#we need to start hunting the rich and famous for sport maybe

[johndonneswife]

Ms. Venus pleasssse share your impeccable taste in the form of pinterest boards with the class, thank you. Also I miss your presence on Tumblr and I selfishly wish you had plans to come back to the fandom side of things but I’m wishing you the best from afar!!

i would totally share my beautiful boards with u if not for the fact that i had a full blown meltdown on pinterest abt yuri on ice and i have soooo many freaking yoi pins lmao and iiiit’s a lil mortifying actually. but i promise my wedding & fashion moodboards are 🤌🏻

[back-and-totheleft]

‘There’s still a presence out there reminding people not to speak about JFK’s killing’

Oliver Stone is not a fan of “cancel culture”. “Of course I despise it,” the Oscar winning filmmaker says, as if utterly amazed that anyone needs to ask him such a dumb question. “I am sure I’ve been cancelled by some people for all the comments I’ve made…. it’s like a witch hunt. It’s terrible. American censorship in general, because it is a declining, defensive, empire, it (America) has become very sensitive to any criticism. What is going on in the world with YouTube and social media,” he rants. “Twitter is the worst. They’ve banned the ex-President of the United States. It’s shocking!” he says, referring to Donald Trump’s removal from the micro-blogging platform.

It’s a Saturday lunchtime in the restaurant of the Marriott Hotel on the Croisette in Cannes. The American director is in town for the festival premiere this week of his new feature documentary JFK Revisited: Through the Looking Glass, in which he yet again pores over President John F Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963.

“I am a pin cushion for American-Russian peace relations… I had four f***ing vaccines: two Sputniks and two Pfizers,” Stone gestures at his arm. The rival super-powers may remain deeply suspicious of one another, but Stone is loading himself up with potions from both sides of the old Iron Curtain.

He has recently been travelling in Russia (hence the Sputnik jabs) where he has been making a new documentary about how nuclear power can save humanity. He also recently completed a film about Kazakhstan’s former president Nursultan Nazarbayev which – like his interviews with Vladimir Putin – has been roundly ridiculed for its deferential, softly-softly approach toward a figure widely regarded as a ruthless despot.

Dressed in a blue polo shirt, riffing away about the English football team one moment and his favourite movies the next, laughing constantly, the 74-year-old Oscar-winning director of Platoon, Wall Street, Natural Born Killers et al is a far cheerier presence than his reputation as a purveyor of dark conspiracy thrillers might suggest. He is also very outspoken. For all his belligerence, though, Stone isn’t as thick-skinned as you might imagine. I wonder if he was hurt by the scorn that came his way when his feature film JFK was released in 1991.

“I was more of a younger man. It was painful to me,” the director sighs as he remembers being attacked by such admired figures as newscaster Walter Cronkite and Hollywood power broker Jack Valenti for listening to the “hallucinatory bleatings” of former New Orleans DA Jim Garrison when JFK came out. “It was quite shocking actually because I thought the murder was behind us. I did think there was a feeling that 30 years later, we can look at this thing again without getting excited. But I was way wrong.”

Garrison, of course, was the real-life figure portrayed by Kevin Costner in the film; he was the original proponent of the theory that the CIA were involved in the killing of the US president, after his 1966 investigation. Garrison wrote the book On the Trail of the Assassins, on which the movie was partly based.

Even the director’s fiercest detractors will find it hard to dismiss the evidence he has assembled about the JFK assassination in the new documentary. Once I’d seen it and heard him hold forth, I came away thinking that only flat-earthers can possibly still believe that Lee Harvey Oswald shot President Kennedy all on his own. It’s that convincing.

Stone blitzes you with facts and figures about the Kennedy killing and its aftermath. At times, he himself seems to be suffering from information overload. “I am sorry. There are so many people,” he apologises for not immediately remembering the name of Kennedy’s personal physician, George Burkley, who was present both at Parkland Hospital, where Kennedy was first taken, and then at Bethesda, where the autopsy took place. Burkley was strangely reticent when giving evidence to the Warren Commission.

“I think there’s still a presence out there which reminds people not to speak. I’ve heard that in, of all places, Russia,” Stone says. He was startled to discover that the Russians knew all about his new documentary long before it was discussed in the mainstream press. “They said, ‘We heard about it.’ I said, ‘How?’ They said, ‘We have our contacts in the American intelligence business. They are not very happy about it.’”

Stone believes that no US president since Kennedy died has been “able to go up against this militarised sector of our economy”. Even Trump “backed down at the last second” and declined to release all the relevant documents relating to the assassination. “He announced, ‘I’m going to free it up, blah blah blah, big talk, and then a few hours before, he caved to CIA National Security again.”

The veteran filmmaker expresses his frustrations at historians like Robert Caro, author of a huge (and hugely respected) multi-volume biography of President Lyndon Johnson, for ignoring the evidence that has been turned up about the assassination.

“I can’t say [LBJ] was involved in the assassination,” explains Stone, “but it certainly suited him that Kennedy was not there anymore and he covered up by appointing the Warren Commission and doing all the things he did.”

Stone tried to cast Marlon Brando in JFK in the role as the deep throat source Mr X, eventually played by Donald Sutherland.

“I realise now I am grateful that he turned it down because he knew better than I that he would make 20 minutes out of that 14-minute monologue and it wouldn’t have worked.”

Nevertheless, he filled the film with famous faces. He thought that having familiar actors would make it easier for audiences to engage with what was an immensely complicated story.

Getting Stone to stop talking about JFK is like trying to pull a bone from a mastiff’s jaws. To change the subject slightly, I ask if he is still in touch with WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. He is and is utterly horrified at how Assange is being treated, especially given that Siggi the Hacker, a key witness in the extradition case against Assange, admitted recently that he lied. Stone praises Assange’s partner Stella Morris as “the best wife you could ever have. She really is smart, she’s a lawyer … he has two children. He can’t even touch them or see them. It’s barbaric. It indicates America is declining faster than we know. It is just cutting off dissent.”

The mood lightens when I invite Stone to discuss some of his favourite films. He recently tweeted a list of these, which included Darling starring Julie Christie, Joseph Losey’s Eva starring Stanley Baker and Jeanne Moreau, and Houseboat, a frothy comedy starring Cary Grant and Sophia Loren. “I love films, always have. People don’t know that side of me. I could go on forever.”

