#the idea of that being what's left of rose ... this poster that without context

[r0setyler]

thinking about how the memory tardis had one piece of rose in it, her missing poster, and how that is representative of rose's narrative, she's missing... there are pieces of all the other doctors, of yaz, of river, but rose's thing isn't the jacket donna found, isn't some sort of actual rose, but is literally just her missing poster, because even to the memory tardis, to the doctor, she is missing. where is she? have you seen rose tyler?

[dunnswrld]

Also I have this idea in my head that bam with famous rockstar girlfriend started with him being literally a massive massive fan of you, and Johnny and Jeff decide to fly you out to come on set of one of the jackass movies and surprise bam and they explain his massive obsession with you and they have him walk in to the room with you sitting on the sofa waiting and he goes BRIGHT red in the face and stutters and starts shaking and tries to run away but turns around and runs right in to Ryan like an embarrassed flustered baby. They’d definitely record it for the movie too and put it in as one of those out of context transition scenes and never explain any further about it until you and bam step out and announce you’re dating

omg…

ryan was the one who came up with this idea FOR SURE. he was absolutely sick and tired about hearing about how your bams big celebrity crush.

when he brought the idea of surprising the local fanboy with you to johnny and jeff they immediately said yes because they also were sick of bam talking about how hot you were. but what shocked the three boys was when you emailed jeff back surprisingly fast and said you’d love to come and suprise him and that you were in LA for a show that weekend!

when saturday finally rolls around and your there on set, without bam knowing, they set him down in a chair behind a black curtain. they told the poor boy that he was going to do a short interview for 2.5 with ryan since they were filming 2 at the time.

but the interview took a turn when bam was asked about you, an loud groan coming from ryan that blocked out a laugh he was holding in.

“so bam tell me about Yn.”

“god dude where do i even start? she’s totally a rockstar, her music is great! not to mention she’s probably the hottest girl on earth but ryan wont admit that she is hot cause he thinks i talk about her to much.”

“you talk about her all the time you even have like five posters of her in your room.”

“yeah who doesn’t want a hot girl on their wall?”

“anyway… bam what would you tell her if she was here right now?”

“oh well.. maybe that she’s a total hottie and her music is great.”

“oh wow thank you mr margera.”

bam practically spun himself out of his chair when he heard your voice, you were stepping out from behind the black curtain as bam quickly rose to his feet with the brightest cheeks possible.

he would start trying to form sentences but they all came out as word vomits or nothing at all. he tried to leave the small room but completely embarrassed himself by crashing face-first into ryan’s chest.

by then everyone including you is laughing at bam as he tries to get out of the room by the door that is locked, now standing in horror as his face feels hotter than hell itself.

“bam i thought you wanted to tell her that she was a hottie and her musics great!” - johnny.

you would end up walking over to him at the door and giving him a hug while laughing, he would stiffly hug you back as he sweat bullets realizing that you were actually hugging him.

“loosen up margera! i don’t bite!”

“god i’m so sorry for saying that.”

all you did was laugh and tell him you appreciated it honestly, bam seemed to relax at least a little after that. but he still didnt have the courage to flirt with you so of course you took the wheel. which left bam a flustered mess.

after the interview with you, you gave bam your number and told him to call you later so you can gove him free tickets for your show that night. but when you left he was not only smiling ear-to-ear but also was freaking out and begging jeff not to put that in the movie.

jeff being jeff didn’t listen quite and put the scene of you walking from behind the curtain in the end credits of the movie which was confusing to many. but when you and bam were seen at a award show together being pretty touchy feelt everyone was able to put the pieces together on what happened.

[thewertsearch]

>Dave: Check the latest page of the Midnight Crew.

I saw he had the poster. I guess since Dave is a fan of the in-universe answer to Homestuck, he's the in-universe answer to a typical Homestuck fan in 2009.

"You push against the MANHOLE COVER, but it seems some unbelievable jackass has parked your GETAWAY VAN on top of it.

Damn. Sucks being Lairtrapped, doesn’t it? 

Honestly, I’m just impressed they're all still alive. You have no idea how much I want to jump ahead 500 pages in this comic, just to see what out-of-context horseshit is going down.

Ooh, it’s a Rose-Dave convo. 333 pages in, and we’ve finally reached our first conversation in the comic that doesn't include John.

TG: dudes be worshipping me left and right TG: i cant hardly walk down the street without stepping over torsos of the prostrate TT: Navigating the urban landscape I'm sure is difficult enough without an obstacle course of deferential flesh and skyward asses. TT: Perhaps adapting the art of parkour to your unique environment would help? TG: yeah!

Rose's elegant loquaciousness is perfectly suited to the weapons-grade sarcasm she's dropping here, and Dave's rambling compliments it perfectly. It’s cute, you can tell they've been friends for a while.

TG: oh for fucks sake TG: youre just lobbying for me to play that dumb game TT: Baseless accusation!

She wants to game with her friends so much 😭😭 You gotta love Rose.

There’s a fun double meaning to this one. Yeah, on the surface, our storytelling is starting to get nonlinear, but I also haven't forgotten about the Vagabond's causality-breaking terminal. Time is starting to get a little frayed at the edges here...

Ready for your first random encounter, Egbert? Better rev up that hammer.

[flowerfan2]

One Night in Milwaukee - Chapter 3

David x Patrick, 10k so far, read on A03

Summary:  Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough.  Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

Chapter 3

David says goodnight with a quick peck to Patrick’s cheek, and shuts himself in the hall bathroom, ostensibly to shower before bed.  But before that he spends a while leaning his palms against the sink and taking slow, deep breaths in and out, trying to steady himself.

It’s been one of the most uncomfortable days of his life, and given his life, that’s really saying something.  Within the past twenty-four hours he told Patrick he still loved him, Patrick said that he wanted them to be together, and a crowd of sleep-deprived strangers in the Milwaukee airport security line cheered as they kissed.  Since then, David has felt like he has been walking a tightrope, waiting for his balance to fail him and send him crashing to the ground.

David knows that he can’t expect their relationship to snap back together like a puzzle, connected and perfect like it shines in his memory, at least not without some awkwardness along the way.  And Patrick is injured and hurting, understandably not at his best.  Even with all that, though, he can’t shake the feeling that something else is wrong.

He sits on the closed toilet and checks his phone.  This afternoon he finally texted Alexis to tell her that he was in Florida with Patrick, which, not surprisingly, resulted in a flurry of messages.  He really wants to talk to her and hear her voice, but the house isn’t that big and he doesn’t want Patrick to overhear him voice all his insecurities.  Maybe he’ll call her when he goes out for a run tomorrow morning.

Alexis has apparently told his parents, who have sent both encouraging (his dad) and vaguely foreboding (his mom) well wishes. David sends back polite responses, not wanting to get into a detailed back and forth with either of them.  Then he spends a few minutes sending instructions to his assistant purchaser at the motel group, and emails the director of operations to let him know that he’ll be taking a week off.  It’s not as if he can’t work remotely, but he’d like to have the freedom to spend the time with Patrick, and he’s got plenty of vacation time saved up.  At least taking care of this item on his mental list quiets his work-related anxiety for the time being.

Just a little while ago, sitting on the couch with Patrick, David had tried to raise the topic of exactly what they would be doing here in Clint and Marcy’s little retirement fantasy home, but Patrick had rebuffed his attempt.  David doesn’t even know if Patrick has a job.  Patrick only stayed in Schitt’s Creek for a few months after their break-up, and David’s pretty sure he took a consulting gig after that, but Stevie was light on the details.

As he thinks of Stevie, David’s fingers automatically find her name on his phone, and he considers filling her in, but he’s not sure how she’ll take it.  His break-up with Patrick had caused a rift in his relationship with Stevie, one David has never been able to fully repair.  Because of Stevie’s role in the motel group they kept working together, but they were never as close again as they used to be.

Stevie stayed in touch with Patrick, at least for a while, but they don’t talk about him.  David didn’t press; he wasn’t entitled to know more.  He plays out in his head Stevie’s likely reaction to the news of their reunion, and given all that he still doesn’t know about what’s going to happen, he decides not to contact her yet.  He’d like to talk to Patrick about it first.  He’d like to talk to Patrick about a lot of things.  

David absolutely doesn’t mind spending time taking care of Patrick, like he did today.  In another context, he would cherish it, being able to show the love of his life how much he cares.  He knows Patrick is in pain, and not just from his wounds.  It makes David physically ill to imagine what happened to him.  He hopes Patrick is able to share more details with him sometime soon; he shouldn’t have to bear it alone.

David tries not to believe that Patrick’s distance today was some kind of test – he doesn’t think it was. Intentional or not, though, something is definitely off.  

More than anything, David wants to reestablish their old connection.  He felt it a few times, sparking across the distance like electricity, but mostly Patrick hadn’t seemed open to letting him in.  They had been more in tune sitting in the darkened food court at the airport than they were on the couch this evening.

