#working under capitalism is CRAZY why did I have to be born poor this is so unfair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atheistforhumanity · 5 years ago

Link

An Example of How Bill O’Reilly Ruined A Generation With Mass Manipulation

Now, you might be thinking, “who the fuck is Bill O’Reilly, and why do I care?” That’s a valid question. Lovable Bill, is the predecessor of Tucker Carlson. He was the shining star of Fox News for most of my life, and he captures the hearts of minds of my parents generation with low brow commentary, manipulative opinions, and dog whistle racism. Bill pretended to be a regular class working Joe that spoke up for the little guy. Tucker Carlson outed his gimmick years ago before he would take Bill’s place, and take on the same fake persona.

So, how did Bill O’Reilly ruin a generation? It’s pretty simple really. Bill O’Reilly was born into the upper class and eventually took a place as an opinion show host pretending to be news, that spouted populist rhetoric in a way that always redirected opinions and anger away from the real perpetrators. Bill is literally one the most dishonest people to ever be on mainstream media, and for over a decade he delivered alternative facts to fox viewers, down played anything anti-capatalist, anti-conservative, and anti-racist. His motto has always been “no spin,” but I’ve never seen him present the whole truth in an accurate way my whole life. Bill is a more well spoken Donald Trump, who uses people’s prejudices, preconceptions, and complete unwillingness to research anything to manipulate people’s minds for a capitalist agenda.

But how does he do this, Ryan? I wish you would be more specific instead of making accusations. Well, it happens that I just came across a band new article written on Bill’s blog, where he tries to continue the glory of yesteryear before he was fired for sexually harassing several women in the work place.

If you take two minutes to read the article linked above, you’ll see that Bill is arguing that bad parenting is the real cause of income inequality. His argument is quite literally, people aren’t raised right and that’s why they can’t succeed financially. He says specifically that it’s not capitalism's fault.

Before I address specifics, let me point out what is generally manipulative about this argument. Bill has touched on a topic that literally any generation of conservatives can get fired up about, and will have built in bias to agree with. Remember, conservatism is literally resistance to change and an affinity for tradition. This also means that every generation bitches and complains about how the next generation raises kids. Remember when your parents told you that you would go to hell for watching Elvis shake his hips? Remember when there were no changing tables in men’s bathrooms? Remember when kids in school used to play “beat the fag” and then they cried victim when we said that was wrong? Yea...

The point is that he’s using a prevalent belief that many different people(but mostly conservatives) can tap into for different (mostly) unspecified reasons. Then he is attributing that common cultural division as responsible for income inequality. We’ll come back to that.

Second, is that Bill makes a point that on some level makes sense, but doesn’t support his larger claim. Are there a lot of bad parents out there? Sure. Do they have a negative effect on the child’s life as he suggests? Of course. Now we could argue all day about what makes a bad parent exactly or the prevalence of bad parents, but it’s irrelevant, because Bill hasn’t given us any solid reason to accept that this alone (or at all) is the cause of income inequality! It’s an outrageously dishonest argument. That doesn’t matter though, because this is how Bill’s followers respond...

Okay, I was going to screen shot some positive responses to Bill tweeting this article but I didn’t see any. Let’s just move on.

Now, let’s take a look at the substance of Bill’s piece.

Education: “If a young child is not exposed to learning by age two, that innocent, helpless person is already at risk in a competitive society. If there are no books in the home, no awareness-building games, no fun dialogue with the parents, the child may not develop a curiosity about life.”

That’s interesting, Bill, because public education and programs like Pre-K are socialist inspired initiatives supplied by the government for the benefit of everyone. Head start programs were first installed by LBJ, but the Black Panthers had actually initiated similar programs in inner cities to feed children breakfast before school.

To say that capitalism has no role in this issue is delusional. Capitalism accepts and even encourages inequality. Betsy Devos is the champion of capitalist education, where attendance is not guaranteed and any difficult or low performing students can be weeded out to create the appearance of success, under no public oversight.

The fight is always the same, liberals want to increase educational funding and conservatives don’t. This is why red states have teacher strikes all over the country and Republicans are fighting against publicly funded college.

If access to education from an early age is so important then we cannot withhold education and then blame those stuck in the cycle of poverty for their own inequity.

Environment/Work Ethic:

Here’s an old and tired argument from the right. People are poor because they don’t work hard enough. But, Bill, how could that be? The average unemployment rate in America is between 3-4%, and the worst is in Alaska with 6.4%. Clearly most Americans are working, you’re always bragging about how great this economy is. Republicans tell people who need assistance to get jobs, but surprise they already have them! We know people aren’t struggling to live because they’re not working, because we have clear numbers that show people are working full-time, but not earning enough to pay basic bills. It’s crazy, it’s almost like the cost of living just keep rising, but the amount people get paid doesn’t. All of this is happening despite the fact that corporate profits have soared, but it never translates into better wages.

While Bill drones on in his article about derelict parents, he never once actually looks at income. He sure doesn’t mention that the amount people are paid is literally up to the people at the top of the economic latter. They can choose to pay workers more or they can stash away more profit in their bank accounts. Guess which one they choose? Despite the fact that we have clear data that shows those who choose how much to pay workers are raising their own profits, the rich like Bill O’Reilly continually berate people as lazy. The entire argument is completely disingenuous because workers are at the mercy of employers.

And if you’re thinking, why doesn’t everyone just get a better job, you’re not thinking that statement through. The Bureau of Labor Statistics tracks how many jobs in the market pay minimum wage or less, and that’s roughly 2.3%.(Nearly 2 million people) You think, great, people can just get a better job. No, not really, because a large number of jobs pay just above the minimum wage and are not included in this figure. Even most retail jobs pay $1 above minimum at least. Pew Research wondered this too, and in 2004 they found that roughly 30% of all hourly workers were making more than minimum wage (7.25 at the time) and less than $10. Guess what, nearly 59% of the entire US workforce are hourly workers, and a third of them are were making $10 or less. I make 13$ an hour, live with a roommate, and am just able to live with no savings in 2019. If I had a wife making the same amount, we would drowned trying to raise even two kids. That’s a travesty.

Roughly 35% of all jobs require a college degree, which is a significant debt due to increases in education and cost of living. Education is very important, but unfortunately most people who are born poor, historically, don’t get to go to college. What does capitalism say about this? Well, again, in a free market system there is no mechanism to correct the disadvantage people are born into, and generally no desire among conservatives to do so. Conservatism is stuck in the past where the poor and uneducated make perfect laborers, but labor as a staple job market is dead in the 21st century. Hence the push toward service jobs, which is all an uneducated person do.

The numbers tell the real story. People are working, but not being paid enough. The people controlling the pay are increasing their own pay. Cost of living is rising faster than worker pay. Funding for education has been stagnant and the cost of higher education rising. All this and I haven’t even gotten into the politics that effect this issue.

How did Bill O’Reilly destroy a generation? By feeding them ignorant, pandering garbage like this article every night for years. By completely ignoring the real facts of any issue and directing your attention to a manipulative hot button, tailored to the bias of conservatives.

The sad thing is that Bill is completely representative of everyone championed by the right wing. They are unintelligent, malicious, racist, greedy, and completely dishonest.

#liberal #economic inequality #civil rights #workers rights #Bill O'Reilly #right wing media #fox news #tucker carlson #minimum wage #corporate america #conservatives #republicans

43 notes · View notes

lilacmoon83 · 5 years ago

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 205: High Hopes

Emma sighed, as she looked out over the water and became lost in thought, absorbing everything that had happened. Despite knowing that everything her father did was for them, she was relieved to know that he had not really killed anyone. She knew him, both halves of him. She knew his lighter half would be horrified and would have struggled to live with such, even with her mother's love. And his darker half...she could see the strain was weighing on him heavily as well. Her father's darker half wasn't really evil, though he was much more willing to commit evil acts in the name of protecting those he loved.

Seth, however, was the real deal. He was a rare occurrence that had literally been born evil. He was without empathy completely and found delight in carnage on a daily basis. Her father had capitalized on that by using the chalice to give him spectacular fights and flashy executions to entertain him. But she wondered how much longer that would sustain a monster like him. If he demanded to see real blood and carnage, she wondered if even the so called evil half of her father had it in him to slaughter innocents. But she knew Arthur had no such conscience anymore and neither did Gawain. They could please the dark Lord with their savagery and if her father fell out of favor, she feared what Mephisto might try to do to her parents.

"We'll find them, love," Killian called from the wheel and she sighed, as she joined him there. She leaned her head against his arm and he kissed her hair.

"I know...we just need to find a way to interject ourselves into their lives in a plausible way. I mean...just showing up at their door isn't going to be the best strategy," she mentioned.

"Well...you have a law enforcement background," he said. She winced.

"In Storybrooke...that isn't exactly going to work out here. Plus, I mention Storybrooke, Maine and they run it through a government database and the debacle in Seattle will probably come up," she replied. He looked confused.

"It will?" he asked. He was still foggy about how all that worked, thanks to not waking up until the curse was broken and they had been in a rush to get through the portal. He remembered the National guard trying to get through Summer's shield, but had never given it much thought.

"Oh yeah...and the only reason I know this is because Doc and Happy are fascinated with all the conspiracy stuff. They listen to all those crazy podcasts and YouTube videos that people have made about that day. Apparently, the government has pretty much classified all the information about that day," she said.

"Yeah...I'm still not sure I know what that means," he replied.

"It means basically that they know more about that day than they're willing to tell the public and the official story they released is mostly crap," she explained.

"But...the public saw a lot of barking mad stuff that day," he said.

"Which is why there is so many people out there fascinated by it and the conspiracies are rampant," she replied, as she got an odd thought.

"Come to think of it...it's kind of weird that no one has recognized my parents from that day," she mentioned. He nodded.

"Yeah...they were in the tabloids a lot leading right up to that day and at the center of the whole thing. I'm sure the videos are still out there," he said.

"Yeah...but my Dad is working for the FBI now, according to Gold," she replied.

"So...you think they know?" he asked.

"They would have to," she replied.

"Then that would mean they are letting him work for them for a reason and they would have to be aware that he has no memory of Seattle," he deduced.

"Which means someone high up thinks they can use him for something," Emma said.

"Do you think they might try to use your Dad to get to Storybrooke?" he asked.

"Storybrooke...the United Realms...the God damn chalice...who knows," she exclaimed with worry.

"My Dad could be in some real danger...I don't trust those government creeps at all," she said.

"We'll find them, love," he assured.

"Yeah...there might be a couple people in the FBI we can trust though. They might know something or they could at least do some digging for us," Emma said.

"Angela and Nick?" he recalled the two agents that had been drawn into their world for a brief time.

"It's worth a shot," Emma said, as she dialed a number and hoped the agents had not changed their phone numbers in the last few years.

~*~

The girl fidgeted uncomfortably and tried to conceal her shaking hands, as she met the professor behind her dorm. This one was well on her way into withdraws and was easy to tempt when he promised her a hit.

"So...what kind of drug is this?" she asked nervously, as she kept looking around in paranoia.

"It's something new...but I guarantee you'll get the high you seek," Dr. Jenkins stated. If the girl had been in her right mind, she might have questioned the motives of a professor that was giving drugs to students, but for her, all she could think about was satiated her habit.

"A needle? I like pills," she mentioned.

"I don't have pills, but this will go into your system almost immediately. The effects are almost instantaneous," he promised and smirked knowingly when she offered her arm. He shot her up with his concoction and stepped back, praying that this was the right formula.

The thoughts in his head were so loud now that he hadn't slept a wink. He couldn't get her out of his head and all the things he wanted to do with her. He was convinced that she belonged at his side and he fantasized about her husband meeting some horrible end almost as much as he was thinking about being in bed with her. If he could just reign in his dark thoughts with this drug, he knew he'd be more stable and could finally tell her how he felt and convince her that they belonged together.

The poor girl began to convulse and scream at the top of her lungs, as she held her head in agony.

"What...what's happening to me?!" she cried out. He looked hopeful, as she seemingly started to phase, but as good as it seemed to be going, it quickly dissolved into horror, as the poor young woman began to convulse and vomit blood. She collapsed into her own pool of blood and began seizing, until her heart gave out and she expired.

The doctor angrily kicked the wall. He had been very careful and thanks to the chill in the fall air, he was wearing gloves. He concealed the dirty syringe in his pocket and quickly left the area. He was careful to make sure they were in an area just outside campus cameras. Another failure and another body. He was fairly certain that he could stay ahead of the cops, but the darkness in his mind was growing stronger and making him more erratic. He needed to find where he was going wrong with his serum, so it was back to his lab. He couldn't sleep anyway, so he would once again work through the night.

~*~

As he kissed her deeply, as per usual, she lost herself in him and only him. His fear for her and them all was tangible and that had translated to the impassioned and insatiable lovemaking that they had been engaged in now for hours into the night. Winter was beside herself in pleasure, as her husband made love to her with desperate passion. Finally, after hours of pursuing completeness and satiating their hunger for each other, they lay entwined beneath the bedclothes in their chambers, with Winter idly tracing the lines of definition on his torso

"My love…" she finally said.