Between his darker and more contentious efforts, Stone has made a few genre films himself, for example the underrated thriller U-Turn starring Sean Penn and Jennifer Lopez. He notes, though, that even when he tried a sports movie, he ended up right back in the firing line. The NFL was furious about his 1999 American Football film, Any Given Sunday. “They (the NFL) are arrogant, very rich people who close down any dissent, so I had to change uniforms and names… but they got the point.”

Last year, Stone published the first volume of his autobiography, Chasing the Light, which took him from childhood up to his Oscar triumph with Platoon. It was well received but it didn’t make nearly a big enough splash for his liking. “There was a curtain of silence about that. Maybe it is Covid… it was not reviewed by many people,” he says. “I wish the timing had been better. The publisher was terrible. They didn’t really promote anything. So now I have to start over again if I am going to do a second book, which I would love to do. But I have to find the right publisher.”

The book contains a barbed account of Stone’s experiences as a young screenwriter working in London for British director Alan Parker and producer David Puttnam on Midnight Express. “I wrote about it in the book, so you got my point of view. They were not very friendly people. I gave my criticism of Parker that he had a chip on his shoulder. He was from a poor side of the English. There is this phenomenon you see in England of hating the upper classes until they approve of you.”

No, they didn’t stay in touch. “And Puttnam is a Lord, right? He reminds me of Tony Blair. He is such a weasel.” For once, Stone feels he has overstepped the mark. He doesn’t want to call Puttnam a weasel after all. “Put it this way, Tony Blair is a weasel. I wouldn’t trust Tony Blair. Puttnam is a supporter of Blair. Let’s leave it at that.”

On matters English, he isn’t that keen on soccer either. He watched the semi-final between England and Denmark but had no intention of tuning into the final.

“Soccer is a different kind of game. It’s a different aesthetic. It is constant movement. The United States game allows you to re-group after every play and go into a huddle and so it becomes about strategy. I still enjoy it although people think I am brutal.”

Ask him why he so relishes American Football and he replies that he “grew up with violence in America … we were banging – cowboys and Indians, a lot of killing and that stuff. How do you get away from that? We weren’t playing with dolls.”

Stone’s feelings about the US are deeply ambivalent. He is old enough to remember a time in the late 1940s and early 1950s when “everything in America was golden” and part of him still seems to love the country but his mother was French and he talks about the US as a nation now in near terminal decline.

Perhaps surprisingly, his real political hero isn’t JFK. It’s the former President of France, Charles de Gaulle. “He said no to NATO and he said no to America. He understood the dangers of being a satellite country to America. You have no power in Europe. Don’t kid yourself. The EU is just an artificial body that was amazingly stupid in cutting off Russia and cutting off China too now.”

He doesn’t much like Boris Johnson either. “Boris, listen. He’d simply throw you in jail in a second.” He rails against the English for holding Assange in Belmarsh prison.

When he is not on a crusade or unravelling a conspiracy, Stone relaxes through Buddhist meditation. “Moderation in all things,” the man who came up with the phrase “greed is right, greed works” says with no evident sense of irony. He enjoys hanging out with his friends. “I have a nice life. I’m lucky,” he says before quickly adding, “I wish I had been more honoured and respected in my lifetime, but it seems that I took a course that is in conflict with the American Empire.”

Stone’s films have had relatively few strong female characters. Ask if he welcomes the #MeToo movement and the challenging of old gender norms and he gives a typically contrary answer. “It cuts both ways, though. There are reasons for patriarchy through the centuries,” he says. “Tribes tend to have a strong leader. You need strong leaders, but I do see the feminine impulse as being important, especially when situations become too militant. The feminine impulse, I’m talking about the maternal impulse not the Hillary Clinton/Margaret Thatcher version of feminism. They’re men. They’re not women,” he says. “I don’t want women in politics who want to be men. If a woman is a woman, she should be a woman and bring her maternalism. It’s a leavening influence.”

The director deplores the rush to judge historical figures about past misdeeds from a contemporary point of view. “I am conservative in that way… don’t expect to rejudge the entire society based on your new values.”

He met with Harvey Weinstein in Cannes a few years ago to discuss a potential Guantanamo Bay TV series. “At that point, maybe he knew he was on the ropes; he was delightfully charming and humble.” The project was scuppered by the scandal that that engulfed the former Miramax boss, who is now behind bars as a convicted sex offender. Stone’s gripes with Weinstein are less to do with his sexual offences than with the way that he attacked films like Born on the Fourth of July and Saving Private Ryan to boost his own movies.

“The press loved him [Weinstein]. Don’t forget, they loved him in the 1990s,” he says, remembering the disingenuous way in which Weinstein portrayed himself as the underdog taking on the big, bad Hollywood system.

“I think he robbed Cruise of the Oscar, frankly,” Stone huffs at the intensive Weinstein lobbying which saw Daniel Day-Lewis win the Academy Award for Best for My Left Foot, denying Tom Cruise for Born on the Fourth of July in the process.

Stone acknowledges his status in Hollywood has diminished. “All that’s gone. The people have changed,” he says of the days when the studios doted on him and his films were regularly awards contenders. Now, he’ll often finance his work out of Europe. He is developing a new feature film (he won’t say what it is). “Never say die, never say it’s over,” he says of his career.

Stone is based in Los Angeles and also has “a place in New York”. During the pandemic, he still managed to travel to Russia to make his nuclear power/clean energy documentary. “I got my shots over there because the EU is so f***ing stupid,” he says of the of the Europeans’ refusal to recognise the Sputnik vaccine. “It’s ridiculous, part of the political madness of this time.”

Now, he is putting all his energy into his new documentary about nuclear power. He waves away the idea that the Chernobyl and Fukushima disasters show what can go wrong – they were accidents.

“Accidents you learn from. If there were not a few crashes, how would you fly?” he says. It’s a line that somehow seems to express his entire philosophy of life.

-Geoffrey Macnab interviews Oliver Stone, The Independent, Jul 15 2021 [x]

[elisajdb]

Son Family Week: Goten Day

Dreams and Fantasies @sonfamilyweek

 Day: Goten

 Party

  “Are you sure about this?”