David sighs and stands up, opening the bathroom cabinets and poking around to see what kind of products the Brewers have on hand.  He’s pleasantly surprised to see the Rose Apothecary label on the shampoo and conditioner, body milk and cleanser.  While the newer items aren’t quite the same quality as the originals he and Patrick had first sourced (quality gave way a little bit to quantity, and price), they are still products David is proud to have his name on.

David spends a long time in the shower, which does make him feel marginally better.  He towels off his hair, leaving styling to the morning, and scoots into the bedroom he’s staying in.  He hasn’t unpacked yet, so he opens his suitcase up on the floor and finds clean boxer briefs.  Unfortunately, the rest of his clothes really need to be laundered; he had thought he’d be back in Toronto yesterday evening, not on a spur of the moment trip to the land of sunshine and tourists.

He frowns as he pulls on a wrinkled black t-shirt and soft gray sleep pants.  Regardless of what else happens tomorrow, he’s going to have to do his laundry.

The air conditioning comes on with an annoying whir, and David looks around, spotting a vent in the ceiling. The noise doesn’t bode well for getting any sleep tonight, although there’s nothing wrong with the rest of the room.  While ostensibly Patrick’s, the bedroom has very few personal items in it, maybe in case the Brewers decided to rent out the house.  The bureau drawers are mostly empty except for swim trunks and some sweatshirts, and the closet contains one windbreaker, two pairs of sneakers, and a vacuum cleaner.

There’s a fluffy white duvet on the bed, with a seafoam green sheet and matching pillowcases peeking out underneath.  Not a very Patrick color-scheme.  Marcy must have been going for some kind of Florida feel.  David feels lucky the whole place isn’t covered in a Hawaiian flower print, although that would probably be more practical than white if they anticipate having strangers using their linens.  The whole concept of renting out one’s home makes David cringe, although it’s no worse than living in a motel.

David climbs under the blanket and top sheet and closes his eyes.  He makes himself stay there as the air conditioning cycles on and off two more times, and then gives up.

The house is quiet as David wanders around, taking a closer look at the rooms he saw earlier today.  There are a few framed photographs on the desk in the office.  The one of Patrick seems to be relatively recent, him and his dad outdoors.  Patrick’s smiling, but he doesn’t look happy.  There aren’t any of David and Patrick together, for obvious and yet still painful reasons.  

David wonders what happened to all their mementos from Patrick’s apartment – the posters from Cabaret and the Apothecary’s open mic night, the ticket from the ropes course that they stuck on the refrigerator with a magnet.  It would be nice to think that they are still boxed up safe somewhere, not tossed in the dumpster behind Bob’s Garage.

The open plan kitchen and living room is nice enough, and the couch is comfortable, covered in a safe tan twill with throw pillows in shades of white and blue.  David draws the curtains open and looks out through the sliding glass doors to the back yard with its screened-in pool and lanai.

With a shudder, David reminds himself that the screens are to keep the alligators out.  David knows this because he read it online this afternoon, waiting for Patrick to wake up from his nap.  When David told Patrick he would brave the alligators for him, David imagined that this was only a theoretical danger, or perhaps one to be encountered on a wildlife tour of some kind, not one he would have to face every time he left the house to get the mail.

David messes around with the light switches by the door, and finds one that turns on a spotlight under the water in the pool.  It’s pretty, lighting up the water and bathing the back yard in a gentle glow.

“It’s a little chilly for a swim,” Patrick says behind him, making him jump.  The wall-to-wall carpet is thick, and apparently Patrick hasn’t lost his ability to sneak up on David.

“Oh god, sorry, did I wake you?”  Maybe flashing the lights wasn’t such a smart idea.

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”  Patrick turns his face up towards David, and David is convinced that he’s going to kiss him, his heart racing in eager anticipation.  But Patrick’s face shifts into sadness, and he looks away.

“Patrick?”  David reaches out and touches his fingers to Patrick’s bare arm.  “What’s wrong?”  He doesn’t say “besides the obvious,” because he can tell that it really isn’t necessary.  And he thinks Patrick wouldn’t have come out here if he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever he’s been holding back.

“I have to tell you something,” Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest and then, noticing, deliberately uncrossing them.  

“Okay…”

Patrick bites his lip.  “I’m afraid to say it.”

David feels a shiver run through him.  “You’re afraid?”

“Yeah.”  Patrick looks defeated.

“Why?”

Patrick shakes his head and turns away from David, leaning on the back of an armchair.  “Because you’ll leave.  And I don’t want you to go.”

David closes his eyes and tilts his head back.  “Obviously I don’t want me to go either, Patrick.  That’s why I’m here.”  He tugs at Patrick’s shoulder, turning him so he can see his face.  “I promise I won’t go anywhere.  But if you take much longer to tell me, we may well have a panic attack situation here on top of everything else, and I’d really rather not add that to today’s list of events.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and David just wants to take him in his arms and tell him everything will be all right.  But it’s clear that Patrick can’t be so easily convinced, and frankly, until David knows what the hell is going on, David isn’t so sure himself.

Patrick moves to the couch, and David follows him, sitting on the coffee table and putting his hands on Patrick’s knees.

“I didn’t cheat,” Patrick says, and David frowns.

“I know that now.  You said so yesterday. I believe you.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Patrick says again, “but I think Mark wanted me to.  He was flirting with me, and I didn’t stop him.”

“You’re cute.  People flirt with you, there’s not much you can do about it.”

Patrick looks at him briefly and then away.  “I could have not flirted back.”

David digs around in his head for the right thing to say, but all of the sex-positive, trusting relationship language he comes up with sounds hollow in the context of Patrick’s guilt-laden confession.

“Well, um, harmless flirting isn’t a big deal.  It’s nice to feel wanted,” he tries.

“David.  It wasn’t harmless.”

“What do you mean?”

Patrick peels David’s hands off his knees and takes them in his own.  “It wasn’t harmless because it hurt you.  It hurt us.”

“But if I had known you didn’t mean anything by it-”

“That’s just it, you didn’t know.  Because I didn’t tell you.  I wouldn’t have felt so guilty about it if there was nothing wrong with it.  I wouldn’t have worked so hard to hide it.  At the same time we were planning our wedding, I was creating an opportunity to let another man flirt with me.  I knew if you met Mark you’d suspect something.  I told him to come to the store for training when I knew you’d be out visiting vendors.”

Patrick’s practically babbling now, his words tumbling out.  It’s so unlike Patrick’s usual calm demeanor, it makes what he’s saying even more unsettling.

David struggles to find an angle where Patrick’s behavior is okay.  He’s done it before, made excuses for partners who toed or crossed the line, but he doesn’t know how to do it with Patrick.  He slowly pulls his hands out of Patrick’s and stands up, stepping backwards with a hand over his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Patrick says.  “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.  Just give me a minute.”  David feels ill, but he knows there has to be a way through this.  His mind is spinning, but he’s not leaving, he’s not, he’s going to figure this out.  “Were you planning on – doing anything with him?”

There’s a moment when David thinks Patrick is going to say yes, yes, I wanted him to kiss me, but then Patrick is in front of him, his face open and vulnerable.  “No, absolutely not.”

“Were you having some kind of… naughty cheating fantasy?”

“No,” Patrick says firmly.  “You remember the Ken incident.  I didn’t want anyone else.  Then or now.”

“And yet…”

“I know,” Patrick says, reaching out to wrap his hands gently over David’s biceps.  “I can’t explain it.”

They stand there in the dark kitchen, both of them breathing heavily.  Patrick slides his arms around David and pulls him in, until David’s head is resting on his shoulder.  David lets Patrick hold him, comforted by his touch even now.  

“I’m so sorry, David.  I thought about it so many times, after you left.  I convinced myself that I didn’t cheat – and I didn’t, not physically.  But what I did wasn’t <i>right,</i> either.  It felt wrong to me, and you picked up on that, and that’s why you thought I was cheating.”

“But what you said in the airport-” David’s voice catches, and he has to stop and suck in a breath.  “You made it seem like it was all my fault.”

“That was not my proudest moment.”  

David forces himself to straighten up and step away from Patrick, wrapping his arms around his own body. Patrick holds his gaze, tears streaking his cheeks.  Patrick lied to him – maybe not three years ago, when David didn’t give him a chance to explain, but just last night, in the airport.  <i>But he’s telling the truth now,</i> David thinks.  He’s put all his cards on the table, and he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop - for David to leave.  To give up on them.

But the thing is, David doesn’t want to drop the shoe.  He doesn’t want this to be the end.  He’s not done with Patrick – he tried that, and it was the worst decision he ever made.

Patrick isn’t just another one of David’s exes.  He’s not someone who was willing to take and take from David and never give in return.  David simply can’t believe that of Patrick.  It’s not who he is.  Patrick gave David everything.

“If when I confronted you that day, back at the store, I had let you explain,” David says carefully, “we’d essentially be right here, wouldn’t we?”  

