#Beach missiles

[coloradomartini]

Discovering Topsail Island and Surf City, North Carolina

Come with us as we explore Topsail and Surf City, NC looking at the beaches, WWII missile towers, Karen Beasley Sea Turtle Rescue and Rehabilitation Center, shark teeth fossils and seashell collection. If you have not been to the North Carolina coastline

Come with us as we explore Topsail and Surf City, NC looking at the beaches, WWII missile towers, Karen Beasley Sea Turtle Rescue and Rehabilitation Center, shark teeth fossils and seashell collection. If you have not been to the North Carolina coastline you should. We love it there and spend a lot time explore the great cities along the Atlantic Ocean shoreline. Learn more in the video by…

[lonestarbattleship]

USS Enterprise (CVAN-65) (bottom), USS Long Beach (CGN-9) (center) and USS Bainbridge (DLGN-25) (top) formed "Task Force One," the first nuclear-powered task force, and sailed 26,540 nmi (49,190 km) around the world in 65 days during Operation Sea Orbit. Accomplished without a single refueling or replenishment, "Operation Sea Orbit" demonstrated the capability of nuclear-powered surface ships.

Photographed on July 31, 1964.

source

NARA: 558526

[taiwantalk]

[gamergal-ds]

Comedically large ass beating

i was suffering at first but then Colin <3 (S ranked!!)

[orangerosebush]

Having a weird brain sometimes means you’ll have an immensely graphic nightmare and then like, have to go to class or work

[comradevo]

I think the Twitter gods have blessed me bc this is what my timeline usually looks like on any given day.

[letsgethaunted]

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Episode 119: The Battle of Los Angeles Photodump

Image 01: The Los Angeles Times’ article on the Battle of Los Angeles Image 02: Map showing the major locations involved with the battle Image 03: The famous “Battle of Los Angeles” photo published to the LA Times on on February 26, 1942. The times was criticized for altering the image, however it was later discovered that all they did was paint over the base of the beams of light with white paint to make it stand out when printed on newspaper. Image 04: A missile landed in the bed of a housewife Image 05: (LEFT) bullet holes found in the car of a citizen (RIGHT) damage to a bedroom caused by shrapnel Image 06: (LEFT) Motorcycle Officer Bobby Clark reaches into hole caused by dud shell in driveway (RIGHT) Lieutenant L.E. Richards holds part of unexploded shell found after digging search Image 07: February 25, 1942 The Los Angeles Examiner article Image 08: Video footage of the Battle of Los Angeles. Some claim to see an ominous skull staring down at L.A. at the beginning of this clip. Image 09: Scott Littleton was 8 years old living in Hermosa Beach during the Battle of Los Angeles. In 2010, he gave a speech at MUFON LA, a UFO convention, where he talked about what he saw that night. Image 10: Wondering what weather balloons looked like in the 1940s? Here’s a photo of about 5 weather balloons during WWII in Britain.

[robsnavyphotos]

USS Long Beach CGN-9

Class: Albany

Commissioned: September 1961

Decommissioned: May 1995

Fate: Sold for scrap. Part of her hull and reactor components remain at the Puget Sound Shipyard

[probablyasocialecologist]

Deny and deflect is Israel’s usual strategy for dealing with high-profile civilian deaths. The deflection has come in three forms: One is claiming Palestinians killed the civilian (famous examples are British cameraman James Miller, 10-year-old Abir Aramin, the three daughters and niece of Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish inside their home in Gaza while he begged on live television for Israel to stop firing). Often Israel claims that the victim was near a site from which Palestinian gunmen were attacking Israelis and, hence, got killed by accident by Israeli gunfire (four Gaza children on the beach, 40 people taking refuge at a U.N. school in Gaza, the British U.N. worker Iain Hook in Jenin). Israel has also claimed that the civilian was involved in an attack on Israeli soldiers or was a member of a Palestinian militant organization (photojournalist Yaser Murtaja in Gaza). In other cases, Israel said that the facts around a killing are unclear, but definitely not Israel’s fault (Palestinian family killed by shell on beach in Gaza). In the case of the 2003 death of American pro-Palestinian activist, Rachel Corrie, who was run over by a military bulldozer, the Israeli army claimed “a slab of concrete” was likely what killed her. When Israeli missiles brought down an 11-story media building last year in Gaza, where Palestinian media networks and the Associated Press were located, Israel justified it by saying it was being used by Hamas.