 “It’s the perfect plan and the perfect time to do this.”

 Goten wasn’t completely convinced. “Wouldn’t a party make more sense at your house? It’s huge!”

 “Yeah,” Trunks didn’t deny that. His home would be better, but it wasn’t possible. “But my grandparents, my parents and lots of animals and robots are there. There’s always someone home!” Trunks saw doubt on Goten’s face. He didn’t need his friend to back out of this. Trunks put too much planning in for this to not work.

 “Come on, Goten. It’s the perfect time. Gohan has that conference to go to. This is the first time he’s taking Videl and Pan instead of leaving Pan with your parents. That’s three days. All we need to do is get your parents out of the house for one night.” He pulled out the answer from his pocket and waved it at Goten. “And your parents deserve this. When do they ever go out? Do you really want to keep this from them?”

 Goten looked at the white envelope waving before him. Trunks told him it was a trip to an exclusive island resort. It had nightly parties, fireworks and most importantly, food. Lots and lots of food and it was all free.

 “Mom, gets this stuff all the time. These places always give this to rich or famous people for free.”

 “Why free?” Goten asked. “They can afford it.”

 Trunks shook his head chuckling at Goten’s naivete. He had no clue how the real world worked. “Because if they are seen there or talk about it, it brings more people to the resort. You know how rich and famous obsessed this world is. Mr. Satan can promote a sports drink that’s more junk than healthy but millions would buy because of him.”

 That was true. Even Goten didn’t understand why people still believed Mr. Satan beat Cell.

 “All we have to do is convince your Mom. Your Dad will go along with anything your Mom wants to do.”

 That was true, but it didn’t mean Trunks’ plan will work. “Even so, Mom won’t let me be in the house by myself. She’ll send me to Grandpa for the night.”

 “Don’t worry,” Trunks smirked. He thought of that, too. “Leave that to me.”

 ****

 “Are you looking forward to the conference, Gohan?”

 “It’s no different from the other ones,” Gohan commented as he finished his lunch. He meant to talk to his parents about his trip but couldn’t say no when his mother insist he stay for lunch. “The good thing is Pan gets to come with Videl and me. Videl’s already planning places we can all go when my conferences end for each day.”

 “Well, it’s sad Goku and I won’t watch Pan this time but I’m glad Pan gets to go with you.”

 “Food!” Goten cheered as he and Trunks came downstairs.

 “Do you want to stay for lunch, Trunks?” ChiChi asked the young man.

 “No. I gotta get home. Before I go, I have to give you this.” Trunks handed ChiChi an envelope. “Mom wants you to have this.”

 ChiChi opened the envelope. She read the contents. “Wow!”

 Goku looked up from his food. “What is it?”

 “It’s a free trip to those fancy island resorts Bulma talks about. All you can eat, lots of shopping and games. Oooo,” ChiChi pulled out a card. “According to this, there’s over 100,000 zeni on it. She’s giving me spending money? But we have money now.”

 The money card was something Trunks added. Mr. Satan gave the Son Family enough money to live on. Trunks thought it was extra incentive if he gave them that card. “That’s a gift from the escort. Sometimes they give it to Mom to ensure she comes. She rather spend someone else’s money instead of her own.”

 ChiChi frowned as she read more information. “We can only use this on the 17th and it’s only for two.”

 “It’s for you and Goku,” Trunks explained.

 ChiChi placed the contents back in the envelope and handed it back to Trunks. “We can’t use it.”

 “Why not? My Mom wanted you to have it.”

 “Gohan will be gone for the conference on the 16th-18th. This resort is a one-day pass on the 17th.” ChiChi growled irritated. “Why did Bulma give this to you when it’s going to expire in two days? If we had more time, perhaps we could’ve changed the date.”

 Trunks saw ChiChi reaching for her cell phone. If she calls his Mom, his plan will blow up in his face. “It’s my fault!” Trunks blurted. “Mom gave this to me to give you a month ago but I forgot.” Not true. Trunks has been planning this months and always intercepted mail for his mother looking for free things like this. “Please,” he begged ChiChi. “Don’t tell her. She’ll get mad at me.”

 ChiChi pulled back from her phone. “I won’t but Goku and I can’t use this unless we send Goten to spend the night with Grandpa and he’s getting older. It’ll be more like Goten watching him.”

 “Why can’t I stay home by myself?” asked Goten. “I’m sixteen. I’m old enough to stay home alone for a night.”

 “Goten,” ChiChi said kindly, “you’re sixteen but you’re not ready.”

 “Why not?” Goten’s voice raised at the rejection. “I’m not a baby. I can be home by myself for one night. Gohan did it.”

 “No one’s calling you a baby, Goten and it’s not fair to compare yourself to Gohan. Things were different then. You never had to be by yourself.”

 “I know but I feel like you don’t trust me or you think I’m a baby. You and Dad have this great trip from Bulma and you won’t go because you think you have to take care of me.”

 “Oh, Goten,” ChiChi put a hand on her chest. Was her decision so hurtful to Goten that he thought she didn’t trust him? “It’s not like that all. I never thought to make you think---”

 “I know I never went through all the things Gohan did. Some of the stuff you still won’t tell me about but I can do this,” Goten insisted. “I can stay at home for one day. I can hunt fish. I know how to handle those salesmen calls and not answer the door to anyone.”

 “All right,” ChiChi gave in. Maybe she was being too judgmental. “You’re right. You’re sixteen. You should do this. Your brother was playing superhero at your age. If I let him do that, I should be able to let you stay alone for one day.” ChiChi ruffled Goten’s shaggy hair. “Sometimes I see you as my sweet little baby but you’re growing up into a young man. I have to start letting you go.” ChiChi hugged Goten. “Can you forgive me for wanting to keep you as my baby a little longer?”

 Goten wrapped his arms around ChiChi. Trunks grinned at him. It worked! “Sure, Mom.” Goten assured her but felt a lot of guilt for what he just did.

 ****

 Gohan and his family left for his conference and Goku and ChiChi left for their trip as scheduled. Goten received calls from ChiChi and his Grandpa checking on him but Goten assured them everything was under control.