Patrick’s eyes widen, and he nods.  “Well, not in Florida, but, yeah.  More or less.”

“So…” David closes his eyes and lets himself feel, the pain and the hope and the love, all whirling around in his chest.  “If that’s the case,” he opens his eyes and reaches for Patrick, his hands landing on his shoulders, “then we can just start from here, minus the overreacting, and figure it out.”

Patrick chokes out a wet laugh.  “We can?”

“I think so.  I’d like that.”  David watches Patrick’s eyes as they light up.

“David, I’d really like that too.”

David leans in, cupping his hand around Patrick’s head and bringing him close for a tear-stained kiss.  David’s not sure that the odds are great for them this time around, but if there’s any chance at all, David’s going to take it.

[hufflly-puffs]

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Chapter 13: The Muggle-Born Registration Commission

“‘Ah, well. It’s only a matter of time,’ said Thicknesse. ‘If you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn.’” – First of all, the term ‘Mudblood’ has now become acceptable. The Minister of Magic uses it in public, a word that a few years ago was generally seen as an incredible hurtful insult. Second, we know that Thicknesse is under the Imperius Curse and that me wonder how exactly that Curse works. Do you only cast it once, do you have to renew the Curse? I guess that depends on the victim and how strong their will is to fight back. How precise do the instructions have to be? I mean Thicknesse isn’t just forced to do a single action but instead to completely change the Ministry policy. How much of the old Thicknesse is still there? Did he already agree with many of the ideas of the Death Eaters, which would have made him an easier target? Controlling the Minster and at large the entire Ministry is a really complex task, especially in the way Lupin described: that people would get suspicious of the new Ministry policy, but not enough to openly rebel against it.

“Panic pulsed in the pit of his stomach. As he passed gleaming wooden door after gleaming wooden door, each bearing a small plaque with the owner’s name and occupation upon it, the might of the Ministry, its complexity, its impenetrability, seemed to force themselves upon him so that the plan he had been carefully concocting with Ron and Hermione over the past four weeks seemed laughably childish. They had concentrated all their efforts on getting inside without being detected: they had not given a moment’s thought to what they would do if they were forced to separate.” – They are completely underprepared and they lack the resources to get more prepared. Not just by infiltrating the Ministry but with their entire plan to hunt down Horcruxes and destroy them. It was simply a chance of luck that they found out who R.A.B. is (they could have hide anywhere else than Grimmauld Place) or that Umbridge would be wearing the locket instead of keeping at safe at home for example. There are still just three teenagers, not even fully educated, stumbling into this, not knowing what they do, leaving a mess everywhere. Thanks Dumbledore.

“They were all waving and twiddling their wands in unison, and squares of coloured paper were flying in every direction like little pink kites. After a few seconds, Harry realised that there was a rhythm to the proceedings, that the papers all formed the same pattern, and after a few more seconds he realised that what he was watching was the creation of pamphlets, that the paper squares were pages, which when assembled, folded and magicked into place, fell into neat stacks beside each witch or wizard.” – It was at an episode of the ‘Witch Please’ podcast (I think this one) where they had wondered why the Ministry would make every single pamphlet individually instead of using a printing press or something like that. It seems like an incredible dull repetitive work, so perhaps it is meant as a punishment and degradation to those doing it.

“MUDBLOODS and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society Beneath the title was a picture of a red rose, with a simpering face in the middle of its petals, being strangled by a green weed with fangs and a scowl.” – Again, the term ‘Mublood’ is used, this time on an official Ministry pamphlet, which therefore makes it socially acceptable now to use it everywhere. Also the red rose of course is a symbol for England, so subtextually the new regime in the Wizarding World is associated with nationalism. Which kinda makes sense given that it resembles every fascist regime ever known.

“The witch glanced towards the shining mahogany door facing the space full of pamphlet-makers; Harry looked too, and rage reared in him like a snake. Where there might have been a peephole on a Muggle front door, a large, round eye with a bright blue iris had been set into the wood; an eye that was shockingly familiar to anybody who had known Alastor Moody.” – Using body parts of defeated enemies (or rather their victims) is – what a surprise – also a thing Nazis did. It displays a complete lack of empathy and respect for the deceased. Also, I wonder how exactly the eye works. Apparently it does not need access to a body in order to work; the way Harry describes it later it almost works like a peephole. Of course we don’t know if the magical eye had completely replaced Mad Eye’s natural eye or if enough of it was still left to use the new eye as reinforcement.

“‘Undesirable Number One,’ Harry muttered under his breath as he replaced Mr Weasley’s folder and shut the drawer. He had an idea he knew who that was, and sure enough, as he straightened up and glanced around the office for fresh hiding places, he saw a poster of himself on the wall, with the words UNDESIRABLE NO. 1 emblazoned across his chest. A little pink note was stuck to it, with a picture of a kitten in the corner. Harry moved across to read it and saw that Umbridge had written ‘To be punished’.” – That little note makes the whole thing so ridiculous, as if they were still at Hogwarts and Umbridge would still be fighting her own little vendetta against Harry, instead of Harry becoming a public enemy, with a death sentence hanging over his head.

“Harry opened the book at random and saw a full-page photograph of two teenage boys, both laughing immoderately with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Dumbledore, now with elbow-length hair, had grown a tiny, wispy beard that recalled the one on Krum’s chin that had so annoyed Ron. The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore had a gleeful, wild look about him. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders. Harry wondered whether it was a young Doge, but before he could check the caption, the door of the office opened.” – I think this moment works great by comparison to the moment when Harry had found the photo of the Marauders in Sirius’s old room. Back then he knew all the people in the photograph, he knew what would later happen to them, how one would betray the others. He knew the context. But at the same time he had wondered if he had projected something in this photograph because of his knowledge. This time Harry does not know who the second person in the photograph is, the relationship between the two men, ect. He is lacking context. He only sees two friends, without knowing what will happen to them in the future, only a single moment captured in time.

Arthur Weasley confronting (who he assumes is) Runcorn is less brave and much more recklessly stupidity. He knows that his family is being watched, that despite being a pure-blood he is not safe, as he (and his family) are considered to be blood traitors. On top of that he is also in the Order and it is known how close the Weasley family is to Harry Potter. And yet Arthur confronts a very powerful member of the Ministry, a man that we know shows little to no mercy to people this new regime considers not worthy enough. Sometimes it is the best to say nothing at all, despite your anger, in order to keep yourself (and your loved ones) safe. Choose your battles.

“He did it instinctively, without any sort of plan, because he hated the sight of her walking alone into the dungeon: as the door began to swing closed, he slipped into the courtroom behind her.” – I mean it is kinda your fault that her husband isn’t with her today. But this is also who Harry is; deciding on instinct alone, doing something because it is the right thing to do, without a detailed plan.

“At the foot of the platform a bright silver, long-haired cat prowled up and down, up and down, and Harry realised that it was there to protect the prosecutors from the despair that emanated from the Dementors: that was for the accused to feel, not the accusers.” – This is such a cruel display of power. The accused are there to defend themselves, to fight for their lives, and yet they are surrounded by Dementors, as if they are already found guilty, with every kind of hope and strength drained from them. I sincerely doubt that any of the accused leaves this court room as a free man or woman; this is nothing more than a show trial, to demonstrate the absolute power the Ministry has over these people.

“The Patronus, he was sure, was Umbridge’s, and it glowed brightly because she was so happy here, in her element, upholding the twisted laws she had helped to write.” – And this is the reason why Umbridge is the best villain in the series to me, the most frightening, not Voldemort. Voldemort is abstract, almost like a comic book villain. Umbridge though is very real; everyone knows someone like Umbridge. She does not care about ideologies, she only cares about power, and she does everything to abuse said power. She is a sadist through and through, feeding on the despair of others.

“‘I’m behind you,’ he whispered into Hermione’s ear. As he had expected, she jumped so violently she nearly overturned the bottle of ink with which she was supposed to be recording the interview, but both Umbridge and Yaxley were concentrating upon Mrs Cattermole, and this went unnoticed.” – One of the differences between Harry and Hermione is that Hermione hates to do anything unprepared. She always needs to know as much as she can before entering a new situation. Harry is much better as her at improvising and adjusting to new situation. He thinks quick and makes decisions in the heat of the moment, without thinking about the consequences. He needed to learn that skill in order to survive. In the middle of a fight you don’t have the time to analyse the situation and figure out what to do next. You act on instinct. Which is why Harry in this moment is much calmer than Hermione.

“‘T – took?’ sobbed Mrs Cattermole. ‘I didn’t t – take it from anybody. I b – bought it when I was eleven years old. It – it – it – chose me.’” – In this book we learn quite a few things about wandlore and especially the ownership of a wand. We also learn how special the relationship between a wizard/witch and their wand is – the wand becomes a part of them, without it (or when they forced to use a different wand) they feel incomplete. What Mary Cattermole describes here is such an essential part in every wizard/witch’s life – the moment you get your wand, the wand that chooses you, to make it your own. And Umbridge (and the Ministry) takes this moment away, abuses it and reframes it, to fit their own propaganda.

