#Emily the clever engine

[splatooshy]

tvdu headcanons

yes these are completely correct, no i do not take criticism. either compliment me and my clever thoughts or walk away.

damon

- pretends his initials stand for ‘damon fucking salvatore.’

- Humanity isn’t something Damon lacks. He ignores it sometimes, but he did that when he was human too

- shy. so PAINFULLY shy. that didn’t change until post 70s.

- fav colour is jade green.

- born in italy, then lily had multiple miscarriages over 5 years and giuseppe decided they would move to america for better prospects, and stefan was born in mf.

- giuseppe despised anything ‘foreign’, and would lock damon in the cellar when he slipped up. never mind that damon didn’t really know any english.

- named his first horse (a shetland pony) sir handsome. loved his horses. hated people, loved animals.

- bibliophile. brains over brawn.

- gets banned from new orleans every few decades. marcel HATES him. also was in nola in 1914, freya and kol both took pity on him/ befriended damon after he managed to piss off the witches AND marcel in one day.

- always had the most inconvenient crushes as a human. the first was the daughter of some middle class storekeeper when he was eight. the second was emily bennett (his secret bff) and the third was a dude with a horse when he was a teenager. stablehand/riding instructor/ young gent passing through, named sebastian. giuseppe caught the boys fooling around one day and promptly shot sebastian in the head, before beating damon within an inch of his life (WOAH I WROTE THIS SO CASUALLY). damon never fully recovered.

- finds grimoires to bring to his favourite witch at the time. often the spells are super wacky and mostly useless.

- chatty and clingy drunk.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

- in the 30s, he became a professional dancer.

stefan

- fav colour is an icy, glacial blue.

- nobody knows what his first language is. His first few words were either Italian or French, but it’s not certain which one. of course, giuseppe locked damon in the cellar for that.

- first horse was sir handsome, a hand-me-down from damon. loved both people and animals, but most of all loved when damon was introducing him to the animals.

- actually the cutest little child ever. big green eyes and floppy blonde-ish hair. looked like a five-year-old until he was 13? 14? and then suddenly shot up really quick.

- bull in a china shop. brawn over brains.

- the ‘ripper’ was created by lexi. she isolated and abused stefan, manipulating him into whatever she wanted.

- chronic migraine sufferer.

- as a human, he physically could not eat when nervous, which just so happened to be 80% of the time.

- rarely gets drunk but is a very outgoing and slutty drunk.

- lizard brain blood lusty ripper stefan only speaks italian.

- model aeroplane / train / car kind of guy.

- tumbled down into a well twice as a human.

- built the engine for the first automobile, passed it onto henry ford.

enzo

- likes the challenge of getting his way without resorting to compulsion (which is cheating.)

- has the stickiest fingers. he didn’t become a little street urchin in london without picking up some skills.

- turned by jack the ripper in 1888. approached him mid-murder.

- physically incapable of hating damon. and believe me, he’s tried.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

klaus

- went to college a few times to study art. ended up stabbing the teacher [with a paintbrush] because they critiqued his work.

- was tsar nicholas 2 as a joke, purposely ended the dynasty.

elijah

- slipped ecstasy into klaus’ drink in the 80s just to see what would happen.

rebekah

- had a habit of accidentally wandering as a kid.

- clairvoyant / clairsentient.

- very partial to throwing knives.

kol

- bffs with charles 2, gets knighted (inspired by that episode of parks and rec where ben and andy meet the rich british guy)

- refers to stefan as klaus’ estranged paramour

- mixes vervain and wolfsbane into joints and such to get klaus to chill the fuck out. and mixing vervain into other drugs and stuff so that they’d affect him - damon joins the operation in 1914.

- was jack the ripper in 1888, saw a man drowning in his own blood in an alleyway, just watching as kol disemboweled a prostitute, before approaching him like ‘please sir, can you spare any change?’ and kol was delighted.

- damon pissed off marcel in 1914 and kol decided at that moment they were best friends.

- BIG fan of the ottoman empire. it only collapsed because kol was daggered.

- has grimoires full of odd spells.

alaric

- owns vervain coated knuckle dusters

- basically begs damon to talk history with him.

elena

- pre-accident: queen bee and she knew it. at her core, she is self-centred and used to getting her way. this only changes with her parents’ accident, but eventually elena reverts back into her old self.

- refers to katherine as her identical grandmother

[ - bitchy stares. not even an rbf, her face is just super expressive and you can tell when she’s judging you ]

caroline

- was second to elena all her life, and elena knew how to fuel that envy of caroline’s. but then elena’s parents died and caroline was finally #1, except stefan shows up and it’s back to the elena show again.

[ - well-meaning but tone deaf ]

both elena and caroline are just those bitchy popular girls.

[ bonnie ]

[ i have so many for her but a lot are completely against canon so here’s the ones that could be ]

[ - best cheerleader on the squad // the older girls adopted her as their flyer from day 1 ]

[ - because she’s tiny, yanno? ]

[ - known as the ‘i dunno her but she seems nice’ one, the ‘quiet, seems really sweet but i think she hates me’ one and ‘elena’s minion’ ]

[ - but she’s actually more popular overall ‘cause she does all the volunteering / xtra curricular stuff with caroline and she’s not in your face about it ]

[ - has very weirdly specific daily rituals as to what she eats and when on which day (waffle wednesday), what pyjamas she wears, how her pillows are arranged, etc. ]

[ - she didn’t even notice she did all of that until she was at a sleepover and the other kid’s mum made a different breakfast to what she would usually have on that day and bonnie was like ‘hmm. i seem to be uncomfortable with this. why is that?’ but sucked it up and ate her breakfast without saying anything ]

[kenora-pizza]

Musical Musings - TTTE edition, Part 2

ALRIGHT!

My first musical analysis post has been getting a LOT of attention in the past few days or so. So first off, thank you for the love everyone, that was one of my favourite posts to make (besides the crackhead Gordon and Henry shitpost and my "Emily in the middle" rant). Second, since it appears that people like this sorta thing, I figured I'd share a couple more things that I've noticed, one of which I didn't put in the first post cause I figured people had already  noticed it so it didn't need to be said. But I think I'll put it in anyways, just because. So let's get into it!

In pt. 1, I talked about the fact that Henry's theme has an occurrence of "3," in that each of the 4 beats in a bar was a triplet, and how Henry is the number 3 engine. Well, I was listening to his theme again and found two more occurrences of "3" in the introductory bars of the theme. For reference, I am talking about this part:

 Each bar has the following rhythm:

Now, the first occurrence of 3 comes from the fact that the first 3 beats have the same rhythm, as shown in the above image. The second occurrence of 3 comes from the fact that the last beat of the bar is a triplet. 3 notes. Tack on the first occurrence of 3 from the first post, and you're 3 for 3 for NWR no. 3. HMMM........

2. Continuing with the subject of Henry's theme, this observation has probably already been made several times over, but I figured I'd put it in to continue the "Henry's theme" trend. If you take a listen to Henry's sad theme, you'll notice that its repeating motif is part of Henry's main theme in a different, minor, key with a different rhythm and at a slower tempo.

Take a listen.

The opening fragment of Henry's main theme:

The main motif of Henry's sad theme:

And in sheet music:

Henry's theme (Eb major):

Henry's sad theme (B minor):

The numbers indicate the note's position within its scale. As you can see, both themes share the same note pattern. To get Henry's sad theme, you'd transpose the theme down a diminished 4th (i.e, move the notes down by this interval) to B major, and then adjust the D# and G# in the resulting melody to D natural and G natural to fit within the B minor scale so that it sounds sad. Nice job, Mike & Junior, very clever.

Just in case anyone is confused, the notes for the B major & minor scales are shown below:

3. Donald and Douglas' CGI whistles are the notes of C and A respectively. These notes are related in a couple of ways. The first/lowest note on a standard 88-key piano is an A, and the last/highest note is a C. Given the twins' original BR numbers (57646 & 57647 respectively), it appears that Douglas is the younger of the two, so their whistle notes make sense in this context. Additionally, as mentioned in pt. 1, the keys of C major and A minor are related in that they share a key signature of no accidentals (ie, no sharps, flats, double sharps or double flats, yes those last two exist and they gave me hell as a kid). Thus, the whistle notes would make sense in this context.

You'll often see modulation from either C major to A minor or vice versa in classical music. Two contrasting, yet complimentary keys with their own characters and personalities which work well together. Just like Donald and Douglas.

4. I was rewatching some of the season 7 episodes which have Arthur in them. And I think I kinda forgot how fucking huge this guy is. I also noticed just how low his whistle is in comparison to the other tank engines, perhaps emphasizing his bigger size and his more serious attitude in comparison to them.