"He put his hands on you…" he growled.

"But I am fine...thanks to you," she reminded him. But he shook his head.

"I should have immediately sensed you were in danger," he lamented.

"You have been preoccupied and your duties weigh heavily on you. I know this," she said.

"I didn't feel the danger to you right away...that's never happened," he admitted.

"My love...the incredible pressure you are under is crushing and you felt it the moment you stepped through the portal. You found me before he could truly hurt me," she insisted.

"Not before he struck you...I cannot live with that if it happens again. Next time...he could hurt you badly and I would rather die than let that happen," he said fiercely.

"You are being much too hard on yourself," she chided, as she kissed his lips tenderly. He sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, taking solace in her kiss and her touch.

"You are everything to me, my darling...I cannot lose you," he said.

"And you will not. I fear for you too, my love. I fear what Seth may do to you if we are discovered," she replied.

"Then we must prepare for the worst. If Emma does not return before he does, then you must promise me you will take Hope through the portal at a moment's notice," he said.

"Not without you," she replied.

"You must, my darling…" he insisted and she closed her eyes, hating everything about this.

"I promise...but I will not need to. Emma and Killian will soon return and then we will end that monster," she said, as he held her close. He could only hope she was right.

~*~

"Wow...that's some story and a bit out there. And that's coming from someone that runs one of the most trafficked conspiracy podcasts on the net," the man said, as he had coffee with the young FBI analyst at a coffee kiosk just outside the Boston FBI headquarters.

"I know what it sounds like, but I'm telling you that it's him," Trevor insisted, as he showed the man that was behind the Conspiracies Unearthed podcast on the Internet.

"That does look like him though...but he hasn't changed at all," the podcaster said.

"Doesn't that play into all the theories out there?" Trevor asked.

"Sure does...and you said he acts like he has no memory of living in Seattle?" he questioned.

"Yeah, but it's a pretty good act. I really don't think he remembers," Trevor said. But the man looked skeptical.

"He's an FBI agent...he's trained to lie his way out of anything," he said.

"Fair point...but this is a pic of his desk. Zoom in on the family photo," Trevor replied, as he showed him.

"Damn...that's her too and the kids. They actually look older too," he said, as he compared the photo to the video from Seattle seven years ago.

"It's definitely compelling...and I can use it, but more proof would be nice. Can you get anything else? Like a file or something?" the pseudo journalist asked.

"I'll try...but I can't get you his file. I'd get fired for that," Trevor replied.

"Listen kid...do you want to work for the system that hides this stuff from us forever or do you want to blow the coverup wide open on this thing?" the man asked. Trevor was silent for a moment.

"I'll see what I can get," he said, making no promises, before hurrying into work.

~*~

David stepped off the elevator that morning, with coffee in hand, ready for another day of painstakingly going through files of their potential suspect pool. It was frustrating, because he knew that if their unknown subject was devolving that it would not be long until they had another body.

"Hey...it's super agent," one of his co-workers called out. He sighed, but took the razzing in stride. He knew it was in good humor, but he was well aware that he didn't exactly fit in with some of the other agents his age in this division. A lot of them hung out after work together, despite some of them having families. But he always declined. Not because he didn't like them, but he just never had the desire to spend even more time away from his own family.

"Are you ever not going to call me that?" David asked.

"Maybe when you don't solve a case. Seriously...your case record is either pure luck or you've got powers or something," agent Ethan Chavez replied. He sighed.

"Probably luck then, because I definitely don't have powers," David said.

"Yeah...wanna test that luck? We're playing poker after work," agent Brian Dorsey asked.

"Ah...no thanks. I already spend eight to ten hours away from my wife as it is. I'd rather not spend even more time away from her," he replied. Dorsey shook his head.

"You're an odd one, Nolan. Most guys would jump at the chance for a night away from the ball and chain," he commented. David had to bite his tongue to keep from responding too harshly. Dorsey had quite the reputation around the office. He was married, but it was a poorly kept secret that he could often be found at the nearby cop bars and had little respect for any vows he had once taken to his spouse. He liked most of the other guys, but there was always that one and in this group, it was definitely Dorsey.

"I really hope you're not referring to my wife as a ball and chain," David warned, though he kept any malice from his voice. As expected, Dorsey wisely backtracked.

"Uh, course not...nothing but respect for the ladies," he said.

"You're such a douche canoe, Dorsey. You wouldn't know how to respect a woman even if your life depended upon doing so," Agent Danielle Harding commented derisively. David smirked at that, as he entered the conference room with his coffee.

"Agent Harding will be joining us today for an extra pair of eyes," Pat said, as she and Trevor entered the room. David noticed the analyst giving him more odd glances, but tried to ignore the quirky tech.

"I think I'm up to speed...but this seems like a lot of violence for a female perpetrator," Danielle mentioned.

"We thought so too, but we didn't want to narrow our field too much since these aren't your ordinary serial killings," David said. She nodded in understanding.

"Okay...let's get to it," she said, as her phone rang and she answered it.

"Donovan," she said and then sighed.

"Where?" she asked and David knew that meant they had another victim.

"We'll be right there," she said, as she hung up.

"Scratch that...we have another body. Boston College again this time," she replied.

"Harding...stay behind and narrow our list down to anyone that has access to the Boston College campus. Our suspect may have just narrowed our pool without knowing it," Pat said. Danielle nodded, as David followed his boss out.

"Summer's school again…" he said worriedly.

"He's escalating, which hopefully means he'll get sloppy and we'll catch a break," Pat replied, as they boarded the elevator.

"We'll get him," she assured.

~*~

"I really hope so, my angel, but I'm not sure this is possible," Fandral said, as they walked hand in hand to the library that morning.

"But Emma and Killian were able to get through whatever barrier the curse has put up," Rose protested.

"With a powerful spell and an added magical fog to conceal their escape. I'm not sure getting a message to another sector of realms will be plausible," he said.

"Except...I think it might," she replied, as they reached the library. But they were unpleasantly surprised to see that they had unwelcome company.

"Why are you here, demon?" Fandral hissed, as he drew his sword and guarded his wife.

"You weren't kidding...they're nearly identical to the Charmings," Arthur spat distastefully.

"We have come to return a book...a curious book we found in the Dark One's shop," Mephisto leered, as he dropped the large tome at their feet.

"You mean after you burned his shop to the ground?" Rose accused.

"Mind your tongue, pretty one or it might get snapped off," Gawain threatened, but that was a mistake, as her Asgardian husband moved with lightning quickness and lifted the demon off his feet by his neck.

"Threaten my beloved again and you will suffer the full wrath of my Asgardian might," Fandral warned, but the demon only chuckled evilly, as the warrior tossed him to the floor.

"Yes...we found it in the shop and curiously nothing else of real value. It is quite strange that all the Dark One's items of any value or magical importance have mysteriously disappeared, don't you think?" Mephisto questioned.

"We know nothing of the inventory the Dark One chooses to keep," Fandral refuted.

"No...but this book is definitely not his and came from here. A book on...ancient beings and star gems," he said in accusation. A shiver of fear slithered through them both and Fandral felt his dark presence, as he appeared behind them.

"It was me...I am responsible for that book leaving this library. Rose had nothing to do with it," Fandral confessed, as she clutched his arm.

"I expressly banned books like these and ordered they be stored away since, as even I was not able to burn this insufferable library to the ground," Seth growled.

"And the slip was mine, My Lord…" Fandral interjected, as the monster glowered at Rose.

"Silence…" he hissed, as he brought the Asgardian warrior to his knees with his mind meld.

"Fandral…" Rose cried, as she knelt beside him, just as Charming and Winter arrived.

"My Lord...allow me to deliver their executions as punishment," Charming said, as he shared a nervous look with his counterpart.

"No…" Seth refuted and fear rippled through them all. Mephisto smirked deviously.

"My Lord?" Charming asked.

"I have decided on a different form of punishment. Your execution would be far too swift for a grievance like this," Seth said, as he looked around in disgust.

"It pains me that not even I have the power to burn this library out of existence, but since it was created by the powers of many universes combined, it is beyond even my power. I do not like that," Seth continued.

"But I can install a new proprietor for the library. One that will do as I asked and store banned texts away from the masses," he growled, as he looked at the rulers of Andresia and Rose's uncle came into the room.

"I assure you...you shall not regret giving my Kingdom back to me, my Lord," John said, as he and Sir Hiss bowed deeply to him.

"You…" Fandral growled, but Seth's power kept him on his knees and John enjoyed the warrior's pain greatly.

"You and the lovely Rose Red have been a thorn in my side far too long. Finally...you both are about to get what you deserve," he hissed evilly.

"Yes...and the time has come to deliver that punishment," Seth declared. Rose cried out and buried her face in her husband's shoulder.

"My Lord…" Charming started to say.

"You will be silent!" Seth bellowed and he dropped to his knees, holding his head in pain. Winter fell beside him and her eyes met Rose's, astonished by how utterly broken she looked. She knew what was coming and her eyes were pleading with Winter's.

"The children…" Charming whispered. They would have to find a way to slip them out, but once Seth left, it would be easy to do so under John's nose.

"I hereby banish you both from the United Realms and cast you out into the All World River as I once was," Seth announced.

"And we know that you will likely survive such, Fandral of Asgard, but your wife will not," he hissed.

"And therein, you'll be delivered the ultimate punishment as you survive, while she dies in your arms and you are forced to hold her lifeless corpse and pray for a death you'll probably only receive after years of wandering the nothingness of the volatile river," he said with an evil gleam.

"Please...spare Rose. Kill me...but do not punish the mother of my children," Fandral begged.

"It is done…" Seth declared, as a portal was ripped open before them and the two were sucked away. Charming and Winter could only stare in horror, as their friends were gone and he turned to them.

"You will find me the Dark One dagger, my right hand or I will allow Mephisto's demons to rip your darling Winter apart however they please," he threatened, as Gawain ripped her away from him.

"Nooo!" Charming cried, but then he was holding his head in agony.

"Tell me where it is…" Seth demanded.

"I do not know what the imp did with it," he lied and Seth was not satisfied with that answer, before nodding to the demonic Gawain.

"Oh...this will be fun, pretty one," he hissed, as he grabbed her around the waist. Charming growled and tried to get to his feet, but the pain in his head wouldn't allow it. But a blast of orange magic hit him and sent the dark Lord smashing into a bookcase nearby.

"Impossible...you're dead," Mephisto hissed, as Aphrodite and James stood there, having come to their rescue. They had Fandral and Rose's crying children with them as well.

"Nothing is what it seems, demon...and your time will soon be up," the Goddess said, as Seth, now fully enraged, pulled himself from the rubble.

"You...you will pay for that, Goddess," he promised.

"Not today," Elsa said, as she froze all of them in place, as she and Leo arrived.

"That won't hold them long," she said, as Leo helped his father up.

"I knew it...I knew you were manipulating the great Seth and I will make sure you pay for your deception, Prince Charming," Mephisto growled. James threw a bean down and they all escaped through a portal. The entirety of the United Realms shook, as Seth roared in anger.

~*~

Summer walked onto campus that morning with a friend. Usually her dad dropped her off, but he had been called in on a case really early so she called a friend since the campus was in the opposite direction of Bobby and her mom's school.

"Thanks for the ride," she said.

"No worries...and looks like we have time to spare to grab coffee. You up for it?" her friend asked, as they saw the crime scene tape just ahead of them.

"Whoa...wonder what's going on there," her friend commented. Summer sighed.

"The reason my dad couldn't give me a ride. I'll catch up to you in a bit," she said, as she approached the scene.

"No trespassing from the public," the uniformed officer at the scene said.

"Relax Officer...she's the daughter of one of my agents," Patricia admonished, as she motioned the girl forward.

"Someone else died?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so, sweetheart...do you know this girl?" Patricia asked, as she showed her a picture from a file. They already had the gruesome sight covered with a tarp or she would have never let Summer near the scene.

"She kind of looks familiar so I've probably seen her around campus. But I'm sorry, I didn't know her personally," Summer said, as David came over and hugged his little girl.

"That's okay...I didn't think you would. She didn't exactly strike me as someone who would hang out with the same people you do," Patricia said.

"Daddy...are the students in danger?" Summer asked. David looked at his boss and she cocked her head to the side.

"To be honest, I'm not sure, peanut. But we'll be here most of the day, so for now, just go to your classes and then I'll be here to take you home. But it would make me feel better if you didn't go anywhere alone on campus," he said. She smiled.

"I have friends in most of my classes. I'll walk with them," she promised.

"That's my girl...I'll see you later," he said.

"Love you daddy," she replied.

"Love you too, peanut," he said, as he watched her go.

"We have to find who is doing this. Right now it's drug addicts, but what happens if this guy decides to try a larger victim pool?" David fretted.

"The profile would suggest that his desperation will increase, especially since he's back to not caring if it's students. Having more subjects would be appealing. So far though, it would seem that this serum has to be injected into the blood and there is one thing that struck me about our latest victim," Patricia said, as she opened the file.

"You found a friend of hers?" David asked. She nodded.

"I just got off the phone with her just before Summer came over. She didn't want to meet in person, but was surprised when I told her that her friend died from a needle drug. She said her friend was a pill popper. She never used needles...ever. She hated them," Patricia replied.