“‘Expec – expecto patronum,’ said Hermione. Nothing happened. ‘It’s the only spell she ever has trouble with,’ Harry told a completely bemused Mrs Cattermole. ‘Bit unfortunate, really … come on, Hermione …’” – We know of two spells that Harry is particularly good at that Ron and Hermione aren’t. Harry is able to fight of the Imperius Curse and he was able to produce a Patronus at a very young age. Both requires a strong will. However I think the reason why Hermione has trouble doing the Patronus Charm is because she is the most emotional of the three. She cries easily and she constantly puts herself under pressure. Even though Hermione has not lived through the same horrors as Harry the Dementors influence her more. Harry has through all the trauma he has experienced built up resilience. And after all this is only the second time Hermione encounters Dementors (the first time she fainted).

“Hermione’s Patronus vanished with a pop as she turned a horror-struck face to Harry. ‘Harry, if we’re trapped here –!’ ‘We won’t be if we move fast,’ said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him. ‘Who’s got wands?’ About half of them raised their hands. ‘OK, all of you who haven’t got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We’ll need to be fast – before they stop us. Come on.’” – Again we see how different Hermione and Harry react in an unknown situation. Hermione panics – her Patronus vanishes because she can no longer concentrate. Harry on the other hand immediately seizes the initiative and takes over a leader role and gives commands, making sure everyone is safe. He has all the qualities that will make him later a great Auror.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon is the poster child for everything wrong with post-Reagan anti-trust enforcement

Last January, a 28-year-old law student named Lina Khan published a 24,000-word article in the Yale Law Journal unpicking a half-century's shifts in anti-trust law in America, using Amazon as a poster child for how something had gone very, very wrong -- and, unexpectedly, this law student's longread on one of the most technical and abstract areas of law has become the centerpiece of a raging debate in law and economics circles.

The article is called Amazon's Antitrust Paradox, and you should read it, because Khan is a sprightly and gifted writer with a talent for squeezing some exciting and relevant juice out of dry and abstract subjects.

At its heart is a critique of the neoliberal "Chicago School" and its new orthodoxy about when monopolies are a problem -- an orthodoxy that is at odds with much of the world and hundreds of years' worth of US lawmaking and enforcement.

The Chicago School is notorious for its emphasis on profits ahead of all else, its complicity in tens of thousands of death-squad executions in Chile, its influence on Thatcher, Reagan and their contemporaries in their belief that "there is no such thing as society" and "greed is good" -- the belief that behaving as selfishly as possible will make everyone richer and happier.

It's this school and its adherents that John Kenneth Galbraith was speaking of when he called economics "the search for a superior moral justification for selfishness." As you might imagine, if you owe your fortune to selfishness, ruthlessness and greed, you might want to fund and elevate this kind of exercise. Nothing confers empirical respectability to manifestly immoral behavior like a lot of inscrutable mathematics that purportedly shows the self-perfecting nature of a system of greedy, "rational" actors.

The Chicago School holds that monopolies are only bad when they result in higher prices ("price theory") and that everything else -- the "structuralist" worry about rich people amassing political power, or making inferior goods, or screwing their workforce, or holding back innovation -- is just a distraction.

This model rose to prominence in the 1980s with Reaganomics, and it coincided with catastrophic collapse in small business in America(especially minority-owned businesses); since Reagan, Republicans and Democrats alike have been enthusiastic proponents of the idea that the only thing a competition watchdog should keep an eye on is the prices charged to consumers, not "integration," be it vertical (one firm owning the factory, the trucks and the stores) or horizontal (companies buying out their direct competitors).

Using Amazon as her poster-child, Khan argues that whatever problems this approach had in bricks-and-mortarland (she highlights several), the combination of networks, digital goods, data-oriented retail, and huge pools of investment capital willing to float businesses like Amazon using their profits from one area to sell goods below cost in others to the detriment of their competitors, make mincemeat out of price-theory. The digital world -- where each customer might pay a different price, where retailers can use algorithms to price their competition out of existence -- is one where costs of one category of goods can't possibly capture the wider harms of monopolistic practice.

Related to this is On the Formation of Capital and Wealth, by Stanford's Mordecai Kurz, who proposes a means by which digital commerce can drive a winner-take-all phenomenon that makes the rich much richer, at the expense of the general welfare.

The question, then, is what to do about it. Khan suggests some modest reforms in anti-trust enforcement, which, despite their modesty and the extremely unlikeliness of seeing them enacted under Trump or any future establishment Democratic administration, have provoked howls of outrage from Chicago School economists.

More radical approaches have been proposed, of course. Paul Mason's Postcapitalism points to Amazon's very monopolism as the reason to believe that capitalism has outserved its usefulness. If a monopolist like Amazon can use customer surveillance and algorithms to decide what to make, where to put it, and how to deliver it, why do we need imperfect markets? Just nationalize Amazon and its datasets (for the record, I think Mason was unduly optimistic about the problems of anonymizing large data-sets).

But if the internet supercharges inequality and monopolism while delivering many undeniable benefits in coordination, culture, and material production, can we simply divorce technology from the economic and social context that created it? Can we have the internet without douchey Silicon Valley jerktech and its lucrepaths, vulgarati, uberization, mom-as-a-service, and *-bait?

It's not without precedent: the Protestant reformation gave us religion without the unified Church; the Enlightenment gave us alchemy without superstition; and Wikipedia and GNU/Linux gave us encyclopedias and operating systems without a single corporate overlord. As Leigh Phillips wrote in Austerity Ecology & the Collapse-Porn Addicts, the belief that Chicago-style sociopathic capitalism is the sole proprietor of technological change and improvement is one of the Chicago School's most successful projects, one that convinced large swaths of the left that you either have to be pro-technology or pro-human, that being anti-corporatism meant that you had to oppose the technical feats of corporations.

Science fiction's best move is cleaving a technology from its social and economic context, as steampunk does, when it imagines industrial-style production without the great Satanic mills where people become part of the machines, moving through scripted and constrained tasks in unison to the ticking of a huge time-clock. In steampunk, individual inventors and small groups produce things with the polish and awe-inspiring innovations of the industrial revolution, without the surrender of individual autonomy that industrialization demands of its workers. In steampunk -- to quote Magpie Killjoy -- we "love the machine and hate the factory."

The problem with Amazon isn't that it's now really easy to get a wide variety of goods without having to shlep all over the place trying to find the right widget (or book). The problem is the effect that this has on workers, publishers, writers, drivers, warehouse workers, and competition.

https://boingboing.net/2017/08/07/economists-so-fragile.html

[shadowsong26x]

TLJ Reaction Post!

Putting everything behind a cut just in case, to avoid spoilers. Also, any TLJ-related posts I either write or reblog will be tagged as listed here.

Feel free to reply/reblog/ask/whatever if you want to discuss!

So, that was an experience.

First, quick reaction--while I was watching it, it was overall engaging/good. I had some issues even in the moment, but most of what I’m going to write up here was of the fridge logic variety?

Things I liked:

- Leia getting a STRAIGHT-UP ACTUAL JEDI MOMENT. Yes, I am talking about her flying through space like Mary Poppins and yes it was ridiculous but again it was a Jedi Moment sooooooooo there it is.

- All of the combat scenes/lightsaber duels in particular were really well put together. The throne room duel (which I’ll talk about that whole scene in some detail later), Finn vs. Phasma, Astral Projection Luke vs Kylo Ren (side note: I had seen a poster or clip or something before this, and I was Very Annoyed that Luke’s lightsaber was blue pretty much for the same reason I get irrationally irritated when Padme is tagged/drawn in the Gothic Peacock dress and the fact that elbows don’t grow back oh my god--minor continuity details that make a difference but don’t really matter in the long run; but the fact that Luke chose to project himself with the Heirloom Lightsaber(tm) that blew up ten minutes ago made that make sense and was delightful in hindsight) the space combat--the red dust on Crait, though, so cool the way it did visual things.

- Pretty much everything to do with Finn and Rose’s plotline (except I was sad that there was no Lando cameo at Canto Bight)

- Most of the stuff with Amilyn I liked a lot too. Especially her flipping badass Last Stand. (I also liked the fact that the bulk of high command was women, and they made a point of showing off all the lady piliots)

- Luke and Leia’s reunion moment made me bawl in a very good way. (Side note: I’m pretty sure she knew all along he was Astral Projection Luke. In part because how else could he have gotten there, in part because, as my friend who I went to see it with pointed out, he projected himself exactly as he would have been the last time she saw him. Also the much shorter and darker hair which I feel is very impractical to manage in an X-wing cockpit)

- That little kid on Canto Bight. Oh, that little kid on Canto Bight, who reminded me so much of TPM!Anakin I can’t even. (There’s a whole potential Thing here, that my friend pointed out to me, re: Light/Dark/Balance a la Daughter/Son/Father from Mortis where we might be going for Kylo as Dark, Rey as Balance, Tiny as Light? I’m not sure if I actually want the story to go there or not but it’s at least interesting as a vague concept!)