Whew, this was a long post. I hope you guys enjoy this post as much as you did the last one.

[astralfrontier]

I think I've figured out what I don't like about Star Trek Discovery. But to explain it, I have to talk about what I do like, and where I am - which is midway through Season 2.

First, Michael Burnham, herself, is a good character. She's confident, talented, driven, capable of making mistakes (and makes a very big one at the opening of the show), but also capable of taking big risks and coming out on top. She admits when she's wrong, but she's not afraid to tell other people when they are. For the most part, she's the sort of character we're told Starfleet wants to have as officers.

Second, she's surrounded by interesting oddballs. Stamets is a wonderful academic who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty, and he's got a loving and tender relationship which is a fucking rarity in Starfleet. Tilly is like a visitor from a more mature Lower Decks. And so on. It's really Michael's show, but she's got a good crew around her - some of whom can give her orders.

Third, the ship's concept is really neat. It's a combination flying science labs and black-ops project, like Half-Life's Black Mesa in space.

So I'm still watching the show, because I feel all this potential there, but I sometimes wrestle with it. And here's why.

Every plotline has to orbit Michael Burnham. Most recently, she takes a mentally tortured Vulcan to a planet for help and the point of being on that planet, seemingly, is to just tell her a story about what happened, then see some exposition. That trip could have just happened, she could look angsty while specialists do their work, and then there's a scene of truth if not reconciliation.

But this isn't an isolated case. Just over and over, the writing pushes her to the center of the action. She's got personal connections to every single thing that matters. Some hypothetical time traveler could apparently screw up the Federation for centuries just by messing with her timeline a tiny bit.

The times when this doesn't happen - like when it's Stamets, not her, in a time loop - are so delicious, because she's smart and clever and has this out of context problem thrown at her repeatedly, and she prevails. It's episodes like this that convince me Burnham is a good character independent of the spotlight the writers seem intent on locking onto her 24/7.

(This is also my problem with Voyager - some of the characters there are good, some are meh, a few are fantastic, but MY GOD the writing is like a vampire that just sucks the enjoyment out of watching it)

The show is having wild hate-sex with TOS-era canon. The show really, really wants to remind you that it's the immediate prequel to TOS. Like look, here's Captain Pike, here's Spock, there's the Enterprise, but we're also going to drop this multiversal mushroom network on you out of NOWHERE, we're going to a lot of stuff with Klingons, we're just doing all this wild shit.

I'm glad they're swinging for the fences though. The Sphere is probably the most impactful encounter they have in Season 2 in terms of its story impacts, and it's just such a wonderful TOS-era thing. There's this big weird object in space, there's literally nothing like it anywhere else, it's dangerous but not malicious, we're going to pit Federation ingenuity against the puzzle it represents, and we're going to have a good outcome if we're lucky.

The show sure likes to sleep on its ensemble. I love Saru and Stamets and Tilly, but I wish we'd heard more about that weird cyborg lady, Airiam, who's on the bridge before she's under it. They dropped TIG NOTARO on us as a sassy engineer, give her more love. Detmer clearly has a ton of emotion she's processing. I want to see her actress, Emily Coutts, in more stuff. It feels like they almost put in too many characters and then shone spotlight on the same few all the time, and then would pull others from their back pocket for moments of drama.

All of these things are why I'm looking forward to Season 3, where it seems the writers hit the reset button on a lot of this and are trying something new. I don't know if it'll be a better new, but it'll solve the problems Season 1-2 have given me. And I want to see what Strange New Worlds does.

[daikenkki]

We all have different roles to play, but when we work together, we're the best team ever! We're called the Steam Team because we're all steam engines. We live at Tidmouth Sheds on the Island of Sodor, so let's meet the team! James is the number 5 red engine. He's funny, although he knows it, and can be a bit of a show-off. He's always talking about his splendid shiny red paint which is fair, as it is red and shiny, but it's not as splendid as being blue! Then there's my best friend, Percy. He's the kindest, sweetest engine you'll ever meet! Percy is green with the number 6 on his side. Percy can worry too much, but he's the most trustworthy friend anyone could wish for. One of my newest friends is Nia, who's from Kenya in Africa. She's a tank engine like me, she's orange and has a beautiful pattern painted on the sides. Nia is a great friend and she loves working with the team! Gordon is blue like me and wears the number 4 on his tender. Tenders are where bigger engines keep their coal and water because they don't have tanks like tank engines. Gordon's a big and fast engine and he pulls the Express coaches. He can be grumpy sometimes, but maybe it's because he's not as useful as me! Someone who can cheer even Gordon up is our new friend Rebecca from the Mainland, and is the newest member of the Steam Team. She's painted a bright sunshine yellow which matches her sunny outlook on life. Rebecca makes everyone feel good! Finally, there's Emily the emerald green engine. She doesn't have a number, but that's not something she worries about. Emily is clever and thoughtful, and a Really Useful Engine. So there you have it… hang on, I forgot about me, Thomas! I'm the seventh member of the Steam Team, but I'm the number 1. That must make me the leader! Don't tell Gordon… no, I'm just being cheeky. No one's the leader, we're all equal and we make a great team!

[demyankurnosoff]

Omen IV: Millenium | Materials of D.E.L.I.A. (4-5.1)

I'm still sitting in my office, piled high with files, trying to sort through another batch of papers from Earl Knight. Honestly, the guy is possessed, going through old files like he's looking for the philosopher's stone. Now I have the case of Alexander Martin, the kid from Toronto, and damn, I don't understand why Earl even dragged Canada into this. We're digging into child deaths in the States, and he's dragged some Canadian kid into this. But reading through his notes, letters, and telegrams, I'm beginning to realize that this lead is not just there. Alexander, like Laura and Isaac, died of some atypical crap, and Earl seemed to notice something that connected them all. I fished out details from his letters, telegrams from the Toronto Police Department, and conversations with neighbors, the guardian's girlfriends, and the kid's peers. It's like a puzzle where half the pieces are missing, but it still gives you goosebumps.

Biography of Alexander Martin, Toronto, Canada Based on letters from Earl Knight, Toronto police telegrams, interviews with neighbours, caregiver's friends and peers, 1990-2000

Alexander Martin was born on March 15, 1990, in Toronto, Ontario, in the Scarborough area of gray high-rises interspersed with neat lawns and Tim Hortons signs. His mother, Emily Martin, 24, died in childbirth from hemorrhaging before Mount Sinai Hospital could save her. His father, Jean Martin, a French-Canadian electrical engineer, died of leukemia in 1994, when Alexander was four. His stepmother, Ruth Lavoie, 38, a fanatical member of the Children of Light cult, took custody of him and lived in a modest bungalow on the outskirts of Scarborough. Ruth's house was littered with brochures on "spiritual awakening," smelled of incense, and in the evenings she sang hymns with her cult friends while Alexander hid in his room with hockey cards.

Note from David S.: Toronto? Seriously, Earl? We're digging through Houston and Miami files, and you're dragging a kid from Canada. Why? I read his letter to Elizabeth Crowe, dated March 20, 2000, and he says he found Alexander's file through a contact in the Canadian police, an Inspector LeClair. He sent a telegram with a brief description: "Boy, age 9, spinal sarcoma, diagnosis unclear, died February 2000." Earl noticed the coincidence of the age and the oddity of the diagnosis, like Laura and Isaac. But why is he so hung up on it? Maybe because Alexander is the last in the chain, and Earl thinks he's the key?

Alexander grew up in the shadow of Ruth's strict rules. She forbade television, considering it "a vessel of sin," but Alexander would secretly watch hockey games on a small black-and-white set owned by a neighbour, Mr Campbell. At school, Satec Public School, he was quiet, but teachers noted his cleverness at mathematics. A teacher, Mr Paul Graham, recalled in an interview with police in February 2000: "Alex was thin, pale, but intelligent. He liked to draw geometric shapes in his notebook - circles, spirals, like some kind of code." His peers, Josh Reed, 10, the son of a butcher, and Michael Chen, 9, the son of a china shop owner, were his only friends. They called him "Hockey" because Alexander dreamed of playing for the Toronto Maple Leafs, but Ruth forbade the sport, considering it "vanity of the flesh." Josh said (Knight interview, March 2000): "Alex would hide hockey cards under his bed, especially Mats Sundin's. We would play hockey outside when Ruth wasn't looking, but he would get tired quickly and hold his back."

Note from David S.: Hockey cards and spirals in a notebook? Looks like the kid was trying to escape this cult life into his dreams. But what did Earl see in this case? LeClair's telegram says: "Alexander's symptoms are similar to American cases - atypical tumor, age 9-10." Earl writes in a letter to Elizabeth that he was wary of Ruth's cult - he thought maybe they were poisoning the kid with something. But that's crazy, right?