"Wow...so our perp had to be pretty convincing and she had to be pretty desperate to do a needle," David surmised.

"That's what I'm thinking, which plays more into our theory that this person is someone highly educated and in a position that naturally gives them trust and respect," she added. He sighed.

"Like a Professor," he said, as he became deeply worried.

"We'll get him. Now that he's back to students again...there is no more keeping this quiet. I'm going to deliver the profile. Then it's only a matter of time before our suspect goes for broke," she said, as he saw the reporters gathering outside the crime scene tape.

"Okay...what about her parents? Someone needs to talk to them," he said and she looked at him sadly.

"I'm afraid there's no father in her file and her mother is worse off than she is," she said, as she showed him the rap sheet on the mother.

"She's pretty strung out and probably doesn't even remember she has a daughter," Patricia said, as she went to make a statement with the press. He sighed, as the medical examiner van arrived and he supervised the scene, as they prepared to take the body away.

~*~

When they arrived through the portal, Eva rushed to her parents and they hugged her.

"Eva...you're okay," Winter said. She nodded.

"Paul and Hope are here too," she assured.

"And Henry?" Charming asked.

"We're fine too...gramps," Henry said, as he Ella, and Lucy were safe as well.

"Uncle James has been busy rounding everyone up," Leo said, as he hugged them too.

"Thank Rumple...he saw that Seth was on the warpath and headed for Andresia," James said.

"Unfortunately, we couldn't save Rose and Fandral," Aphrodite said sadly.

"Oh Charming…" Winter cried, as he took her in his arms.

"Then...our mama and papa are really gone?" Ben asked brokenly. None of them could find a voice to tell them.

"There may be hope, young ones," Hermes said, as she appeared and they ran to her, as she was like an Aunt to them.

"I was able to send a message in a bottle into the All World River earlier. I used an enchantment that gave it coordinates for New Asgard. There is a chance that Lady Sif will find it and send Thor to save them. The bi-frost will be their only chance now," Hermes informed them.

"Then...there is a chance they are still alive?" Carina asked.

"I cannot be certain, sweetheart, but we must not lose hope," she told her.

"Like my charges...yours are very strong as well. We must hope Thor will come to their aid and help them return to us," Hermes said.

"Does he know? About this place?" Rumple asked, as he and Belle arrived.

"Not specifically, but now he knows of our betrayal. We need to evacuate as many innocents here as we can," Charming said, as he looked to Anton.

"What is our bean supply like?" he asked.

"Fortunately, we have hundreds on hand. As long as he does not find us here," Anton answered.

"He can't access Bald Mountain without the dagger," Rumple said.

"Which he's soon going to realize isn't here in the United Realms," Regina feared.

"Which means he'll figure out we sent it with Snow and David," Robin deduced.

"You think he'll send one of his minions to Boston?" Belle asked.

"Most likely, which means we need to warn Emma. But firstly, we have to gather as many innocents as possible," Winter replied.

"As soon as he knows what we're doing...it will be difficult to evade him and his minions. And I don't think I have to tell you if he gets through one of our portals to this place...it's over," Rumple warned.

"Then we have to be very smart and quick," Charming said.

"We could create some weather issues...the three of us," Eva said, as she motioned to her twin and Elsa.

"She's right. A nice little snowstorm over Olympus, a tornado smashing through Nephilim, and a lightning event in Storybrooke could provide some cover," Leo suggested.

"I have more fog spells like I used on the Harbor to conceal Emma and Killian's escape. If I combine them, we could have a large enough blanket of fog to conceal us for a short time," Rumple said. Charming nodded.

"Mom...the reserve. He might attack it in retaliation," Leo feared.

"Your father and I will use the chalice to seal it off. Only someone of our bloodline will be able to get in," she promised.

"Everyone has their mission. Let's go," Charming said, as they all became very busy.

~*~

Seth's eyes bled yellow with rage, as he stomped around his Throne room atop Mount Olympus.

"They will pay...they will all pay…" he growled, as the structure of his palace trembled in his wake.

"I knew they had betrayed you, my Lord...I just couldn't prove it until now," Mephisto said, but he withered under the God's glower.

"Silence…" he snapped, as he continued to seethe.

"I want the dagger!" he roared.

"My Lord...if I may, the Dark One is crafty and it is possible that the dagger is not within this realm," Arthur said.

"What do you mean?" Seth asked.

"The brats...it would be just like that imp to send it with a child. He'd never trust another family with it," Gawain agreed.

"Then you two will go to the Land Without Magic. You will find the dagger for me and you will kill Snow White, Prince David, and their snotty brats! Without magic...they shall be no match for your demonic powers," Seth shouted. Arthur smirked.

"It would be our incredible honor to grind their bones to powder, my Lord," the former King said.

"And you're sure they have no magic?" Gawain questioned. Seth smirked.

"The foolish Winter and Charming were greedy and kept the chalice between them," he said.

"Excellent...we shall leave at once, my Lord...that is if you can provide us a way," Arthur said. Seth raised his hand and tore a hole in into the Maine woods that surrounded the concealment of the United Realms.

"It will be up to the two of you to find your way to them in a place called Boston. Make the mortals out there help you if you must," he said. The two nodded and walked through the portal, before it closed.

"And you...do not return to my sight until you have Charming's head in your hand! Kill them all!" Seth demanded. Mephisto smirked and bowed to him.

"It will be my pleasure to deliver his corpse to you and get justice for you, My Lord," he said, as he disappeared in a poof of smoke. Seth continued to seethe.

"This is my Kingdom! And they will all pay!" he growled, as he continued to stomp around his Throne room in a fit.

~*~

Fandral had never been so terrified in his very long life as he was in this moment. He held Rose tightly in his arms, as the All World River whipped them around violently.

"My angel...you must stay with me," he pleaded, as he breathed into her mouth again. He was the only thing keeping her alive and his air was not enough. She was fading fast and tears slipped down his face, as he realized that he was going to lose her. If he did, then he would beg the river for death.

"It's...it's all right, my love," she said, as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You...can let me go. I'll always be with you," she rasped.

"You must save your breath...you must, my angel," he pleaded, as she weakly raised a hand to his handsome face.

"You must go on...for our children," she pleaded to him.

"I...I cannot lose you. I cannot survive that," he sobbed.

"You must...kiss me one last time, my love…" she requested and he could not deny her, as he crushed his lips against hers in the most passionate kiss ever.

"Rose...Rose please!" he cried almost uncontrollably, as she slowly slipped away in his arms. He had fought some of the worst scurges to ever exist and had faced battles that should have ended him without fear. None of that had ever fazed him, but losing her brought this warrior to the brink of insanity and he cried over her like he never had before.

"Please...all mighty Odin please!" he pleaded.

"I know you can hear me, Odin! I beg you to take me if you are going to take her!" he sobbed, as he buried his face in her chest and cried harder when he realized it was no longer rising and falling.

As if to answer him, a light suddenly was shining upon him. But it was not the long dead Odin that had come to put him out of his misery. He looked up through his tears and found his friend there, still with saddened eyes and a bit haggard, but he was there.

"She will not die today, my friend and neither will you. I will lose no more friends," Thor declared, as the bi-frost snapped them up and deposited them back in New Asgard.

Fandral gently lay Rose on the ground and a man that he recognized as Eric Selvig knelt down beside them.

"Please...I have medical training," he said. He nodded and he started pumping Rose's chest.

"I want you to breathe for her now," Eric instructed and he did so. After a few breaths, Rose took a strangled one of her own and her green eyes, those green eyes he feared he would never see again, opened.

"Rose…" he uttered brokenly and then looked up at them.

"I can never repay this debt I owe to you all," he said, as he cradled his beloved in his arms and she took starved breaths of air.

"Happy to help," Eric assured.

"He's right...we received the message from Hermes and not too soon at all it would seem," Sif said.

"Yes...what has happened in your realm to cause this?" Thor questioned.

"It is quite a story, but we will tell you everything. Perhaps there is somewhere more comfortable though?" Fandral asked. They nodded and rose to their feet. Fandral did as well and scooped Rose into his arms.

"Come...we'll get you substance and you can tell us of the calamity that caused all this," Thor said, as they moved toward his home.

~*~

Margaret smiled, as she watched all the students proudly display their projects and parents milled through the exhibits. So far, the science fair was off to a rousing start.

"Mrs. Nolan...look what I won!" one of her freshman students called, as they hurried up to the table she was at.

"Oh...that's wonderful Heather. I'm so happy for you," she said, congratulating the girl on her blue ribbon. She was a bit of an introverted girl and Margaret had hoped to make a difference with her by pushing her to apply herself and it had definitely paid off. The girl had more confidence in herself and her grades were up. It was the very reason Margaret had always wanted to go into teaching. She had always longed to make a difference in young lives and it truly felt rewarding to be a part of something like this.

"Well...it's not hard to see why that young student is a fan of yours. The science fair is a huge success and leaps and bounds over any previous event," Dr. Jenkins praised. Margaret looked shy under the praise though.

"There are a lot of moving parts here. I am just a small part of a lot of people working together," Margaret said.

"If you say so...but I think you are far too modest, Margaret," he said and she noticed the gleam in his eyes, not for the first time. She wasn't oblivious, but had hoped there was nothing behind the doctor's praise. She was a happily married woman, after all, but he seemed reluctant to remember such.

"Wow Mom...this is great," Bobby said, as he arrived from practice.

"Thanks sweetie," she replied, as she hugged him.

"I think things are winding down though and the projects have been judged, so I'm going to go grab my things from my classroom and then we'll head home. Your dad and Summer should be home by then too," she said.

"Okay...I'm going to go say hi to some friends while I wait," he said. Dr. Jenkins watched her leave the gym to return to her classroom and the voices in his head were too much. He tried to ignore his urges, but he couldn't and was soon following her.

~*~

Killian brought the Jolly Roger into port that afternoon. They had already attracted a lot of attention and the Coastguard clearly remembered their very distinctive ship escaping their custody years ago.

Fortunately, calling Angela and Nick helped and they agreed to help them when she explained the situation and met them at the docks. They used their badges and bypassed the Coastguard authority, which didn't make them happy, and led Emma and Killian to a nearby coffee kiosk.

"Thanks for flying in from New York on such short notice," Emma said, as she sipped at her coffee.

"Thank my recent promotion, though I'm a little miffed that I had no idea your father was working for the FBI," Angela replied.

"Yeah...that's what surprises me. I mean...someone higher up has to know he's the same person from Seattle," Emma replied.

"Yeah...and her name might be Major Patricia Donovan, though I agree that there has to be someone else even above her aware of all of this. Just no idea who," Nick said, as he put the file in front of them.

"That's her," Killian said, recognizing the woman.

"Yeah...this is the woman that told us she was going to be a handler for my parents before the curse took them. She also said she killed Cecily Clayton and took over her father's operation," Emma said.

"Yes...then our memories were taken and we've been under the curse for two years until yesterday," Killian added. Angela sighed.

"Your lives are insane," she commented. Emma snorted.

"Believe me...I know. So this Major Donovan...what do you know about her?" Emma asked.

"Not a lot...she's former military and seven years ago, after the whole Seattle debacle, she forced us to release all the information about that day over to her, including the Nolan files that the FBI has on your family," Nick replied.

"Yeah and they classified it all. You have to be seriously high up to get the clearance to look at their files or anything about Seattle. The FBI has done its best to bury information about that day and the official story explains it away as a severe electrical weather event," she explained. Emma looked at her skeptically.

"And people buy that load of crap?" she asked. Nick snorted.

"I think it's easier for most. But yeah...there is a lot of conspiracy stuff out there about that day and your family too," he replied.

"Yeah...we're actually aware of some of that. My sister actually keeps up on it just to keep us informed of what they're saying and stuff. And Happy and Doc get their kicks from it," Emma commented.

"Then you know that some of those crazy conspiracy guys are pretty damn close on some of it," he said. She sighed.

"Yeah...way too damn close," she replied.

"So...my dad is working for this Major Donovan on a task force?" Emma asked.

"Apparently so...in fact, Major Donovan just made a statement about some serial type deaths at major Universities in the Boston area," she answered.

"Serial type deaths?" Killian asked.

"Your Dad is investigating drug related deaths. From what information I could glean, there's a new drug that has the FBI lab baffled. It's not like anything we know. It causes wild hallucinations and causes the victims to lose their minds in seconds. Some of the victims were even screaming about hearing voices telling them to do bad things before they died," she explained.

"Yeah...total personality change," Nick commented.

"Jekyll and Hyde," Killian muttered, as he looked at her. She sighed.

"Yeah...we know who is doing this and he probably doesn't have his memories yet, but that doesn't mean my mom isn't in serious danger," Emma said.

"That's great...but if we just walk into the Boston office with this information, Major Donovan is never going to let us in on the investigation," Angela replied.

"Then I need to find my Mom...do you know where she's working?" Emma asked.

"We ran her name. She's teaching at a high school across town. I think your brother goes there too," Nick replied.