- I love Poe. Just...Poe was delightful in this film, as he figures out exactly how Being In Command works, his relationship with Leia, his back-and-forth with Amilyn...

- I liked that the bridge/whatever between Rey and Kylo was clearly set up to parallel Luke and Leia, rather than anything romantic--to the point where Luke and Leia had a Twin Moment that then immediately cut to one of the shared dreams and that can’t have been an accident.

- There was a lot of really great dialogue in this film. Just in general. “Do you think you got him.” “I don’t think they like me very much.”/”I can’t imagine why.” “What are you looking at me for? Follow him!” Leia and Amilyn’s goodbye (which, side note--I read the Leia novel, and I definitely thought she and Amilyn had more chemistry than she and Kier did, also there’s a...something percolating in the back of my brain about Kier and Lando and the similar choices they made when their people were in danger and they felt their backs were against the wall, and what that might mean in terms of added context for Leia’s choices/actions in ESB, but that is a topic for a different post)

- While this was not the Force Ghost(s) I was looking for, I enjoyed Yoda’s appearance a whole heck of a lot.

- Rey and Poe finally actually met! And it was a very nice meeting!

- The fact that, once again, the last intelligible dialogue in the film went to Leia (because Tiny was speaking in another language)

Things I am neutral about but I feel bear mentioning:

- The reveal(?) about Rey’s parentage--I’m not sure whether or not Kylo Ren was lying, but I’m honestly okay with it either way. I mean, I’ve been on team Rey Kenobi, so to speak, from the beginning [partly because I think it makes a more interesting narrative than Rey Skywalker; partly because Obi-Wan’s line of descent, if he has one (and, whether it comes from Korkie and Satine or not, I think it could be credibly written that he does)...it makes much more sense that it would be lost the way Rey’s backstory establishes than either of Luke or Leia’s children being lost. And the potential alternatives (i.e., Shmi having had a child before Anakin and they were sold separately or something, or Anakin’s DNA being used to sire another child because Reasons, would require a lot more setup than we’ve got); also I kind of like the idea of Finn Skywalker though that ship has probably sailed]. Where was I...anyway, while I prefer that story, I don’t actually dislike any of the potential theories (except the reincarnation one). And Rey Nobody (I think is what it was called?) has its own appeal, definitely. So...I guess my reaction to that is a nonreaction? Especially since I can’t make up my mind whether or not it’s true...

- I wasn’t super invested in any shipping in this trilogy, but honestly as far as I’m concerned we now have a third possible endgame pairing for Finn and I like all three. (I’d rather not discuss this particular point in overmuch detail, because as I said I’m not super invested in any ST ships and I know a lot of people are and I’d rather not get argued at on the subject).

- I have no idea how I feel about the Heirloom Lightsaber(tm) being destroyed? But the crystal seemed to be intact sooooooo we’ll see.

- Snoke’s ridiculous golden bathrobe???????

Things I liked less:

- I’m not thrilled with how Luke was written. Like...I can make it make sense. I can draw the roadmap in my brain of how we got from the Luke I know and love to the Luke we saw in this movie (including in the flashback) but it takes a lot of backhacking, so to speak. Honestly, if I ever get this far in a canon-aligned fic timeline, I would definitely go in a different direction (frex, if Masks ever comes back off hiatus and I get to Martyrs, which is the third part of that AU and is set in this timeframe, it would no longer be an In Spite Of A Nail AU from here).

(This sort of ties into...look, if I was going to assign a cardinal narrative sin to each of the trilogies (looking only at how the story is structured here), the PT has pacing issues, the OT was made up as it went along and it shows in several points; but the ST? The ST relies way too much on It’s All There In The Manual. I’ve read some of the Manual, but not all of it, because I mostly hang out in the PT corner of the fandom, but it was an issue in TFA and it was an issue again in TLJ. Amilyn and Leia, I think, suffered from this the most, but Luke’s headspace probably did, too.)

- I’m not super thrilled with the fact that we got introduced to a lot of interesting new characters, and almost all of them just...died. And I kept looking for familiar faces from TFA in the background of the Resistance and...yeah, they weren’t there.

- This is...this is maybe not going to come off as super articulate when I try to explain myself, but it actually bothers me a lot. And that’s that...there’s...there’s no...

Look. To me, above all things, Star Wars is about Redemption. It is about finding the spark of light in the darkness, and fanning it into a flame. And I say this even as someone who primarily hangs out in the PT part of fandom, which is in some ways structured as the opposite (i.e., find the speck of darkness in the light and feed it until it consumes all). Because it’s still there at the end. We still have that spark--in the twins, and in their guardians--and we are nurturing it until it is ready to burst into a proper flame and it also set up Anakin’s motivations in a way that led to/added to the credibility/impact of the eventual redemption arc. (Like I said, I’m not sure I can articulate this well, but it’s a Thing, okay?) And, yes, I get that the ST is coming at this find-the-light-in-the-dark theme from a different angle which is fine, I guess, I just...I just...

There is no antagonist (who has been at all developed) who is redeemable at this point.

Like--I didn’t really care about Kylo Ren as Kylo Ren. I cared about his (potential and now thwarted) redemption arc because see above about how that’s what Star Wars is to me. And where we left off at the end of TFA, he could still credibly be redeemed. And now, even without all the explicit ROTJ parallels (up to and including straight-up quoted dialogue), that door is closed. A redemption arc for him from here would not be credible.

And no one else in the First Order is developed enough for it, except maybe Hux, who also has credibility issues (to draw a comparison, that would be like trying to write a redemption arc for Tarkin, aka essentially impossible without an AU breakpoint when he was like twelve or younger at which point it’s not a redemption arc it’s a completely different story.) Phasma (assuming she isn’t actually dead, which I think she’s not but ehhh she might be) isn’t developed enough. No one else in the First Order who’s still alive has an on-screen not-All-There-In-The-Manual name, so it wouldn’t have the necessary emotional/narrative payoff.

And that’s...that’s...I don’t like it. I really don’t like it. I mean...it actually weirdly bothers me less than I thought it would, when I was trying to talk about this a year or so ago? I have no idea why, because like I thought that would be something that would make me completely break away at least from the ST era/corner of the fandom. And yet it’s not. But it’s still...Star Wars has always sold itself as straight up Good Vs Evil, but has had that...coming home. Or something? Like I said, not sure I’m too articulate about it. But I don’t like that this happened the way it did.

And also, just...like, think about what it would have been if they had just gone ahead and played the ROTJ aspects straight. If Ben Solo had come home, the way Anakin Skywalker did--without dying. We would get the story we never got with Vaderkin, of clawing his way back and atoning and making amends. We barely even got it with Ventress (side note: there’s a Thing in the back of my head that I’m not sure I can get out in any articulate way about the parallels between Anakin and Ventress because man.) (Also I think there might be a plot like this in Rebels, but I haven’t seen it yet so IDK for sure.)

Sigh. I don’t know. I think we’re going to get an interesting story about the way things did go, which may be part of why I’m less upset than I thought I would be. But I am upset.

(Side note: I do think that Snoke’s death was really well-put-together/well-played. I genuinely didn’t see it coming until the Heirloom Lightsaber started turning. Like...I pretty much figured that it wasn’t going to go how either Rey or Kylo saw it, because (even before Snoke said he made the bridge between them) I pretty much figured they’d both seen what they wanted to see/their ideal ending for the confrontation, so I knew it would be some kind of third option, but I did not expect the one we got and the way it was presented/approached was extremely effective; I just have serious, serious issues with where it went from there).

- I wish there had been more Leia. And Maz. And Phasma.

- I wish it had done more to expand on/develop the relationships/answer the questions/etc. established by TFA. In some ways, it feels more like “this is a series of events that happened in the wake of that,” rather than a continuation? This was mostly a problem with Poe’s storyline--Rey’s did okay at that, though if the backstory reveal was true it was a little disappointingly presented and if it’s not it didn’t resolve enough; and Finn’s did reasonably well. (Also, there were supposed to be Knights of Ren???? Were these the students that Kylo Ren left with after burning Luke’s Temple? What happened to them? Were those the people he and Rey killed in the throne room?????)

- On a much pettier note--what the fuck even was up with the timeline???? HOW SHORT ARE THE DAYS ON AHCH-TO? WHAT ABOUT FREAKING TRAVEL TIME--FTL TRAVEL IN THIS UNIVERSE IS NOT INSTANTANEOUS AND THAT IS EXPLICITLY REFERENCED IN THIS VERY FILM. Congratulations, Star Wars, you now have a film with a timeline that makes even less sense than ESB. [ROTS doesn’t, either, although that one’s more a question of ‘exactly how long is it between the Invisible Hand and Utapau because I don’t buy the ‘less than two weeks’ from the novel, but beyond that it could be anywhere from like a month to like three or four...but that makes sense, it’s just unclear.)