Orly Halpern, The Problems With Israel's Version of the Killing of Reporter Shireen Abu Akleh

[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Prologue | Bradley Bradshaw

masterlist | next chapter

Six days after Maverick’s disappearance, Bradley isn’t quite whole anymore. But, there isn’t time to crumble.

warnings: : age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, extra warnings to be added chapter by chapter. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

“Rooster, those bandits are closing. We can’t go back.”

“Rooster, he’s gone. Maverick’s gone.”

It’s a stomach-sick, sweat inducing kind of fever that lingers now on this mild morning. Breeze blowing across his skin, patterned and rhythmic, reminding him every now and again to breathe.

It has been exactly six days since Pete Mitchell was declared missing in action. Six days since a missile meant for Bradley hit Pete’s plane and sent the sixty-five million dollar aircraft spiraling into miles and miles of desolate, freezing forest. Bradley has slept four times in those six days, and each time he has, his subconscious reminds him of exactly what he is responsible for

Today is a relatively chilly morning in May, and Bradley is sitting on the front step of a cottage near Bird Rock in northern San Diego. Today is the first day since he got home three and a half days ago that he has left his apartment. Natasha stayed over last night. She has stayed over every night. She slept by his side, on top of his covers, just holding his hand. When he was in the shower this morning, she laid out his clothes for him. She hasn’t ever known him to be this quiet. Ever.

He hasn’t said much at all since they got back. Natasha knows that he’s picturing himself alone in that forest. Dead, or worse.

Now, she sits at his side and rubs soft circles on his shoulder over the black fabric of his t-shirt. He would do it for her, if she was the one going through this. She would be too stubborn to listen to him too. They have known each other since flight school. Natasha got so drunk the first Friday that Bradley spent his entire first Friday holding her hair back while she threw up.

The next day, Bradley embarrassed himself so badly in front of a girl he liked that he almost quit just so that they wouldn't have to see each other again. After that, they have remained pretty close. Especially now, when they need each other.

“Rooster, no one expects you to be here right now — you went through something awful out there.” She says it one last time anyway, even though she knows that it won’t change a single thing.

That’s one of the reasons that their friendship is so strong — sometimes a person just has to do what they have to do, Bradley and Natasha respect that sentiment. Even if it means texting back a no-good ex, or staying out a little too late on a work night now and again. Each other’s best interests are always at heart, but it’s human to not put yourself first now and again.

Bradley hasn’t sat on the steps of Maverick’s two bedroom beach cottage since he was thirteen. Right before Maverick pissed off an admiral and got shipped out somewhere crazy, somewhere cold — he can’t remember exactly where anymore, he never wrote a letter there. Right before he started only seeing Maverick on holidays and special occasions, the occasional baseball game.

Pete bought this place back in the eighties. He got it for a steal. A craftsman bungalow three blocks from the beach, with two bedrooms and a small yard. He had wanted to be close to Carole, and he had just gotten married. Bradley’s memories of Charlie are faint, but he knows that her father helped Pete with the down payment. Maverick hated him for that. His first and, as it happened, only marriage hadn’t lasted very long. Two or three years, maximum. She was gone before Bradley finished second grade, anyway.

The spare room here used to be Bradley’s. Back when his mom worked weekends at a hotel in La Jolla, and he and Pete would take Friday night trips to Blockbuster every week. He hasn’t even been inside yet. He can’t imagine how much the interior would have changed since those weekends back in the nineties.

Glancing down at the IWC clock face on his wrist, the big hand has been creeping up on ten o’ clock for what feels like hours by now. Breeze sweeps a strand of Natasha’s hair off of her face. She leans against her best friend, her palm trailing to the middle of his back.

