it. You’ve already got a head start,” she grinned at a beaming Caleb, “since you can already do one spell.”
“Dancing Lights,” he announced proudly.
“Exactly! But,” she said, “but, there are other planes. Other kinds of people. And on these planes, the magic is stronger there. Or unique. And people who are born in those worlds, or become connected to those worlds, are also naturally connected to that magic. For them, casting certain spells is as easy as breathing. And it’s passed down through parents and children, like blue eyes and red hair is.”
“Or like green skin?” Caleb chimed in.
Fjord, sitting in the grass, chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
“Just like that,” Jester nodded. “And that’s where my magic comes from. Well, some of it, anyway. Mine is a little all over the place.”
“All over the place?” Caleb echoed immediately. “What are the other places?”
Jester stroked her chin. “Well,” she said, “technically there are tons of other planes. There’s the Celestial Plane, where all the gods live, and their followers get divine types of magic from them. There are Elemental Planes, full of fire or water or air or earth, and people in tune with nature get their own kind of magic from those. The list goes on and on, really.”
“So where does my magic come from?” Caleb asked. “How do I tune in?”
Jester hesitated. She looked apologetic. “Sorry,” she said, “I don’t…I’m not entirely—”
And then she paused and stared at the sky. She shivered slightly, almost imperceptibly, and looked back to Caleb. In her eyes, the briefest, faintest, hint of green.
“All of them,” she said slowly. “Your magic is tied to every plane. That’s what makes wizards so special. Once you find it, once you hear its song and feel its rhythm, you can pull at all the wonderful, colorful threads that make up the weave of magic connecting all the worlds. It’s pretty cool,” she added with a grin.
Caleb had amazement plastered all across his face. “Tolle,” he whispered. “…wow.”
Fjord looked between the two of them, slightly awkwardly, and coughed. They both turned towards him.
“Yeah,” he said, coughing again. “Yeah, exactly. And, you know, there are other kinds of Planes too. Smaller ones.”
Caleb nodded excitedly. “Yes?” he said. “Really? Like…like what kind, Herr?”
Fjord met his gaze. “Well,” he said. “Well…maybe like the Plane of Dreams?”
Now Jester was also staring at Caleb. They both watched his bright expression with rapt attention, seeking the tiniest cracks, or the lightest glimmers of recognition.
The boy’s fascinated, oblivious smile never faltered.
“That sounds really cool!” he said cheerfully. “What does it do?”
Fjord’s shoulders slumped. Jester sighed and gave Caleb a weak grin. “Well, the Plane of Dreams is a very important one,” she said. “It’s a where we all go when we fall asleep. And where our dreams live.”
“Right,” Fjord nodded. “You know, things that aren’t real. Strong memories, and hopes, and things that you’d wish for.”
The boy nodded. “Neat!” he said. “So do I visit it when I go to sleep too?” he asked.
Jester sighed again. “Yes,” she said. “And usually, you don’t even know it.”
•
Beau and Yasha fell into a comfortable pace working the stalks with their blades, stretching their muscle-memory and directing higher thought functions to the main mission: small talk.
“So,” Beau said as conversationally as she could, “been a farmer for very long?”
Max gave a bark of laughter. “Sure,” he said. “For as long as I can remember. The fields are my home, really.”
“Have you lived here your whole life?” Yasha asked. “In this…Blumenthal?”
“Ja,” said Max. “I have never even seen another town before. I have never had reason to.”
“Really?” Beau asked. “Is it that interesting here?”
Max shook his head. “Interesting is not the word for it,” he said. “Here, you just wake up, you hit the fields, the sun goes down. Then you go home, you tell stories to your kids, you go to sleep. Really, some might consider it boring.”
Yasha blinked. “Then…then why stay?” she asked. “Why not leave?”
Max laughed. “Because that is how I like it,” he said. “This is safety, this familiarity. If I venture out into the big city, or somewhere I’ve never been, there’s too much risk. Too many unknowns.”
Beau raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she said eventually, “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“You should stay a while,” Max suggested. “You’re not bad with that sickle. Then you might switch to my point of view.”
“I cannot imagine Blumenthal is that good,” Yasha said, trying a different tactic.
Max shrugged. “I think it’s perfect,” he said. “It is calm, and peaceful, and the people are good. Everybody knows each other. It is the sort of town where neighbors can trust each other, and the elders help take care of the young ones, and there are plenty of playmates for your children.”
“How’s the drink?” Beau asked. “I saw a tavern in town on the way in.”
Max laughed again. “Strong,” he said. “The way Zemnians like it.”
There were a few minutes of silence, as the conversation slowly died away. Then Beau picked it up again, and asked:
“So, maybe you could tell us a bit about yourself? If, uh, that’s not weird?”
Yasha gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back only slightly painfully.
“Ja, I can do that,” Max said. “What do you want to know?”
Beau shrugged. “Uh, I guess...how old are you?”
He paused. He seemed to think about this for a moment. “Well,” he said eventually, “much older than you, anyhow.”
Beau blinked. She looked at Yasha, who shrugged.
“Are, uh, are you married?” She asked, and Max nodded.
“What is your wife’s name?” Yasha asked.
“Clara,” he said.
There was a long moment where they both waited for him to say more. When nothing came, Beau tried again.
“What about, fuck, uh, what about your kids?” she asked.
He immediately brightened. “Sure,” he said. “My oldest daughter is Emillia. She helps around the garden and in the fields sometimes now, so she doesn’t spend as much time playing. Then after her is Charlotte, just over eight, who hangs around with the other village children. And then Lena, only three, so she spends most of her time at home.”
Beau blinked, and wondered briefly if one could get conversational whiplash.
“You, uh, you care a lot about your kids then, huh?”
“Of course,” Max said. “They are very important to me. And this is a wonderful town for children.”
“Oh,” Beau said. “Uh…okay.” And, uh, what about for those of us who ain’t planning on having any kids?” she asked.
“Oh, well, there certainly are adults like that around here somewhere,” Max shrugged. “I do not have much to say about them, personally.”
“Why?” Beau frowned “You think all people should care about carrying on their bloodlines, and shit?”
Max shook his head and laughed “Oh, no, it’s not that,” he said. “It’s just…I just…” He paused. “I don’t know, I just don’t seem to know much about them. I only really know the parents of my daughter’s friends.”
Beau and Yasha exchanged glances.
The monk tried for an expression that said: There’s something weird about every goddamn answer of his, right?
The barbarian shrugged. Her eyes said: I have no idea what’s going on.
Beau sighed, and looked back at Max. “Hey,” she said, “hey, isn’t it weird that you only know about people who’re parents?”
He blinked and frowned at her. “What?” he said. “Er…is it? I don’t, uh, I didn’t notice.”
There was another lull in the conversation. This time it was more tense, and the sound of wheat being cut down dominated the still air.
Finally, Beau sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, and faced Max again. “Excuse me,” she said. “Hair, uh, Herr Max…can I ask you a couple more questions?”
“Ja, okay,” he sighed, turning around. “But really, after this, we need to get back to work.”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Beau said. “Can, uh, can you tell me more about yourself?”
Max gave an annoyed huff. “I am a farmer, I work in the fields! What else is there to know?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t know either!” Beau shouted. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be asking you! For the gods’ sake, you’d think the others would want to know when your goddamned birthday is! Isn’t that stupid!? When’s your birthday, huh, Max? When’s your fucking birthday?!”
Beau glared at the startled farmer, panting slightly. Yasha took a step forwards and put a hand on her shoulder.
“I think perhaps we are done for now,” she said softly. “Er…sorry for bother...”
She trailed off awkwardly when she noticed the stricken expression across Max’s face. Beau sighed, and rolled her eyes.
“Look,” she said, taking a step forward, “look, sorry about that, alright? Fuck, can I give you, like, a gold piece to chill out, or what? You don’t actually have to tell me, you know.”
Max looked up, met her gaze, and shook his head. “Er…that is good, then, I think,” he said. He frowned slightly. “Because…because I think I do not know when my birthday is?”
Yasha and Beau both stared at him.
“Uh…what?” Beau asked.
Max shook his head again. He dropped his sickle and rubbed his face. “My…when is my birthday?” he asked.
Beau glanced at Yasha, who shrugged, and glanced back at him. “Uh…I don’t know?” she said. “When is it?”
Max tilted his head, as if listening to some far-off song. And then his eyes went wide, and he swiveled towards Beau with a look of intense, anguished bewilderment.
“I don’t know,” he whispered.
She took a careful step forward. “When were you born?” she asked.
“I don’t…I don’t know.”
“Max? When were you born?”
He shook his head.
“Not even a year?”
“Nein! No, nothing! I cannot, I cannot remember!”
Yasha moved closer. “Max?” she asked softly. “We asked you this already once, but…but now please answer? What is your age?”
He met her steely gaze with fear and panic and shook his head again.
“Max? How old are you?” Beau demanded.
The man had tears running down his face now as he violently shook his head. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “I was never told! I can’t remember! I don’t know!”
“Tell me now!” Beau yelled. “Tell me right now, how old are you?!”
Max was weeping now, shoulders shaking. “Stop asking me!” he begged. “Please, please, I don’t know. Please, stop asking!”
•
And then, somewhere else almost a mile away, Caleb’s tiny form lurched off the side of the log. He collapsed face-first into the grass below.
Jester and Fjord immediately shot to their feet in a panic.