And, because I like to end on a positive note--there’s a lot I do genuinely enjoy/like/even love about this movie. Is it my favorite? Probably not; I don’t know exactly where I’d rank it, but probably in the Bottom Tier (I have sort of three tiers in terms of ‘Which Of These Puppies Licking My Face Am I Most Likely To Take Home If I Can Only Have One’ and they fluctuate a fair amount other than ESB, AOTC, and ROTS are consistently in the top tier). But there’s enough about it that I liked that I’m going to see it again, and while the things I disliked were for the most part serious issues, they weren’t enough to make me want to avoid the film itself. I’m hoping the next movie answers some more things, I’m hoping Phasma and Baby Canto Bight Jedi come back, I’m looking forward to Force Ghost Luke (and maybe the others fingers crossed).

[setoangel01-fanfiction]

Restoration

Set Me Free - Chapter 3 (Previous Chapters)

Rated: T

Pairing: Johnny x Ash (Jash)

Chapter Summary: (Sing 2016) Ash finishes her song and begins to push forward after the painful breakup. Yet, will she ever get a chance to sing it?

Fanfiction.net

A03

"Ooh…You set it all free…" Ash finished; voice a bit raspy and heavy in her raw throat as she sang out the final words of the song. The slight echo of her apartment causing her vocalization to bounce nicely off the walls.

With the last few strums of notes played before her fingers went lax over the vibrating strings. Stretching out her hand, she sighed as she looked down at her abused paw. Digits were painfully sore; tender, reddened, and deeply indented by the metal guitar strings caused by playing almost constantly for two straight days - perhaps even longer.

Time didn't really seem to be a factor as she lost herself to her music. Spending countless hours wording and re-wording the lyrics, playing and re-playing certain chord progressions, bass lines, and adding notes that fit and removing others that didn't. Going back over it time and time again, wanting it to be just perfect; a song befitting her struggles and now her overcoming them.

The process was painfully long and arduous and frequently during the process, Ash was tempted to pull out her quills one by one and fling them into the walls to ease her frustrations. Because if she was at all honest with herself, writing her own song was much more difficult than she ever expected. Never fully realizing how certain words just didn't fit in context, not exactly rhyming but it was much more cohesive when they did. Choruses needing power and presence to not be overdone by the verses. There were aspects she never expected to tackle such as timing and figuring out a rhythm that would correlate with the message she wanted to convey.

Long story short, it was ridiculously challenging - yet, now that the hardest part was over, there was only one thing for certain -

Ash had actually written a song.

It was still in its infancy in some regards. Flitting through different scales and wordings she was still trying to work out - but it was her song.

Staring down at her red electric guitar, her mind wandered; the sensation of realizing it began washing over her like gentle, comforting waves upon a beach. A deep and satisfying sense of accomplishment she swore she never experienced before. She'd actually written a song - the feat itself was shocking and astounding and Ash was still trying to come to grips with it all. She thought of these past few days, her own emotional state faltering between anger, resentment and bouts of uncontrollable sobbing, she made it happen; precisely where it came from - she couldn't tell you.

Whether it was from sitting among the remains of her and Lance's tattered relationship in the form of multiple pictures ripped to bits and pieces at her feet or a few of his discarded clothes which she attacked with a pair of scissors and sorely tempted to char with a match if she wasn't afraid of setting her apartment building ablaze. Destroying his entire collection of guitar magazines and lame band posters stabbed with her quills, or whether the words originated from the emotional turmoil she felt toward the entire situation - she wasn't sure.

Most likely all of the above.

Creating the music was simple enough; the words were another.

At first, she tried to purposefully write them out but when that failed spectacularly, she just sat. Staring and contemplating for hours at the remains of her and Lance's relationship scattered around her. Tired of ripping up his stuff to appease her own vengeful urges, she just opened her mouth and words began filing out as if words to a song. His betrayal, her anger and pain at the unfairness of it all - they all just spilled forth and she was lucky enough to get most of them written onto her laptop before they disappeared into the abyss.

Final draft nearly completed, it began to dawn on her. Using his betrayal that was still far too fresh, the wasted time and effort for not noticing it before and how she wasn't going to let it hold her back anymore. Wasn't allotting this jerk the satisfaction of ruining her life anymore than he already accomplished.

This was her chance at redemption; to make a name for herself without him. To push through life and her future career of her own volition and talents rather than relying on his supposed musical genius.

Ash couldn't help but snort and roll her eyes at the thought.

To think how she defended Lance's "artistry" to Buster Moon; how it was everyone else who didn't understand his genius and under-appreciated talents. To realize and come to terms that for all this time how SHE was ultimately the biggest fool. The one who couldn't see him for who he really was - a smug entitled asshole who thought the world should be served to him on a silver platter.

In his own deluded mind at least.

She had been so blind to his own flaws and shortcomings and instead of trying to improve himself, he just pushed his own insecurities onto her already overburdened shoulders.

Annoyed at the sudden thoughts of him plaguing her mind, she put her guitar down to rub at her face. Exhaustion and anxiety boiling in her stomach and mind as she let out a deep breath to cleanse herself. A few rays of sunshine began prickling at the edges of her quills and fur and within seconds, she jumped as if electrocuted. Leaping for her charging cell phone and stared at the screen. Ignoring all of the missed calls and texts, she honed in on the date and time in utter panic.

"I'll see you on Friday." Buster's voice suddenly filled into her mind; body suddenly thrust into complete overdrive.

Time was running short and she needed to hurry. This was her big chance to redeem and prove herself worthy of a second chance and she did not plan on letting it slip through her fingers this time around…

Trampling through the front doors of Moon Theater, Ash ran into the last thing she expected - construction.

The center and front of the theater completely blocked off with barriers as Buster Moon, Meena, and an unfamiliar sheep were working tirelessly to set up this new stage. A vast assemblage of multiple glass panels set into the stage to create almost an aquarium effect - complete with water filling it up slowly from what she could see from her vantage point.

Frankly, it looked fairly impressive but there was no conceivable way for her to go backstage with the barriers blocking her way. The small crew looked as if the renovations were nearing its completion but the clean-up had yet to be tackled.

So lost in staring at the scene, Ash scarcely noticed when Meena meekly approached.

"H-Hey, Ash." the elephant was barely audible amongst the hammering and rushing water but she met her eyes anyway.

"What's going on here?" Ash asked; gesturing loosely to all of the construction.

"M-Mr. Moon is having a special guest so wanted a nicer backdrop for you guys to perform on. Actually, w-we've been working on it for days."

"That's cool, I guess. So,um - any idea how to get back there so I can change and practice for a bit or…?"

"Oh! Y-Yeah! Mr. Moon said he left a sign outside for you guys. F-For you to use the back entrance - you know, that one over by his office?" the elephant's hands folding nervously in front of her as she answered.

"I think I know where that door is. Uh - Thanks." Ash muttered, feeling a bit peeved at having to go the long way around, but as she turned to leave, Meena spoke out again.

"I-I don't mean to pry, b-but, are you okay? …I-I mean the other day, you just seemed really sad. N-N-Not that I noticed or anything!" large hands rose up in a placating manner and the elephant's face was slowly being engulfed by her own ears. "I-I just wanted to make sure you're alright." Meena stuttered through her sentences and eyes mostly staying on her feet as she spoke.

Clenching her teeth at the sudden inquiry, Ash pushed through her answer as politely as she could warrant right now. Lance and her breakup was a touchy subject and moreover was her dealings with it but she also didn't want to be rude to the meek girl either.

"...Yeah. I'm fine." Ash replied with a slight nod, which Meena accepted with a nervous smile.

Back outside, she walked all the way around the building until she found the camouflaged door between some poles covered in chipped yellow paint. The dusty air from construction was almost immediately intoxicating as she opened the door and shut it behind her; conditions expected from such an old building but was bothersome nonetheless.

A slight spring in her step as she gripped her guitar case tighter; determined to practice it at least a few more times before Buster called them on stage. Her own lyrics and chords going through her head as she made it up the stairs. Eyes subconsciously glancing to a couple of the pictures and posters lining the walls throughout the hallway. Majority of them weathered, cracked with dusty frames; the subjects portrayed were mostly deceased stars that graced the theater once upon a time.

Temporarily passing by Buster's office, she froze mid-step.

The door was ajar and the piano music pouring forth was seemingly pleasant enough to warrant a quick listen. Not seeing a radio or anything of the sort, she was confused as to where exactly it could be coming from.

Allowing her curiosity taking over, she peered into the door crack and saw Johnny over in the far right corner of the room. The gorilla, sans leather jacket, was sitting at the tattered old piano, playing a song she swore she heard before; perhaps from one of her father's records. It wasn't the one he'd played last time and that was about the extent she cared to give it any further thought. Gaze wandering over the strange scene, she took in Ms. Crawley, the ancient iguana fast asleep on the chair a few feet behind him. It was hard to tell she was sleeping at first since her glass eye was peeled wide open; that sight caused Ash's lips to quirk up slightly.