"That's where Jekyll is then. We need to get there and if I know my dad, it won't be long until he figures him out," Emma said, as they stood up.

"You think? I mean...I heard they still have dozens of suspects," Nick replied.

"Trust me...the minute my Dad sees Jekyll or whatever name he is going by here is on that suspect list, which I assure you that he is...he'll know it's him. He'll just know," Emma assured.

"For now, let's get to that school. Snow and even Bobby could be in serious danger," Killian said.

"We'll drive you," Angela offered, as they hurried to her car...

1 note · View note

tae-kemyhand · 6 years ago

Text

Tony. (SF9 - Rowoon)

The incident of Eva Martin and Tony, the cat.

Summary: In which the mysterious garden cat is more than just that.

Characters: Rowoon of SF9 as Tony & Eva Martin (OC)

Word count: roughly 1700

Warnings: none.

Genre: comedy, romance

There is a cat who often intrudes into my garden. Nightly black with endearing white socks and striking blue eyes. He enjoys lounging on the steady branches of my apple tree, his long body resting on the rough brown bark and his legs hanging in mid-air. We do not interact. I merely observe him as he swats away at the flies and butterflies who dare to disturb his slumber. On hot summer evenings, I leave out some spring water and his crystal eyes, although expressionless most of the time, showing slight gratitude as he sips out of the white plastic bowl. I do not know the name of this cat, but I have decided to name him Tony, after a childhood pet. He is not my cat, and I am not his owner. He bears no collar and no home address. He is merely a regular visitor who often intrudes into my garden.

"Eva, thank you for lunch! See you at the office tomorrow." The echoing voice of my co-worker bounced off the walls of my empty cottage, a house which belonged to my grandparents and had been passed down to their only grandchild. It was resident of a pleasant little village located outside of the hustle and bustle of the capital but close enough to a train station that it was easy to get to work. It had two, good-sized rooms and a traditional, white tiled bathroom with a bathtub and shower. The centre of this old house, however, was the adjoined kitchen and living room whose floors were covered by large, square terracotta tiles and off-white walls, furnished with two, two-seater sofas and a mahogany coffee table all over a thick, cream woollen rug. The garden at the back of the rustic country kitchen wasn't extravagant, probably about forty square meters and accommodated a century-old apple tree that had been planted when my great-grandfather had been born. Red rose bushes grew by the western fence and dusty pink peonies at the eastern. A small patio stretched from one end to the other, and lush green grass covered the rest.

I, as the only resident of the little cottage, was entrusted with the duty of taking care of grandma's precious flowers for she- may she rest in peace- was no longer able to and my mother who lived five hours north was in no position to, either. It was a somewhat relaxing task that was taken up at the end of a long week of filing and stamping paperwork, and after tending to the buds that came at the beginning of spring, a cup of warm peppermint tea was to be had from the sprouts that grew in the herb patch. Tony would often perch on the roof of the navy and scarlet cat house I had bought impulsively while browsing the aisles of Lidl. He sat as if it were his throne and the garden was his kingdom, and I, who found his regality quite amusing, was a mere servant who cleaned his lavish palace. That was a quality I particularly admired about this mysterious cat. His manner of being still and watching life go about its business and small events unravel was a virtue that I -from what I had lived and experienced in my 27 years of life- could never conquer.

It is as I was trimming the stray and dry branches of my darling apple tree that I heard a sharp cry resounding from the rose bushes and a quick black flash dart toward the foot of my ladder. As I climbed down the worn wooden pegs, Tony cowered at the foot of the tree hissing quietly and recoiling as my hands stretched to him. His front right leg was elevated, and spots of blood stained his white sock- he had gotten a thorn stuck in his paw. I stepped back inside the house rummaging through the kitchen draws to find the first aid kit that always disappeared when I most needed it. The poor cat was still unable to move when I returned. He allowed himself to be gently picked up and placed on my lap as I sterilised the wound and prepared the tweezers to take out a rather thick thorn that had embedded itself in between the pads of his toes.

"Okay, here we go." I stroked his head lightly and held onto his paw. When the tweezers touched the thorn, there was no reaction. When it was pulled out, however, the free mitt that rested on my arm sunk its claws deep into my skin, and I jumped in pain, throwing Tony against the thick, solid trunk of the tree and with a sickening thud he flopped to the ground, as still as a mouse.

"Oh, Tony! Did I kill him? Why isn't he moving?" I clutched at the wound on my arm and watched quietly, anticipating at least the twitch of an ear to confirm that I had not murdered the only welcome visitor to my garden.

Some things in life take a turn for the unexpected, and it was on that day that I began to doubt everything I thought to be true. Right before my eyes, the glossy black fur that covered Tony's slim body became shorter and shorter by the second and his body became bigger and bigger. That which lied in front of me at that time was the naked body of a man I did not recognise; jet-black hair fell over a face with gentle features whose skin was nearly as pale as snow. And as the incomprehensible shock of this moment sunk into my mind, I became dizzy and nauseous, vision losing clarity as I fell to the grass in a faint.

▪ ▪ ▪

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The incessant ticking of the alarm clock reverberated through my bedroom as I came to my senses. It appeared to be early evening: the shadows of the setting sun and the occasional car headlights dancing and mingling on the off-white walls through the cracks of the blinds that had been nearly closed. I was still dressed in my gardening attire, but my shoes had been carelessly left outside in the dim corridor, and the doors of my wardrobe were wide open with a few t-shirts hanging from the drawers. Someone had gone rummaging in my clothes. The house was as silent as usual and peering in each room proved that there was nobody here other than myself.

"Ah, the garden!" Slipping on a pair of shoes, I opened the French doors that led to the back. Under the apple tree sat a slouching figure, soft breathing accompanied by the hidden crickets. I cautiously approached the sleeping form and crouched before him. It was the man I had seen after Tony was thrown against the tree, dressed in my clothes. Although I was slightly disturbed that this person was still on my property, I took the time to examine his face.

"Stop staring." a low voice purred, and I fell back on my bottom in surprise. Long lashes fluttered open and blue eyes peered at me hidden under the black strands of hair that rested on his forehead.

"Tony?" the stranger chuckled and waved his hand before me, a cut 2 centimeters long in between his thumb and index finger.

"Got a plaster?" I sat in disbelief, was I going crazy? There's no way Tony, the cat, somehow turned into a human. It's just impossible, this is like a dream- that's it!

"This is just a dream!" A short laugh erupted from my throat. The idea of this situation being real was too ridiculous. Cats don't turn into huma- "Ouch!" I drew my leg back as the stranger pinched my exposed ankle.

He sighed, an amused expression playing on his face, "You sure are stupid." Standing, he dusted his palms and walked past me. He took the first aid kit and picked up its contents which had been strewn on the grass from my sudden jump earlier and strolled into the house.

"Hey!" My shock had come to an end as soon as he stepped into my home. "Stop right there!" The man ignored my protests and proceeded to open the tap in the kitchen to wash his wound. "What do you think you're doing?"

He did not spare me a glance as he turned and tore away a paper towel to dry his hand, "What does it look like I'm doing?" He took some gauze from the kit and wrapped it around his hand once, then twice.

"It looks like you're trespassing on private property." I huffed. But then he turned to focus his piercing gaze on me. I shuddered involuntarily when the corner of his lips twitched into a devious smirk. He took two long steps in my direction, back hitting the counter behind me.

"I trespass all the time. You've never complained before." My nervous stare darted around his face until it fell on his brilliant, deep blue eyes. I could recognise them anywhere. His eyes flickered to a look of mischief, and a sudden revelation dawned on me. He's right; he does trespass all the time. Because he's Tony.

"You- how- what?" My baffled expression must've been hilarious because his chest vibrated in a chuckle as he took a step back. The creature I had thought of as a cat was standing before me on two legs, with two arms and two hands. A human face and a low, melodious laugh escaped his pink lips. It was then that I realised how young he looked, couldn't possibly be a day over 25, and yet there was a type of maturity to the way he stood. This being, whatever he was, was twisting my mind like a maze.

"You're not the brightest, are you?" His statement caught me by surprise, a boyish grin provoking me to retaliate. He slid his hands into the pockets of my joggers and turned on his heels toward the front door, leaving me stunned by the kitchen counter.

"Wait!" I shook myself out of the trance. My reaction wasn't fast enough, and by the time I reached the porch, the door was wide open, the fresh spring breeze invading the corridor. My eyes searched the driveway for that strange figure, but there was no Tony in sight. And as I woke up the next morning, all of the evidence of his mysterious appearance was gone, and I was left thinking that I had dreamt the entire ordeal.

#sf9 #rowoon #youngbin #inseong #jaeyoon #dawon #zuho #taeyang #hwiyoung #chani #sf9 rowoon #comedy #romance #fanfiction #sf9 fanfic #sf9 fanfiction

8 notes · View notes

dukeofriven · 6 years ago

Text

Wither Tinkerbell? Part 1: Only 90s Kids Remember (KH liveblog)

I was doing a liveblog, wasn’t I, before the last week got so crazy I barely had the energy left to smash the reblog button. What was I liveblogging again?

*squints at hand* K... ka... Kangdamn Hats? Sure, I guess. Where did we leave off?

Sora - for those who don’t remember, an idiot - surrenders to Captain Hook because Captain Hook has Tinkerbell in a lamp. That’s Tinkerbell, who Sora has had all of one(?) interaction with, if by interaction you meant ‘bystander’. Tinkerbell, whom Sora has no relationship with or reason to give a damn about. Sora, who has basically just been told where Riku has taken Kairi - his sole motivating factor for hours of this game - decides ‘Oh no not Tinkerbell of course I will surrender, even though there’s a paltry bullshit number of enemies here that I could take instantly.’

FOUR HEARTLESS AND ONE DUDE WHO IS JUST A DUDE WITH A SWORD AND A PROSTHETIC HAND WITH LIMITED FUNCTIONALITY! (”What about Smee you ask? Ha ha - Smee won’t do shit and you know it.) Sora, it must be recalled, has at this point fought an Ursula 1000 times his size, an Oogie Boogie the size of a skyscraper, Jafar imbued with ultimate cosmic power, and... some British dude with a gun riding some kind of praying mantis? (It was not clear.) But here Sora’s like: “Oh, no, these are odds I cannot face. Not with poor sweet innocent... Tanker Ball, was it?” *Deep Breath* So I got a lot of messages over the last week, most of them about my Kingdom Hearts liveblog. Some of them were really complimentary and if I forgot to thank you personally please forgive me for doing so. Some were less complimentary. Some were what I might call, mmmh, ‘ornery’ or perhaps ‘snotty’ (Some messages were critical without being shitty - I’m not talking to you). You see, I had committed the grave sin of voicing an opinion about Kingdom Hearts without having first played everything in the series - indeed, I sometimes got the impression that I had committed some sort of sin by being born not already knowing the entire legendarium of Kingdom Hearts broader mythopoetic chronicle. At the very least, I was certainly not bringing enough nostalgic childlike wonder-reverence to the table to be able to judge the game ‘fairly.’ In this praxis, Kingdom Hearts - i.e. Kingdom Hearts I the first game - is beyond linear criticism: because any possibly flaw is explained or massaged away in subsequent works, any perceived flaws in the original are something on the order of temporal hiccups, mere quirks of chronological progression and best ignored. Like the Tralfamadorians, I should absorb Kingdom Hearts only as a holistic whole: as it is ‘complete’ in the future it is complete now, for all times are one time and past and future are only the observances of lesser mortals unenlightened enough to step without time. Let me offer a counter-proposal: THIS GAME BAD THIS IS A BAD GAME THE WRITING IS BAD, UNGOOD, AND BAD THE QUALITY I WOULD ASIGN TO THE WRITING OF THIS GAME IS ‘POOR.’ ON THE BADNESS SCALE OF NOT-GOOD, IT RANKS ‘BAD.’ IF ASKED TO OFFER A EXAMPLE OF A WELL-WRITTEN GAME, THIS WOULD NOT BE THE CHOICE THAT I WOULD MAKE

This is the scene that comes next:

Sora is made to walk the plank, Hook shits himself about the presence of the crocodile and buggers off, leaving Tink with Smee the Useless One. Peter then snatches Tink from his hand. It takes all of 10 seconds, and makes the entire point of the previous ‘surrender or Tink gets it’ moment as ephemeral as it is inconsequential. This game has a problem that I am starting to call ‘tension cul-de-sac’ - it’s when a scene introduces a problem or crisis that is resolved within the same scene, sometimes within the same cutscene. Tension is not allowed to grow or develop or have any impact beyond the moment - and frequently it’s undermined further by the game’s long and awkward pauses, it’s bad eyelines, or the intractable problem of lugging Goofy’s dumb ass across an entire game and trying to pretend anything can be given dramatic weight with that fucking clown. You know what, no, that’s unfair - let’s talk about A Very Goofy Movie for a moment. I wasn’t much of a Disney kid - to be a Disney kid generally required money, which we Did Not Have. The Disney channel sure didn’t air with any of the basic packages we could only sometimes afford, and you sure as shit didn’t get it as ‘the only channel we sort of got’ when we couldn’t afford it and had to rely on the aerial (look it up, children.) So I didn’t grow up watching the Disney channel. I am pretty certain that those times we did have the basic cable package it didn’t come with it - the Disney channel only came with the super fancy package with the 200 channels for middle class people with La-Z-Boy chairs. (Guys, you should know that I am old enough to remember the day when cable came to this country and the TV went past channel 29 for the first time - it was a literal event. The whole country had free cable for the first month or so, and for a least a month before cable went live the channels aired non-stop trailers of their future content, and it was so wild that you could could scroll for channel after channel and see something other than static. I feel so old.) Anyways, I wasn’t a Disney kid. As noted earlier I had a couple Disney movies, but I was taught pretty early on what a gross and shitty company Disney is - my mother was a poor progressive who did what she could to keep me woke, and I think it also helped her blunt any enthusiasm or ill-will I might have for never being able to go to Disneyworld. If I didn’t give a damn about Disney as a brand then that was a whole lot of merch we couldn’t afford that I didn’t want. (One day I will right a big old essay about how capitalism hurts poor kids with materialism, and why Pokémon, Disney, POGs™, Crazy Bones, and a whole lot of other 90s franchises predicated on mass purchases did so much to harm my self-esteem as a kid. But that’s not today.) No, I was a Looney Tunes kid, because they were A) Actually funny and had bite without being saccharine dribble B) aired on cheap channels, and C) outside of a weird trend of Looney Tunes in Hip-Hop clothing and that brief blip that was Space Jam, not highly marketed. But I did see A Very Goofy Movie. More than once - the library probably had it. I remember having righteous indignation about that movie. Goofy, who just wanted to have fun with his son, was treated like garbage, because Max was the worst kind of eye-rolling 90s teen who did not want to give a shit about anything that wasn’t ruthlessly contemporary. This scene?