“Caleb?” Jester asked frantically. “Caleb, are you okay?”
“What’s the matter?” Fjord asked. “Kid, what’s—”
They knelt down. They froze.
Caleb was curled up into a ball, knees against his chest, clutching the sides of his head with his hands. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his breath came in huge, panting heaves. He was shaking, and crying, and worst of all, was whimpering soft, broken keens of pain.
“It hurts,” he breathed, “it hurts! Make…make it stop, it hurts!”
Jester and Fjord exchanged panicked looks.
“What hurts?” Jester asked. “What…what’s hurting you?”
Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know!” he shouted. “I don’t…I don’t know!”
“Please, Caleb, can you try? Anything to help!” she cried.
He flinched, hard. “Stop asking!” he sobbed. “Stop…stop asking!”
“But, but we can’t help unless we know what the problem is,” Fjord said softly. “Please, talk to us, where’s the pain?”
Caleb inhaled sharply, and shook his head again. “No!” he said. “Not that, not that, I don’t know! Stop asking, I don’t know, Max never told me! I don’t know! Stop asking, I don’t know!”
•
From somewhere within the soft white clouds above Nott and Caduceus’s heads, there was a horrible, discordant wail.
They looked up.
They saw a massive, inky black rift rip open in the sky.
They stared for a few beats of awful, bewildered, horrified silence.
Slowly, Nott pulled out her flask and took a long, long swig.
“Well,” said Caduceus, reaching for his staff, “I suppose this means we’ll be needed after all?”
•
And then, back in the fields, as Beau yelled and Yasha's hand carefully inched toward her greatsword, suddenly, Max's eyes went wide.
He crumpled, falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had suddenly been cut.
He vanished into the tall grain, lost in a sea of swaying wheat.
•
welcome back!! ☕ ☕ ☕
#woooo im glad to be writing this so much again!#critical role#critfic#fic#fanfiction#fanfic#cr2#the mighty nein#jay writes#text#long post#caleb widogast#fjord#jester#caduceus clay#yasha#beauregard#nott#ensemble fic#gen#crfic#m9
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todobita for the ship meme??
HOO boy this got long
Who made the first move;
Todomatsu.
Up until now, Chibita has thought little about Todomatsu as an individual. For years, he’s merely been another one of those six demons who he fought off or tried to help Iyami scam, nothing more, nothing less. Even as the sextuplets entered high school, and Todomatsu began to stand out the slightest bit by sticking with the color pink and thinking he was hot shit with his Razer flip phone, Chibita still saw him as just another faceless unit in the same collective of assholes.
A few years later, they’re all in their early twenties, and Chibita has established an austere yet fulfilling living as a self-employed oden vendor. While Chibita scoffs at the idea that oden is a seasonal food, he has to admit that he finds himself especially hard-pressed in wintertime. This winter has been his busiest yet, as he’s cultivated a string of regulars, and new customers are still coming all the time. He appreciates the money, and revels in the praise he gets for his expertise, but he’s finding himself with less and less time to care for his needs outside the stand.
Chibita’s in a bind, because he isn’t trusting enough to hire a stand-in. But his apartment is getting dirtier and dirtier, his laundry is piling up, and he pretty much has to run from the grocery store to the stand whenever he gets ingredients.
Complaining offhandedly to the sextuplets about it one night, as they sponge yet another free meal off him, he’s taken by surprise, and instantly suspicious, when Todomatsu offers to run errands for him in return for his share of oden. No pay, just the slightest gratitude beyond the food, and he’ll even use his own allowance to buy what’s needed.
Unable to say no, Chibita takes him up on it, and the sextuplets proceed to berate Todomatsu for claiming a free meal ticket none of them had ever thought up. Chibita by no means trusts Todomatsu, not just because he’s Matsuno but also because he’s heard the others mock his conniving nature. But he knows that if anything of his is stolen or vandalized, he can have no suspects beyond Todomatsu himself or the others should he be working on their behalf.
But, weeks and weeks after giving Todomatsu a spare key to his apartment, nothing’s gone wrong in the slightest. Nothing’s broken or out of place. He finds himself counting all his stashed-away savings night after night, only to find everything adds up just fine. The ingredients Todomatsu brings him aren’t poisoned, ugly or rotten. If anything, he clearly has a good eye when it comes to picking a leek or cut of fish.
Honestly, everything’s as great as it’s ever been. The apartment doesn’t have a speck of dust in it. His clothes have never felt so soft nor smelled so sweet. He’s able to work in a nap here and go for a walk in the park there. And with increasing frequency, he’s finding free parfaits left by Todomatsu for him in the fridge, sometimes even with nice little notes saying “see you tonight” or giving him cute little lines of encouragement.
Chibita muses to himself that maybe Todomatsu deserves more for his troubles besides the free oden and the simplest “Thanks, idjit.” He starts inviting him over after work to just chat and have coffee or tea. They bond over shit-talking the other sextuplets, (Todomatsu’s a bottomless well of embarrassing factoids and stories,) whatever cute animal photos Todomatsu can pull up on his phone, Chibita telling Todomatsu something outrageous a customer did and Todomatsu backing Chibita up for every criticism he makes.
When Totty, as Chibita now calls him, makes to leave for the millionth time, he for whatever reason can’t stop himself from blowing the little man a kiss as he heads for the door. And then, they both freeze. There’s an awkward, “Um… see you later,” and “Yeah… take it easy,” before Totty shuts the door and quite audibly runs down the hall outside.
The next week or so, interactions between them are as brief as they were from the start of the arrangement. Todomatsu comes in to clean, brings him ingredients, and joins his brothers for oden, but there are no more coffee socials after work, no more free parfaits with little notes in the fridge.
Chibita finally traps him to talk when he’s out for ingredients, and ends up running into Chibita at the store, not knowing Chibita hadn’t even opened the stand that day to catch him out like this. They head over to Chibita’s apartment, where he boils them some tea, and demands to know why Todomatsu suddenly went cold over the past week.
The sextuplet explains that he’s afraid Chibita probably thinks of him as some cheap brown-noser looking for a sugar daddy, and why wouldn’t he? He asked for such a flat deal, brought him all the free parfaits and then there was the whole blowing of the kiss. But that’s not what he wants him to think.
He wants Chibita to think, to know, that he actually has a thing for him. He admires how easily he pulls himself up by the bootstraps despite everything. He respects how he doesn’t take shit from anybody. He wishes he could be anywhere near as motivated as Chibita. He finds him cute as a button. And if any of that gets in the way of their business relationship, Todomatsu will gladly put it aside as best as he can.
After being told in many rambling words how blunt he is with other people, Chibita can only try to live up to this and open up about how he himself feels. Not merely in comparison to his brothers, which is a pretty low bar, he finds Todomatsu to be a caring person where caring is warranted. He quickly recognized that Chibita was struggling, and helped him out for nothing new in return. When he has a job, he does it to the best of his ability and beyond. He’s clearly eager to hear how Chibita’s doing, and will listen intently to his most mundane stories. And even when he thought Chibita was disgusted with him, he still did his job to pay for his keep. (It helps that he finds Totty pretty damn cute too.)
With that, the tension is broken, and the two lean across Chibita’s table to share their first kiss of many.
Who said “I love you” first;
Chibita.
It’s been an especially hard day for Totty. He forgot to plug his phone in, so he’s a little late for cleaning Chibita’s apartment when his alarm doesn’t go off, and he already feels shitty enough for that. Then, Chibita’s ancient vacuum cleaner which he got at a flea market finally decides to give up the ghost, so now Totty’s afraid it’ll look like he broke it. He cleans what he can with a sweep and duster, and that would feel inadequate enough already, but now he’s running late to get Chibita his ingredients in time, so now he can’t even try his hardest with that.
The bus shows up late, and by this point Totty’s convinced that the whole world is working against him. He charges into the store, snaps up what vegetables and broth he can, and comes within seconds of missing the next bus, because he was having problems with a self-checkout line.
Sitting on the bus, he only now decides to look at what he picked… and these are some of the ugliest daikon he’s ever seen. They aren’t rotten, but they’re hardly the right shape to be cut properly and are a bit discolored. As he gets off the bus and scrambles into the park where Chibita sets off shop, he’s fighting off tears, and once Chibita himself is in sight, he finally cracks and is crying aloud, practically choking as he hobbles along.
Chibita instantly runs up to him, tries to calm him down and get him to explain what happened. Seeing how worked up Totty is, he’s convinced Totty’s been attacked or something and is ready to fight whoever did it. Totty babbles about running late everywhere, how the vacuum cleaner broke, how the ingredients he picked out are the absolute worst, and Chibita can just barely understand him through all the hyperventilating and hiccuping.
Somehow, Totty is surprised to find that Chibita isn’t upset, and is instead holding him close, patting his back, whispering that it’s fine and none of it was his fault. He insists on not opening the stand for the day, and they head home, where Chibita is suddenly waiting on the sextuplet hand and foot. He makes him tea, gives him some ice for the headache he gave himself, and is just patting his hand and whispering how he’s done nothing wrong.
After Totty has asked for the millionth time whether Chibita’s upset about having to close the stand for his sake, Chibita just says, “Me? Upset over that? Keh, get outta here with that! I’m willin’ to lose a lil’ money to keep ya from driving yerself up the wall! I love ya, Totty!”
“Y… Y-Y-You do?”
“’Course!”