Icy blue eyes flicked back over to Johnny who was lost in his own world. Arms and shoulders swaying, foot tapping, head bobbing along with the beat he was playing. Humming out the up-tempo melody; a few sung words escaping every now and again as he played but it was apparently more to keep his place in the music rather than performing the lyrical aspect.

Ash had to admit that he'd vastly improved - and in such a ridiculously short time.

Her own guitar playing took months for her to attempt more intricate pieces without screwing up and this guy picked it up in more or less than a week! It was nothing compared to the awful plinking and missed notes from the other day; now it was smooth and fluid as his hands tickled the ivories in confidence. Any hint of stubborn jealousy fell to the wayside as she marveled in her own victory; being able to write her own song in two days and if he was able to learn a song on the piano in the same amount of time, well, perhaps miracles did happen…

A missed note abruptly rang out and an instantaneous groan of frustration filled her ears.

Perhaps she'd spoken too soon.

"Ugh! I almost had it…." Johnny exclaimed; accented voice muffled from stuffing his face into his hands. Ms. Crawley didn't so much as twitch as the gorilla stubbornly hit the keys with clenched fists. "Bugger!" he grumbled; forehead pressed on the keys and the piano groaned loudly under his weight.

The almost curse, if you could call that, had a slight chuckle tickling Ash's throat when she heard it because it was surprising to see the gorilla acting as such. Yet, what surprised her more was how quickly he picked himself up; almost immediately, he took a deep breath and gave himself a quick pep talk before the song started again from the top.

Ash had to give Johnny credit where it was due - the guy didn't give up…

A sudden slam of a door down the hall had her flinch and realize she'd been standing here far too long already. Own career and chance at the money on the line was far more important than checking out the competition…

Not like that, dammit!…she grumbled internally while shaking her head of any further pesky thoughts; chalking their escape up to her incredible exhaustion. Refusing to spare Johnny another glance, she disappeared down the stairs to the practice rooms.

Roughly an hour later, Meena had told them to meet Buster Moon backstage.

For no apparent reason, Ash was tense and beside herself. Reluctantly dressed in the atrocious outfit Buster had chosen; a sudden bundle of nerves caused by her exhaustion and wariness weighing down on her. Realizing she was about to perform something so personal in front of everyone; essentially airing out her dirty laundry among these random acquaintances. Sure, alone and lost in her own thoughts, the song came out but did it warrant her singing her own struggles with her ex to them?!

"Alright. I'll be calling you back one by one! Johnny, you're up first, so get ready." Buster announced, the koala bounding through the backstage and looking over each of them.

"Yes, sir." the gorilla replied politely as Buster moved closer to the stage.

"Good. Everyone else know their numbers?"

"Ya!" Gunter announced with an exuberant flourish but the rest of the crew just gave the koala a stiff nod.

"Alright! Break a leg, everybody!" Buster encouraged before he was gone with a flick of the curtain.

Ash was only somewhat aware of anything that was happening around her or on stage; even largely trying to ignore the other performers surrounding her. But as the time ticked on, Ash's icy blue eyes flicked up for only a second to take in her surroundings.

Rosita still seemed less than optimistic about performing but it was a relief to see the kindly pig here considering what had occurred just days ago. Gunter was his normal self; strutting around, jogging in place and adjusting the sequin tracksuit in the mirror that Johnny just vacated. Speaking of whom, the gorilla was leaning against a wall, fingers loosely drumming on his thighs like he was at the piano. Admittedly, less jittery than last time, there was still an almost panic to his motions. The last contestant, Mike, was nowhere to be seen and for that, Ash was rather thankful… Almost as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, the mouse rubbed her the wrong way. Smug superiority lacing every single word coming out of his mouth reminded her far too much of a certain cheating bastard…

Tearing her eyes back to her lap, she took a calming breath. Refusing to give Lance a thought right now. This was her moment, her time to shine and he shouldn't get the pleasure of being on her mind during any of this. Putting her hand atop her guitar case as if for comfort, she closed her eyes and relaxed if only for a moment.

Buster's muffled announcements in introducing their show was barely registering to her as she got lost in her own meditations. Lyrics and chords going over and over again in her head as she mentally prepared herself. Still experiencing slight trepidation, she was ready to prove herself in front of Buster Moon and even the special guest he acquired, the famous ex-Broadway performer, Nana Noodleman.

There was so much she wanted to prove to them, the world, Lance, and mostly to herself. To demonstrate that she could do this of her own volition. Take pride in her accomplishment - her song and knew singing it today would be the right choice…

A slam of the front doors followed soon by voices bellowing through the theater had the entire group flinch and rise to their feet. Angry, muffled demands were not exactly what any of the performers were expecting. Giving each other curious glances and wondering what to do next was considered for them when the voices turned from demanding to downright furious.

Gunter, Rosita, Johnny, and Ash emerged onstage, with Meena following behind, ran out onto the stage and saw what no one was expecting.

The missing contestant, Mike, was currently being crushed inside the hand of a massive bear with two more, who looked almost identical, standing just inches behind. Before anyone could even mutter a single word, the newcomers beat them to it.

"Where's da money?!" The largest bear growled out; razor sharp teeth bared as he stared down at a very confused Buster Moon.

The koala, seemingly not very intimidated, replied, "Uh - What are you talking about?" Buster was not exactly subtle as he backed up closer to a very pretentious looking chest on stage.

The bears were not amused.

"Please, Moon!" Mike squeaked pathetically as the bear tightened his grip. "They're gonna fuckin' kill me!"

"Alright, alright, alright!" Buster stuttered, small hands up in a placating manner as to try and appease the suddenly tense situation. "S-S-Sure. The chest. I-It's all yours, boys. Take it and please vacate my theater."

"Yau op'n eet furst." one of the bears behind the leader spoke up; accent even thicker than the first. As if it wasn't hard enough to understand them…

"Oops. I uh, seemed to have misplaced the key," Buster made a rather convincing show of patting down his pockets, "I think it may be in my office but wouldn't you rather just take the whole thing? It should weigh nothing compared to what you strong gentlemen are probably used to carrying."

The bears answered by squeezing Mike tighter to which the mouse let out a painful squeal and everyone swore they heard an almost muted crack.

"Oh, look! There it is! Who would've thought? I found it! Silly me, I keep forgetting about that pocket." Buster chuckled nervously; a single drip of perspiration slipping down his face as he offered the small key to the towering bears.

Suffice to say, they weren't interested in taking it.

"You open it." the leader growled deep in his throat and Buster swallowed thickly.

"S-Sure."

You could hear a pin drop as Buster Moon made his way to the chest and popped open the lock. Suddenly, Mike was thrown to the ground and the bears had trampled over to the chest and pushed Buster aside. The koala hitting the stage with a painful thud as the monstrous bears ripped open the wooden box and to the horror of everyone watching…

There was nothing but junk stuffed inside.

"What is dis?" the leader asked the question on everyone's mind.

"T-The uh, prize…" Buster replied with a chuckle.

The contestants watching on were in complete shock at the implications of what Buster was saying. The broken radio and random trash piled inside the now open box…this was the $100,000 they were promised…?

Yet before anyone could even form the ability to speak or demand an explanation, a roar broke out through the theater. The bears stomped angrily toward the downed Buster Moon with their fists raised. The largest slamming his foot right near Buster's skull and the sound that accompanied prickled the hair on every one of their bodies.

It was almost muted at first. The barest breath of wind before a deafening cracking dissonance infiltrated Moon Theater; the group peering up at the hairline cracked that formed before the glass wall exploded in a thundering boom.

[wonderliv]

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

John Muir ” The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go “, born in 1838, was just one of America’s most popular and also prominent “Outdoor Lover,” which in his era, were called Naturalists. He remains one of California’s most important historical characters and is usually still known today as one of the Dad’s of our National Parks. He defined himself as, a “poetico-trampo-geologist-botanist and also ornithologist-naturalist and so on and so on !!!!”.

Famous documentary manufacturer Ken Burns recently stated, “As we got to know him … he [John Muir] rose to the pantheon of the greatest individuals in our country; I’m talking about the level of Abraham Lincoln, and also Martin Luther King, as well as Thomas Jefferson, and also Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Jackie Robinson– people that have had a transformational result on that we are.”.

Perhaps the best means to evaluate the continued gravity of both him and his inspiring quote is by its’ occurrence on the Internet’s universal peg-board, Pinterest.com. There you will locate a substantial directory of attractive, typographically stylized pictures with the quote decorated throughout each of them.

So where did this quote actually originated from? It, like several others, came from among his letters written to his sister, Sarah Muir Galloway. In it he creates:.