Natasha has two parents. They definitely don’t see eye-to-eye often, but she knows where they are. It’s a Sunday, they’ll be at Costco. She has a sister who gets on her nerves but adores her nonetheless, Leona will be at a spin class this morning. None of the people she loves are missing. If one of them were, she would have others to lean on.

For Bradley, it’s just her now.

“I can’t let her turn up to an empty house.” Bradley’s voice comes out more hoarse than either of them is expecting it to. He hasn’t cried yet. He keeps thinking he might, the urge is there, but the tears just don’t come.

Bradley doesn’t even know you. Not really. Not even when he was a kid. It’s been sixteen years since Bradley was even on speaking terms with Maverick. But now, everything’s different. He has a debt that he’ll never repay.

It has been six days. If Maverick survived the initial hit, and the ejection, then he has still been out in the snow for six days. Probably injured. Alone. Being hunted. He’s gone. And yet, Bradley just can’t — or won’t — grieve him. Moving on isn’t an option.

The person that they are waiting for is yourself. Pete Mitchell’s only child. Bradley doesn’t even know who he’s looking for. The last time he saw you was when you were three years old, staring at him from the backseat of your mother’s blue ford escort with a pacifier in your mouth while your parents argued a few feet away.

Penny Benjamin is the one that contacted you after the initial Navy correspondence. Bradley wouldn’t have even known how. He doesn’t have Maverick’s number any more, much less yours. Back when he knew you, you didn’t even know your numbers. Really he only saw you a handful of times. You hadn’t crossed paths much. Your mother lived up near Oregon. She was a waitress. Most of the time Pete drove up to see you, or the weekends that you visited him, Bradley would stay with a neighbour.

He bows his head just slightly, elbows rested on his parted knees. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn sweats. He hasn’t ever let Natasha dress him before. Today wasn’t a good day to start. Meeting Mav’s kid wouldn’t be a formal occasion, but under the circumstances.

His ears perk up at the sound of a misfire. Natasha flinches against him. She’s not been feeling that great since they got home either. Her dreams are like his too. It doesn’t matter. The car squeals around the corner at the far end of the street like its driver is trying to get it onto just two wheels. He lifts his head in time to see a steel blue ford escort hit the curb on the street just past Maverick’s property line.

Instantly, he pushes himself onto his feet. That kind of maniacal attitude to manning a vehicle must be hereditary.

Both he and Natasha watch as the driver slams their fists into the wheel in frustration. Then, you, the driver, notice them for the first time.

You’ve seen Bradley Bradshaw periodically throughout your life. There is no escaping his image when Maverick’s around. But, none of those photos are recent. They’re all from at least twelve years ago now. The only information you had been given was that Bradley looked kind of like Goose now.

And you — are not a little kid anymore. Natasha pushes herself to her feet, brushing the dust from her palms onto her jeans. A brief look is sent towards her best friend, but he doesn’t reciprocate. He’s staring straight ahead as you twist open the door handle and kick.

It complies with a groan and you start off with one foot on the pavement. High top black converse. The other foot follows next. Jeans. Normal, appropriate for the early May weather before the heat really picks up.

Then, as you push yourself to stand, Bradley can see the rest of you. You exhale and your hand flies to the back of your neck instantly.

“Hi,” You force out. “Bradley, right?”

That’s stupid. You know who he is. He knows who you are. You both know why you’re here. Natasha watches as you cringe into yourself, not necessarily physically, but it’s plastered all over your worried little face anyway.

“Yeah.” Bradley agrees without a nod. His hands are neither in his pockets nor doing anything else that might be productive. He tells himself that he should maybe shake your hand, but he doesn’t. He tells himself that maybe he should say something more, but he doesn’t.

Towering over the pretty brunette at his side, Bradley doesn’t look anything like he had in his photos at high school graduation. His face is longer and wider at the same time, his cheeks have lost some of their roundness but they still have a youthful pink flush. His hair is shorter, auburn and tidy around the back and sides. Still trying to be curly on top.