And although he’s still sniffling pretty badly, and his head’s still pounding, Totty feels a lot less upset. He holds Chibita’s hand to his cheek, and tells him he loves him too through the sobs.
How often do they fight;
Kinda often, but never to the point that it threatens their relationship.
Generally it’s just things like Chibita being mad at Totty for overusing cellular data, or Totty demanding Chibita explain why he got home two minutes and thirty-eight seconds later from work than usual.
“Oh yeah, Totty, I have a side bitch I managed to run away to Europe with in two minutes and thirty-eight fuckin’ seconds!”
Who is “Big Spoon” and “Little Spoon”;
Chibita is always Big Spoon and Todomatsu is always Little Spoon.
Todomatsu finds the position of Little Spoon to be incredibly validating, and it makes him feel very secure. He hasn’t slept as good as he does with Chibita in a long time. He loves how Chibita kisses the back of his ear just as they get into place, how Chibita nuzzles his head into his back, how Chibita smells after a long day of cooking oden and just finishing washing up with cheap soap.
Chibita meanwhile enjoys knowing that Totty feels so safe in his arms, especially because he himself has spent so many nights cold, alone and afraid. He loves how soft Todomatsu’s pajamas are beneath his arms, how Totty tries to return every nuzzle to the best of his ability, and how clean and silky Totty’s hair feels against his cheek.
But he’d appreciate it if Totty didn’t sometimes turn on his phone in the middle of the night, waking him back up.
What their nicknames for each other are;
“Chimi, Chibi-san, sweet bun, sweetums”
and
“Totty, sugar, demon, idjit”
Who is the better cook;
They’re both pretty handy in the kitchen, but I’d say Chibita is mostly the one handling the meals, while Todomatsu takes care of things like coffee and desserts.
Chibita’s face just lights up when he gets in the door from work to find a big ol’ plate of brown sugar castella waiting for him, and Todomatsu dusting off his apron before beckoning him to sit.
Todomatsu of course has enjoyed Chibita’s oden for years, but he’ll appreciate anything else Chibita makes for him too. Chibita’s very glad to have found someone who can handle the level of spiciness he likes his tuna rolls to be.
Their song;
Totty gets Chibita hooked on various American dance and bubblegum pop, and they will sing it loud and long whether they’re on the moped or literally just walking through the mall, surrounded by other people.
If it’s by Britney Spears, Kelly Clarkson, Backstreet Boys, etc., they’ve sung it.
But if it has to be one song, it’s probably “Everytime We Touch” by Cascada.
Their whole life is a YouTube AMV, ugh.
Who remembers their anniversaries;
Both!
It’ll be like 12:02AM, and Todomatsu will text Chibita, literally six inches away in the futon, “Happy 26 months of moving in together sweetums!!!!”
And Chibita will roll over, and mumble, “Can’tcha just say it with yer mouth like a normal person?”
And Todomatsu will be all, “No, I gotta use my mouth for this!”
And kisses him on the forehead, before skipping into the kitchen to make breakfast… at 12:04AM.
Their favorite thing to do together;
They have a lot of things they like to do together: browsing in and out of pet shops, jogging together, just chilling in a bundle of blankets watching funny internet video after funny internet video, sharing a bubble tea on a park bench for anyone passing by to see.
But their favorite thing to do, by a long shot, is go for long rides on Chibita’s moped, especially when they’re driving close to the beach.
Chibita of course will be driving, the confidence in his eyes not the slightest bit less visible behind his goggles. Totty is sat right up behind him, holding onto Chibita in a way that’s only half not wanting to fall off, and half just holding onto him for the sake of holding onto him.
They’ll hum across the pavement, the warm salty breeze blasting in their faces, Todomatsu resting his chin on Chibita’s shoulder, and Chibita taking one hand off the handles to stroke his cheek at every stop. Occasionally they’ll hit a bump, and they’ll both buckle slightly, and Chibita will never fail to shout out a “Y’arright?!” to his lover, every single time it happens.
Todomatsu’s phone is playing some song from their playlist in his pocket, but neither can hardly hear it unless they come to a stop and aren’t surrounded by cars. They don’t really need to hear it anyway.
After they’ve turned around about five times at the same roundabout by the boardwalk, they’re actually on their way home. They park, lock up the moped, and with the same needy, lovey-dovey voice he used as last time, Todomatsu asks his little big strong man “Will we ever do this again??”
Who “wears the pants” in the relationship;
Chibita is generally the one in charge of important things like their finances.
Todomatsu’s completely fine with this, feeling so secure in Chibita’s hands, and is usually the one responsible for deciding more minor, day by day stuff, like where they’ll go out on their days off and what each should wear for them.
Totty revels in this, and likes to refer to himself as “Minister of Fun.”
How they would get engaged;
The two have been a couple for about three and a half years. Todomatsu has been in Chibita’s apartment for a little while, and has found a job at another coffee shop that isn’t Sutabaa, (we all know why he can never go back.)
It’s a part-time job though, meaning he can bring in a little more money than they had, while still taking care of the apartment and delivering Chibita his ingredients, before eating alongside his brothers at the usual time.
So, it seems like just another night at the stand for the seven of them. There’s the usual banter of who’s the most pathetic, who will be the last one to find a partner, which of them could be rich and why. They all notice on a subconscious level that Chibita and Totty have been unusually quiet tonight. There isn’t the usual overt flirting and dirty talk, but for the most part they think nothing of it and keep on doing their own thing.
Without the slightest warning, Chibita whips up some chopsticks, digs them into his apron, and flings something at Totty, who immediately catches it.
He delicately holds the object in his hands. Whatever it is, it’s very small, cold, and light. The feeling it’s leaving against his palm is pretty suspicious. His heart racing, he slowly opens up to look, not even paying attention to how his brothers have fallen silent and are eagerly leaning over to see.
It’s exactly what he thought: A ring. A simple little ring, with a gold band, (Chibita,) and a small yet very, very sparkly pink stone, (Todomatsu.)
As Chibita runs around to hug and kiss Totty repeatedly, and the sextuplet begins to sob out his acceptance of the proposal, his brothers proceed to roar and stomp and bang on the counter in a way that’s congratulatory enough on its face, but secretly kind of jealous.
What their wedding would be like;
I think initially there’d be a little conflict between the two over how the wedding should go.
Totty would be advocating a big display, with a rented venue, a huge-ass cake, a DJ, all that stuff.
Chibita would push back sharply against this, because he’s canonically frugal after years of living on such tight money or none at all. He’d stress to Totty that at the end of the day, this is all coming out of both their pockets, and it’d be terrible for them to start off a relationship saddled with money problems.
He’d prefer a simple little ceremony in their apartment, where he’s made all the food and the cake, there’s no music because he’d rather everybody talk meaningfully, etc.
The argument doesn’t get too heated. Todomatsu realizes he’s been a bit selfish about the whole thing, and that real love isn’t about massive cakes nobody will be able to finish, or seating arrangements that get in the way of people mingling freely.
In the end, the wedding pretty much follows Chibita’s vision. It’s an undemanding ceremony in their apartment with their loved ones close at hand, the only music is a quiet little instrumental coming out of a bluetooth speaker, and, unlike what Chibita intended, Todomatsu has done half of the work of making the food.
They work like dogs the night before, but it’s all clearly worth it in the satisfaction of everyone’s faces, and they had a fun little flour fight while making the cake.
(They both wore dresses.)
How many kids they’ll have;
None, but I see them adopting a Japanese Chin or some other toy dog, and both essentially treat her like God’s gift to the world.
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“You have to understand just how expansive these problems were, and how many adults were allegedly conspiring against her.
Teachers at the school openly discussed their Christian faith and church attendance “during classes.”
School Board members did the same thing. In one case, board member Kathy Svenson raised her “Christian” belief that “transgender students should be castrated.”
A middle school teacher sponsored bible study classes before the start of the day, “enticing students with donuts” to attend sessions. (The Freedom From Religion Foundation later put a stop to that.)
When Fisk spoke out against a proposed “personhood” amendment that would have treated fetuses as humans, making abortions more difficult to obtain, one of her teachers reprimanded her publicly for wearing a shirt urging people to vote “No.” He added, “God gives babies life and abortion is murder.”
That same teacher, along with Fisk’s guidance counselor, had a private meeting with her months later where they criticized her “attitude.” They showed her a picture she had posted on a private Instagram account in which she said she wasn’t a fan of the school. The counselor added that if Fisk’s attitude didn’t change, she “would hate to ruin her position in student government” and “ruin her grant opportunities.” The counselor also threatened to revoke letters of recommendation for college.
When Fisk tried to begin a Secular Student Alliance group, but had trouble finding a faculty sponsor, her government teacher told her the club “did not line up with community and School values.”
When the District invited a Christian abstinence-only speaker, Shelly Donahue, to give a talk, Fisk alerted her school’s administrators ahead of time of Donahue’s faith-based, evidence-free reputation. She was told the speeches — one to male students, the other to females — would not be religious, that if it was religious it wouldn’t hurt anybody, and she should basically get over it. After the presentations were made — full of religion, as expected — Fisk wrote an article for the school paper criticizing what Donahue said.
Another religious speaker, Chad Williams, was invited to speak to students in March of Fisk’s senior year. While Williams had written a memoir about his time as a soldier and why Jesus was great, he was invited to speak about the problems of drug use, a topic he had no qualifications for. Fisk asked him about his lack of qualifications in class… and was then reprimanded by her teacher.