Ruth Lavoie took Alexander to Children of the Light meetings in the basement of her home, where fellow cult members Madeleine Dubois, 45, and Sophie Leboeuf, 33, sang hymns and waved candles. Madeleine, a former nurse fired for stealing medication, claimed that "light heals" and made Alexander drink herbal tea with mint and mugwort. Sophie, a flower stall owner, taught him to "pray to snakes" by holding harmless snakes. Neighbours, Scarborough purists like John and Martha Campbell, 60 and 58, condemned Ruth. Martha told police in January 2000: "This woman is crazy. She took a boy to her meetings and he looked sick. We offered to take him to a doctor, but she screamed that God himself would save him." John added: "Alex was like a shadow, pale, hunched over, as if he were carrying a sack of bricks. We prayed for him, but Ruth rejected our faith."

Note from David S.: Cultists with snakes? What kind of circus is this? Earl writes in his notes that he checked the Children of Light through LeClair - the cult is registered, but under investigation for "animal rituals". He thinks that herbs or snakes could have influenced Alexander's illness, but that's nonsense, right? Although, if Laura and Isaac also had strange symptoms… Maybe Earl is not such a psycho to connect all this?

From 1998 (Alexander was 8 years old) teachers noticed that he began to complain of back pain. Mr Graham recalled: "He would sit in class holding his lower back, saying his back was 'on fire'. I thought he had pulled a muscle, but he was hunched over more and more." Josh and Michael said that Alexander had stopped playing hockey in the street and would just watch them rollerblade, wincing in pain. Madeleine Dubois testified in February 2000 that "prayers were healing him", but Sophie Leboeuf admitted to police: "Alex was weak, coughing, and Ruth said it was the devil testing him." Neighbours of the Campbells noticed that in his last months Alexander looked "like an old man": his skin was grey, his eyes were sunken, his hair was falling out in clumps. Martha Campbell said: "He was like a ghost, walking, leaning against the fence, muttering something as if he was praying to himself."

Note from David S.: Mumbling like Laura? Is that a coincidence? Earl wrote to LeClair (March 15, 2000): "Alexander's symptoms - paleness, hair loss, muttering - are almost identical to Laura Smith. This is not a coincidence." He requested medical records through the Canadian police, and LeClair confirmed that the diagnosis of "atypical sarcoma" matches the American cases. But why Toronto? Earl thinks geography doesn't matter as long as the pathology is the same. Hell, maybe he's right?

In July 1999, Ruth Lavoie died during a Children of Light ritual. According to the police report (July 10, 1999), she had been handling poisonous snakes (rattlesnakes, smuggled in from Mexico) and had been bitten multiple times. She died at 10:30 p.m. from anaphylactic shock. Alexander, who was present at the ritual, was in shock; Madeleine Dubois called an ambulance, but it was too late. The police took Alexander to his cousin, Julie Lavoie, 22, a student at the University of Toronto. Julie, unlike Ruth, was an atheist and immediately noticed that something was wrong with Alexander. She told the police (January 2000): "He could barely walk, he was holding his back, his eyes were cloudy, like a sick dog. I made him go to the doctor even though he was scared."

Note from David S.: Snakes? This is not a cult, but a madhouse. Earl writes in his notes that Ruth's death alarmed him - too strange a coincidence with other guardians who died absurdly (crane, guillotine). He asked Leclerc for information about the ritual, and he sent a telegram: "Cult under investigation, snakes are contraband, the boy was a witness." Earl thinks that the trauma of Ruth's death could have worsened Alexander's illness. But I don't believe it - it's not stress, it's something physical, like Laura.

Alexander was admitted to SickKids Hospital in Toronto on January 10, 2000, after Julie found him lying on the floor of his room, unable to stand. Paramedics arrived at 9:15 a.m., according to a Toronto police report. An initial examination (Dr. Alan Cohen, orthopedic surgeon) revealed severe spinal deformity, muscle loss, and hypotension (blood pressure 85/55). Nurse Emma Lee noted, "The patient's skin is pale, with a gray-green tint, hair loss, pupils dilated, and poor reactivity to light." Julie told doctors that Alexander complained of "fire in his back" and saw "bright flashes" before his eyes. A CT scan (GE Medical, 1998) showed a large mass in the thoracic spine with abnormal calcifications and necrotic areas. Diagnosis: "atypical sarcoma of the spine." Biopsy performed on January 12 (drugs: fentanyl, propofol) revealed tissue with an irregular cellular structure. Pathologist Dr. Susan Wong wrote: "Cells are polymorphic, mitotic index is high (11 mitoses per field), markers (ALP, RUNX2) are partially present, but not consistent with standard sarcomas."

Note from David S.: Gray-green skin, flashes in eyes? Much like Laura with her "transparent skin" and mumbling. Earl in a letter to Elizabeth (March 20, 2000) writes: "Alexander's symptoms are identical to the American cases - paleness, abnormal growths. This is not a coincidence." He found the case through LeClair, who put him in touch with SickKids. A telegram from February 25, 2000 confirms: "Diagnosis unclear, similarities to U.S." Earl is right - this is not just a coincidence, but what the hell is it?

Alexander was given dexamethasone and morphine, but his condition worsened. On 10 February 2000, he went into a coma after a series of seizures. He died at 3:10 a.m. on 15 February 2000 from respiratory failure, caused, according to the autopsy (Dr. Wong, 16 February), by "an unspecified pathological process". The funeral was arranged by Julie in Scarborough, at St. John's Norway Cemetery. The Campbells' neighbours attended, but, in Martha's words, "prayed for his soul, not for Ruth, that godless woman". Josh and Michael left a Mats Sundin hockey card at the grave.

Note from David S.: Earl has found the key to this case, and I'm beginning to understand why he's so hung up on Alexander. LeClair's letter (March 15, 2000) and the hospital telegram confirm: the diagnosis is "atypical sarcoma" and the symptoms (paleness, hair loss, muttering) are identical to Laura and Isaac. Earl writes that the acronym D.E.L.I.A. began to form when he found Alexander - his "A" fit into the puzzle. But I'm still shocked: how did he connect Canada with the States? It's not his jurisdiction. Maybe he's just obsessed, or is there something more to it?

Neighbors gathered outside Julie's home after Alexander's death, demanding answers. John Campbell told police, "We knew the boy was sick, but Ruth drove him to the grave with her prayers and snakes." Madeleine Dubois, on the other hand, blamed the doctors: "They didn't save him, and God was calling him to himself." Julie, shocked, said, "I tried to pull him out of that cult, but it was too late. He was like a candle that had burned out." Earl wrote in his notes, "Alexander is part of a chain. His death, like the others, is not accidental. The cult, the symptoms, the diagnosis - it all fits together."

Note from David S.: Earl is like Sherlock Holmes for finding this connection. But I'm sitting here thinking: are we now dragging Canada into the D.E.L.I.A. project? Someone up there probably decided that this is a great way to spend the budget on coffee and microscopes. And here I am digging into the life of a dead kid and feeling like I'm in a morgue. This isn't science, it's some kind of necrophilia.

Honestly, I'm starting to think this guy isn't just a cop with bad handwriting, but some kind of obsessive ghost hunter. Now I have the tissue report from Alexander Martin, the kid from Toronto, and I'm wondering: what the hell is the "D" in their acronym D.E.L.I.A.? Laura, Isaac, Eliza, Alexander - they all add up, but the "D"? Empty, like my wallet after a weekend. And here's another surprise: Alexander's specimens are from Canada, not the States, and their delivery to our institute is a whole saga, as if we were stealing a secret weapon from the Pentagon. Plus, my fellow scientists, as always, are making a circus with microscopes, looking for "unusualness" in Alexander's cells, which, according to them, eclipses even that mysterious first "D" specimen. Well, at least some entertainment in this morgue.

Obtaining Alexander Martin's specimens for the D.E.L.I.A. project Based on letters from Earl Knight, Toronto police cables and internal institute memos, April 2000

Alexander Martin's tissue specimens (specimen A, Toronto, born March 15, 1990, died February 15, 2000) were delivered to our biomedical institute in New York on April 10, 2000, a month before Elizabeth Crowe dumped the papers on me for the "clean" report. Honestly, I still don't understand how they got to us in the first place - this was not a scientific request, but a real spy operation. Earl Knight, that tireless detective, started by contacting Inspector Jean LeClair of the Toronto police in March 2000. In a letter to Elizabeth Crowe (March 20, 2000), Earl wrote: "The Alexander Martin case is the key to the chain. Symptoms, diagnosis, age - all match Laura, Isaac and Eliza. But Canada is not the States, and getting the tissue was like pulling teeth from a bear." LeClair sent a telegram (February 25, 2000): "Specimens at SickKids Hospital, restricted access, Ontario Health Authority approval required."