He grew up near the beach and his skin tells the tale. Freckles and a golden glow to his skin that you just know is an all year round kind of thing by now. Slight redness across his collarbones, the high points of his body where the sun hits most when he’s drying off after a swim.

In his eyes, you were hoping to find the boy from the pictures. The grinning blond in the baseball uniform. Instead, there’s something else.

Whatever it is, you hope it isn’t pity. Just because his dad — no, you shouldn’t think that. It shouldn’t start out like this.

“How was the drive? — Not too bad, I hope?” The tiny brunette finally bursts through the wall of silence that you and Bradley have been competitively building up since your sneaker touched the pavement two minutes ago. “I’m Natasha. I work with… — I — I’m Bradley’s friend.”

“Hi. It wasn’t too bad. I need to see a mechanic while I’m here, but — I don’t know. I’ll find time.” Just from watching you, Natasha can see that you’re all over the place. Neither here nor there. You don’t look like you’ve been crying either. Mascara intact, your makeup looks pretty.

Bradley knows that it has been a long time since he and Maverick were on speaking terms. He knows that even before that, they didn’t talk much about you. But, shit — he wishes now that he had at least seen a picture first so that he could prepare himself.

He remembers footie pajamas and drool and chubby, perpetually sticky cheeks.

Now, the belt looped through your blue jeans makes sure that the denim hugs you in all of the right places and that tank top is confirming to him that you’re no longer anything like the faint image he has in some of his oldest memories.

There’s got to be something wrong with him — that that’s the first thing that sprung to his mind. That Mav’s kid got hot in the twenty years since he saw her last. He shakes it from his head. Physically. He shakes his head and finally springs into action.

“What’s the matter with it?”

For the first time in five days, it’s the first time that someone hasn’t started a conversation by asking how you’re holding up. It catches you totally unprepared, and your knowledge of cars leaves you under qualified to answer anyway.

Bradley Bradshaw takes three long strides along the stone garden path and he has reached you already. He’s on a course right for you, and he’s big when he’s not squished into one of those photo frames in Maverick’s house. You lean back slightly, starting to brace for the impact of him hitting you.

He’s aware of his size and has learned to grow careful with it, stepping around you narrowly and heading straight for your old shitbox of a car.

“I don’t know. The steering is loose and the engine is making a weird noise.”

Bradley twists his neck and shoots an incredulous look at you, back over one of his wide shoulders. It’s a fourteen hour drive down from the Oregon coast, on a good day, and this car ran like shit when your mother bought it twenty something years ago.

Popping the hood, Bradley finds himself thinking of something other than those snowy peaks for the first time all week.

Ahead of you, you’re confronted with Mav’s place. The cottage you were forced to spend the occasional weekend or weeks in during the summer a couple of times through your childhood. Most of the times that you saw Pete were in your hometown. He was always the one who travelled. It seemed fair. His job meant that it didn’t happen often.

Your memories of this house are faint, but the same uncomfortable restless feeling it gives you remains. You remember quiet days sitting on the couch with your hands in your lap, waiting for that court-mandated forty-eight hours to be up.

Natasha is facing the other way. She watches Bradley step off of the curb and pop your hood. Bradley has a technical knowledge of engineering from his career, and a slightly broader scope from his interest in vintage cars — but he’s not a mechanic.

A quick glance to her right and she takes note of the way you’re frowning at the weeds poking through the stone path pavers.

Like watching a storm roll in before a big surf, Natasha has a bad feeling about this arrangement. Two people who should be coming to terms with their grief, and it's clear to her that you’re both planning on ignoring this problem by busying yourself for as long as you can.

“You can’t drive this piece of shit.” Bradley decides from the street. You turn slowly on the balls of your feet and push your hands into the pockets of your jeans. He doesn’t even look up.

Crowding over the hood of your car, glaring down at it. Thick shoulders filling out a plain black t-shirt and long legs hidden under loose fitting grey sweats. An auburn curl dangles over his forehead.

You twist and shoot a look back at Natasha.

“I… Kinda have to.” You point out. A recent graduate with no immediate career plans, who just quit their waitressing job to pick up the pieces of their presumably dead, semi-estranged father’s life. Buying a new car isn’t exactly in the budget right now.