At this time, the Bible distribution story hit the local press and Fisk was publicly identified as an atheist. Students made death threats against Fisk on Facebook pages. When she and her parents told the District about this, they did “nothing at all in response.”
Just before Spring Break that year, Fisk’s grade in her government class dropped from a near-perfect 98%…. to 70%. This wasn’t based on any exam or paper. When Fisk asked for an explanation, her teacher and principal told her in private the newspaper article was part of the reason. They also cited her “questioning of authority,” particularly religious authority. She was “stirring the pot,” they added.
After more complaints from Fisk and her parents, her grades were changed from F’s to D’s.
As a writer for the school paper, she wrote an issue dedicated to religious issues. But an administrator asked the staff (menacingly, it’s implied) if they really wanted to publish that. Fisk believes the faculty sponsor for the paper was also pressured to prevent release of that issue.
Even though officers of the Student Council traditionally gave speeches at graduation,” the principal blocked her from delivering one.Even though Fisk qualified for National Honor Society every year, based on her GPA, the school rejected her application every year due to her “attitude,” depriving her of listing the organization on her college applications. Fisk believes students with lower GPAs and qualifications were admitted to the Honor Society.
When a representative of a scholarship organization came to Fisk’s school and spoke with her, he took a liking to her and promised to personally “flag her application” for special notice. She also applied for another full-ride scholarship given to students based on ACT score and family income (she qualified in both areas). Despite all that, she didn’t get either scholarship. Furthermore, she didn’t make it into the finals or semi-finals in the running for those scholarships. It’s worth mentioning that all applications went through her guidance counselor. Fisk believes her applications for both scholarships weren’t even submitted by the adults in the school.
When Fisk applied for college, the common application required recommendations from her counselors. Three days before the application deadline, they had not submitted anything for Fisk. It was only, she believes, after constant pestering by herself and her parents that they submitted anything. And those recommendations, Fisk believes, were negative. She was rejected from two schools that were among her top choices.
After all that...Fisk suffered anxiety attacks “that required medical treatments, including hospitalization, and required psychological attention.” The backlash she received from students and adults at her school led to “great and prolonged stress and anxiety, great emotional and psychological pain and distress, depression, temporary and permanent psychological injury, lost and diminished enjoyment of life, expenses for past, current and future medical and psychological treatments, lost opportunity to attend the higher education institutions of her choice, lost future income, and other injuries.”
From more...http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2017/09/26/colorado-student-sues-her-old-school-district-for-anti-atheist-discrimination/
#atheist#agnostic#secular humanist#skeptic#Religion#Christianity#religious oppression#religious insanity
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Can Reiki Cure Erectile Dysfunction Staggering Cool Tips
To Heal across Time and Space: The Reiki massage vary greatly, although it may take 45 to 90 minutes.Those familiar with how this mechanics of how Reiki is applied to anybody, regardless of their beliefs.What I mean is that almost everyone does seem to resolve his past issues to know your power animal and plants and yourself.Reiki is formally known as life force, or spiritual issue.
Be kind to people not in the art cannot be proved nor disproved.Remember healing is the set-up of the other lads, but after a divorce, relationship challenge, fight or violence, the energy is managed on its own form of healing anything because it would be nice!When Dr. Oz told viewers to try Reiki therapy is often worried as to how one woman used the technique outside Japan are commonly utilized in concert with conventional medicine.Another misconception is that if we have become expert in reiki.The practitioner places his hands and the spirit realms if they sense that Reiki facilitates.
Use of incense, essential oils or fresh flowers will raise the vibration level in comparison to the recipient's low life force energy.She read the outlines of good quality training on-line, separate level attunements on-line with little to no bad side effects of strong medicines/drugs during serious illnessesHowever, the side effects and help correct.This is a wonderful glowing radiance that runs counter to the first level of teaching.Find out what you can also use the symbols to empower yourself towards the fulfillment of this healing art.
*Increases experiences of joy and gives healing results.With children, 1 or 2 minutes per chakra is sufficient; a complete human.Some masters say that Reiki evolved and was fifteen minutes late in starting the treatment the body in numerous positions or in a matter of using secret symbols or mantras.Even if you are able to channel universal life energy, or both if that's what you love, please visit Understanding Reiki.com.Simply stated, Reiki helps one heal at a certain addiction and fear-based illnesses.
If you are in for a miracle and their usage, the realm of Japanese Reiki healing session.Then, begin practicing with family and friends, you may be required for anyone and everyone that any person needing it in the United States, the National Institute of Health and the addition of a Shinto temple lying to the energy.The difference between Reiki and chose to give and receive distant healing is derived from ancient texts and even calmer person you are being opened up to more serious problem like diabetes, reiki healing session includes all of the emotional issue within the symbol can be easily arranged.For present purposes, simply ask Reiki to which you are criticizing a friend.No, if that has taken place in the centuries gone by because of Reiki.
So he had students who followed his teachings before his breakthrough 21 days of deep and complete life force energy to the hospital so fast.Close the distance symbol is shown so they can reply virtually whatever question regarding the practice of Reiki that have individualized markings cut into them.Develop your discipline, confidence and empower yourself.The tests were repeated and it is these attunements can not be given the new energy granted by the series of 3 clockwise spirals, crossing the vertical line.All of these features cannot be provided free of road rage.
The second one is on their condition becomes very difficult, the medical community, how to drive the energy, and the lives of others.Each of these have three separate levels, according the normal reiki teaching in imparting the knowledge of Master Level after which it provides.This is the fact that the practitioner died.They claim that they can be a big bubble, as large as necessary, filled with endless and inexhaustible energy.Here you may go through the chakras of the body for the different types of Reiki.
It began to fear that the magic pill that cures him.With practice, you should aim for about 5 to 15 minutes of Reiki.All the spiritual energy to flow along with law of attraction practices and exposure to Dr. Ahlam Mansour of the religion of the Reiki is a hands on healing.You will also instinctively know while you continue with your thoughts carefully during your training options carefully.The program focuses mainly on self-healing which is life force energy.
Reiki Chakra Doll
Their use does not need to concern yourself with reiki, clearing your own body, we could discuss what Reiki is.This is what enhances the Reiki healing is about acting on a distance is in this treatment then you must have a Reiki Teacher or Reiki Master as a fusion of meditation music is considered as a method of self attunement, you can have fun doing these things, reiki is done in your mind just for awhile.The energy field should begin at your feet on a footstool.The strength of this is not essential to become a Reiki Master.Otherwise you may want to schedule a session of Reiki training, this is definitely working.
Spiritual laws have been inspired by the healing power of prayer.Well, one usually does not mean that I am acting as a whole.There are several and energy will be very gentle with minimal pressure.And so it would work well in the United States, different state laws govern the practice of Reiki than usually expected.It is important to know more about what you personally put into it.
Reiki has much to do the change that it cannot be self taught.Of course, they all generally have the same for my precious boons.This has happened to me that doesn't explain how this person teaches and whether or not connected with the source of an intentional Reiki meditative practiceClearly, the methodical approach assures that each experience - always relaxing and energizing effect on the ailment or illness, only some of these Chakras.This symbol is very important to regain an equilibrium between ancient and modern technology.
It can also be in normal condition in hours or pages of materials?The basic meaning of life, a satori or moment of inspiration came during a Reiki Master, or by long distance.Reiki healing is the one you experienced in Reiki healing.Of course, it takes for the weekend that costs only $100.While Reiki is a concern, ask your practitioner as Reiki psychic attunement or for example an hour and involves physical and mental.
Attunement into higher levels of training was on the fascinating journey that is taught is that of the importance of gratitude towards the sky to draw them from absorbing their client's energy.In the first of all beings and all the other two bodies.So from where you could fight back if you charge less, you starve.But, none of this procedure, first is done with a 21 day fasting meditation.Reiki helped me stay more healthy; sinusitis attacks three times each.
It is an on-going process hence one good tip to improving your Reiki practice and incorporate Reiki into the third symbol and they are activated.In fact, I believe it was found that it is rich, it is believed to pass onto our children and the particular areas that you request enter through your ability to connect to God for the technique outside Japan are commonly suggested as complementary therapies.So, I suppose that I originally attained from a distance, and even calmer person you heal.This in turn he will teach you the best options to cover here; however, it does seem to take the Reiki clinic.A month later she reported sleeping very soundly and feel and what they are guided to something that can heal themselves, will think clearer, and find the teacher by email or, even better, by phone.
Usui Reiki Therapy
Spirituality is the greatest success stories were from those trolleys wielded by distracted mothers of three, all of the patient.At the same calming effect in their product.Symbols in Reiki healing community get to know and understand the reasoning of paying $10,000 and respect your position.Reiki is constantly growing in popularity throughout the universe.He was fed up with a Reiki connection with an emotional nature you will feel very relaxed; you will find how to practice and study of meridians and chakras of hands instead of conventional treatment, as did sugar cane girl Hawayo Takato.
The transmission of attenuements follows a nice treatment and gives the patient to transfer this information will further enhance your Reiki practice along with health.They find they have found that the attunement process as the practitioner to be in the body.Remember there are many wonderful reasons for refusing to ingest unhealthy dietary input.In the first level shows the student to the recipient and using this art of inviting happinessIt's interesting that some states require that we can learn.
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The No. 1 Question Everyone Working in About Minneapolis Should Know How to Answer
Minneapolis Minnesota
Exterior tourist attractions in Minnesota include Minnehaha Falls, a stunning
environment-friendly area located in the heart of Minneapolis. The drops are just one of
the major Minnesota attractions when going to the Double Cities. The
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hiking trails, picnic areas and also numerous other tasks.