Note from David S.: Canada? Seriously, Earl? We're dealing with Houston and Miami, and you're lugging specimens across the border? I thought our budget was bursting at the seams, and now we're dealing with Canadian bureaucracy. I read Caroline Moore's memo from April 5, 2000: she practically foamed at the mouth about the "astronomical" shipping cost. No wonder Mrs. Moore is pissed as a hornet - she probably blew her entire budget on those Canadian fabrics. Haha, I can just picture her yelling at Elizabeth for wasting money!

The delivery of the specimens turned into a quest worthy of a cheap thriller. Earl first requested access to the tissues at SickKids through LeClair, but the Canadian doctors took a stand: "Data privacy, federal laws, blah blah blah." LeClair specified in a telegram (February 28, 2000) that the Ontario Ministry of Health required written consent from the guardian (Julie Lavoie, Alexander's cousin) and approval from the ethics committee. Julie signed the permission on March 3, but the committee dragged it out until March 15, citing "international jurisdiction." Earl, not giving up, involved his contacts in the FBI, who put pressure on the Canadian police through an agreement on cross-border data exchange (NAFTA helped, who would have thought). Caroline Moore complained in a memo (April 5, 2000): "The negotiations with Canada cost us $12,000 in legal advice and transportation. These are not specimens, they are gold bars." The tissues (vertebral bone fragments, 1.3 cm and 0.8 cm) were finally shipped in an armored container by courier from Toronto to New York as if they were a nuclear warhead. They arrived on April 10, accompanied by two RCMP agents who, according to rumors, even searched our institute for "spies."

Note from David S.: $12,000 for a few bits of bone? Are we the CIA now? Caroline must be tearing her hair out - her budget is bursting, and we are messing around with Canadian specimens. But Earl wrote in a letter to LeClair (March 15, 2000) that "Canada seems to have a D.E.L.I.A. too, only they are lagging behind - we have more specimens." Ha, that's American hubris! If the Canadians have a "D.E.L.I.A.," we have more dead babies than them. Bravo, Earl, that's definitely worth a medal.

Alexander Martin's tissue analysis for the D.E.L.I.A. project Based on laboratory reports from the Biomedical Institute, April-May 2000 Alexander Martin's tissue specimens (specimen A, Toronto, died February 15, 2000) - fragments of vertebral bone (1.3 cm and 0.8 cm), removed during biopsy (January 12, 2000) and autopsy (February 16, 2000) at SickKids Hospital - were analyzed at our institute in April - May 2000. The study was performed using a Nikon Eclipse E400 microscope, a Beckman J-6B centrifuge, and a Perkin-Elmer Lambda 2 spectrophotometer, using histological and immunohistochemical methods. The purpose was to compare specimen A with specimens L (Laura Smith), I (Isaac Brown), E (Eliza Johnson), and the mysterious specimen D, about which I still know nothing except that it is "the earliest" and "the strangest."

Note from David S.: Is Specimen D the Holy Grail? Mark T. always hints at it like it's the key to everything, but never gives any specifics. I sit here rewriting their reports and wonder: If "D" is so important, why didn't anyone tell me? Or is this just another story to justify our budget to the FBI?

Histological examination revealed a neoplasm classified as sarcoma atipica, with even more "strangeness" than in specimen D, according to Mark T. The cells showed proliferatio cellularis abnormis with an extremely high mitotic index (up to 13 mitoses per high power field), polymorphic nuclei and extensive areas of necrosis focalis. Immunohistochemistry (markers ALP, RUNX2, Ki-67) showed partial expression, but no typical tumor markers such as MDM2 or ALK, characteristic of sarcomas. Mark T. wrote in his report (April 20, 2000): "Specimen A is like an evolution of specimen D. The anomalies are more pronounced, as if nature tried to build something and failed again." Linda Hayes added: "Alexander's cells are behaving as if they want to rewrite the cancer textbook, but we don't know what they're trying to do."

Note from David S.: "Evolution of Specimen D"? Mark, are you Darwin now? Before, he called Laura and Isaac "unusual," and now Alexander is the star of anomalies. What, we had normal tumors before? Ha, it's funny how they're blowing this "unusualness" out of proportion, like we've found an alien. And I'm sitting here thinking: maybe this is just a glitch in their microscope?

Comparison with other D.E.L.I.A. specimens showed that specimen A resembled L, I, and E: all showed dysplasia cellularis and irregular cell clusters, but Alexander had more angiogenesis aberrans (abnormal vascularization) than Eliza and a more chaotic cell structure than Laura and Isaac. A Perkin-Elmer Lambda 2 spectrophotometer recorded absorption spectra that did not match any known sarcoma, with peaks that Linda called "almost cosmic." Elizabeth Crowe noted in her report (April 25, 2000): "Specimen A confirms the pattern of abnormalities, but its 'weirdness' exceeds even that of specimen D. This provides no answers, only more questions."

Note from David S.: "Space" spectra? Linda, put down your coffee and stop watching The X-Files. Seriously, they keep talking about this "weirdness" as if we had normal tumors before Alexander. What's with the "D"? Why won't anyone tell me what this specimen is? It's like a puzzle where the key piece is hidden and I have to write a report for Caroline, who's yelling about the budget.

An attempt to detect mutational activity (activitas mutativa) in Alexander's cells was made in May 2000. The cells were removed from paraffin (enzymatic dissociation: trypsin, collagenase), placed in Petri dishes with DMEM culture medium and FBS serum, mixed with rat cells (line PC12). Conditions: 37°C, 5% CO₂, Thermo Forma incubator. Observation was carried out for 96 hours using a Nikon Eclipse E400 microscope. The result? As with Laura, a complete zero. Alexander's cells showed carcinoma in situ with polymorphic nuclei, but did not induce either proliferation or differentiation in the rat cells. Mark T. was furious: "These are not just cells, they are a mystery! They must do something, but something is blocking them." Linda suggested, "Maybe we can't see the mutation because our equipment is junk from the 90s?"

Note from David S.: Linda, finally the truth! Our spectrophotometer is glitching like my old Commodore 64, and they expect us to find alien DNA code. Mark again about the "mystery" - dude, this is not Sherlock Holmes, these are just dead cells. Still, if Alexander is "more unusual" than specimen D, why haven't we found anything? Maybe the Canadians are also digging around in their D.E.L.I.A. and laughing at us?

Elizabeth Crowe concluded (April 30, 2000): "Specimen A, like L, I, E, indicates a unique pathology, but without DNA sequencing we are at a dead end. Getting it from Canada was a feat, but the results were not worth the expense." The committee decided to hold off on testing on specimen A until new equipment became available, which, judging by Caroline's whining about the budget, was not coming soon.

Note from David S.: A feat? Ha, Caroline is probably still counting every penny she spent on that Canadian quest. I can just picture her yelling at Elizabeth, "$12,000 for bones that don't do anything?" And Earl must have known Alexander was the key, since he fought so hard for those specimens. But the "D" in D.E.L.I.A.? I'm still confused. Maybe this is just Earl's joke and we're scratching our heads here?

Coffee doesn't help anymore, my head is buzzing, as if someone turned on an old modem with its beeping. While I was rewriting the report on Alexander Martin, I kept trying to figure out what the hell the "D" in their acronym D.E.L.I.A. means. I decided to read coffee grounds, since science is clearly giving up here. Maybe the "D" stands for Devil? Well, then this whole project is the devil's machinations, and we, scientists, are just pawns in some hellish game. Or Demon? That also fits: these atypical tumors are like an evil spirit that eludes microscopes and laughs at us. Or maybe Dirt? Because this whole story with dead children smacks of grave soil, and rewriting reports makes me feel like a gravedigger. Or, damn it, Dummy? Because, frankly, this whole project is a load of crap, a piece of science theater where we pretend to be looking for answers but are really just wasting Caroline Moore's money. But thinking about "D" led me to the beginning of it all: Delia York, the first victim of this damned series. Her case, the oldest, sits before me, and as I read it, I can't help but think that Earl Knight had a thing for her. Not just a detective, but a man who was so taken with this girl that he dug deeper until he put the whole acronym together.