 For a while, it was. Trunks had everything planned out and brought everything they needed. He brought a capsule jacuzzi, sound systems that will have music blaring for miles, games set up outside and lots of food. Trunks thought twenty of his friends from school will be enough but he shut down Goten’s idea of inviting his friends. Most of Goten’s friends came from Gyumao’s village and their parents knew Goku and ChiChi. It was that issue that prevented Trunks from letting Goten invite them.

 “But they’re my friends,” Goten argued.

 “Yeah, and their parents know yours and your Grandpa. It’s a good chance one will let it slip about the party and your family will find out. No,” Trunks shook his head adamant. “Only my friends can come.”

 “But it’s my house,” Goten argued again. “And I don’t know your friends.”

 “So, this can work, we need to invite people who have no ties to your family,” Trunks explained again. “I’ll introduce you to them. Trust me. They’re cool and the girls I have coming are hot and experience.”

 Some of Trunks’ friends were cool and the girls he brought were beautiful. It was fun being around them that Goten thought Trunks was right about not inviting his friends. He was still having fun but after an hour, things went to great to spiraling out of control. More people showed up. Trunks’ friends invited friends of their own and brought amenities to liven up the party more: alcohol and drugs . What started as a group of twenty expanded to a group of nearly one hundred and they were all partying in or outside Goten’s home.

 “I’m in so much trouble,” Goten murmured. Outside boys and girls were soaking or making out in the  jacuzzi. Naked girls were being chased by half naked boys. There were groups of people drinking excessively. One drunken teen vomited in ChiChi’s garden.

 And this was outside!

 Inside was worse. The house was filled with teens dancing, eating and making out. There were a few broken glasses and dishes. Two end tables were broken because teens danced on it. The coffee table was broken because two muscle bound jocks broke it while celebrating an arm-wrestling victory. Upstairs was off limits but of course being teens, they didn’t listen. They broke through the locked doors for their own entertainment.

 Goten was horrified to see groups of people in his parent’s bedroom have a blow job party. He told these strangers to stay downstairs but instead of listening, they broke in his parents’ bedroom and did things only his parents should do in here. Add on to the trust his mother had in him and knowing he broke and the party not turning out how he wanted, it angered Goten to the point he flared into Super Saiyan as he screamed.

 “GET OUT!!!”

 Goten was angry. He was angry at these people for disrespecting him in his home. He was angry he couldn’t invite his friends and he was angry at his best friend Trunk using him.

 Girls sucking on their boyfriends pulled away stunned and frightened at the golden hair teen screaming. Boys pulled up their pants and girls scrambled to their feet as they rushed out to escape the gold menace.

Somewhere in the sea of people was Trunks. Goten promised to find him and tell his friend the party was over. Shockingly, Goten felt Trunks’ Ki in his bedroom. He pushed open the door and found Trunks kissing a girl besides his bed.

 “Trunks, what are you doing in here?! You have a girl in my room before I got a girl in my room!”

 Trunks broke away from the girl startled. “Goten! What the hell are you doing? Why did you turn into a Super Saiyan?”

 “WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?!”

 “What’s a Super Saiyan?”

 Trunks and Goten looked at the confused pink haired girl that had her tongue down Trunks’ throat moments ago. “Give us a minute.” The girl fixed her clothes, gave Trunks a kiss and flipped off Goten as she brushed past him. “I know it’s wrong to bring her in here but I’m your friend, so I thought it was cool.” Goten’s Ki spiked higher at the explanation. “Goten, could you calm down? I know there’s a lot of people and maybe it’s getting out of hand but we can fix this.”

 The music that blared in and outside of the house since the party started. immediately stopped. It was followed by an angry voice that rocked Goten and Trunks to their core.

 “OUT!! EVERYONE OUT!!! RIGHT NOW!!!”

 “Oh, shit,” Trunks cursed.

 Trunks and Goten could hear the sounds of multiple footsteps leaving his home and the sounds of capsules popping. From his window, Goten and Trunks saw many airships leaving at a frantic pace.

 “GOTEN!!!!”

 “Oh, shit,” Trunks cursed again.

 Goten could feel sick to his stomach at that voice. It was over for him. He will die tonight. Why couldn’t evil Majin Boo come back or some other bad person willing to destroy the planet?

“Don’t make me come up there and get you, Goten!! Get….down…. here… NOW!!!”

 Trunks wiped his forehead. He wasn’t called. He was spared.

 “I know you’re up there, Trunks!! Get down here, too, and don’t you even think of escaping!”

 “Dammit,” Trunks cursed again.

 Goten and Trunks left the room. They slowly walked downstairs ready to die. With the house empty of people, it looked even worse. The sofa had stains of food, alcohol and cigarette marks. Trash littered the floor. There was a stench of smoke and weed in the room. The kitchen was a mess as it was stained with food. In the center stood Gohan, dressed casually, without his glasses, arms crossed and furious!

 Goten witnessed anger from his brother a few times but he had never seen him this angry before. “Big brother, what are you doing here? How did you know?”

 Gohan glared at Trunks. He knew he was the mastermind behind this. “You are definitely Bulma’s kid, Trunks. Your con job on Mom was so bad even Dad noticed.”

 Goku? Trunks couldn’t believe that. “That’s impossible! Your Dad’s—"

 “A lot smarter than you think and he’s known your Mom a lot longer than you. He’s seen this con job before and maybe if Goten didn’t display that temper tantrum he’s old enough to be in the house by himself, Mom would’ve noticed that, too.”

 “If you knew about this, why didn’t you stop us?” Trunks asked. Instead of being scared, he was upset. “Did you set us up?”

 Gohan wanted to laugh. Was Trunks trying to turn this on him? “I understand the need to have parties. I went to a few in college but I didn’t say anything because I thought you two would have it under control. My mistake in trusting you.”

 Goten lowered his head ashamed. He never thought he would lose his brother’s trust.

 Trunks admired Gohan but he didn’t like this scolding from him. “So, what are you gonna do?” he challenged, “Snitch on us?”

 Gohan shook his head. Trunks didn’t behave like the Trunks he knew as a child. It was unfortunate. “I won’t. Mom deserves this break and I won’t have her crush to think she can’t trust her child. We’re gonna fix this.”