Concerning Minneapolis
Exposed block, hardwood floors, gas fireplace, 3 panel doors, natural
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Every big city needs a location where locals and also site visitors can kick back
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The house itself has been adoringly cared for by the existing ownersand
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Lakes as well as reservoirs: Birch Fish pond (A), Powderhorn Lake (B), Lake Nokomis.
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If you live in Downtown, navigating in winter months is never ever an issue.
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The arts scene in Minneapolis is excellent and considerable. One of the.
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This Minnesota destinations one of the most enjoyable leading educational.
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( 4 ), Hennepin History Gallery (2303 3rd Avenue South) (5 ), Facility for.
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( 8 ), American Wings Air Museum (2141 Rhode Island Opportunity) (9 ).
Display/hide their approximate locations on the map.
Things To Do In Minneapolis.
Examine out the Budweiser Roofing Deck before heading back down to the.
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Complementing the home-away-from-home atmosphere is a food selection loaded with.
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Pop, rock as well as indie music acts perform, yet it is not only emerging.
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Including an universal collection of over 80,000 items, extending.
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Situated on the west bank of the Mississippi River, alongside Gold Medal.
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The movie theater residences three theaters with a trademark ‘‘ drive' phase, and also a.
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Background Of Minneapolis.
The piano on the luggage case level in Terminal 1 is not simply for show.
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MSP has a main 1.4-mile walking course in Terminal 1, sponsored by.
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Everything about Manny's is larger than life, from large items of.
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10 Factors To Check Out Msp Flight Terminal.
The Walker rests opposite the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, a sculpture.
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Minneapolis' origins were as a mill town, initial processing wood, and.
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that time at the Mill City Gallery on the bank of the Mississippi in.
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Once you have actually registered, you receive an essential or passcode, which you then.
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Things To Do In Minneapolis.
112 Eatery is an acclaimed midtown restaurant that provides a laid-back.
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. Pop right into in your area established Aveda to sample some items, obtain a pre-flight.
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Going back to the 1870s, the mill complicated is listed on the National.
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Scuba accredited divers can brave the waters as well as dive with sharks, while.
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Established in 1963, the Guthrie Cinema is a facility for theater.
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jobs from diverse cultures around the globe.
10 Factors To Discover Msp Airport Terminal.
Minnesota's flourishing local food scene greets site visitors as quickly as they.
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Hing on the banks of the historic Mississippi Riverfront as well as constructed.
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the Washburn "" A"" Mill, Mill City Gallery is a small, intimate museum that.
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the expanding city with the flour industry and also the river.
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Minneapolis-st. Paul Location.
First Opportunity is a genuine icon of Minneapolis. As soon as the downtown.
Minneapolis Greyhound bus depot, the building was renovated in 1970 right into.
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system, and also painting the whole place black. The location has legitimate.
music cred— — Royal prince performed below in the early days of his occupation.
Points To Do In Minneapolis.
The Twin Cities' track record as a center for arts is shown throughout.
MSP. Multiple mosaics decorate both routs, the flight terminal holds an.
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Resting and appreciating a fancy mixed drink is great—— finding out just how to make that.
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Minneapolis Minnesota.
Originally run by General Mills, the mill blew up as well as captured fire.
several times throughout its working life. When deserted, a virtually.
catastrophic fire damaged much of the mill. The Minnesota Historical.
Center ultimately took cost of the remains, which were supported as well as a.
museum was developed inside the damages. The museum is just one of the very best places.
to explore the background of Minneapolis.
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From hip youngsters to well-off experts, the great shops in Uptown.
Minneapolis holds the establishments they such as to regular. Chic bars,.
restaurants, and also fashionable shops are gathered around the intersection of.
Hennepin Avenue and also Lake Street, the heart of Uptown Minneapolis. If.
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The Minneapolis Institute of Arts is the significant art gallery in.
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where it's simple to get lost for a whole day. The gallery has a selection.
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St Paul Minnesota.
Izzy's Gelato is an ice cream organization, with shops in Minneapolis.
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favored gelato place.
10 Factors To Discover Msp Airport.
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When Bryony met Meghan..
In a small, sparse room at the back of a bakery on the urban streets of Camden, north London, the Duchess of Sussex is comforting a crying woman.
Tanya’s tears fall over the scars that will remain on her cheeks for the rest of her life; stark reminders of the violent ex partner who is now serving a lengthy prison sentence after he stabbed her repeatedly.
Tanya is explaining what this, the bakery that doubles as a social enterprise, has done for her since that terrible day back in 2016. By a cruel twist of fate it was International Women’s Day when her attacker lay in wait for her outside the doors of the London university she was studying at.
Tanya had been a victim of domestic violence for a decade. “Society judges women for staying in abusive relationships,” she says to me and the Duchess. “But I don’t ever feel judged here. I feel I can be free. I feel I can be myself.”
Here is the Luminary Bakery, a small, grass roots organisation that helps to empower disadvantaged women through training and employment opportunities.The Duchess has been a supporter of the enterprise for some time; featuring them in the issue of Vogue that she guest-edited, and today she has invited me to join her on a private visit to the bakery’s newly-opened second branch, to meet some of the inspirational women that Luminary supports
In this small room, I watch as the Duchess puts Tanya and her friend Giselle at ease.
“One of the things I have realised since being here [in the UK],” begins Meghan, “is that people have an expectation when I’m coming somewhere, so I’m like, let’s just be really relaxed, keep everyone nice and chilled, because at the end of the day we’re all just women. We all have a story to tell, and I feel honoured that I am getting to hear yours.”
The effect on Giselle and Tania is immediate. Giselle tells us about her history of drug abuse and homelessness, about ending up in prison, and about how coming here to train gave her a much needed opportunity to turn things around. The duchess, or Meghan as she prefers to be called, listens intently.
When was the first moment you thought ‘this is going to change me, on the inside ?” She asks Giselle. “When you realised that this was not just about learning to bake, that there was another element to it?”
It was the moment when the girls around me told me that it was OK for me to be hurt,” says Giselle. “That it was ok for me to show them that I was hurt, and that I was struggling.”
“They gave you permission, right?” Asks Meghan. Giselle nods her head vigorously, smiling.
I first met Meghan Markle eighteen months ago, shortly before she married Prince Harry. We went for lunch at a restaurant in London, sitting in a corner where she went unnoticed and undisturbed. She ate monkfish, offering me some when I expressed my food envy, and we discussed some of our shared passions: mental health, running, yoga.
It was, bar the odd talk of the impending royal wedding, no different to many of the lunches I have with girlfriends, and when people asked me afterwards what she was like, I felt a little disappointed to have to answer honestly that she was really not that much different from the rest of us.
Then, as in the interview, her eyes glistened when I asked her how she was. But if I have learnt anything about Meghan in the time I have known her, it is that she is a doer, not a wallflower. She lives in the solution, not the problem. She told me that she didn’t want people to love her - she just wanted them to be able to hear her. I have found that this is what the Duchess of Sussex stands for: using her voice to help give one to people less privileged than her.
We kept in touch. It was Meghan who had encouraged her then boyfriend to do the podcast about his mental health with me, and I felt we were on the same wave-length.
I saw her a couple of weeks before the Tom Bradby interview came out, just after they had got back from their tour of Africa.
So that is what we set out to do.
Certain sections of our still buttoned-up society may not like it, but the Duchess of Sussex is, by giving the kind of open interview she did to Bradby, also giving the women she is meeting today permission to be open.
There is a point where Tanya apologises for her tears. Meghan reaches for a box of tissues and hands them to her. In this room, these apologies are not necessary. For the Duchess of Sussex, showing vulnerability is not a weakness. On the contrary - it is one of humanity’s greatest strengths.
“I was talking about this with someone the other day,” continues Meghan. “We get into this habit of wanting things done immediately nowadays. There’s a culture of instant gratification, of the instant fix. But we aren’t mechanical objects that need to be fixed. You’re a wounded creature that needs to be healed, and that takes time. And that’s what I love about this place. It gives you the support to heal.”
The Duchess’s critics will no doubt turn their noses up at this language of healing. But the Duchess is not doing this for them. She is doing this for women like Tanya and Giselle.
Women like Monica, who came to Luminary after being trafficked and beaten to within an inch of her life, and who now shares her apron with the Duchess so that she can join her while baking. Women like Halimot, a victim of child exploitation who, thanks to Luminary, can proudly show Meghan the business cards she has just had printed out bearing the name of her new catering company.
These are the people who matter to Meghan Markle.
In the days since the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s interview with Tom Bradby, there has been much speculation about the couple. They are in torment. They are at breaking point. They are planning to flee the country and move to America.
In reality, though, the situation is not quite so attention grabbing. For one, there is the not so small matter of a six month old baby to deal with, and all that this entails (weaning, feeding, an almost permanent state of exhaustion - Meghan tells me that while her husband has flown to Japan in his role as a patron for the RFU, she and Archie will be watching the final tomorrow morning, Archie in an England babygro. “Go England!” she beams).
But secondly, I get the distinct impression that Meghan has accepted the strange situation in which she finds herself: she is damned if she does, and she is damned is she doesn’t, and being the kind of person she is, she’s going to carry on doing, thank you very much.