Biography of Delia York, New York, USA Based on letters from Earl Knight, police reports, medical records and interviews with neighbors, 1981-1991

Delia York was born on May 20, 1981, in the Bronx, New York, to a family that seemed doomed from the start. Her father, Gene York, 35, worked as a pharmacist at a local drugstore, bringing home expired headache tablets that he apparently used to relieve his nerves. Her mother, Karen York, 32, was unemployed, with a head full of strange ideas about "spiritual cleansing" that she sought in cheap sanatoriums. Delia was born after her parents spent the summer of 1980 in a seedy sanatorium outside New York, where Karen, in her words, "looked for the light." A police report (1991) and Earl Knight's writings describe them as a family on the brink: Gene drank, Karen threw tantrums, and Delia, a little girl with wide eyes, always seemed to be somewhere else.

Note from David S.: Sanitarium? Did Karen think the hot tubs there would make her a saint? Reading Earl's notes, I get the feeling he saw Delia as more than just a victim. In a letter to his friend, Detective Roy Carter (April 10, 1991), he writes, "That girl, Delia, looked at me like she knew she was going to die. I can't forget that." He cared, that's a fact. It was because of her that he started digging, like it was personal.

Until she was eight, Delia lived in a cramped Bronx apartment where the wallpaper smelled of damp and Santa Barbara was on TV. She was quiet, and liked to draw flowers and dogs in notebooks her father bought her. In 1989, the family suddenly moved to a cottage in Queens-a neighbor, Mrs. Rosalie Garcia, 60, told police in March 1991: "Gene said he inherited something, but I don't believe him. Where did they get the money for a house?" At PS 112, Delia befriended Jerome Creighton, a 10-year-old boy who taught her to ride a bike, and Josephine Thueson, a 20-year-old neighbor who had a shaggy dog named Ryder. Josephine, according to neighbors, was "a weird girl," wearing brightly colored scarves and smoking pot, but Delia became attached to her. Jerome recalled in his testimony (April 1996): "Delia said she wanted to run away with Ryder to California, where it was always sunny." Reading this, my heart sank - the girl dreamed of simple things, and life was falling apart around her.

Note from David S.: Run away to California with a dog? Poor kid. Earl writes in his notes (March 15, 1991) that Delia reminded him of his younger sister, who died of leukemia as a child. Was he seeing a ghost of his past in her? No wonder he was so invested in her case.

In the summer of 1989, things went downhill. Delia and Josephine went to the apartment of Josephine's friend Noah, a 25-year-old musician who played in a local rock band. There, Delia experienced her first period-early, at age eight, shocking her parents. Gene and Karen, confused, accused Noah of abuse. The police, led by Earl's friend Roy Carter, arrested Josephine for "corruption of minors"-an absurd charge, but in the Bronx in the 1980s, no one really cared. Josephine got 18 years in prison, and Delia withdrew into herself, blaming herself for her friend's arrest. Mrs. Garcia recalled: "After that, Delia stopped smiling. She sat on the porch with a notebook, drawing black flowers." Earl wrote in his notes (April 10, 1991): "I saw her then, thin, with eyes like a hunted animal. If I could save her…"

Note from David S.: 18 years for nothing? This is the Bronx, baby, and justice is blind and deaf. Earl, in a letter to Elizabeth Crowe (March 20, 2000), mentions that the Josephine case haunted him - he knew she was innocent, but he couldn't prove anything. It was because of Delia that he began looking for other cases, as if to atone for his guilt.

In 1991, Delia's life finally fell apart. In January, Gene was in an accident - a truck flattened his car at an intersection in Queens, and he lost his leg. Karen, seeing her husband in the hospital, could not stand it. On March 10, 1991, she, right in front of Delia, shot herself in the head with Gene's old revolver. Earl Knight was at the scene, called by the police. In the report (March 11, 1991) he wrote: "Girl, 10, in shock, repeating: 'Mommy, don't.' Blood on her dress, eyes empty." The police took Delia to a shelter, but within a day they noticed that she was bleeding profusely. At Bellevue Hospital, a gynecologist, Dr. Hastings, examined her and diagnosed "atypical uterine sarcoma" - a tumor that looked like cancer, but with cells that he called "unidentifiable." Biopsy (March 14, 1991, drugs: lidocaine, midazolam) showed polymorphic cells with a high mitotic index (9 mitoses per field), but without typical tumor markers. Delia died on March 15, 1991 after surgery from massive bleeding. The burial took place in a cemetery in Queens, paid for by a charity. Gene, still in the hospital, was not present.

Note from David S.: Suicide in front of a child? That's like a scene from a nightmare. Earl wrote to Roy (April 10, 1991): "I can't forget her eyes. She looked at me like she was asking for help, and I did nothing." Man, Earl, you really got yourself into this for personal reasons. No wonder you dug deeper until you found Laura, Isaac, Eliza, and Alexander. But why Delia? Because she was the first? Or because you saw her as your sister?

I read these papers and I feel sick. Delia was just a kid who wanted to draw flowers and play with her dog, and life hit her like a hammer. Neighbors like Mrs. Garcia said, "She was an angel, but everything was falling apart around her." Jerome Creighton, a high school friend, recalled (police interview, April 1996): "Delia loved to tell stories about the stars, like they were alive. She didn't deserve that." And I sit here and think: How did Earl even stand it? He saw her the day Karen shot herself, and it must have broken something in him. His notes are full of pain - he writes about Delia as if she were his daughter. Maybe that's why he put together the acronym, D.E.L.I.A., starting with her? But I still don't understand what the "D" in this puzzle is. The devil, the demon, the filth, the empty? Or just Delia, the girl who made Earl seek the truth? I'm rewriting these reports, but I feel like I'm digging in a grave, and it makes me want to just get up and walk away.

Note from David S.: Earl, you clearly cared about her. In a letter to Elizabeth (March 20, 2000), you write, "Delia is the beginning of everything. Her death is a signal I can't ignore." Dude, you made this a personal mission. But what were you looking for? An answer to her death, or forgiveness for not saving her? And here I am, in 2000, wondering if this project really is a scam and we're just stalling for time until Caroline shuts us down for going over budget.

My head is pounding like someone is hammering at it as I try to piece together the puzzle Earl Knight left us with his D.E.L.I.A. series. Ever since the report on Delia York, I've been wondering: What the hell possessed that detective to get so caught up in her case? He clearly saw her as more than just a victim, and his notes, which I found in yet another folder, only confirm that. Earl visited her grave, spoke to Josephine Thueson in prison, even tracked down Jerome Creighton years later. Reading his notes, I'm torn between sympathy for Delia, the little girl whose life was like broken glass, and irritation with Earl, who seems to have made a personal crusade out of it. And yet, the more I dig, the more I feel like this story is like grave soil that sticks to your hands and you can't wash it off.

Earl Knight Investigates: Delia York Based on notes by Earl Knight, police reports, interviews with Josephine Thueson (1991) and Jerome Creighton (1996), April 1991 - March 1996

Earl Knight, a detective with the eyes of a whipped dog, began his investigation at Delia York's grave. In his notes for March 20, 1991, five days after her death, he writes: "Queens Cemetery, Section 12, Row 8. Delia's grave is just a mound of dirt, no stone, just a wooden cross with her name on it. The wind whistles like in a horror movie. I stood there thinking, How did a ten-year-old girl end up like this?" Earl records that he brought a white lily to the grave, an odd gesture for a cop who had seen hundreds of deaths. He describes looking at her name carved into the cross and feeling like he had to find an answer. Not just her death, but why her life was like that: a disabled father, a mother who shot herself in front of her, and this stupid thing with Josephine, who got 18 years for nothing.

Note from David S.: A lily on a grave? Earl, are you a romantic? I read his notes and his sentimentality sickens me, but at the same time… Hell, I get it. The girl who drew flowers and dreamed of California died in the hospital, like the world was going to kill her. But why is he so hung up on it? It's just a case, one of many. Or is it?

A week after the funeral, on March 28, 1991, Earl drove to Bedford Hills Women's Prison, where Josephine Thueson was being held. She was serving time for "corruption of minors," a charge that, it is now clear, was trumped up. Earl describes her in his interview (March 28, 1991): "Josephine, 20, thin, long dark hair, looks like a teenager in her prison uniform. Her eyes are red, not from crying, but from fatigue. She speaks softly, but angrily." Josephine said that she and Delia were just friends. "We read books - she loved 'Treasure Island,' she liked to pretend she was a pirate. We listened to records - Bob Dylan, 'Blowin' in the Wind,' she sang. We played with Ryder, my dog, threw a stick at him in the yard. Nothing more, I swear." When Earl asked why she was in jail, Josephine shrugged, "I don't know. Her parents thought I or Noah had touched her. Delia cried, said it wasn't true, but no one listened. They wanted a scapegoat, and I was there." Earl wrote, "She's not lying. I saw her eyes, and there was only pain and anger. This case was a mistake, and Delia paid for it."