Bradley opens his palms and braces them against the open hood. He turns his head and looks first at Natasha. His best friend. Then, the house. He learned to ride his bike on this street. Maverick lived on this street. Finally, his attention turns to you. He watches you watch him.

Leaning against your shitty, old car like it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet. Squinting at you because he left his sunglasses in work and the doctors won’t let him go back there for another couple weeks.

You’re staring back at him, wondering why he’s looking at you like that. Like he’s looking for something.

He pushes off of the car and stands, wiping his hands on his sweats. “I’ll take care of it. Whatever you need. I can drive you for a bit.”

As Bradley walks around to the back of the car and pops open the trunk to grab your bags, Natasha is struck with a numbing realization.

Maverick put himself in an early grave trying to make up for a mistake he made when he was young, and Bradley won’t stop until he does the same.

…

Tags: @ahoyyharrington @diorrfairy @just-a-harmless-potato @hangmanshoney @sgt-barnesveins @shanimallina87 @nykie-love-anime @lilyevanswhore @sammyrenae68 @moonlight-addisyn @pulisvertz @cherrycola27 @chxosunbound @tayygriffith @yuckosworld @callsign-magnolia @trickphotography2 @katieshook02 @atarmychick007 @sushiwriterhere @books-for-summer @thelonelyumbrella @angelbabyange @iwontshutuptilltheyaddgeckoemoji @stillreadingfantasy @casualhilarity @s-u-t @topguncortez @sweetwhispersofchaos @aaprilshowers @shadeds-library @bradswolfe @wishingwell-2 @roostersgirlfrxend @itsmytimetoodream

[chaiaurchaandni]

im sure by now youve all seen the video of israel using drones to hunt and kill four Palestinian young men who were walking through their destroyed neighborhood. just in case you believe that israel somehow unlocked a new level of barbarity in this genocide, i want you to know that israeli terrorists have already done something similar to Palestinian children in 2014. a decade ago.

The 4 boys who were playing on the beach in Gaza back in 2014.

They were killed by ISR missile. They were playing near an empty shipping container, one of the boys went inside it, he was killed first. As the others tried to flee, they were targeted and hit. Other boys were injured. The four boys that were murdered were between the ages of 9-12.

ISR claimed it was a mistake, evidence, and many witnesses contradict this. ISR doesn't make mistakes. It has always targeted Palestinian civilians.

What we are witnessing is not new. ISR is a terror state, and it needs to be held accountable.

[reilora-borealis]

It’s HotBoi summer

Here are your instructions, Essek Nation, listen carefully 

DOs:

beach reading 📚

gardening 🌸

dipping your feet in the hot tub 👣

soup 🍲

designer fits 🕺🏾

magic missile (so you don’t hurt your friends) 💫

DON’Ts:

sunburn 😎

stress drinking 🍷

daddy issues 🏈

repressed religious trauma 🙅🏻‍♀️

war crimes 💅🏻

unsupervised acts of wizarding hubris 🔮

[girlactionfigure]

🟢 Tue morning  - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

❗️YESTERDAY’S MASSACRE STORY FALLS APART.. the attack DID NOT take place in a designated safe zone but 1 km away.  The fire was caused by a nearby vehicle loaded with EXPLOSIVES - more specifically rockets.  The IDF used a “very small” bomb, and the damage shows no bomb dispersal pattern (meaning it wasn’t from the bomb).  

▪️UNRWA - 1 MILLION LEAVE RAFAH.. everyone who wanted to leave Rafah has.

▪️AID PIER DIFFICULTIES.. most of the aid pier was floated to Ashdod, to shelter during wavy seas.  One part broke away and beached in Ashkelon, along with a vessel trying to pull it off.  Another 2 pieces washed ashore in Gaza.  Several experts weighed in: bad place for this type of pier, there were other better options.

▪️ROBOT / DRONE ARMOR?  Spotted in Rafah: armed APC’s with no humans aboard - new drone armor by the IDF.