 Gohan stepped away from them. He opened a drawer and pulled out ChiChi’s notepad and pen she used when making the grocery list. Goten and Trunks looked curious as Gohan wrote down what was broken in the kitchen. He went to the living room and made list there. Then he traveled to every room in the house writing more things down.

 When he returned, Gohan had a list of two pages. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a capsule. He gave the list to Goten and the capsule to Trunks.

 Trunks read the capsule model number. “This is one of our large airship capsules.”

 “What do you want us to do?” Goten asked as he read the list. He was ready to do anything to earn his brother’s trust again. “You want us to go shopping for all this?  What if they don’t have it?”

 “There’s a storage warehouse in Satan City at 510 Western Ave. It has everything we need. There are duplicates of everything in our house. Every utensil, glass, dinnerplates. Even furniture. It’s all bought and paid for. Don’t worry about the sofa and futons. I broke that in so it doesn’t have a new furniture feel to it. Mom won’t know it’s been replaced. Just get it and get back here as soon as possible.”

 “Hold on.” There’s a story behind this and Trunks wanted to know. “Why do you have duplicates of everything in a warehouse?”

 “Dad still breaks stuff around the house. With all that money Mr. Satan gave us, Dad thought we should get duplicates of everything so Mom would stop getting angry every time he broke something.”

 Goten did remember his Mom being a little frustrated at his Dad for breaking things but that hasn’t happened for….. “You mean this has been---”

 “Going on for years,” Gohan finished. “Yes. You two need to get going. I’m gonna start cleaning up what I can.”

 “Okay but Mom and Dad don’t need a new bed.” Goten pointed to the list. “It’s not broken.”

 “I don’t know all of what went on in Mom and Dad’s room and my nose isn’t as strong as Dad’s but I know something went on in there that shouldn’t have. Dad’s nose will pick it up. You’re getting a new bed and futon.”

 Goten agreed with his brother. He saw what went on and he will take that to his grave. “Dad suspects something but he doesn’t know about the party right, Gohan? You don’t have to tell him.”

 Gohan wished that were true. “I don’t want to but I have to. Mom will want to leave first thing in the morning and I don’t think we’ll be finished covering this mess by then. Dad needs to know so he can stall Mom.”

 Goten accepted that. As long as Mom didn’t know.

 Gohan pointed to the door. “Get going. Mom and Dad will be back tomorrow. We don’t have a lot of time and I have to get back, too. Videl doesn’t know about this.” Gohan squeezed the bridge of his nose as he thought of how to resolve this. “When you two come back, you need to get rid of everything broken and clean this house top to bottom. Make sure the outside is taken care of, too. I’m not needed at tomorrow’s conference but I’ll let Videl think I’m going and come back here and make sure everything is in correct order.”

 “I want to help,” Trunks started, “but I can’t. I have curfew in three hours. I broke it twice and Mom will ground me for the next month if I’m late again.”

 “Then you better get as much done as you can before curfew,” Gohan warned as he approached Trunks. No way will this instigator get out of the mess he help create. “Tomorrow, you’re gonna come back here and help me and Goten clean this mess because if my Mom finds out, after my Mom and your Mom deals with you, you’re gonna have to deal with me. Understand?”

 Trunks swallowed. When Gohan got mad, really mad, he was scary.

 ****

 Goten and Trunks went to the warehouse and brought back everything on Gohan’s list. Trunks went home to meet curfew. This left Goten to spend the rest of the night tossing out the broken furniture and cleaning the house from top to bottom. Trunks returned early the next morning to help. Gohan arrived an hour after Trunks. He inspected in and outside the house for anything Goten (mostly) and Trunks missed in before giving his approval and leaving.  

 Trunks and Goten were in the kitchen eating when Goku and ChiChi teleported two hours later. Both were carrying bags of items from the resort. Goten could see stuffed toys for Pan in one bag. There was another bag filled with clothes and games that looked to be for him.

 “Look at that, ChiChi. The house is in one piece.” Goku squeezed ChiChi lightly. “And you were worried.”

 “I gladly admit to being wrong.” ChiChi looked around her kitchen inspecting everything with a sharp eye. She opened and closed the refrigerator, eyed Goten suspicious before stepping in the living where a lot of damage was done. ChiChi walked around before staring at the sofa, the end tables and coffee table that were replaced. Goten and Trunks exchanged nervous glances. Did they miss a spot? Did ChiChi notice something.

 “Goten!”

 Goten jumped! Did his mother know the furniture were replaced? Gohan inspected everything! He said everything was good.

 ChiChi ran to Goten and threw her arms around him. “Oh, sweetheart. You cleaned the house and shopped for food.”

 Goten laughed nervously. She didn’t notice. He wasn’t going to die today. “I wanted to surprise you. I felt bad about my temper tantrum and---”

 “Ohh!” ChiChi kissed his cheek. “Oh, you’re such a sweet child.”

 “He’s a good kid,” Goku ruffled Goten’s hair. “With a lot of energy. Gohan’s getting so much busier now with his work and family he can’t spar with me as much anymore.” He lightly jabbed Goten’s face. “You’re getting older and slacking off a bit. I think we need to increase our training.” Goku grinned at Goten. “First thing in the morning and after your school lessons are done, we’re gonna train and we’re going to train harder than before.” He jabbed Goten’s face again. “And don’t think I will go easy on you because you’re my son. I know you don’t want that.”

 More training and even harder? They already train four days out of the week. Goten loved it when he was kid but getting older and discovering girls, Goten wasn’t interested in fighting like he used to be. He looked at his mother to bail him out. “Mom?”

 “Oh, I know you can handle it, Goten. You don’t have to ask for my permission. You’ve balanced school and training with your father and you haven’t fallen behind.” ChiChi grabbed a couple bags. “I’m gonna unpack and wrap these gifts for Pan. I can’t wait to show these to her.”

 This left Goku, Goten and Trunks in the room. Trunks looked at father and son. Goten looked frightened at his Dad’s scary smile. He didn’t know what will happen but Trunks knew he should leave. This was Goten’s problem. Not his. “Well, I’m gonna go home. Nice to see you again, Goku.”