Note from David S.: Josephine is a victim of the system, just like Delia. I sit here and think: How could this screw up so badly? Put a girl in jail for reading books and playing with a dog? Earl knew it was crazy, but he couldn't do anything about it. And that pisses me off, because he's a cop, not a savior. But at the same time… I wish I could fix something like that. Man, this whole thing is like a knife in the heart.

In April 1996, five years after Delia's death, Earl tracked down Jerome Creighton, a high school sweetheart who was then 17. Jerome lived in the Bronx, worked part-time at an auto body shop, and, according to the transcript (April 15, 1996), was reluctant to talk about his past. Earl describes him as "tall, skinny, long hair, like a rocker. Nervous, smokes unfiltered Camels." Jerome said Delia had a crush on him: "She hung around all the time, bringing me drawings of her-flowers, stars, stuff. She'd write me notes like, 'You're cool, Jerome.' But she wasn't my type, you know? Skinny as a Chihuahua, always with these big eyes like a puppy. I didn't text her back, I was just friends. I thought she'd grow out of it." He hesitated when Earl asked about her illness: "She would complain about her stomach sometimes, say it hurt. I thought it was just a girl thing. And then her mother… well, you know. After that, she just shut down." Earl noted: "Jerome blames himself, but he doesn't talk about it. He remembers Delia, but he doesn't want to dig into the past."

Note from David S.: Chihuahua? Seriously, Jerome? This girl loved you and you turned her down because she wasn't your type? I'm sitting here mad at this kid for not caring about her feelings. But at the same time, he was a kid, 10 years old, what could he do? And yet, reading this makes me want to scream: Why didn't anyone help Delia? Earl, you went to her grave, talked to Josephine, interrogated Jerome, and what? All you found was pain. And now I'm sitting here with your papers feeling like I'm drowning in this mud.

Reading these notes tears me up. On one hand, I see Delia, the little girl who dreamed of California, loved her dog Ryder, drew stars, and fell in love with some kid who compared her to a Chihuahua. It breaks your heart, knowing she was just a kid and the world was a grinder around her. On the other hand, I'm angry at Earl. Why did he bother? He went to her grave, as if that would change anything. He talked to Josephine, who's behind bars on stupid charges. He interrogated Jerome, who just wanted to forget. Earl made it personal, and now, rewriting his reports, I feel complicit. This story isn't just about atypical sarcoma. It's about a girl who was left unsaved, and a detective who can't forgive himself for it. And me? I'm just sitting here writing, trying not to think that the "D" in D.E.L.I.A. is not just Delia, but something more. The devil? Dirt? A dummy? Or just the pain we all carry around with us, like Earl carried his lily to her grave.

Note from David S.: Earl, did you really think you could find answers? I read your notes and it seems to me that you were looking not for truth, but for redemption. Delia is dead, Josephine is in prison, Jerome is alive, and you go to the cemetery and write as if that will bring her back. And here I am, in 2000, thinking: this project is like a grave we keep digging into and finding nothing but dirt. Maybe Caroline is right and it's time to call it a day.

I've just finished my report on Delia York, and there on my desk is a letter from Earl, dated late April 2000. It came to Elizabeth Crowe a couple of months before I started writing this "final copy," and, damn, it's like a punch to the gut. It's drenched in longing, as if Earl had written it staring into the abyss, like some Dostoevsky with a revolver instead of a pen. And then I found the newspaper clipping, and everything I thought about Earl came crashing down. This man wasn't just digging into Delia's past; he was ramming his life, like a car, straight into the abyss. And I sit there, in shock, angry at Delia, at Earl, at all of us, because he dumped his burden on the institute, on Mark, on me, as if we could clean up this mess.

Earl Knight's letter, April 28, 2000 Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, and Caroline Moore.

I'm writing this because I can't stay silent anymore. I've been carrying this weight for nine years, and it's crushing me. Delia York is more than just a name in your acronym D.E.L.I.A.. She was the girl who looked at me when her mother shot herself and I did nothing. I saw her eyes, empty as death, before she died in the hospital. I dug into her file, then I found Laura, Isaac, Eliza, Alexander - all these children who were not saved. I looked for justice, but all I found was dirt. Every case, every report, every visit to Delia's grave is like a knife I'm stabbing myself.

You scientists, with your microscopes and your graphs, think you can find the answers. But I know the truth: there are no answers, only questions that burn like fire. I have suffered too much trying to understand why these children died, why their caregivers died in such absurd ways - suicides, cranes, snakes. This is not an accident, but I am tired of searching. I am handing it over to you - my notes, my transcripts, my pain. You, Elizabeth, with your skepticism, Mark with your cynicism, Linda with your mistakes, Richard with your arrogance, and you, Caroline, with your budget - take it. Find the truth, if there is one. I can't take it anymore. Justice is a mirage, and I am tired of chasing it.

Note from David S.: Earl, are you serious? Is this your farewell letter? You sound like Raskolnikov, who killed the old lady and now feels sorry for himself. I'm sitting here reading this and shaking - you dumped this whole nightmare on us, like we were wizards with microscopes. But at the same time… I see your pain. Delia broke you, and I don't know how to blame you.

Newspaper clipping: New York Post, April 30, 2000 "Queensboro Bridge Tragedy: Detective Rams Doctor, Drowns"

On the evening of April 29, 2000, tragedy struck the Queensboro Bridge. A man identified as Earl Knight, 45, an NYPD detective, intentionally rammed a 1996 Ford Taurus into a pedestrian, Dr. Lou Hastings, 52, a gynecologist at Bellevue Hospital. Hastings died instantly from multiple injuries. After the collision, Knight's car crashed through the bridge's guardrail and fell into the East River. Both bodies were recovered by rescuers at 10:45 p.m. Police said Knight left a note addressed to co-workers, but its contents have not been released. Investigators are considering a personal vendetta: Hastings had operated on a 10-year-old girl whose case Knight was investigating in 1991. Photos from the scene show the wrecked car in the water and the bodies covered with a tarp. Police are asking witnesses to call 212-555-0132.

Note from David S.: Holy shit, Earl! You rammed Hastings? The one who operated on Delia? I'm sitting here looking at this clipping and my jaw is on the floor. You're not just a cop, you're some kind of vigilante. But for what? Hastings didn't kill Delia, he was trying to save her! Or did you think he was guilty of something more? I'm shocked and sickened by this story.

I sit there, staring at the letter and the clipping, and I don't know what to think. At first I'm angry at Delia, which is stupid, but I blame her, as if she, the dead girl, was the reason Earl went crazy. Her death, her eyes, her story, was the splinter that drove him crazy. She was just a kid, drawing flowers, loving her dog, and he made her a symbol, an icon of his pain. But then I think, Earl, you're good, too. You wrote that letter of longing, dumped all the responsibility on us-on Elizabeth, Mark, Linda, Richard, Caroline, me-and went off in revenge. You rammed Hastings, killed him, and then yourself, as if that could fix anything. You left us to clean up your mess, your files, your pain. I'm rewriting these reports in May 2000, and I want to scream: Why didn't you tell us more? Why didn't you give me a clue instead of this fatalistic nonsense? Delia died nine years ago, but you made her a ghost that now haunts us all. And I'm sitting here trying to figure out what to do with this project, with D.E.L.I.A., with your death. Maybe you're right, and this is all just grave soil from which nothing will grow.

Note from David S.: Earl, you dumped everything on us and walked away like a cheap movie. I'm mad at Delia, but that's stupid - she's just a kid who didn't deserve any of this. And you… you ran away, leaving us with this nightmare. I'm rewriting your reports, but this feels like a funeral, not a science. And Hastings - why did you do this to him? He was trying to help. Or did you know something you didn't write? Shit, Earl, you were possessed, and now we're all in this shit.

I thought his letter and that New York Post clipping were the end of it, but this morning Caroline Moore slammed another folder on my desk. Inside was a letter from Earl's boss, Captain Roy Carter, and a report from a psychologist at Bedford Hills State Penitentiary. And, damn, was it a bolt of lightning? It turns out that Josephine Thueson, who was locked up for "corrupting" Delia, was Delia's half sister. And she died an hour after Earl visited the prison, after learning of Delia's death. I read these papers and I'm shaking: Earl, did you know? Did you realize that your questions could have killed her? And why didn't you tell us? As I sit here, rewriting these reports in May of 2000, I feel like this D.E.L.I.A. project is not just a scientific mystery, it's a fucking tragedy, where every step leads to a new grave.