▪️HEZBOLLAH LAUNCHES A CROWD FUNDING CAMPAIGN.. you too can buy a drone or missile to kill Jews.  

▪️PROTEST CONVEY.. is slowing traffic along the coastal highway.  The protest for the "return of the mandate to the people" motorcades left from several points in the country as part of the protest calling for the elections.

♦️RAFAH - TUNNELS.. The IDF has so far located more than 10 smuggling tunnels along the Philadelphi axis, crossing from the Gaza Strip to Egypt. Some were destroyed, the IDF is working to destroy the rest.

♦️RAFAH - FIGHT.. a 6th combat brigade has entered the fight.

♦️GAZA CITY TUNNEL DESTROYED.. 800 meter-long and 18 meter-deep tunnel was located close to the Netzarim Corridor, n the Sabra neighbourhood.  Demolished by explosion.

⭕ 3 IRAQ SHIA MILITIA SUICIDE DRONES at EILAT, intercepted.

⭕ NEAR TULKARM, TERRORISTS FIRING AND IED.. shooting attack combined with an explosive device against the Deir al-Hausun checkpoint North of Tulkarm.

⭕ HEZBOLLAH - “WE’RE USING BOMB DROPPING DRONES NOW”.

⭕ 3 ANTI-TANK MISSILES at Shtula.

[optimisticlucio]

Good morning lads, Terrorists broke through the border with automatic weapons and reached some southern Israeli cities. Along with that there’s been missiles launched to everywhere in the country.

If any Israelis are reading this - stay inside and listen to what Pikud Ha’Oref says (the beach of the military tasked specifically with protection of citizens).

[alatabouleau]

Timeline of First Class

So, we all know that the X-Men-Timeline is messed up and people behind it didn't seem to care much, BUT Something that bothers me is that X-Men: First-Class makes you think that its entire plot was maybe at most, like one month or so, when this couldn't be further from the truth. Let me explain. When Charles gives his presentation about mutation at the CIA, he asks them about the "missiles the US is currently placing in Turkey" which makes people there think he's a spy. This references a real-life event which happened at the 1rst of April, 1962. So, this is where we are in the plot. Now, I thought, "Ok, maybe in this universe because of Shaw's meddling, the cuba crisis escalates a lot quicker than that, so instead of October, it maybe happened in July or something" but no. At the end of the Beach-divorce-scene, we hear Kennedy's Thanksgiving speech from 1962, where he states "There is a lot we can be grateful for in these times, especially when thinking about where we standed ONLY FOUR WEEKS AGO." Thanksgiving 1962 was November 22, which means four weeks before lands perfectly with where the actual escalation of the cuba crisis happened, the weekend from Friday, October 26th to Sunday October 28th. Which means that the plot of First Class rolls out not in one month or something, but over HALF A YEAR. That means the Gay-Mutant-Road-trip must have taken several months, because the trip to Russia and its consequences took out pretty concisely over a short period of time. So, yeah, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

[superiorsturgeon]

Somewhat: *relaxing on Ever After beach with Neo* I’m glad you decided to stay around for a bit after ascending, miss Neo!

Neo: *sips tea* 😌

Somewhat: I wonder if we’ll ever see Ruby and the others again?

Neo: *stretches and shrugs*

???: …aaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA-

Neo: *looks up from her tea* ????

Somewhat: Do you hear something?

Jaune: -AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Jaune: *crashes into the sand like a missile, throwing up a cloud of dust*

Jaune: *stands up in crater and brushes himself off* WOW, what a fall!

Neo: !!!!

Somewhat: Rusted Knight! You’re back!!

Jaune: Oh, hey! 😃 Good to see you again! I’ve brought some friends who want to meet you!

Ren/Emerald: *gracefully ninja land*

Nora: *cushions her landing with a grenade, carrying Oscar on her back*

Neo: ?!?!?!

Nora: We had to fight our way through a lot of Grimm and committed some SERIOUS crimes to get access to a vault so we could get here…

Nora: Now WHERE IS THE GIANT BUNNY?! 😠