Yosemite Valley– September 3rd, 1873. Dear Sibling Sarah:. I have actually simply returned from the lengthiest and also hardest trip I have ever before made in the hills, having actually been looked at five weeks. I am tired, however resting quick; drowsy, however sleeping deep and also fast; hungry, however eating a lot. For two weeks I checked out the glaciers of the tops eastern of below, sleeping among the snowy hills without coverings and with but little to eat on account of its being so inaccessible. After my icy experiences it seems weird to be down here in so warm as well as flowery an environment.

I will quickly be off once again, established to use all the season in prosecuting my researches– will go next to Kings River a hundred miles southern, then to Lake Tahoe and surrounding hills, and also in winter months operate in Oakland with my pen.

The Scotch are slow, but someday I will have the outcomes of my mount mountain researches in a type in which you all will certainly be able to check out and also judge of them. In the mean time I create sometimes for the Overland Month-to-month, yet neither these publication posts neither my first publication will create any finished part of the clinical payment that I wish to make … The hills are calling as well as I should go, and also I will certainly work on while I can, studying ceaselessly.

My love to you all, David and the youngsters, as well as Mrs. Galloway who though came from sunshine yet, dwells in Light. I will certainly create again when I return from Kings River Canyon. The fallen leave sent me from China is for Cecelia.

Goodbye, with love eternal.

[John Muir]

Absorbed its original context as well as recognizing a little a lot more about him, It’s very easy to see an ambitious, regimented, and also extremely objective oriented boy; dedicated not just to the outdoors (as we generally see him) but additionally to his work. Yes, passionately, the Hills were contacting us to him as they do us, but the full quote genuinely speaks to his operate in those high places. Turns out, Muir had not been just speaking about treking for pure laid-back satisfaction, nor regarding those careless summer season outdoor camping vacations that so quickly enter your mind when one reads that quote. What Muir was actually talking about was the job he felt compelled to do in these incomparably stunning areas– he was determined to make a substantial “clinical payment” as a biologist. John Muir was operating in Yosemite, and functioning really hard no question. So while the preferred connotation attributed to his quote might not be totally exact, there is deep motivation to find in it still.

It appears that his love for nature was only equaled by his commitment to understanding and protecting it.

This essay initially ran in 2016 and is one in a collection of our most preferred articles that we put on top of our tale stream for new readers. With more than 3,000 evergreen stories, we want to see to it you don’t miss out on the goods!

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

Run a Google search on biologist and preservationist John Muir and also you will swiftly show up one of his best-known, yet abbreviated, sayings: “The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go.” It’s an engaging quote that says everything for many outdoor enthusiasts, which might discuss why it’s printed extensively on mugs, tee shirts, posters and fashion jewelry and also reworded by today’s travelers.

Nevertheless, the reduced quote doesn’t totally record John Muir or his desire to comprehend and also protect The golden state’s Yosemite– a grand glacially reduced valley with sheer 2,500-foot wall surfaces, now government shielded as one of the earliest of the Sierra Nevada’s 4 national forests.

As we mark the anniversary of Muir’s birth on April 21, 1838, we need to think about the full quote, which appears in an 1873 letter from Muir to his sister: “The hills are calling & I need to go & I will certainly work on while I can, examining persistently.” These words reveal a male who saw responsibility and also objective along with pleasure in the mountains. Muir was a master onlooker who enjoyed the consistent work of recognizing nature.

As the manager of John Muir’s documents at the University of the Pacific, I help researchers to “examine nonstop” these basic materials as well as obtain the full unabbreviated story. The documents reveal Muir’s decision to translate as well as protect nature, and also his critical function in the development of the National Park Solution which is commemorating its 100th wedding anniversary this year.

DID YOU KNOW JOURNEY JOURNAL DOESDECLINE PAID OR SPONSORED WEB CONTENT? RIGHT HERE’S WHY– AND HERE’S HOW YOU CAN BE A PART OF READER-RESPECTED POSTING.

You as well can take part in not only understanding Muir yet making him much more accessible by transcribing his handwritten journals. We are employing person managers to collect Muir’s words as well as make his journals keyword-searchable. Obviously, the payoff for the scribes is locating their own significant Muir quote.

Revelry as well as science. Via Muir’s archives we can map how his thinking about Yosemite advanced over almost 50 years. He first pointed out the valley in an 1867 letter after an industrial mishap left him briefly blind: “I check out a summary of the Yo Semite valley in 2014 and also have thought about it most daily given that.”.

Muir, that was birthed in Scotland and matured in Wisconsin, went to college briefly and “botanized” every opportunity he might obtain. He made his living as a creator and efficiency expert, however the mishap realigned his thinking. As he would certainly later remember in his autobiography, he “made haste with all my heart, bade adieu to all ideas of designing equipment as well as figured out to commit the rest of my life to researching the creations of God.”.

Before acting upon those “each day” ideas and also mosting likely to Yosemite, Muir wanted to adhere to the footsteps of renowned naturalist Alexander von Humboldt to South America, so he got some books as well as a plant press, and also began his “thousand mile walk to the Gulf” of Mexico from Indianapolis. Nonetheless, a spell with malaria in Florida diverted his attention from checking out South America. He decided to make his way to California by means of steamship as swiftly as feasible.

Muir got to the granite high cliffs of Yosemite in the spring of 1868. He was short on money but high up on the majestic elegance of the granite encounters, the magnificent Giant Sequoia trees, and also the roaring falls. In a letter to mentor and also buddy Jeanne Carr, he created, “It is without a doubt the grandest of all of His special temples of Nature I was ever allowed to go into. It needs to be the sanctum sanctorum of the Sierras [sic]”.

The Sierra had called, as well as he went. Muir studied the “Range of Light” incessantly for the following five years while staying in Yosemite Valley. He recognized that his research studies could be dangerous– for example, he virtually dangled himself over the top of the 2,500-foot Yosemite Falls in order to observe the activity of the water– however expressed no fear, exclaiming “Where could a mountaineer locate an even more glorious fatality!”.

Muir’s extreme monitorings deepened his understanding of the natural world as well as called him better right into nature. Going into a grove of Giant Sequoias, the largest trees on the planet, he wrote what chronicler Bonnie Gisel considers Muir’s pledge of obligation to the wild:. The King Tree and also me have actually sworn everlasting love, … and also I have actually taken sacrament with Douglas Squirrel [and also consumed alcohol] sequoia blood … I desire I could be a lot more tree-wise as well as sequoiacal, so I could preach the green brownish woods to all the dry masses. Muir used his observations to translate the scientific research of Yosemite as well as the Sierra. Before Muir showed up, The golden state’s first rock hounds had supposed that Yosemite was created by tragic going down of the valley floor through violent quakes. Yet based on his researches as well as expedition, Muir concluded that glaciers had actually scratched Half Dome and carved the granite cliffs. Today geologists commonly concur that glaciers were key forces in the origins of the valley.

Maintaining the Sierra. In the very early 1870s, Muir drew his Yosemite observations together and also published articles concerning the grand landscapes. He preached his concepts and called those “juiceless masses” to join him in the hills. Years later he wrote,” [T] ry the mountain passes. They will certainly kill treatment, save you from harmful passiveness, established you cost-free, as well as call forth every professors into energetic, enthusiastic action.”.

Muir also started to call for shielding Yosemite as well as the Sierra. He saw major dangers from loggers’ axes and the animals market’s “hoofed locusts”– his description of sheep that were overgrazing as well as ruining mountain meadows. 2 years after Yosemite National Park was produced in 1890, he cofounded the Sierra Club to maintain California’s greatest chain of mountains as well as make it a lot more available.

Muir’s books and posts helped to promote gratitude of wilderness, and brought in political interest. In 1903, Head of state Theodore Roosevelt visited Yosemite with Muir, wishing to “go down national politics definitely for 4 days and also just be visible with you.”.

In 1908 Muir joined an additional head of state, William Howard Taft, in Yosemite, looking for to quit a project by the city of San Francisco to construct a tank in the Hetch Hetchy Valley, which lay inside the national park. Muir stated in outrage,” Dam Hetch Hetchy! Too dam for water-tanks individuals’s basilicas as well as churches, for no holier holy place has actually ever before been consecrated by the heart of man.”.

The fight to preserve the glorious valley was shed in 1913 when Congress passed an expense accrediting the dam. The loss virtually killed Muir too, as well as he died of pneumonia in a Los Angeles hospital a year later.

Summing up Muir’s heritage with the declaration that “the hills are calling and also I have to go” can suggest that he viewed nature as a play area. When he included, “& I will work with while I can, studying ceaselessly,” we see an even more full image of Muir’s relationship with Yosemite. He checked out the Sierra with a mix of reverence as well as scientific fascination, yet comprehended that its future relied on his efforts. Reviewing Muir’s writing meticulously, we can identify our proceeding duty to observe, analyze, as well as commemorate the worth of his “sanctum sanctorum.”

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

The post The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go appeared first on Wonderliv.