MAN FUCK YOU, MAX! His dad was trying so hard and all Max could do was be a shit. I mean sure, I got what was getting under his collar: Roxanne was sweet and cute and who wouldn’t want to take her to a dance, and Pete had the world greatest god-damn RV, and Goofy’s verbal ticks can be somewhat grating - but for fuck’s sake, Max. As someone who often felt mortified by his father (my dad was the guy who would go tell older kids off if they were being BAD and kull wahad was that squirmingly mortifying) you’d think I’d have empathized with Max more but no - even as a kid I saw Max’s in-the-moment coolness desperation for the sad peacock display it was. (CONTINUED IN PART 2)

#tinkerbell #peter pan #captain hook #smee #max goof #a very goofy movie #roxanne #kingdom hearts #sora #donald duck #goofy #dukeofriven liveblogs kingdom hearts #disney

4 notes · View notes

mysticcamiluss · 7 years ago

Text

Another Ending - Chapter I

Summary: What would have happened if you became the secretary of Ray (following Another Story's Prologue bad ending)? Would he search for another girl to fill your place to accomplish his original plan? Everlasting paradise requires some sacrifices... For you to love him and never leave him he'd have to recruit someone you cherish so you won't feel lonely with only him by your side forever; but if this plan fails again, you might hate him...

~ ~ ~

ISABELLA

Hello! Oh, well… Maybe I should introduce myself first: my name is Isabella Caggiano and I was a 20 years old student which aimed to be a fashion designer when my life turned a sudden flip, but let’s start from the very beginning: both me and my twin brother Isaiah were born in a religious middle class family. We have an older sister by 2 years, Madison, and our parents, Maria and Mariano Caggiano (yes, they were meant to be), were psychologists that worked in a small study downtown where they interviewed selected people for bigger emprises that want them to start working in there.

Everything related to my childhood sounds nice till now, right? Well, everything WAS right until a car accident that happened to occur while we all returned home after a Christmas party at our Uncle’s household (which lived in a town nearby) took away our parents lives when when were only 10 and 12 years old respectively. After that, we started living along Uncle Robert and his new wife, Dorothy, until they kick us out when Madison turned 18 since “she was capable of taking care of herself and her siblings by that age” according to them.

Putting aside the past that impacted us negatively, we were always really united; fact that made the separation even more difficult when I decided to move alone to the Capital in order to complete my grade, leaving behind my beloved siblings under the promise of returning in a couple of years.

That brings us to the very beginning: the “sudden flip”. I was sparing some time after class at a local café I used to visit almost every day while searching for some app to download when a particular one caught my attention: Mystic Messenger. The Play Store showed no description and there weren’t any comments or ratings yet, the icon of the app was all black with a golden appearance mail envelope in it.

Download initiated. 1%... 20%... 80%... Installing…

Then, the screen of my phone turned into black with green numbers and weird phrases… Coding? I did remember seeing things like that from when Madison was practicing back at home, her being an informatics student.

Unknown has entered the chatroom. You’ve got a new unread message.

“Hi! Finally, someone to talk to, thank god…” In that moment, when I first got contacted by ‘Unknown’ I even thought that maybe I downloaded some kind of malware but my antivirus would have noticed me about that so I quickly erased that option from my mind.

“Hello.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you ^^

Isabella…

I’ve been waiting for you.

Hope I didn’t surprise you.

Don’t be nervous, I’m just an ‘ordinary’ person~”

“Why r u emphasizing the word ordinary…? It’s making me even more nervous.”

“Have you ever heard of modesty? lol

In fact, I’m really excited. You’re the very first person to come!

I was so worried that no one will come in as I was making this app.”

“What’s this app for?”

“Oh, I was about to explain it to you. But, can I ask you a favor? There is something I really want you to help me with.”

“What is it?”

“Well… This app isn’t just a messenger app, it’s a messenger game app and I wanted to ask you if you could test it out for me.

You’d be able to chat with me but also with good-looking/handsome AIs.

There are also amusing hidden stories…

You just have to tell me your honest opinion ^^”

“OK! I’ll try it.”

“t h a n k y o u. I’ll call later…”

Just a half hour later or so I received a call from a private number and the mysterious person in the other side of the line introduced himself as the guy in the chatroom from before. I could only wonder: how the hell did he manage to obtain my number?!

“It’s automatically collected when you log into the chatroom. I called to explain to you about the app because I also thought that talking to you directly would be more credible.” He kept on explaining about this game where the plot is set to open a fundraising party along five characters that are part of an association called R.F.A. I thought that it sounded… kinda fun actually, maybe it could have been a good distraction anytime I felt stressed or tired from college so I happily agreed.

At that time, things started to get awkward: this person that called himself ‘Unknown’ told me that he’d need me to get over where he was in order for me to play the game by the excuse that it was protected with special data leak prevention security system and even if I downloaded the file, it’s uninstallable; so he needed to directly install it in my smartphone. Did I seemed that dumb? Heading over to a strangers hidden place? It’s not even real and I can’t bother to go there, anyway.

“For real? Then how about this? If you come here and test the game real hard, someone might be interested in you by seeing that. For example… me.”

“I don’t need it. No thanks.” I tried to be polite but this situation creeped me enough already.

“You don’t need me? Sad. I’m so sad… I really believed you were going to make my dream come true… Believed you were the one I would go to paradise with.” The guy was crying? He was acting so devastated I really wanted to help him… contacting a psychiatrist. And he started mumbling things about a so called ‘Paradise’ where he was trying to take me to, apparently.

“I don’t plan to let you go just yet.”

After that I took a deep breath, thinking it would be the last time I hear about him.

That wasn’t the end.

He kept on calling me the following days and I ignored all of those calls until I got tired after a week passed and decided to answer in order to tell him to stop harassing me. Maybe I should have called the cops, but maybe I actually was that dumb enough…

In this phone call he begged forgiveness for not calling that much, I’m not kidding.

“I’ve been thinking of you the whole day, even when I was busy. Miss you, I want to see you.” I thought this was slightly going to the wrong direction but since that moment I couldn’t stop answering anytime his number displayed in my phone screen. Why? I wonder the same thing, maybe I pitied him or maybe… I am as mad as he is.

“Were you waiting for me? I have a secret for you: I actually went to see you yesterday after hanging up. I couldn’t help myself. You’re really talented, actually… Your sketches… They’re awesome… Haha, I like the look you’re making right now. How cute. Ah… damn. Actually, I’m still watching you right now. I feel like I’m with you as I’m listen to your breath through the phone. You… want to feel me closer like I do, right?” His voice was low, almost in a seductive way… And was he… moaning? I must definitely have been crazy to have a little crush on you, stalker boy, but I don’t regret it at all. Even now, I don’t.

Two days passed and, as always, I decided to wait for his call at the café. He said he liked to keep an eye on me from some meters apart so I thought that maybe, if I pay enough attention, I could finally discover who ‘Unknown’ was.

That would have happened in a fantasy world.

Being as tired as I was after class and because of an important exam I had today, I couldn’t afford to close an eye the whole night, I fell asleep while waiting.

“I’m so glad you’ve wait for me, princess. Poor thing, why don’t we go together? Live happily in paradise… Come with me. You and I, let’s start over. Just the two of us. And play a somewhat… interesting game too. Heh, I don’t think I can let you go after meeting you in person so I’m going to use you as my assistant, he has one too, right? Anyway, I’m still taking you even if you say no… Come, now…”

#fanfic #mysticmessenger #reader #mysme saeran #mm saeran #saeran choi #saeran route #maincharacter #luciel choi #saeyoung choi #mm saeyoung #saeyoung x mc #saeran x reader

1 note · View note

helshades · 8 years ago

Note

Good morning, my love! I wondered your thoughts on whether Le Pens would succeed in the election or not? As well as how likely a Frexit would be should she win? And maybe a little curious where all the worldbuilding is, too, *sobs*

A most excellent (although slightly terribly belated) evening to you, my dear! I answer you from the pit of the Helcave, through litres of sno... tears, in this dire hour of ailment, because I have way too tardied already, caught as I was amidst my new crepe paper flower project and the various ills that befall the imprudent cave-dweller; as the Queen of the Undead (by interim) I do command many foul things, but not the viruses, apparently.

Anyway, you sobbing, me sneezing, ‘tis not advancing the worldbuilding terribly, is it? Yeah. Thing is, I miss it too, but it seems the dry spell has got something to do with the horrid lack of new material, for such a long time. While I know I’ve more than enough to go with old notes and three movies as presently, I’d like MOAR and most of all, I’d like a rejuvenated fandom: from my corner of the Interwebz, it had become gradually impossible to work amongst the collective cries for overzealous social justice—“Loki is secretly intersex!” “Stop assigning Groot a gender!” “Why is Star-Lord white?” etc.—and the depletion of our ranks, as exemplified by one notable correspondent who went utterly fruitcake after I disagreed with her on the topic of Jane Foster being written as autistic.

In fewer words, I’m always welcoming prompts, even though I’m approximatively 5,238 ones late, but the engine is due to start running smoothly again as soon as we get a trailer for Ragnarök, or set pictures, or ANYTHING—I, for one, would love to get creative about the system of government in Asgard and how there should be a popular revolution anytime soon, shortly followed, preferably, by Loki getting thrown overboard the blooming planet by an angry mob with the Asgardian version of a pitchfork (probably golden anyhow).

Speaking of usurping tarts forming a terrible basis for government, hey, do you know the best news from Frogland ever? We don’t have to worry only about Marine Le Pen getting her grubby hands over the country! Now, with added psychological torment, enter the right wing’s champion, François Fillon! Here, a good illustration of our current main source of anguish:

Note that the true exploit behind this photo-montage wasn’t to mash up good ol’ Maggie and Tête de Fion, rather to find a photograph of him smiling in the first place. In fact, I’m pretty sure that was Photoshopped—unless a paparazzo caught him right after his early morning flagellation and got him to snicker with a cry of “À mort la Sécu !”

How to better state my thoughts... Well, let’s say that it’s not only the resistible rise of fascism in Europe we should care about, but also the considerably more pregnant and irresistible rise of Angela Merkel-friendly Ordoliberalism and the blatant annihilation of over a hundred years of hard-won social struggles. More than ever, the Right intends to rob us of healthcare, labour protection and free (quality) education—the worst thing being that most of the self-proclaimed Left wants exactly the same thing, albeit on a longer term, perhaps, but that’s about it. Yesterday, we got the results of the Primary election for the Left parties—we have primaries too, now, go figure—and the two finalists are going to be Benoît Hamon (theoretically a leftist, rather on the green sides on several accounts, did confess to great admiration for Bernie Sanders) and Manuel Valls, the only recently-resigned Prime Minister, a man whose hatred of unions was strikingly palpable, and who, a mere months ago, violated all democratic principles to force an unjust labour law on the French people. If he ends up the Left’s main man, the 2017 presidential election is going to be a real blast, and the proverbial choice between Charybdis and Scylla, the sequel, now with Scylla’s long-lost little sister Manuel.

I almost remarked that if Le Pen got elected, at least maybe we’d get something good out of it when she charts Valls back off to Spain, but upon reflection, I dare say the Spanish have suffered quite enough from authoritarianism, plus I guess it would be a poor consolation indeed. Still, I wonder: could Marine Le Pen truly become France’s very own President Trump...? In reality, I suppose she could, but a lot of people who would hesitate before voting for someone who hasn’t totally succeeded in wiping out the memory of her father yet (and quite right, too) won’t bat an eyelid before rushing to the voting booth in the name of François Fillon. Especially old money and the Catholic ultras, but that can’t be all, alas.