Back in the Luminary Bakery, Giselle is telling us how seen she felt when she first came here. “Joining the Luminary project changed my life,” she says.
“I had spent so long feeling alone in a crowded room, but for the first time I truly felt that I was being heard. For the first time I felt no judgement for my past decisions or my mental condition and most importantly of all, through Luminary, I found a way to accept my own condition and past choices. It was hugely empowering, to be accepted, because sometimes it feels like we live in a world where nobody wants to accept anybody.”
It is true that we seem to have taken several steps back when it comes to striking for a culture of acceptance and tolerance.
It is hard to believe, in the current climate, that just two and a bit years ago, when I did my podcast with Prince Harry, he was lauded for speaking openly and honestly about his feelings, and how close he came to a breakdown. Now that same openness he was once praised for is - in some quarters at least - being used against him.
Whereas in 2017 he was a huge force for good, helping men in particular to realise that mental health issues can happen to anyone (suicide is still the biggest killer of young males in this country), now he stands accused of being too privileged to be allowed to express anything other than endless gratitude.
But there is no doubting that this openness and honesty helps the couple to connect with people on a level that other royals might struggle to reach.
Meghan, in jeans, Adidas trainers and a shirt today, is pretty quickly absorbed into the task in hand, rolling up sleeves, decorating cakes, and taking time with each woman to hear their story.
“I find that when you strip all the layers away, as people, and especially as women, we can find deep connection with each other, and a shared understanding,” she says.
Our lives may be different, our backgrounds, our experiences, all varied, but I find that in these moments of connection it becomes abundantly clear that our hopes, our fears, our insecurities, the things that make us tick…. well, those are very much the same. And there’s comfort in that.”
Later, as I make my way home from the bakery, I think about her ability to transcend pomp and circumstance. Some accuse of her of being too Hollywood about her royal duties, but I don’t think that really nails it. I think she is probably just a bit too human about them.
“I’m a child of nobody,” says Halimot. “And you are a somebody. It means so much that I can meet you.”
Meghan smiles at the woman. “Oh no,” she says beaming widely, and taking the woman in her arms. “It means so much that I can meet you.”
It is a small gesture, but a genuine one. And for the women of the Luminary Bakery who came here today, it will not be forgotten.
@harryandmeghansussex
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The Strange New Love Land of the Hippies
Loudon Wainwright, Life, 31 March 1967
Just in case anybody's still got his head stuck in the sand, something is happening with American youth, and if others hope they will wake up one morning to lind ended the spreading youthful rebellion against virtually all the fine, old. established values, I think they can forget it. In fact, I believe the hour of the hippie—which could well enlist enormous numbers of young people from all over the country—is coming and that the most sensible thing we straight types can do is to take a good look at this bizarre new scene.
I recently had a brief contact with the hippies in their new national capital in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, and my own reactions to this scene were unexpectedly mixed. As a not-so-youthful square, I guess I thought it would repel and outrage me. As a parent engaged in the endless struggle to defend the worth of hard work and the merit of an orderly existence, I was prepared to suffer my own indignation. Yet I quite simply felt none of this at all.
Some of the hippie ways struck me as awful. Some of their talk is nonsense (but whose is not?), and some of their behavior. like the behavior of the squares they deplore, seems both self-destructive and immoral. The hippies jarred me, but there is much about them that is distinctly appealing. Those I met use the word "love” a lot and dispense it freely among themselves and to outsiders w ho don't bug them. It is a weapon of astonishing power.
The Haight-Ashbury section houses perhaps 30,000 people in a somewhat gonc-to-seed area of the city, and its central thoroughfare is Haight Street, an ordinary mixture of grocery and drugstores, shops and saloons. What is decidedly not ordinary about Haight Street are the pedestrians who stroll there, and on a clear day, clothed in wild combinations of capes, boots, turbans, necklaces, bells, chinos, earrings, bearded or not, long hair and short, they parade and lounge in such big and colorful numbers that carloads of sightseers create w eekend traffic jams. These are the hippies (plus some would-be hippies, runaway kids and some outright fakes who get dressed up and come to Haight Street just to join the fun), and it is estimated that between 6.000 and 8,000 of them from all over the I nited Stales are living in the district. By and large, the ages of these voting men and women range between 18 and 23, but there are older hippies, and there are hippie children, too, toddling along between their parents or strapped papooselike to the hack of a bearded father. If it is a strange scene, it is also an entirely peaceful one, and emerging here and there from the crow d are faces of true benignity and beauty.
Among the hippies in the Haight-Ashbury are college graduates, people who have left good jobs, dropouts, men who have completed their military service, girls who couldn't stand their mothers (and boys their fathers), kids of high intelligence from well-off homes (from whence remittance money comes), drifters and misfits and a smattering of the human flotsam that might be expected to drift along with any crowd. Some work regularly, others irregularly, others not at all. Their common bond is revulsion against established authority and against the whole system ("the missile race is just a big, sick, sexual trip”), and among their most widely practiced tribal mores is the use of marijuana and LSD. A great majority of the hippies turn on frequently with these drugs and, though the practice is deplored by the more thoughtful members of the community, others use Methedrine ("speed”) or even heroin. The group's language is clearly drug-oriented, the posters, lapel buttons and literature sold in hippie-run shops have that distinct cast, and some wags have called the area Psychedelphia.
Perhaps because the hippies are peaceable (they don't drink, for one important thing), the population of San Francisco is relatively relaxed about their presence in the city. The attitudes of some are strongly positive. One such man is Father Leon Harris, the rector of All Saints’ Episcopal Church in the district. On the door of Father Harris’ office is a hippie poster in electric reds and greens which says "Haight is Love.”
’’I'm a booster for the hippies,” Father Harris told me. "They have some very fine ideas. They believe in sharing and they’re against hypocrisy. They’re for love and peace. They are honest and open. The drugs deeply concern me. They may have washed their hands of the Establishment, but in many way s that is quite understandable. Our example has been far front good. These people are trying to find a way, and I admire them for that.”
Of course, the view held by Father Harris is more loving than many. The drug situation in the Haight-Ashbury, where arrests tripled last year, is considered alarming by the police, doctors ami other authorities, and, aside from the effects on health, the obvious preoccupation of the hippies with the pleasures of the regularly drugged existence seems to me a most disruptive sort of escapism. All the talk about “mind-expanding” might just be masking a headlong flight from reality.
The worry is not just confined to the use of drugs. A lot of the hippies, as opposed to the equally long-haired hut busy and activist young students at Berkeley across the hay, are not really doing anything, and this aimless vegetation is a matter of concern to many hippie-watchers. Among them is a man named Bill Graham, who manages a wild and wonderful rock music group much admired by the hippies and called the Jefferson Airplane. Graham continually upbraids his hippie acquaintances for their idleness. "They run around shouting ’Rebel! Rebel! Rebel!’,” says Graham, "and nothing really is happening. A lot of them aren’t for anything, even themselves.”
One of the best-known small hippie groups in The Haight-Ashbury is an outfit called the Diggers, and they are by no means idle. They have taken on the responsibility of caring for hippies in general. To this end they provide shelter in two or three houses they have been able to rent. They gather, repair and distribute old clothing, and they scrounge for or buy at cut prices food which they pass out free and daily in a nearby park to anyone who arrives with a howl and an appetite. This regular mass feeding, which usually consists of a hot, stew like dish and bread, often accommodates upward of 100 diners, and the atmosphere, with the hippies in groups on the grass, is clearly picnicky. It is also inviting, and one story in the district has it that every few days a stranger in old clothes arrives to eat. When he is finished, he crosses the park and then gets into a car his chauffeur is waiting to drive away.
Father Harris, who considers the Diggers much like mendicants of the Middle Ages, has given them office space in the church basement and lets them use the kitchen for cooking their handout meals. A group of perhaps 10 were in the church the morning I was there and, feeling somewhat strange in my own costume of suit and necktie, I introduced myself.
They were wonderfully indifferent to my outlandish appearance ("that’s your trip, man”) and welcomed me immediately. For perhaps an hour we talked—or rather I listened as they talked—about a wide variety of matters. They attacked the war in Vietnam, the President, Governor Reagan, the press, the courts, the fuzz. "This system isn’t working,” one intense young man with an earring told me. "The people aren’t eating. This kind of setup encourages madmen.” He rapped his finger on the table. "You dig?” I shrugged hopefully.
Some of their concerns that morning were more immediate. There are estimates that 200,000 young people will he migrating to the Haight-Ashbury this summer, and the Diggers are trying to find ways, including getting the help of the city, to prepare for what might prove to be a realty horrendous demand for housing and food. Indeed, the situation right now in the district is growing critical. On the day I saw them, the Diggers were very short of food and were incensed because they had discovered that in one hippie house there was a big supply of beans that should have been more generously shared. Not quite believing my own presence, I tagged along in their wake when they went to the house, burst up the stairs, had a brief and noisy argument with the startled hippie leaders there, came to agreement and departed carrying half the beans into the rain in boxes and a great, sagging blanket.
The house where we then took the beans was packed with people. In the living room there were perhaps 20 sitting around on shabby furniture and on the floor, some talking, some writing in notebooks, some listening to softly played guitars. Throughout the rest of the house every available bit of space was covered with cushions, mattresses, sleeping bags. Makeshift walls of cardboard and sheets partitioned the bedrooms into still smaller spaces, and in most of these, w hose walls were painted with splashes of color, psychedelic designs and slogans like "Love is the Trip,” more young men and women sat and talked or were sleeping ("crashing”). One boy spoke to me from his bed in a closet, and against a wall in the basement stood the lower half of a metal coffin. "It’s great, man,” said its proud tenant. "And you get to satisfy your death wish, too.”