 “Bye, Trunks,” Goku kept his eyes on Goten. “Say hey to Vegeta. I haven’t seen him in while but I talked to him this morning. He’s waiting for you.”

 “Shit,” Trunks banged his head against the door. He was a dead man. If Goten’s father was going to increase their training, he could only imagine what his Dad will do to him.

 And then there were two. Goten kept his head bowed. He knew his father wasn’t the yelling type but he felt something was coming.

 “Shall we go?” Goku asked. “Might as well get started.”

 Goten saw his father walking towards the door. Was this it? Was his Dad not going to acknowledge what he did? He knew Mom handles the punishment but this time with Mom not knowing, Goten expected something from his Dad. “Dad, aren’t you mad?”

 “The house is still here and your Mom’s happy. So, no.” He opened the door. “Let’s go.”

 Goten followed his Dad outside. He didn’t understand. The house was a wreck because of his party. He should be punished. “Didn’t Gohan tell you what happened?”

 “He did.”

 And he still wasn’t mad?

 “Listen, Goten. You know I’m not the yelling parent. I trust my kids to do the right thing and when they do wrong, I trust them to fix it. Gohan told me how ashamed you were last night. When he came by this morning, everything was spotless. The house was cleaner than it was when we left.” He put an arm around Goten. “You really felt bad for that party and what happened to the house.”

 “Yeah,” Goten nodded. “I didn’t want to do it but Trunks convinced me and….” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Trunks is my best friend but I shouldn’t listen to him all the time.”

 “That’s true,” Goku agreed. It was something he and ChiChi knew for a while. Goku was glad Goten was starting to see that.

 “I’m really sorry, Dad.” Goten never wanted last night to happen again. “I let you and Mom down.”

 “Nah. You didn’t let us down. You proved to us we did pretty good as parents. You saw you made a mistake and tried to correct it. You didn’t try to get away with it. So, I’m happy.” He winked at Goten. “It’ll be our little secret from Mom.”

 Goten hugged his father. “Thanks, Dad.” His mother’s love and father’s approval meant a lot to Goten. He had that, risked losing it last night and vowed to never let that happen again.  

[prize-winning-conker]

Speaking of that daft column, it’s now more an essay, but ehh. He’s given me free reign so may as well make it count and make sure I upset someone. Think it’s done so have it early...

I was eight years old and in hospital, the cliché picture with a band aid on forehead and arm in splint. Mom hadn’t sat the entire time she’d been at my bedside - all three hours to that point. Lovingly fretting, you ask? Nope. Glaring down at me. I knew she was, her arms were folded and her weight shifted from one foot to the other as her exasperation grew, but I hadn’t dared to look all the way up to check. Eventually she cracked. 

“What have I told you?” 

That day would be the first time my mom’s most important lesson made sense to me, though it would take a number of years for me to fully absorb it. 

We were at recess. A group of classmates pulled me to one side. Their frisbee had got stuck in the tree, too high for anyone to throw a ball and knock. Could you fetch it for us? I wasn’t sure, it was pretty high and far out on the branch. But you know how to climb trees, they said, you climb the highest and fastest out of everyone. Won’t you help? It’s not fair if you don’t, you only need to shake the branch a little... They had a point. I was the best, and it wouldn’t be hard for me to do. They wouldn’t get it back that recess otherwise, so I agreed with a smile. 

It was high up. Even with my speed, by the time I reached the branch in question the gaggle of classmates had swollen to half the playground cheering me on, finally attracting the attention of horrified teachers. One called out, I panicked at their tone and slipped, slamming my head on a branch and landing with one arm outstretched futilely to break my fall. 

Apparently I went thud. I don’t remember that last part, though my classmates would argue over the exact noise for a week. I do remember being pinned to a board in the back of an ambulance, trying to get the paramedics to understand my mom was going to kill me if she found out. Too late, they said, she was on her way to the hospital. She’ll be there already, I said, to which they laughed. They stopped with a choke when they opened the back of the ambulance and there she was, glowering up at me with her jaw set. That was the last time I would look her in the eye for the next few hours. 

We said nothing to each other, save her sharp ‘well?’ when I was expected to answer a question she couldn’t. I passed through the hands of baffled trauma teams then X-ray staff to the children’s ward doctors. They could find nothing wrong with me other than a mild concussion, an associated graze, and a sprained wrist from my failed attempt to completely break my fall. I was very lucky, they repeatedly told me, I should have been killed from that height. I was to stay in overnight for observation. I guess they thought they’d missed something. After checking me over for the umpteenth time the final doctor left, then our stubborn battle began in earnest. 

I’m not sure why she caved first for once. Maybe because the other adults were doting on their poorly kids and glancing over like she had two heads, or because some of the other inmates were whispering about the chill in the air as her eyes bored into my skull. Most likely she knew Dad’s imminent arrival would undermine whatever lesson she had planned, his hugs and kisses ruining the gravitas, so she started as though I’d made a noise first.

“What have I told you?” 

It wasn’t a riddle. We’d talk after every episode of my favourite superhero cartoons, each time my Uncle appeared on TV as The Great Saiyaman, when I’d slip and call the martial arts and ki-techniques she was teaching me ‘superpowers’. Her mantra formed the closing lines of the bedtime stories of my parents’ hard-won battles.

You always have a choice, she’d say. But she didn’t understand, I did choose! It made sense to help. I was the best at climbing and was the only one who-- She grabbed my chin in one hand, forcing me to look her in the eye, her usual move when she wanted her words to stick. I think that’s when she got reported for her unorthodox parenting style, but that’s another story.

“That isn’t giving yourself a choice. You don’t have to risk yourself to help anyone, do you understand me?” 

I now appreciate why my mother was so vexed that day. It wasn’t at me, more it was with herself at not hammering home the message hard enough and soon enough. 

There’s a painful double standard in the world. We tell our kids to have big dreams and to do what makes them happiest, but the moment a child shows aptitude for something society finds useful they’re cajoled and pushed. Dare to take a different path and the interrogation become endless. I don't understand, the people say, you’re so talented, why didn't you follow your ideal career? Didn’t you want to be rich, or successful, or famous, or powerful? You could have been someone. We had such high hopes. If I were you… Those words sting, no matter the context or love with which they’re said. I’ve heard them a lot the past few days from confused colleagues and I don’t expect that to stop as the news filters out. 