And while we’re on the subject of European evils, I don’t really believe in the extreme right version of a Frexit. Yes, I know the nationalists and pals aren’t too warm-hearted when it comes to European regulation, but liberalism isn’t exactly incompatible with fascism, either. I would even dare suggesting that liberalism, especially the current economic model, rapidly spiralling to deregulation and a profound dehumanisation of the peoples which nourish it, encourages the rise of fascism as it drives social classes further apart, disarming the lower ones and freeing the upper ones of any guilt...

Quoting well-known left-oriented philosopher & economist Frédéric Lordon:

‘Here is the question underlying this libellous accusation: wouldn’t leaving the European Union condemn us to sovereignist regression? There is a lot to say, here: first, I don’t regard either “sovereignist” or “sovereignism” as swearwords, unless you would belittle the idea itself—which is the ultimate modern idea. And let me be clear: I don’t say modern the way the journalist stooges of liberalism use “modern” and “archaic” every few editorial; I say modern in the historic sense, as “modernity” is a period which started in the 16th century, and which stated that peoples should not be ruled by commandments issued from any cloud-borne god, or by his Earth-bound delegates—and that the peoples had to take their own fates in hand. This is what sovereignty is about, conceptually. That one would seek to disqualify such idea says a great lot about the anti-democratic principles of the European institutions, and of all those supporting them.’

‘Besides, leaving the Eurozone doesn’t have to condemn you to the shrivelled, regressive, nationalistic and identitarian version of sovereignty—indeed, the latter is entirely possible. But we do not have to choose such regression, because nothing actually prevents us, if we so decide to abandon single currency, from developing as much as we can all relations between peoples, and for good this time. Although not, this time around, by throwing them onto and against one another because of murderous economic policies. What would stop us, out of the Euro, to do the exact same thing we once did before we got the Euro? Meaning international programmes for industrial cooperation (like Airbus, or Ariane Espace), scientific cooperation, and other things aplenty? Do we really need the straitjacket of a single currency for students to travel, for scientists to travel, for artistic exchanges to take place, as well as transversal teaching programmes on national histories and the making of a European history, for developing the translation of the literatures of Europe...? Nothing actually prevents it. It says a lot about the colonisation accomplished by neoliberal obsessions that we are now only capable of thinking that the only possible internationalism has to be this of capital and single currency.’

‘To want to relinquish the Euro doesn’t have to do with monetary fetishism. It’s not about going crazy over mere currency. What we call the Euro is much more than money, banknotes and monetary politics: the Euro is a global institutional system for economic policies. This is what we should abandon completely. In order to change the E.U. “from the inside”, we would have to see organised progressive political forces come into power simultaneously in a great number of member countries. The probability to see an actual government on the radical left is already infinitesimal, so the hypothesis of 6 or 7 at the same time is very nearly ridiculous. The Central Bank or Europe has the power, totally illegitimate, totally implicit, but totally efficient, to bring down any government that would attempt to oppose any of the European treaties...’

The current, and soon-to-be-former, government has done some work, too, to encourage most people in believing that Frexit = fascism, all the while slashing social protection and beating the occasional striker to a pulp, when the genuine article has been making vibrant spiels on poverty and labour, overall nicking a lot of arguments... from the radical left. The paradox isn’t one: both extremes join on populist propaganda, therefore the extreme right had a lot to gain from borrowing facts and ideas from the far left then grind them in its own rhetoric.

‘Labour, under the arbitrary management of the capitalist regime, is odious; people know this because they’re living it, and because they are many more still to be living it. Middle classes used to give zero fuck about the ill treatments inflected to the working class, for the first two decades of the neoliberal system. Now, unfortunately, the level of the muddy waters is rising, and all suffer.’

Sincerely, if Marine Le Pen became the Présidente this May, I’m not too sure the promised referendum on a possible Frexit would get positive results, and lead to the actual Frexit, even if it’s a UKIP-friendly kind of Frexit. People seem mostly afraid of leaving the E.U., although mostly because they keep being told it’s not possible and they shall lose everything and hordes of cutlass-chewing commies are to surge into their very homes to read some Karl Marx to their children. Also, unlike the Brits, we’ve actually got Euro coins to dispose of, you know, and it will be costly.

#answers #nonnies #atchoo!

5 notes · View notes

365footballorg-blog · 6 years ago

Text

LAFC's Adama Diomande talks life off the field, before and since MLS move

USA Today Sports Images

July 13, 20184:16PM EDT

LOS ANGELES – In a league that seems more stocked every week by young talent, worth watching, from every corner of the world, how much of a surprise is it that a 28-year-old Oslo-born former Stabaek striker has captured a great deal of Major League Soccer’s recent attention?

No, the player in question is not the LA Galaxy’s winter signing — three-year MLS veteran Ola Kamara — but his countryman Adama Diomande, a relative unknown when he made his MLS debut for LAFC a mere seven weeks ago.

Dio’s performances ever since have sent stat crunchers across the league slamming digits into calculators, desperate to find a numerical explanation for his stunning start.

The start is remarkable – nine goals in seven league appearances – but what has contributed to getting Diomande to the place he’s in right now?

When MLSsoccer.com sat down with Dio ahead of his team’s match on Sunday against the Portland Timbers (6 pm ET | ESPN – Full TV & Streaming Info), though, another number came up in conversation.

1251.

“That’s my neighborhood,” Dio said proudly, when asked about the sequence he has worn on his shin guards during matches.

It was in this working-class section of Oslo that young Dio — whose parents came to Norway from Paris after leaving their homeland of Ivory Coast — grew up amongst other immigrant families from places as divergent as Nigeria and Cuba, Gambia and Pakistan, India and the USA, as well as a number of South American countries.

“You learn from them, their culture, how they act,” he said of growing up in this kind of environment. Dio further explained life in the 1251 in an excellent interview with LAFC’s Gevrina Catalina for YouTube TV.

“When we were young, we just played in a small area of the pitch, eight against eight, seven against seven, six against six, we were always pushing each other and fighting.”

Like most immigrant neighborhoods the world over, Dio doesn’t shy away from calling his sliver of Oslo “rough,” and he didn’t survive his childhood there with football alone. His father brought his precious djembes — traditional West African drums — with him to Norway and music played a major role in his upbringing, especially once his older brother introduced him to other styles.

“I grew up with hip-hop,” Dio said. “Where I’m from, everyone listened to hip-hop.”

His dad didn’t mind the hip-hop beats filling the house as the boys grew up, though he’d lobby for Michael Jackson when he could. As he delved deeper in the genre, Dio remembers one artist standing out, not just for him, but for the entire neighborhood.

“My whole community, we grew up with Tupac [Shakur],” he said, adding that his favorite record by the late rap legend was double-album “All Eyez On Me.”

That Dio is now able to blast Pac out of his speakers during his commute from his home in Pasadena to LAFC training and matches at Banc of California stadium is only one of several reasons the striker is loving life in Los Angeles off the field as much as on it.

“My family is very happy here,” says Dio, whose wife gave birth to the couple’s second child not long after the move from Hull City. “That’s very positive for me to not worry about.”

That mood swing has been a major one. During his three years in the England’s northeast, the Diomande family struggled as much to find happiness off the field as the player did on it — something he points out matters a lot more than footballers sometimes let on.

“I feel like if you don’t have fun outside the field, you don’t get it on the field too,” Dio said. “You think too much. I don’t want to say it’s a weakness but if I don’t have fun outside of football, then I will be depressed all the time.”

The weather in Hull, and the city itself, didn’t really jive with Diomande the way the Los Angeles sun and international vibe has — even if his exploration of the city has been limited in the wake of work and the joy of a newborn baby.

“I enjoy it every time I see the weather,” he said. “I’m always smiling when I wake up. You see the sun, of course you’re smiling.”

The last time he felt this good about life off the field was when he still played near the comforts of home at Stabaek — where he was under Bob Bradley’s tutelage — scoring and creating goals for fun, just as he is now.

While the reunion with Bradley both drew him to LAFC and has helped him find his form since he’s arrived, what the striker appreciates most about the coach is the relationship the two share, essentially an extension of the straightforward, hard-working values he grew up with in the 1251.

“He’s just honest,” Dio said of Bradley, someone he’s spent the weeks since arriving in MLS complimenting. “I’ve been with a lot of managers but he’s just honest to everyone. If you’re not good enough or don’t do the right thing, he says it straight in your face. He’s not going around you and [talking about it]. He’s just straightforward and I’m a straightforward guy too. If I don’t feel something is right, I’m telling you straight in your face. It’s not about being scared, it’s about showing respect.”

Dio speaks about Bradley the way he does about his friends from growing up, a circle he still maintains. In fact, it was with two of those same friends — a Moroccan and a Somalian — that Dio first visited L.A. several years ago, having no idea then that he would one day return to play.

“I grew up with everything from USA,” Dio explained. “I always watched American TV, ‘Fresh Prince,’ and Martin Lawrence. I’m very into comedy.”

Despite that, he shrugs off the implication that this love of American culture drew him to MLS or that it was a predetermined destination.

“I just felt it was the right moment,” he said. “Best city in the USA, I think. Why not try it? I had other options but coming here with Bob, just feeling like linking up with him again was a nice idea so why not?”

Despite the lulls he’s had in his career in Belarusian and English leagues, Dio is a man of faith and was confident that when the right opportunity came, he could capitalize — not that he’s letting any of the early success get to his head.

“I’m a Muslim and I always pray five times a day,” he says. “My religion always teaches me to be humble. I don’t care if you’re rich, poor, don’t have anything. You always have to treat everyone the same and I always want to give back to the community.”

Being so new to Los Angeles, that local community currently mostly consists of his home and his locker room.

“I’ve been with a lot of different teammates and I feel this locker room is one of the best I’ve been in since I left Stabaek, when I was with Bob too,” he said, giving credit to his coach for filling it with the right kind of players. “He knows the people he’s bringing in too. You have to be a good guy too, it’s not only with your feet.”

To that end, the striker hopes to help guide his teammates off the pitch as well as on it.

“I’m one of the oldest people [in the locker room],” Dio said. “I want them to develop and teach them things they haven’t been through yet and I’m just happy to show my bright side and positive side of me and help them to grow.”

So, to keep the numbers straight, the man from the 1251, bumping an album from 1996, has supporters in LAFC’s 3252 going crazy in 2018.

“Right now, I just feel great. I’m 28. I’m in my prime now and I just make the best out of things when I am here.”

<!–

Stay connected: Get access to breaking news, videos, and analysis from North America’s best soccer reporters via “This Week in MLS” newsletter or using our FREE mobile app.

–>

Stay connected: The all-new, completely redesigned, FREE official MLS app is your best mobile source for scores, news, analysis and highlights. Download: App Store | Google Play

#block-block-188 {padding:0;} #stay-connected {border-top:1px solid #ebebeb;margin:20px 0;} #stay-connected p {margin:0;color:#4d4d4d;line-height:1.5em;} @media screen and (max-width: 730px) { #stay-connected {padding:8px 6px 0 6px;width:100%;} } @media screen and (min-width: 731px) and (max-width: 1120px) { #stay-connected {padding:8px 6px 0 6px;width:100%;} } @media screen and (min-width: 1121px) { #stay-connected {padding:8px 6px 0 6px;width:708px;} }

MLSsoccer.com News

LAFC's Adama Diomande talks life off the field, before and since MLS move was originally published on 365 Football

#Adama #before #Diomande #Field #LAFC&039s #Life #move #Since #talks

0 notes

courage-a-word-of-justice · 7 years ago

Text

Girls’ Last Tour 1 - 2 | Juuni Taisen 4 - 5 | Ancient Magus’ Bride 2 - 3 | Idolish7 1 - 2

The only one I’ve properly kept up with out of my 5 shows this season is Juuni Taisen, so I’m going to roll out the tag for that show first. Also, the Idolish7 first two episodes became free recently so I cover them here too.

Girls’ Last Tour 1

Pipes…grunge…hey, doesn’t this look familiar? *glares at Princess Principal*

I’ve only seen one episode of Made in Abyss but I get a bad feeling about these character designs…

I’m worried about this falling into the Yuri Divide. Sure,the fandom can do what it wants, but please don’t ship the lolis.

Oh right. Wind, meaning there’s an opening somewhere.

That dramatic eye opening made the outside world seem like an anticlimax. C’mon, show. You can do better than that.

I feel like Chito says “shut up” a lot, even though she’s only said it twice. I get how she’s kind of relatable, but this show’s not on the level of MMO Junkie or even Juuni Taisen. It’s just kinda…average.

Did Tangled ever teach you how to use a pan, Yuu?

Everything’s kinda WWI-esque. It’s kinda unsettling for a person who’s never properly seen war.

Even in this snowy world, you could still learn to hunt and cook, right?

If you kill your friend in a post-apocalyptic world, you’ll be lonely by war. Don’t kill each other, kiddos. Lives are precious.

This is serious, kiddos! C’mon!