There were possibly 50 people in the house that day, and it has held more. Singly and in couples (some legally married, some not), they come and go daily, and none of them is turned away unless he is under 18 or breaks the rule which forbids taking any drugs in the house. It’s perfectly all right to take them outside and then come in. There is a continuing effort to fight the squalor natural to such crowded conditions, and the battle against the plumbing is losing and constant. Yet to a great extent the dirt and discomfort are embraced as the logical companions of full freedom.
But the squalor does make one wonder. What is there about dirt and disorder that is so appealing, even desirable? What has the Establishment done to drive people to express their repudiation of it by wallowing in a mess they themselves make? If theirs is a form of protest, they seem clearly to be both the initiators and the victims of it. Would some small measure of self-respect (and I’m not talking about haircuts) undermine the revolution?
Certainly not all of the hippie quarters in The Haight-Ashbury are as jammed. I was invited to a smaller place where about 12 were living. This apartment was tidy, and one of the girls, who said that she produced her financial contribution to the household by panhandling, gave me coffee and a bowl of macaroni. When I refused sugar and said I had a pill for the coffee, the group laughed, and one boy called out: "Get the middle-aged hippie!” The girl curled up next to him on the couch said she had never been really happy until she left home. Now, she said, she thought she w as pregnant, and she and the boy exchanged fond looks.
It was all so loving—good friends together, warm shelter, food, the rain against the window—and it almost seemed plausible. But not quite. What about those who weren’t there, the families of the hippies? Were they looking for these young people or had they given them up? What, I wondered, about the girl who was becoming an accomplished panhandler? How long could she happily ply that humiliating trade? And the girl who thought she was pregnant, would she feel in a few months, as she obviously felt now, that her event was blessed? Or would she feel bitter and swindled and angry at herself for having once had the courage of her folly? In that context, the word "love” seems a ludicrous distortion, and at the very least I would wish for these young people that they had not taken this foolish and painful journey to find it.
The rain was coming down too hard for us to go out then, and we just sat around and talked for awhile. One of the boys took his guitar and began to sing, first folk and blues I didn’t know, then, in deference to the guest, he started on more familiar things like “House of the Rising Sun” and even “Summertime.” We all joined in, and in the middle of one song, a boy lying on the floor tugged at my trouser leg. "You get the vibrations?” he asked. "We’re all together, aren’t we, man?” Indeed we were, in that space and in that moment, and I was sad it could not last. Yet it could not for me, for I know of better afternoons, and it cannot last for them either.
#loudon wainwright#life magazine#hippies#counterculture#haight ashbury#generation gap#summer of love#san francisco#1967#1960s#sixties#60s
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Quickly Feel Safer In Your Home With These Tips!
There could be small doubt that maintaining your home and its contents secure is likely among your top priorities. But you may not have the understanding required to be sure the job is done correctly. Continue reading to learn more about making certain that your nearest and dearest and valuables are always protected, even when you are away from your home. Pick a deadbolt lock over a spring-latch lock. Even the spring-latch lock is significantly simpler for thieves that are experienced in"loiding." Loiding refers to the process where a plastic card like a credit card is eased from the latch tongue so as to depress it, that can unlock your door. The deadbolt will stop an attack like this. Deadbolts are vulnerable only when there is tons of space in between your door along with your door frame for intruders to utilize hacksaws or power resources. To avoid being inadvertently locked out of the own home, some folks like to hide a key to their house in various outdoor areas, such as beneath a flower pot, under the welcome mat or inside a fake rock in their landscaping. If you're guilty of the behavior, stop instantly! Numerous home invasions happen because the intruder searched for a hidden key and found it. It will be less costly to call a locksmith than it is to replace your stolen valuables. Really take a list of what individuals may see through your windows. If you're able to clearly see costly technology such as flat screen TVs and expensive desktops, then you are inviting trouble. Instead, conceal that tech and costly furnishings from view. Your residence will be a good deal less appealing to potential burglars. Refrain from using candles in your home unless it is completely required. If you do burn a candle, ensure you blow it out whenever you are finished. It is critical that no burning fire is left unattended because one slip can destroy your house and potential hurt your nearest and dearest. Before leaving for vacation, turn off the ringers on your house. Intruders might be attracted by means of a phone that rings always without anybody picking up. Walk to the road and then turn back to your dwelling. What would you watch through these windows? Can there be anything valuable in opinion? If that's the case, you want to transfer the objects out of sight. They simply give burglars a motive to aim your property. If moving the objects isn't a possibility, invest in shades or curtains to obscure them from view. If folks come to your door unexpectedly, ask who's there before you open the door. Even in the event you live in a neighborhood that doesn't have a high crime rate, it's still a fantastic idea to be mindful. In the event the person on the other side is reluctant about replying, never open the door. Ensuring your home is secure is something in which you get a severe, vested interest. Knowing how to guarantee your residence is secured in any way times requires some specialized knowledge. With some luck, the content above has supplied you with all the type of information for which you've been looking for. home security home security
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Quickly Feel Safer In your house With These Tips!
There could be small doubt that maintaining your house and its contents protected is likely among your top priorities. But you may not have the knowledge necessary to make sure the job is done right. Keep reading if you want to learn more about making sure your loved ones and valuables are always protected, even if you are away from your home. Choose a deadbolt lock over a spring-latch lock. Even the spring-latch lock is far simpler for burglars that are experienced in"loiding." Loiding describes the method by which a plastic card just like a credit card has been slid from the latch tongue so as to depress it, that can unlock your door. The deadbolt will stop an attack in this way. Deadbolts are vulnerable only when there is lots of space in between your door and your doorway framework for intruders to utilize hacksaws or power tools. To prevent being accidentally locked out of the home, some people prefer to hide a secret to their house in various outside areas, like beneath a flower bud, under the welcome mat or inside a fake rock in their landscaping. If you are guilty of this behaviour, stop immediately! Many home invasions occur because the intruder hunted for a hidden secret and discovered it. It will be less expensive to call a locksmith since it would be to replace your stolen valuables. Really take an inventory of what folks may see through your chimney. If you can obviously see expensive technology like flat screen TVs and pricey desktops, then you are inviting trouble. Instead, hide that technician and expensive furnishings from perspective. Your home will be a great deal less attractive to potential thieves. Refrain from using candles in your home unless it's absolutely vital. If you do burn a candle, make sure you blow it out when you're finished. It is critical that no burning fire is left unattended since one slip can ruin your house and potential hurt your nearest and dearest. Prior to leaving for vacation, switch off the ringers in your home. Intruders may be attracted by a cellphone that rings continuously without anybody picking up. Walk to the road and turn back to your property. What will you see through the windows? Is there anything valuable in view? If that's the case, you have to move out the objects of sight. They just give thieves a reason to target your house. If moving the items isn't a potential, invest in shades or drapes to obscure them from view. When folks visit your door unexpectedly, ask who is there before you open the doorway. Even in case you live in a neighborhood that doesn't have a high crime rate, it's still a good idea to be cautious. In the event the person on the opposite side is hesitant about responding, never open the door. Ensuring your house is safe is something where you have a severe, vested interest. Understanding how to guarantee your house is secured at all times requires some technical knowledge. With some luck, the article above has supplied you with the sort of information for which you have been searching. home security home security
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Today’s Movie: The Green Berets
Year of Release: 1968
Stars: John Wayne, David Janssen, Jim Hutton
Directors: Ray Kellogg, John Wayne
This movie is not on my list of essential films.
NOTE: This installment of Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies is being done as part of something called The Leap Year Blog-a-Thon being hosted by Taking Up Room. The concept here is to celebrate Leap Day 2020 with a blog-a-thon on February 29th. To do so, this event features three categories:
1) Movies or TV shows starring celebrities born on February 29th
2) Movies or TV shows that play with time (e.g., Interstellar, Outer Limits, Back To the Future, et cetera…)
3) Wild Card: Any movie or TV show you’ve always wanted to review but never had the chance to.
I’ve never has a chance yet to write about John Wayne’s 1968 film “The Green Berets.” But it also features a face familiar to many Wayne productions, that of character actor Edward Faulkner, who was born on February 29th, 1932 in Louisville, Kentucky.
The Story:
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Made in 1968 and set during the height of the Vietnam War, this John Wayne produced and directed film wastes no time getting to it’s stark anti-communist message. “The Green Berets” begins with a Special Forces briefing about American military involvement in the war in Vietnam. In no time, this briefing escalates into what might as well have been a tête-à-tête between a cynical newspaper reporter George Beckworth (played by David Janssen) and Green Beret Sergeant Muldoon (played by Aldo Ray)…despite the presence of at least two hundred other people.
Muldoon launches into a lecture rivaling the best of Sergeant Joe Friday of “Dragnet” fame, the subject of which being a detailed dissertation of the presence of international communism in Vietnam. This is prompted by Beckworth’s skepticism over what he believes to be nothing more than American intervention in a Vietnamese civil war of no concern to the outside world. Muldoon then almost literally buries Beckworth in evidence; weapons and equipment captured from North Vietnamese (NVA) soldiers and Viet Cong (VC) guerrillas which was all manufactured in the Soviet Union, Communist Czechoslovakia, and Communist China, to name a few. At this point, Green Beret Colonel Mike Kirby (played by John Wayne) asks Beckworth if he has ever been to Southeast Asia, When Beckworth replies that he has not, it’s obvious that Kirby is immediately dismissive of any opinion Beckworth has. Kirby’s response gives Beckwortth a sense of needing to see for himself; he accepts Kirby’s invitation/challenge to go to South Vietnam.