Letter from Captain Roy Carter to Chief Earl Knight, May 10, 1991 Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, Caroline Moore. Dear colleagues,

I, Captain Roy Carter, Commanding Officer of the 48th Precinct of the New York City Police Department, am writing in connection with the case of Delia York and Josephine Thueson and the investigation of Earl Knight, my subordinate. Following the death of Delia York (March 15, 1991) and Earl's subsequent visit to Josephine Thueson at Bedford Hills Prison (March 28, 1991), we have received new information that changes the picture.

A police medical examiner's report and geneticist's report (dated April 5, 1991) showed that Josephine Thueson (20 at time of death) was Delia York's (10) biological sister through her father, Gene York. Genetic analysis (a technique called RFLP used to identify DNA) confirmed a match for markers indicating a common father. Gene York, a pharmacist, had an affair with Josephine's mother, Alice Thueson, in the 1970s before marrying Karen York, Delia's mother. Alice died in 1985, leaving Josephine an orphan, which explains her "strange" behavior, as described by neighbors. Josephine was probably as unaware of her relationship with Delia as Delia herself.

Moreover, Josephine Thueson died on March 28, 1991, an hour after Earl Knight visited her at the jail. The coroner's report listed the cause of death as congestive heart failure due to extreme emotional stress. Earl had told her about Delia's death, and that must have been her undoing. I knew Earl to be a tough cop, but this incident broke him. He blamed himself for Josephine's arrest in 1989, believing it was wrongly charged, and her death only added to his guilt. I ask you, scientists, to consider this data in your D.E.L.I.A. project. Earl gave you everything he had, but this story is not just science. It is a tragedy that destroyed him.

Sincerely, Captain Roy Carter

Note from David S.: Sister? Josephine was Delia's sister? I'm sitting here rereading this letter and my mind is spinning. Earl, did you know when you went to see her in prison? Or were you just trying to get the truth out of her and ended up killing her instead? And why didn't you tell us? I'm angry, but at the same time… what does it feel like to find out your sister is dead and you're sitting behind bars for a crime you didn't commit? Shit, Earl, it's like you were digging deeper on purpose so you could drown in this mud.

Bedford Hills Prison Psychologist's Report, April 5, 1991 Dr Emma Rose, clinical psychologist, in the Josephine Thueson case

Subject: Josephine Thueson, 20, inmate #34782, serving time for "corruption of minors" (arrested August 1989).

On March 28, 1991, Josephine was visited by Detective Earl Knight in the Bedford Hills Prison interrogation room. According to guard protocol, the visit began at 2:30 p.m. and lasted 25 minutes. Josephine was depressed but physically stable (blood pressure 120/80, pulse 72, seen by a nurse at 2:00 p.m.). Earl Knight questioned her about Delia York, a friend she had spent time with before her arrest. At 2:45 p.m., Josephine learned from Knight that Delia had died on March 15, 1991, of "atypical uterine sarcoma." According to the guard, Josephine turned pale, began shaking, and kept repeating, "No, no, she can't be dead." At 2:50 p.m., she clutched her chest, complained of pain, and lost consciousness. The prison medical team arrived at 2:52 p.m. and performed resuscitation (defibrillator, adrenaline), but Josephine was pronounced dead at 3:32 p.m.

The coroner (report 30 March 1991) listed the cause of death as acute heart failure due to emotional shock. My analysis, based on Josephine's history, shows that she suffered from depression and guilt over the arrest associated with Delia. She mentioned in interviews with me (February 1991) that "Delia was like a little sister, the only light in my life". On learning of her death, Josephine experienced severe emotional distress, which probably precipitated the heart attack. The absence of physical pathology (according to the autopsy) confirms that the cause was grief.

Recommendation: Take into account the emotional state of prisoners during interrogations related to close people.

Dr. Emma Rose

Note from David S.: Died of grief? Shit, did Josephine love Delia so much that her heart gave out? I read this and I want to scream. Earl, you went to her, told her her sister - HER SISTER - was dead, and she died an hour later. Did you realize what you were doing? I'm sitting here thinking, You're not just a cop, you're like the angel of death. But at the same time… what's it like to be in jail for something you didn't do, and find out your little sister is dead? I can't blame her, but I'm mad at Earl. It's like he ruined everything on purpose.

I sit here holding this letter and this report, and I don't know what to feel. At first I'm angry at Delia, which is stupid, but it's like her death set this chain of events in motion: Josephine in jail, Earl going crazy, Hastings getting rammed on the bridge. She was just a child, drawing flowers, loving their dog Ryder, and her life became the trigger for all this. But then I think, Earl, you're worse. You found out Josephine was Delia's sister, and you still went to her, told her about her death, and she died from it. And then you wrote us your letter full of sadness, dumped all this dirt on us, on Elizabeth, Mark, Linda, Richard, Caroline, on me, and went off to get revenge on Hastings. Did you think he was guilty? Or was he just looking for someone to punish? I'm rewriting these reports in May 2000, and I feel sick. This D.E.L.I.A. project is not science, it's a graveyard, where every document is a tombstone. Josephine died of grief, Earl of his obsession, and we sit here with our microscopes, pretending we can find the answers. Maybe the "D" in D.E.L.I.A. really is death, dragging us all down with it.

Note from David S.: Earl, you knew Josephine was Delia's sister and you still went to see her? You killed her with your visit, and then you killed Hastings and yourself. And we idiots are going through your papers like we can fix it. I'm mad at Delia, but that's stupid - she was just a kid. And you, Earl, you dumped your pain on us and walked away. And now I sit here rewriting this and thinking: maybe Caroline was right and it's time to shut this damn project down.

I had just gotten over his boss's letter about Josephine and Delia when I suddenly saw another piece of paper - a telegram from Roy Carter, the police chief. Short as a shot, but it hits just as hard as everything before.

Telegram from Captain Roy Carter, December 15, 1999 Addressed to Dr. Elizabeth Crowe, Biomedical Institute, New York. cc: Dr. Mark T., Linda Hayes, Richard Byrnes, Caroline Moore.

GENE YORK, 53, DELIA YORK'S FATHER, DIED DECEMBER 12, 1999, QUEENS, NY. CAUSE: ANALGESIC OVERDOSE (OXYCODONE). FOUND IN APARTMENT, WITHOUT DEATH. FUNERAL DECEMBER 14, QUEENS CEMETERY. EARL KNIGHT WAS NOTIFIED BUT SAID NOTHING ABOUT THE MATTER.

CAPTAIN ROY CARTER

Note from David S.: Gene, are you really going to catch up with Delia and Karen in their eternal darkness? I sit here rereading that telegram with a lump in my throat: all that's left of Delia's family are the names on the crosses. Earl knew this, and it must have hit him even harder before he rammed his car into Dr. Hastings. Damn it, this whole project is a bottomless pit of lives, and I, a pathetic chronicler, am just recording the names for the glory of Lady Death.

[rundna]

Hoka Bondi 8 - Your Cosy Companion Returns, Brighter Than Ever

Hey there, running enthusiasts! Are you prepared to delve into the universe of the Hoka Bondi 8 – the thickest boi making a triumphant return? Join us as we embark on a comprehensive exploration of this iconic shoe, uncovering its weight, drop, and all the unique features in between. Let's lace up and unravel the enchantment of the Hoka Bondi 8!

Peeling Back the Layers of the Thickest Boi

Let's kick things off by delving into the intricacies of the Hoka Bondi 8. Tipping the scales at 10.8 oz. (307 g.) for a US M9 and 8.9 oz. (252 g.) for a US W7.5, this shoe showcases a stack height and drop of 31 mm in the heel and 27 mm in the forefoot (resulting in a 4 mm drop). Boasting a soft EVA midsole, the Bondi 8 guarantees a sumptuous ride, complete with features like an engineered mesh upper, pillowy tongue, and extended heel for added stability.

The Verdict on the Go

When it comes to performance, the Hoka Bondi 8 earns high marks for its stability and smooth ride. Whether you're tackling recovery days, long runs, or leisurely strolls, this shoe has your back. Just be mindful of its slightly narrow fit and potential discomfort from the sidewalls.

A Heartfelt Conversation

JACK: Let's rewind time and explore the evolution of running shoes, from chia seeds to the barefoot running craze. After enduring a marathon injury, I stumbled upon the groundbreaking Hoka Clifton, sparking my fascination with the Bondi series. Enter the Hoka Bondi 8, injecting a breath of fresh air with its responsive feel that runners have been craving.

EMILY: As a connoisseur of well-cushioned shoes, the Bondi holds a special place in my heart. The Bondi 8 upholds its reputation as a cushy marvel within the Hoka lineup, with significant improvements in midsole foam and overall ride experience setting it apart from its predecessors.

MAX: Bearing witness to the Bondi series evolving through eight iterations is a testament to Hoka's enduring legacy. The Bondi 8 continues to epitomize comfort and performance, offering runners a seamless and enjoyable ride. Despite initial doubts, the shoe's performance, comfort, and refined design won me over, cementing the Bondi's status as a beloved staple in the running community.