Eating snow is meant to quench your thirst, but it’s not any good for hunger. Apparently.

Well, I’m quite lukewarm on this. I’ve already found my seasonal hits and I study globalisation, so it’s no surprise I find this stuff a lot like my weekly content. Nonetheless, whoever decided to put Classicaloid behind a paywall’s gonna have to pay (pun not intended)!

Girls’ Last Tour 2

I half expect a “hey you!” joke but they don’t work in Japanese…

What are the wiggly things on the ground next to Chi and Yuu in the OP??? Leeches???

Oh geez. Now they even draw cleavage on the lolis. Meaning these guys are just drawn young. That’s both a good and a bad thing.

Those letters seem to be…no language in particular.

Book burning. What a thing to throw in.

Oh. The blocky writing is actually hiragana or katakana. You just need to look at it closely.

I think that was meant to be comedy…but it was so cruel. Poor book.

I think what they’re saying is “don’t burn history”, but I think we learnt that a long time ago when the Chinese burnt books.

Maybe if these gals had Bear Grylls they’d survive a bit longer…?

Lemme guess: either Yuu burnt them all, destroyed them all or read them all.

The original joke was gomen wa, where ne is similar to wa. At least, I think it’s a wa. It could be a re.

The red circle said Yuu wrote the me wrong, so it’s actually probably gonun ne.

Well, someone funded a sakuga ending. Like the one from ACCA with dancing Lotta.

Juuni Taisen 4

I find it heavily symbolic that Nezumi likes eating eggs. Eggs represents chickens…and conundrums…

Ooh…bam. Nisio Isin’s going the Middle Eastern proxy route.

Hmm. Interesting, it’s basically Bystander Effect: the War.

The anime’s currently ahead of the manga, so I got slightly startled by Boar’s appearance. However, I’ve read some spoilers elsewhere, so I knew she was going to be in Monkey’s story somewhere else. I just didn’t think it was this soon.

Recycled footage…bad show! Bad!

LOL, CGI tank. Sorry for ruining the mood, but that stood out a bit too much for my liking.

“…participation is mandatory…” – Huh. I never saw that detail coming.

“Ow. I thought you were against violence.” – (LOL.) Yeah, but apathy isn’t good when something’s coming to get you in the sewers, so I’m with Monkey on this.

Wa-wait! Y’mean, Rabbit can use Chicken to use Eye of the Cormorant…so Monkey will die this ep??? [Monkey dying]’s exactly what I’ve been fearing for the duration of this episode. Update: If you want the spoiler version from the end of the ep…she didn’t die.

Notice Monkey uses moves that use the strength of her opponent against her. It’s a very pacifist touch, so to speak.

There are a series of images that flash by before the casual clothes part of the ED. If you observe them closely, you’ll see a lot of them involve the number 12. (Example: the cubes have lines on them that read “12”.)

LOL, I think I only just now spotted the bodyguard behind Boar. He’s hard to spot behind all the splatter.

Home boy and his T-bars make me laugh every time. Then of course, there’s Mr Floofy Jacket.

Oh, it’s Duodecuple who’s doing these next ep previews. I couldn’t figure out who it was last time I tried.

Juuni Taisen 5

Genius, with a capital letter? They keep calling him the Genius of Slaughter in his backstory, so I guess that’s where it’s from.

A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing is the same in Japanese as it is English, so at least the pun is there.

LOL, this episode is pretty much all “stuff goes kaboom!”, and that’s pretty much the way of the Sheep. Haha.

Of mice and men, eh??? (I read enough spoilers to know who the victor is…but I don’t know how they win.)

Whoa, yeah, baby! Bring that action! (That happens to be exactly the way I imagine my own action stories – from the front seat, so to speak.)

The snake’s winking! So cute! I want me some plushies like those!

Old-Timer. Haha, great pun on so many, many levels.

Ancient Magus’ Bride 2

I started doing a productivity blog and got caught up in it so much, I neglected anime! Imagine that – me, neglecting anime!

Oh, there’s a little “open” sign near the door.

It’s anime Hogwarts! Only the train is more colorful…LOL. (Actually, Little Witch Academia is anime Hogwarts, so scratch that.)

Ooh, Elias has a good taste in faces. Not that I’m complaining or anything. (Looks like En-chan, to boot.)

Elias is like the NEET genius of the magic world here. It’s kinda funny.

What’s a Gem’s Bee? (No spoilers, I’m not a manga reader!)

Angelica’s like her (Chise’s) mother, LOL. Seeing Elias properly emote is hilarious, hilarious! (Why I procrastinated on this show? Because it’s a slow mover that should be appreciated in its own time, but I’m not good with binging so…that’s why I’m only watching it now.)

Oh! No wonder Angelica seems like a mother. She is a mother.

Ooh! Ice flowers. Pretty. I’ve already gotten way too many screenshots for my own good out of this show…As a writer, I feel like I could never make a story like this.This is a story best fostered under someone else’s hand.

Poppies, eh? To me, poppies symbolise war and sticking out, but that’s just a product of where I was born. In the case of war, poppies represent the blood of the fallen and those who rise above that.

Speaking of stories I couldn’t write, I’m currently bringing Next to Me to a close. I feel like that’s my best match to AMB, which is why my thoughts dwell on stories so much right now. Next to Me is one of those stories where the world matters just as much as the character building, if not more, which is why the understated majesty of AMB is a good match.

Seeing a blonde Englishman use –kun like a Japanese is a bit disorienting.

Simon really treats Chise like a child, eh?

The “open” sign now says “close”. What is this house, an apothecary?

The CGI door was a bit weird…

Whoa! That was a bit of a fast approach into the dragon scene, but apparently the dragon part of AMB was really hyped…

Ancient Magus’ Bride 3

How does skelly-man see like that?

The dragons look like…Pokémon! (That was my first thought, LOL.)

This blonde is Lindel from the promo material I’ve read. He looks like zaShunina (Kado), so it’s best to be wary of him.

Ooh, now there’s an application of shadows I’d never be able to think of!

Holy flame spirits, Batman! Elias has a tongue! (I got spoilered on that by ANN, but it’s crazy seeing it in context.)

Ancient mages shouldn’t be hot like zaShunina! Where are the real old fogeys like Kiku(hiko, SGRS)?

Uncle Nevin! I found it extremely charming this uil has a name beyond “Uil”.

Can these dragons read minds? Or is it just the power of Dragon Knowledge (TM)?

When they say “Anime saved my life”, I guess they never meant it this literally…or at least, Chise never meant it this literally.

That dragon has way too many eyes!!! Yipes.

Huh. I haven’t felt this feeling since SGRS. The feeling of a masterpiece on my eyeballs.

羽鳥チセ <- That’s how you write Chise’s name, so they did another “Western creature uses Japanese knowledge” thing…

D’aww. That was beautiful! No wonder people like it, now I like it too. Nothing short of majestic, guys, nothing short of majestic.

Hey, the guy who voiced Nevin is called Ryuuzaburo. Ryuu means dragon in this case. (Meta pun!)

Idolish 7 1

Crunchyroll really tried to hype this thing up! Wow. So, here I am at what could pretty much be called a premiere event of the simulcast commentary. Enjoy, friends.

By the way, I’ve tried a bit of the Idolish 7 game (but since it was on BlueStacks, I couldn’t do the “rhythm” part of the rhythm game very well and subsequently couldn’t get too far) and of course, there’s a vested interest through Shirai, Masuda and Nishiyama. Update: There’s no Nishiyama in sight. Sorry, guys.

Oh wow. This is exactly as I remember it in the game, right down to the word!

Yay! I was looking forward to seeing the basketball scene adapted, since it’s possibly the only scene I got to experience in the game in its (Japanese) entirety. Bring the dang game to the Western world, Bandai!

Riku is such a pure cinnamon bun when he gets the basketball back.

LOL, Nagi is such a flirt, kyaa~ (semi-sarcastic).

I don’t remember them dropping Trigger’s name so early…geesh, my memory must be sketchier than I thought it was.

Just as a reference, Iori (black) is 17 while Riku (red) is 18.

Ooh, I just spotted a Trigger ad on one building during that cut.

Ooh, good sense of drama these guys have got going.

Idolish 7 2

Expressiveness for a grump like Yamato, LOL.

LOL, there’s a shark in the back…

Iori has a cat shirt, hahaha.

Cool and sharp…stationery? Like a compass?

Iori’s so sarcastic, I can’t tell f he’s ever being serious or not.

I don’t know who’s my favourite so far out of these i7 boys. Probably the one similar to my husbando, Tamaki.

Ahh, gotta love me a good, honest hardworking anime gal. You don’t see them very often, y’know. It’s refreshing.

That was a great Iori impression Mitsuki did, even visually (note: I didn’t listen to Mitsuki do the impression, I only read the subs…hence my comment). Troyca really captured the style of the game, to boot, which is another cherry on the cake.

Notice Iori stands in front of the D.C. (da capo) and leaves to reveal it.

I researched who Riku’s brother is while I was watching ep 1 and…(spoilers for the uninitiated!) the brother is Tenn of Trigger!

There was a soba ad in the back in one lingering shot…

Hey, I get the feeling there’s CGI involved in this dance segment, but it’s…hardly detectable! Amazing! These guys seem to have gone a long way since the horribly animated Monster Generation MV.

Notice they (Troyca) only use CGI in (mostly) shots which don’t involve closeups.

Of course Nagi winks in the middle of his performance…

Whoo, yeah. That was a bold move by Crunchyroll, and of course that would grab me more than just leaking the first ep. I wonder if any critics covered this on their blogs…? Or would it not matter, since critics wouldn’t cover this “uncritical slop” anyway? Nonetheless, I covered it, and that’s what matters! (Update: Yeah, all the critics – Frog-kun, Lauren in Space, Mage in a Barrel etc. - passed on it. As expected of those critics…)

#simulcast commentary #girls' last tour #ancient magus bride #juuni taisen #zodiac war #idolish7 #shoujo shuumatsu ryokou #Chesarka watches Juuni Taisen #mahoutsukai no yome #Chesarka watches MahoYome #Chesarka watches Shoujo Shuumatsu Ryokou #Chesarka watches Idolish7

0 notes

dwestfieldblog · 7 years ago

Text

THE BEAUTIFUL AND THE WEIRD

But which is witch? It gets so hard to tell...but Love does not switch off, it turns on. So, drown this world in astral fire and cling to the wreckage floating...Welcome again to How I Cheated Death for 2000 Years... 'Perhaps we should kiss and break the tension.' as Homer Simpson said...to Plato. Or Pluto in Hades tomorrow. (Most of this was completed on Friday 20th October, under the influence of night air and music on headphones.)

But all dimensions rejoice, my 3 cds are done...'These songs make me glad I am deaf, I only wish that I were blind also' said Beethoven yesterday, via the astral plane... But another critic writes; 'These songs are better looking than a multi-dimensional parallelogram woman'; said Picasso, three days before a sideways yesterday. Of course I have already done five songs for the next cd, still alive and I need to play and sing before my left eye shades over and my liver explodes. The devil does indeed make work for idol hands. Yes, that's a bad pun. Catch 23. There is no such thing as failure, there is only giving up. I do not give up. WILL not.

Some strange times recently like a time shift around me and a slip into a slightly different dimension which is running parallel to where I was. A disorientated balance which quickly re-adjusted itself (into an accepting understanding) but left the feeling of being on or in another channel. A curving parallel synchronicity like two dolphins in the ocean, tango dancers, eternal twists of D.N.A...or just bloody Laurel and Hardy. Time might kiss and tell...or just rape the flesh of its youth.

God is always watching (too scared to join in) and is said to move in mysterious ways...me too after half a bottle of whisky but that's no excuse for bad behaviour. Jehovah'sVoyeurs...The devil is always listening, so be interesting at least...'The gods and angels of magic are described by the science of the mind as archetypes, while demons have been converted into neuroses.' Or 'Symbols reveal by concealing and conceal by revealing'. G.Gurvitch

Two weeks ago, I gave some of my students the homework 'Describe Beauty'...that which elevates you, connects your highest self and overthrows your lowest. They all mentioned Nature, babies. Imagine Love.And all it means and how it feels. How you perceive it to be. How it transforms you. Where it takes you. EVOLVES you. Try this at home on a daily basis, stay calm, don't be alarmed. Smiley face time.

Meanwhile once again, far, far away from love...Sock puppets on-line writing inflammatory comments dictated by master manipulators with vested interests in power and money, being read by the gullible looking for others to blame for their own lack of energy (transferring guilt) and projecting themselves onto leaders they believe speak for them. Thus wept Zarathrustra. And around and around we go in an increasingly vicious circle with an ever decreasingspiral of possibilities until something disintegrates beneath the pressure.The normal world, '2017'.

Zuckerberg claiming that Facebook had no Russian propaganda connections during the U.S election...now proved to be absolute bullshit lies. And this guy has designs on a future White House? Wonderful news for the world if we ever get there. President Z should have been Zappa. And Trump, dear Donald, still trying to 'drain the swamp', one tweet at at time...and wondering why he is up to his arse in alligators...