Like all parents in some respects, my mom was fretting over whether she was doing the right thing. On the one hand her teaching would grant me immunity to most of life’s dangers. When my training was finished forget a fall, I could get hit by a truck and not budge an inch. On the other those same abilities would put me in the position to help when no one else could. If found out I would become a commodity to society, it would be deemed unreasonable and even irresponsible of me to decline to help and I'd be trapped. Even at that young age people were already tugging at my sleeves demanding small but potentially dangerous things. Like climbing trees. They’d sensed how easily my arm was twisted and over the years the pleading escalated. I’d see their distress and agree to help with that smile. Fetching balls from busy roads. Standing up to bullies. Chasing down a friend’s stolen phone - the mugger could have turned a gun on me at any point but I did as I was asked by my friend’s wordless yell. After all, who else right then and there could have help her?

Before I could blink I had a reputation. Classmates questioned why I wanted to go to college to write and not follow my dad into the police force, or even register to be a Crimefighter. Some were even angry. You’d be so good, so famous, I bet you’d be the best! You have so much potential - you shouldn’t waste it! I don’t understand - if I were you… I’d hidden as much of my training as I could and yet because I was so easily swayed to see the ‘common sense’ in helping they knew I was capable of something more than them. Escaping the path then dictated to me by society took a strength of will I would never have gained if it wasn’t for my family’s unwavering support. Without it I may have gone on to do my ‘duty’, that smile still plastered on my face, and hated every moment.

I may have sworn off a life of crime-fighting but I couldn’t turn my back completely. My closest friends, far more gifted in this arena than myself, went through the same struggle. We didn’t want the attention or the pressure of daily Hero work, we wanted a normal life to cling to. But we’re human to a fault - we couldn’t ignore all the world’s troubles. So instead we Shadowed, the best compromise we stumbled upon. We could move freely through the world as mere citizens, helping when we chose - not when summoned. Expectation still dogged us, though. When out the public saw my all-blacks not as a way to conceal my identity but as a uniform, a promise to help. They’d hide behind me, just like they would any named Hero or Crimefighter. I may have been free to come and go but in the moment my station was not. 

Shadowing came with a price; without an identity we lack a voice in defence and we became an easy target. We receive praise but it’s sparing, quite rightly the bulk is reserved for the plain-clothed volunteers on the ground. But once, where we were a welcome boost to the effort, nowadays our presence at disasters is expected. We’d fallen into doing our ‘duty’, though not correctly as we had the audacity to hide our faces and not give the journalists a sporting chance to hunt us down, and it drew their ire. I’d have to bite my tongue reading colleagues disparage us across the pages and even I couldn’t write too empathetically, lest my identity and connections become obvious. At times the lack of public understanding drove me to tears. Yet as the years passed Mom continued to stare me down. You still have a choice. But I did choose, I wasn’t a Hero really, I just needed to stay a little longer next time. Be more thorough, be faster. Do that then it’d be okay, people would be satisfied. She’d shake her head.

Then the true insignificance of this noise I’d been bending over backwards to placate became stupidly obvious with the arrival of something far worse than some natural disaster. For the briefest of moments the nonsense fell away, and I finally understood her.

Imagine standing in front of a man thousands of times more powerful than you could ever be. He’s willing to let you and the people you care about live if you just stepped aside. “What’s worth saving,” he says, “who here is worth dying for?” Imagine wondering, after days of headlines trashing you for a mistake you were more than capable of beating yourself up over, whether there even was a point to trying anymore. Nothing would ever be enough. You could leave, you could be safe. You’re not obligated to save the ingrates on this rock time and time again. What difference could your puny ass make, anyway? Why risk your life for literally nothing? Those you care about would understand. You even plan, your foot twitches to move. 

You should walk away.

But you don’t.

Because it’s your home he wants and you’ll be damned if you’re handing it over.

And that’s what my mom meant by making a free choice. Not to act because you’re asked or shamed or want to please everyone, but because this time you think it’s the right thing to do, even for selfish reasons. Especially for selfish reasons. Screw duty, unbeholden to anyone you choose to act - whether it conforms to noble expectation or not. Mom may be the type to walk away in moments like that and I know she’d rather I follow suit, but all my parents have ever truly wanted is the weight of responsibility off my shoulders. As long as I have no regrets or guilt they couldn’t be happier for me. With that one terrifying decision made in spite of the ocean of faces hiding behind me, from then on I really didn’t care what people thought of my Shadowing.

We were told we could leave that day, that we should. We’d have a better chance on the run. But until we have no other option we’re staying. Despite all its flaws this is our home and we made up our minds back then to not budge.

Next time we appear remember: we choose freely to walk through fire, toss aside that rubble, carry you above rising waters and yes, risk death literally defending the planet. All because we want to, not because it is expected of us. The words in the media and in idle chatter around us can still leave a bitter taste at times but I can safely say they won’t lead me to dwell. Say what you want to me - If I were you… but you’re not. Tough.

The name the media and public use for me is Auntie Shadow, but between us? My name is Marron, and this is how Shadowing came to pass.

[docayin-blog]

Summer Deer Scouting Strategies with Attractants and Trail Cameras

FOR MANY WHITE-TAILED DEER HUNTERS, JULY AND AUGUST ARE THE MONTHS TO GET SERIOUS ABOUT GATHERING VITAL HUNTING INTEL WITH TRAIL CAMERAS AND QUALITY FEED ATTRACTANTS. HERE'S HOW IT'S DONE AND WHY IT WORKS.

With the passage of the Fourth of July on the calendar, a subtle shift occurrs in the gray matter of most whitetail hunters across the country; the countdown to deer season is officially on for another year.

With weeks remaining before the opening bell in the year's whitetail hunting campaign, many hunters are hanging treestands and conducting daily sessions of punching 3D targets to hone bow shooting skills. And as time permits, they are setting up a scouting and recon strategy on hunting properties with trail cameras to see how the local deer population is doing and which bucks will fill our autumnal dreams.

For North Texas bowhunter Jim Lillis, a retired senior regional director with Ducks Unlimited, that last chore is one of the most enjoyable parts of the deer hunting pastime each year, the first cyber-glance at what might be possible in the hunting woods later in the fall.