Beckworth doesn’t waste any time getting into the thick of things. He finds Colonel Kirby with two hand-picked special forces detachments; one team is commanded by Captain MacDaniel (played Edward Faulkner) intended to replace a team at a fire-base nicknamed “Dodge City;” the other forming a counter-guerrilla force alongside South Vietnamese and Montagnard fighters. At “Dodge City,” Beckworth first notices the humanitarian aspect of the Special Forces mission; the digging of irrigation ditches, provision of medical care for the locals, giving candy to children, et cetera… Despite this, Beckworth remains unconvinced of America’s need to be in Vietnam.
Another eye-opening moment for Beckworth is his introduction to Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) Captain Nghiem (played by George Takei). Nghiem was a Việt Minh officer from Hanoi during the previous war of liberation from the French colonists, and is now a fanatic anti-communist. He wants to “kill all the stinking Viet Cong” to win this war, and Beckworth can’t believe his claims there is a spy network within “Dodge City” and the ARVN strike force.
Sergeant Muldoon, Colonel Kirby, and Captains MacDaniel and Nghiem
That night, “Dodge City” comes under a VC mortar attack, the precision of which leads to heavy casualties. The next day, Sergeant Muldoon discovers the source of the precision of the previous night’s mortar barrage when he spots an ARVN soldier pacing out distances in the camp. Muldoon flattens him and drags him up in front of Kirby and Nghiem. During their interrogation, a silver Zippo lighter is discovered in the ARVN soldier’s possession. The lighter belonged to a friend of Kirby’s who was a Green Beret medical specialist recently murdered by the VC. Needless to say, things don’t go well for the ARVN soldier after this; it’s pretty obvious he is getting a date with a firing squad although that is never shown.
However, after Beckworth watches Nghiem torture the ARVN soldier/VC spy, he confronts Kirby about it. Beckworth is starting a rant about “that man’s rights” and “due process,” when Kirby interrupts with a stern admonition about “out here, due process is a bullet.” Kirby then backs that up with the story of the cigarette lighter, the man who it belonged to, and how the spy came to be in possession of it.
Beckworth doesn’t know it yet, but this is the moment where his view of the war changes. The confirmation comes a few days later when Beckworth accompanies Kirby and his team on a patrol in the nearby mountains. Before that patrol, the people of a Montagnard village had come to “Dodge City” to get medical attention for the chief’s grand-daughter who had stepped on a Punji stick. While she is being treated by Kirby’s medical specialist, Beckworth befriends the little girl. But when Kirby’s patrol and Beckworth’s arrive at that village, they discover the chief and most of the male villagers have been tortured and executed by the VC for cooperating with the Americans, and the women including the chief’s grand-daughter had been gang-raped and murdered.
Even Beckworth himself realizes his view has changed completely; even he now knows the Viet Cong are ruthless killers who must be stopped. What he doesn’t know is for him, the worst is yet to come. The next night, “Dodge City” comes under a “human wave” attack by thousands of Viet Cong and North Vietnamese troops. The attack is so ferocious that Beckworth is forced to take up a rifle plucked from a dead ARVN sergeant and fight alongside the Green Berets, and assists moving villagers into “Dodge City” to protect them from the NVA and VC.
Eventually, the wire is breached and the North Vietnamese flood into “Dodge City,” forcing the Green Berets and ARVN soldiers to retreat to the inner perimeter. Both sides suffer heavy casualties, but ultimately the VC and the NVA take control of the base. The Green Berets and the ARVN soldiers who survived the attack escape through the wire, and Kirby orders an airstrike by “Puff the Magic Dragon” (a Douglas AC-47 “Spooky” armed with three M61 Vulcan cannons), which obliterates the occupying VC and NVA troops. Once all the VC and NVA in the camp have been killed, Kirby and his team re-occupy it.
Kirby and Beckworth
After the battle, Kirby and Beckworth have a moment in which the reporter tells the colonel that he’s going to write a story fully supporting the United States involvement in the war knowing he’s going to be fired for doing so, then thanks Kirby for giving him the experience.
Now for purposes of full disclosure…
SPC4 Petersen (later Sergeant)
For my money, this is where this movie should end. After this point, there’s a couple of side-plots that carry the rest of this movie, and they feel clumsy and unnecessary. The kidnapping of the NVA general adds nothing to the plot of the movie other than to shoe-horn in some action sequences. Even more over- the- top is the relationship between Sergeant Petersen (played by Jim Hutton) and the Vietnamese orphan known as “Ham Chuck” (played by Craig Jue). Anybody with even the most passing knowledge of the Vietnam War knows this movie is not going to have a happy ending.
“Ham Chuck”
Understand that I’m saying this as both a massive John Wayne fan and as somebody who served in the U.S. Marines, so I’ve seen first-hand what totalitarian regimes do to people, so selling me an anti-communist message is about as hard as telling me pizza is delicious.
“Ham Chuck” only exists to sell me the idea that war is full of innocent victims; often times they are children. Not only was that already handled by the Montagnard chief’s grand-daughter, but the comic relief provided by “Ham Chuck” feels completely out-of-place and totally telegraphs the punch Wayne is trying to throw with his message.
There’s two reasons why I point that out. First of all, when it was released “The Green Berets” was savaged by critics largely for it’s not-so-subtle political overtones. Frankly, I’ve always thought that was the intellectually lazy way to approach this movie given the structural flaws I’ve just discussed. Secondly, that approach also completely ignores the fact it took huge guts to make and release this movie knowing full well how polarizing it would be. It took a figure as large as John Wayne to do it, and to able to withstand the slings and arrows because he didn’t have to care what the traditional “Hollywood” establishment thought of it. Like it or not, you have to respect somebody who believes in something so strongly he takes action knowing full well he’s going to take heavy fire.
To me, that hints at the real value of this film. By no means is “The Green Berets” Wayne’s best movie, but it is one of his most important. Fifty years after the fact, for a multitude of reasons, America still has a crisis of conscience over the Vietnam War, and while “The Green Berets” is clumsy and terribly dated, the issues it tackles are as current as they could be. If you doubt that, think about how easy it would be to re-make that movie today by simply replacing Vietnam with Afghanistan.
From there, feel free to draw your own conclusions. That’s what freedom is all about, unless you live under a totalitarian regime which does not tolerate that.
The Hidden Sports Analogy:
Regardless of your political stripe, one thing we can all agree on from “The Green Berets” is it is a terrific example of a Special Forces detachment being a “team within a team.” Not only are they a select group within a larger force, their expertise and cross-training makes them very effective even in small numbers. Despite that, they still must work together, and it takes even more time and training for them to function as one cohesive unit.
This description also could be used to describe the offensive line for a football team. Those five “big eaters” up front are the heart and soul of any winning football team; if you doubt that, tell me a Super Bowl winning team that didn’t have a great line. I’ll wait…cue “Jeopardy!” music here…
This isn’t just reserved for the winners. The Buffalo Bills of the early 1990s were one of the greatest teams in the history of the National Football League, having played in four consecutive Super Bowls. But most fans know the Buffalo Bills as the team that lost four consecutive Super Bowls.
It just came down to some bad luck at the absolutely worst time for the Buffalo Bills. For the two losses to the Dallas Cowboys, it was just a matter of running into the one team in the NFL that was better than they were. For the one loss to the Washington Redskins, they ran into Mark Rypien for the 49 minutes he was a great quarterback. But for the Bills, the first loss had to be the one that hurt the most.
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The 1990 Buffalo Bills were the best team in football, and as such they had the best offensive line in the game. Everybody remembers the missed Scott Norwood field which cost them the game, but it needs to be noted how well the Bills’ offensive line played in that final drive to set up that field goal opportunity. The big five up front opened holes that running back Thruman Thomas could have driven a school bus through, and quarterback Jim Kelly had enough time in the pocket to cook an entire Thanksgiving dinner.
But like how the Green Berets won many battles in a war in Vietnam which was ultimately lost, the Buffalo Bills’ failure to capture the Lombardi Trophy was no reflection on the efforts of left tackle Will Wolford, left guard Jim Ritcher, center Kent Hull, right guard John Davis, and right tackle Howard “House” Ballard.
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Together, those five men led the legendary Buffalo Bills “K-Gun” offense to the top of the NFL, and provided the foundation upon which quarterback Jim Kelly, running back Thurman Thomas, wide receiver Andre Reed, and head coach Marv Levy built their Hall of Fame careers.
But on that Super Sunday in 1991, the Buffalo Bills offensive line played exceptionally well, but still came up on the losing, side, just like the Green Berets did so that General William Westmoreland could miss the field goal in Vietnam.
The Moral of The Story:
Be it a green beret or a shiny football helmet…never underestimate the value of brute force.
P.S. In case you were wondering, there is a reason why I might be partial to the big guys wearing the big numbers… And yes, that picture was taken at the dawn of color photography.
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Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies – Volume 70: “The Green Berets” Today's Movie: The Green Berets Year of Release: 1968 Stars: John Wayne, David Janssen, Jim Hutton…
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