Twitter for twats has expanded the amount of possible characters from140 to a stunning 280. Let the bells (which toll for thee) resound in a deadly, mean, meaningless celebration. More poison freely available across the ethernet. Duck Fart has an extra...errr, (wait a moment for my cognitive processes to do the mathematics)...140 extra letters to use for utter stinking excrement with which to fertilize his realm of truly lost souls. Live like scum, die like scum you disgusting moronic reptile. Cursed for three generations. I woke up in a good mood this morning, yes I did.

Various elections and 'power' shifts taking place, but...'In Capitalism, man exploits man, in Socialism, its exactly the opposite'. Ben Tucker. HA.

I can remember the night before I turned ten years old, writing in a little book, 'For the rest of my life I will have two numbers' and feeling miserable about it, (poor little thing) now I look forward to having 3. Death/wisdom or both simultaneously. They can take my life but they'll never take my freedom. Etc. Drawing down the moon straight into the heart...and...away we go...you were born Ready.

All religion, magick and spiritual disciplines are attempts to bring together, (in Latin -religare -to bind) reconnect, re-establish a link, a bridge between hemispheres of the brain, man within the woman, the female enfolding the male, to become whole, the marriage of the opposites, god and the devil within, Yoga, from the Sanskrit root 'yuj'...meaning to join, a Harmonic resonance causing phase transition if you will. Will, Go deeper... Self-remembering leads to self reprogramming, erasing learned imprints and replacing them with a new circuitry. 'All forms of purposive activity invoke a higher 'I'. That 'I' will take 'you' over when allowed...and there is the legendary guardian angel, another part of yourself.

EVOLUTION IS INEVITABLE..

Altogether now...Left brain...Active Yang for language and reason. ON. Aware of the passing of time. Right brain...Passive Yin for feeling and intuition. OFF. No sense of time. Anima is the female element in the male unconsciousness. Animus is the male in the female. Every ancient story and creation myth (like Plato's legend of the Gods cutting man in two) is an attempt to explain the polarisation of energies. Every mystic religion is a form of discipline to reconnect the one with the other and then combine with the whole. (Or so I choose to believe and I am just crazy enough to believe my own discoveries.) The horizon comes to you because it is already within. How to make new friends and influence yourself.

(Aha, just read today '....awareness that society is everywhere in conspiracy against intelligence'. Schroedinger's Cat, (R.A.W.) Always wonderful to find that someone vastly more clever and better humoured than I, agrees with me. Makes it all almost worth the while.) I think a lot, (way too much) and it is a pity that I am fairly stoopid because my thoughts could actually be useful occasionally. What serves better, is instinct. (When in doubt, blow the thinking OUT.) Logic is ridiculous in the face of eternity. That's why people on various drugs laugh so much

'Every great discovery had been the breaking of a taboo'.

'When you're ugly and somebody loves you, you know they love you for who you are. Beautiful people never know who to trust.'

The following sentence was in last month's blog, but it came from a useful dream of mine and I like it, whether or not it makes 'sense'...so here it is again....Creation was caused by focused thought form radiations of ahigher oscillating force upon binary possibility waves...This is more or less, (or much more than) what magick seems to be. A discipline of focus, cause and effect...and everyone can do this in their own forms and fashion, every chord, stroke of the brush, every recipe, secret invention, improvisation on the spur of the moment, every executed plan. Every thought form directed, every cosmic joke, every intuition realised, every kiss which dissolves Ego, every spiked lightning and shiver of orgasm, every channelled catharsis creating reality around you, drawing circumstances towards you. But be Very aware of the power of the subconscious, it works both ways.

As someone evolved might have said; 'When you need to shit, shit.' Anal retentives have a hard time ascending their internal heaps. Process and release, do a finger painting in your own blood if you have to. When dealing with yourself , honesty is always the best policy. White people seem to have it quite bad and English folk all the worse. Once again, everyone has an Ego problem because they have an Ego. (Or something.) And remove the insecure mask of self delusional vanities, some folk were born mediocre but the 'average' can always become more...although that takes focus and the majority are always lazy. They have been trained to be.

Acquiring knowledge is also a matter of losing useless parts of your thinking in tandem with ingesting fascinating teachings. The teacher comes when ready. (HA.) And many, many times, the teacher becomes yourself. You, on another level, reorientating yourself, a helping hand further on. Much depends on trust and most humans learned to be natural manipulators as babies, adults merely refine the negatives. Lessons are everywhere and take thousands of forms, too much to know but One to Be.

I remember reading many years ago of someone asking Buddha if he was a saviour, to which he replied 'I am not'. 'Are you an angel?' No. 'What are you?' The realised man replied; 'I am awake'. And there it was and here it is. At the same time. Almost all of us including myself, are deeply asleep. Somnambulists on a treadmill of daily routine...too busy busy busy with basic survival (and being kept so by the powers that seem to be) to evolve and clamber amoeba like out of the ocean onto land) (F......g terrible mixed metaphor but you get the idea) and as that temporarily French programme from the Matrix said; 'If we do not make time, then 'ow can we take the time?'

Still love the part where he says how much he enjoys the French language because it is the best to curse in; 'It's like wiping your arse with silk'. Wonderful writing. HUMOUR. Ahhh, Sing Swan Song by Can....Melt. She is the mother of Everything and you are her egg...afterglowing...

Shelter, embrace, eat you, drink you consume you, renew you, over and over, higher and higher and OUT. A glorious and total sanity to the very sweetest end.

And as for the 'Here and Now'...This quote from The Tibetan Book of the Dead, could not be much clearer... 'This Truth is that there is no reality behind any of the phenomena of the Bardo plane, save the illusions stored up in one's own mind as accretions from sangsaric experiences. Recognition of this automatically gives Liberation'.

Saw some graffiti yesterday in large letters on the side of a block of grim flats in Prague, translates as; 'YOU CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT UTOPIA'. The definition of Utopia is? Drugs in concrete boxes? A fake temporary connection with an illusory higher self? All addictions weaken. He says, now slurping whisky, eating a chocolate biscuit and smoking a cigarette. (See, how a man can multi task with total focus, arf) Never said I was perfect. Not even my mother would claim that.

The age of reason was the death of love. The Aeon of Chaos will see its rebirth. Where does all this nonsense come from? I just watch my fingers moving. Don't think. Switch off by choice and dive into the flowing rivers of trance and Blah. Very rarely I am I arrogant enough to believe that any of this waffle is being channelled. Only sometimes.

Harm none and do what you Will. HAPPY HALLOWEEN, jump on a broomstick and Know YourSelf, with Love, D.

0 notes

robertmcangusgroup · 7 years ago

Text

The Daily Thistle

The Daily Thistle – News From Scotland

Sunday 16th July 2017

"Madainn Mhath” …Fellow Scot, I hope the day brings joy to you…. From a sweltering hot Estepona on the Costa del Sol early on a Sunday morning., hot winds from Africa drove the heat up yesterday and it hardly seems to have changed all night… My Friend Bella and I walked this morning with cartoon tongues hanging from our mouths and after water Bella has collapsed on the floor at my feet laying in the path of the breeze from a large fan I have blowing … and I have coffee, go figure!.. but having been a coffee in the morning drinker for most of my life, it’s a habit that I enjoy whatever the weather, and you know that.. and since the medical world told that coffee in moderation is good for you, so I don’t intend to give it up just yet..

NORMANDY LANDINGS VETERAN AWARDED FRANCE'S HIGHEST HONOUR…. A veteran of the Normandy landings has been awarded France's highest honour for his role in helping to liberate the country from German occupation. Irvine Rae, 93, was due to be presented with the National Order of the Legion of Honour at Edinburgh Castle in January with nine other men who took part in the D-Day landings in France. However, the Fife veteran was unable to attend due to a broken hip. So, the French Consulate rearranged a special presentation ceremony for him. He received the honour at Leuchars military base in Fife on Thursday. Emmanuel Cocher, the French consul general in Scotland, presented Mr Rae with the award. Mr Rae, who lives in Tayport, said: "Despite what I did in France in the Royal Engineers, I still can't quite understand why I'm getting this - to me it was just normal work in the course of military service for my country. "Of course, I'm very pleased about it - it's a wonderful gift and a great honour." Mr Rae was called up in 1942 at the age of 18, when he was an apprentice lithographer with John Avery Printers in Aberdeen, and was assigned to the Royal Engineers. He joined 514 Field Survey Company, 15 Map Reproduction Section. In the lead-up to Operation Overlord, he was involved in survey planning, production of every map likely to be required in northern France, organisation and preparation of equipment and the planning and training for their landing. On June 7 1944, D Day +1, aged 20, Sgt Rae sailed from Portsmouth with three men as his section's advance party on board HMS Glenroy, carrying all their maps and equipment.

OBAMA TARTAN OFFICIALLY REGISTERED IN EDINBURGH…. The Obama tartan specially commissioned for the former US president's recent visit to Edinburgh has been officially registered in the capital. Barack Obama was gifted a kilt and a pair of trousers in his new family tartan when he attended a charity fund-raising dinner at the EICC in May. It has navy blue to represent the flag of Hawaii where the 44th, and first African-American, president was born. Green from the Kenyan flag, where his father was born, has also been used. Sky blue and white are taken from the flag of Chicago where Mr Obama lives and works. Tartan designer Brian Halley of Glasgow-based Slanj Kilts, who was asked to design the special tartan, said he had been "sworn to secrecy" over the project. He told BBC Scotland: "When I received the email asking me if I could make a tartan quickly, and who it was for, I felt very excited and honoured. "I don't think there is a more famous man and I think he has the second most Twitter followers in the world, so it was very exciting. "I was sworn to secrecy at the time, it was all very hush-hush. "Apparently, he loves the tartan and said he would wear the trousers rather than the kilt as he thinks his legs are too thin. "I don't think his legs are too thin, anyone can wear a kilt." Now that Mr Obama has officially registered the tartan under his name, he has the rights to it. The charity fund-raising dinner raised £670,000 for charities taking part in the Kiltwalk campaign including the Maggie's Centres and Glasgow's Beatson Clinic.

FORMER SNP COUNCILLOR TO STAND TRIAL ON 'ABUSIVE TEXTS' CHARGE…. A former Dundee SNP councillor will stand trial accused of sending "threatening and abusive" text messages to a Muslim activist. Craig Melville is alleged to have sent the messages to Nadia El-Nakla, who works as a parliamentary assistant, the day after the Paris terror attacks. Mr Melville was suspended by the SNP and resigned as a councillor when the allegations came to light. He denies the charge and will stand trial in October. Mr Melville, 36, entered a not guilty plea at Dundee Sheriff Court through his solicitors. Court documents state that Mr Melville faces a charge of behaving in a threatening and abusive manner towards Ms El-Nakla between 13 November and 15 November 2015. Prosecutors allege he behaved in a way "likely to cause a reasonable person fear and alarm" by sending a series of messages that "contained threatening, abusive and derogatory remarks regarding Muslims". The charge is alleged to have been aggravated by religious prejudice. Sheriff George Way set a trial for 18 October and ordered Mr Melville to attend a pre-trial hearing in September.

EMERGENCY BEACON THAT TRIGGERED HOY SOUND SEARCH FOUND IN SHED…. An emergency beacon which triggered a full-scale search and rescue operation off the coast of Orkney has been found in a shed. The RNLI said the Stromness and Longhope lifeboats were called out to Hoy Sound at about 04:20 after the beacon was triggered. Rescue teams from Kirkwall, Hoy and Stromness were also involved in the search, which took several hours. The device was finally discovered in a shed in Stromness and deactivated. HM Coastguard said there was no malicious intent.

TEACHERS 'PROVIDE FOOD' FOR POOR PUPILS…. Teachers are personally providing food and funding school uniforms for children living in poverty, according to a survey. The survey of Educational Institute of Scotland (EIS) members found 51% said they or colleagues had taken steps to help less-affluent pupils. Many teachers said they had given pupils spending money for school trips and fairs. And 60% said they had seen an increase in the number of pupils in poverty. Other findings in the report included: 53% of respondents reported seeing a rise in pupils coming to school with little or no food, snacks or money 72% noted an increase in those without basic stationery, school-bags and PE equipment 77% observed increased signs of poverty-related mental health issues 46% said more pupils were unable to complete homework that required computer access at home Andrea Bradley, EIS assistant secretary for education and equality, said: "The results clearly underline that low-income poverty significantly blights the day-to-day educational experiences of the 260,000 children and young people now living in poverty in Scotland. "To the EIS, it is an outrage that over a quarter of the country's school-aged young people whose families are struggling on low income are prevented from benefiting, on an equal footing to the rest of their peers, from the many opportunities offered by the education system. "Urgent and decisive action at all levels of government is essential to prevent further damage. Children's education and life chances cannot continue to be sacrificed in the name of austerity." She welcomed additional funding for schools from the Scottish government but said it was "against a backdrop of successive years of under-funding of comprehensive education, which must be addressed".

On that note I will say that I hope you have enjoyed the news from Scotland today,

Our look at Scotland today is of the Scottish Exhibition Centre by the Clyde, Glasgow, Scotland.

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Sunday 16th July 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming Jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in

Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus

0 notes