With a number of sizeable whitetail bucks on his wall — including a typical 10-point Boone and Crockett Club public-land giant sporting a net score of 175 2/8 inches — Lillis admits deer hunting is as much about the anticipation of chasing big bucks as it is the execution of a successful shot.

This is why Lillis starts getting excited about fall deer hunting during the hot dog days of summer.

How does he begin his autumn pursuit now when the heat is on? By getting into the woods, or more accurately, getting his trail cameras and attractants in the woods.

"Start by looking at places where you might expect to see deer on your hunting property," said Lillis. "Take a look at places where you've seen deer in the past and you'll likely see them again."

For Lillis, such spots include any known deer trails and the edges of timberline. They'll also include local food sources, either natural places like native plants and browse, agricultural crop field edges, or even warm-season food plots and feeders. And in building heat of summer, don't forget to check waterholes, which can be hidden little deer magnets.

When you've got several such spots figured out on a familiar piece of hunting ground — or you've taken some educated guesses for a new property — Lillis says it's time to let quality deer attractants and trail cameras go to work.

While he relies on a number of trail cameras each year, during summer scouting, Lillis doesn't put a camera in every corner of his hunting ground since deer movement is scattered and whitetail bucks are in loose bachelor groups. But he does put out enough to help him gather intel and gain an inventory of deer utilizing his hunting spots.

"Take a local property I hunt, one that's maybe 150 acres," he said. "As I start gathering information, I'll put out four cameras on that place, a couple on food sources and a couple on travel routes. And I'll occasionally put one out in a more random place, like a spot where a tree fell on a barbed wire fence in a storm a few years ago. It's not a normal travel route, but I discovered that bucks and does were crossing there (until the fence was repaired)."

When his trail cameras are out, Lillis relies on a good attractant to help lure in local whitetails. Though feeding, baiting and/or attracting whitetails is not legal in all places, Lillis' home state allows for the practice and he's more than willing to take advantage

While the use of yellow nuggets of corn is standard fare for many deer hunters in Texas, Lillis sweetens the proverbial pot by using attractants and mineral products like those available from Grand Island, Nebraska-based, Big & J Long Range Attractants.

Made famous over the years by the likes of Outdoor Channel hunting show personalities Michael Waddell and Travis "T-Bone" Turner among others, Big & J products like Deadly Dust, Liquid Luck, Meltdown, and Legit combine powerful deer attracting aromas that lure whitetails from considerable distances along with highly digestible protein and minerals that aid in meeting their nutritional needs.

Do they work? Waddell is certainly a believer, saying on one Big & J video that he's very impressed.

As one of the company's catchy sayings goes, "The aroma is super strong. The range is super long!"

One such product hunters might consider using is Big & J To-Die-For, which uses real sweet corn and is said to be five times sweeter than standard field corn. In addition to using the power of aroma to lure in bucks and does, the product also gives them a high level of total digestible nutrition (TDN) to assist in body growth and antler development.

Another Big & J product that can assist in pre-season trail-camera survey work is BB2 Granular, a high-level protein product that can lure bucks out into the open for summer intel gathering. It also can help establish regular travel patterns as summer turns into fall and keep bucks on their feet, even during daylight hours.

One final product to keep in mind is Big & J's The Cube, a block product perfect for hard-to-reach places, giving hunters an easy-to-carry compressed form of BB2. With more protein and less salt than other products, The Cube uses "Get Noticed" attracting aroma to lure whitetails and the power of nutrition to keep them coming back for more.

Are such protein- and mineral-rich attractants some sort of magical, aromatic silver bullet? Maybe not. But then again, they certainly don't hurt a deer hunter's reconnaissance work during the hot summer months, especially at a time when daily deer movement is not always consistent.

"When legal where you hunt, feed and attractants certainly increase your odds of seeing what's out there," said Lillis. "Animals go to food sources like we go to a plate of cookies straight out of the oven.

"Later in the year, when natural food resources have become more limited, it's easier to figure out deer movement patterns," he said. "But now in the summer months, when there is so much natural food readily available, it's a little harder to determine their daily patterns. By using feed and attractants, you can draw deer in from a pretty good distance and that can give you an idea of what you've got on your hunting property."

Keep in mind just because it's the lazy days of summer, deer hunters can't afford to become careless when putting out trail cameras and attractants.

"You can get too wrapped up in all of this," warns Lillis. "If you go every few days, you're probably hurting yourself more than you're helping. You can get so wrapped up in getting images of deer that you're leaving scent behind and alerting deer to your presence."

To avoid doing that, Lillis says to take the same precautions in summertime whitetail-survey work that you would during fall hunts. This includes playing the wind properly, choosing entrance and exit routes wisely, showering with scent-elimination products wearing clothes washed in scentless detergent, wearing rubber boots when traveling, using latex gloves when setting out trail cameras, and spraying down yourself, your gear — including cameras — with scent-elimination spray.

To that same end, hunters might also want to consider using gravity style feeders when setting out products like those from Big & J. Such feeders can help lessen a hunter's intrusion time in an area, can help keep varmints at bay when attractants are out, and can also help keep products like Big & J BB2 sheltered from the elements."

"You don't want to wade through a buck's core area," said Lillis. "Because with every encounter that a deer has with you — even now during the summer — you're continually educating him."

The bottom line for this veteran bowhunter from Texas is deer hunting revolves around a few simple principles and practices, including doing work during the summer months to achieve a desired payoff later on in the fall.

"The tools and equipment have changed over the years," said Lillis. "And I guess the tactics have changed somewhat too. We've got better bows, better arrows, better broadheads, better stands, better clothing, better attractants, you name it.

"But as they always have done, deer get smart to what we're doing over time and they adapt and keep us at bay," he continued. "They're still a wild animal that is using all of their senses to elude you. You've got to work hard to outsmart them, just like you do in winning a chess match."

While using your trail cameras wisely with good attractants is nothing more than an opening move on the chessboard, it's still an important one despite the mid-summer date on the calendar.

One that can go a long, long way during fall to you cutting a shot and hanging your bow up quietly, smiling big, and whispering "Checkmate!" to yourself moments after putting a big buck down.