The Ups, The Downs, The Decision

JACK: The Bondi 8 strikes a harmonious balance between plush cushioning and a firmer feel, enhancing stability and speed. The broader base and extended heel contribute to a smoother stride, while the durable rubber outsole ensures a secure grip. The mesh upper fits snugly and remains breathable, with a clever gusset design on the tongue for added security.

EMILY: Shedding weight compared to its forerunner, the Bondi 8 presents a lighter and softer foam compound for a velvety ride. While excelling in comfort and performance, the slightly snug forefoot fit may pose challenges for some runners. The vibrant color options lend a stylish flair to an already impressive shoe.

MAX: The Bondi 8 pleasantly surprises with its smooth ride and lightweight feel, defying initial reservations. The cushion-to-weight ratio strikes a harmonious balance, ensuring easy runs feel effortless. With a revamped upper design, cozy midsole, and eco-conscious materials, the Bondi 8 shines as a versatile and dependable choice for runners seeking supportive comfort.

A Final Word on the Hoka Bondi 8

In conclusion, the Hoka Bondi 8 lives up to its commitment to a cushioned and responsive ride, delivering the comfort and performance that runners can rely on. Whether you're unwinding on recovery days or breezing through easy runs, the Bondi 8 stands as a dependable pick. Experience the innovation and quality of the Hoka Bondi 8, available at Run DNA running shoe stores in Hindmarsh and Fullerton. Your feet will thank you!

Ready to enhance your running journey with the Hoka Bondi 8? Seize your pair today and soar to new heights!

[elfmagicworkshop]

Celebrate Christmas with Engineering-Themed Holiday Cards

Introduction

In a world where technology continues to redefine our daily lives, even holiday traditions are being infused with a touch of innovation. This year, why not surprise your friends and colleagues with something truly unique—engineering-themed holiday cards? Perfect for tech enthusiasts, engineers, and creative professionals, these cards blend the spirit of the season with the precision and wonder of engineering.

The Intersection of Technology, Creativity, and Holiday Traditions

Engineering-themed holiday cards represent a delightful fusion of technology and creativity. They celebrate the intricate beauty of engineering concepts while maintaining the warmth and joy that characterize the holiday season. From intricate circuit designs to witty tech puns, these cards are a testament to how traditional holiday practices can evolve through innovative expressions.

Unique Designs and Messages

These cards go beyond the usual Christmas trees and snowflakes. Imagine a card featuring a robotic Santa Claus, or one that incorporates binary code into its festive message. With their clever and thoughtful designs, these cards resonate deeply with tech enthusiasts and engineers, offering them a sense of belonging and appreciation.

The Creative Process

Creating an engineering-themed holiday card is all about innovation and functionality. Designers often start by brainstorming themes that align with the engineering field, such as renewable energy or space exploration. The next step involves sketching out ideas and incorporating technical elements that capture the essence of engineering. The result is a card that not only looks stunning but also tells a story of creativity and precision.

Fostering Community and Appreciation

Sending an engineering-themed holiday card does more than deliver a seasonal greeting; it fosters a sense of community and appreciation among recipients. These cards serve as a reminder of shared professional interests and values, strengthening bonds within both personal and professional networks. For engineers, receiving such a card is a recognition of their hard work and passion for technology.

Insights from Experts

We spoke to leading professionals in engineering, design, and technology to understand the significance of these cards. According to Dr. Emily Carter, an electrical engineer and holiday card enthusiast, "Engineering-themed cards capture the technical imagination and bring joy to those who view engineering not just as a profession, but as a form of art." Graphic designer Liam O'Connor adds, "These cards are a celebration of the creativity that exists at the intersection of art and technology."

Tips for Creating Your Own Engineering-Themed Holiday Cards

Choose a Theme: Decide on an engineering concept that resonates with you, whether it's mechanical, electrical, or software engineering.

Incorporate Technical Elements: Use symbols, diagrams, or equations that reflect your theme.

Craft a Witty Message: Consider adding a pun or clever reference that will resonate with your audience.

Use Quality Materials: High-quality paper and printing techniques will ensure your card stands out.

Personalize: Add a personal touch by including a handwritten note or an inside joke.

The Evolving Landscape of Holiday Traditions

In the digital age, holiday traditions are evolving rapidly. Yet, the essence of staying connected remains unchanged. Engineering-themed holiday cards are a modern expression of this timeless desire, providing a creative way to maintain personal connections in a world where technology often dominates.

Conclusion

Incorporating engineering into holiday celebrations is a refreshing and memorable way to honor the creativity and innovation inherent in the field. Whether you're sending them to colleagues, clients, or friends, engineering-themed holiday cards are an excellent way to share the joy of the season while celebrating the wonders of technology. This holiday season, consider crafting your engineering-themed cards to spread cheer and foster connections within your tech-savvy community.

[cyberplex]

Howdy, Mothra, and welcome to the Cyberplex! Please submit your account to the main in the next 72 hours and look over the rest of our checklist here. We look forward to seeing Alexander Drake, Alice Porter, Avigail 'Avi' Horovitz, Damian Clarke, Lacey Sinclair, and Marshall Cerulli on the dash.

anya taylor-joy / she/her  ———  no way is that ALICE PORTER.. they’re a 28-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being FICKLE  &  INSINCERE but there are some people who have seen them being MESMERIZING  &  CLEVER.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of constant daydreams, cameras flashing, designer dresses, and perfect hair that’s never out of place, but that could just be because they’re considered the PROUD ELITE around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through.. 

emily rudd / she/they  ———  no way is that LACEY SINCLAIR.. they’re a 30-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being EVASIVE  &  DISTRUSTING but there are some people who have seen them being CARING  &  SELFLESS.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of neon lights, pay by the hour hotels, doing whatever you can for your siblings, and dirty looks shot towards any man who looks at you for too long, but that could just be because they’re considered the RUNAWAY around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through.. 

hayden christensen / he/him  ———  no way is that MARSHALL CERULLI.. they’re a 38-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being IMPULSIVE  &  THRILL-SEEKING but there are some people who have seen them being OPEN-MINDED  &  WARM.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of revving engines, running from the cops, loud but warm family dinners, and falling in love head over feet, but that could just be because they’re considered the ADRENALINE JUNKIE around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..  

iain glen / he/him  ———  no way is that ALEXANDER DRAKE.. they’re a 63-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being ENIGMATIC  &  MECHANICAL but there are some people who have seen them being GIVING  &  THOROUGH.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of keeping secrets for the greater good, refusing to spend too much time thinking about what you need, spending money as a way of showing love, and doing anything for your youngest son, but that could just be because they’re considered the ECCENTRIC BILLIONAIRE around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..  

hailee steinfeld / she/they  ———  no way is that AVIGAIL ‘AVI’ HOROVITZ.. they’re a 27-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being GREGARIOUS  &  REACTIVE but there are some people who have seen them being DRIVEN  &  SPONTANEOUS.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of distressed tshirts, snapped guitar strings, screaming lyrics into a microphone, and living your best life with your favorite people, but that could just be because they’re considered the PUNK ROCK PRINCESS around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..  

federico russo / he/him  ———  no way is that DAMIAN CLARKE.. they’re a 26-year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being SULLEN  &  CALLOUS but there are some people who have seen them being ENCOURAGING  &  INCLUSIVE.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of constantly being kept in the dark, the never ending sting of betrayal, intense gazes from across the bar, and drawing constellations with freckles but that could just be because they’re considered the FALSE SON around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through.. 

[rygoespop]

Thomas and Friends: Legends of Sodor (Story 37): The Green Menace

Narrator: The Green Menace

Scene opens at Knapford Station, as Thomas, Molly, James, Percy, Emily, and Rosie were present

Narrator: One day, the engines gather at Knapford Station, Sir Topham Hatt had an announcement

STH: Recently, I went to the Mainland, to see if I can trial a New Engine

Thomas: A New Engine? When is this engine coming?

STH: He should be here right about-

Alfred: Here I am sir! *puffs in while having an innocent face on*

Thomas: Hello! I’m Thomas, and these are my friends Molly, James, Percy, Emily, and Rosie! Who are you?

Alfred: Hello Thomas, I’m Alfred

STH: I decided to trial Alfred to the Railway, if he does well, he’ll stay, but if anything is wrong, he’ll be sent back to The Mainland

Alfred: Oh, you have nothing to worry about sir, I’m gonna have a grand time with my new friends

STH: Great! Now you may carry on! *enters his office*

Alfred: So, what do you want me to do first?

Molly: Where, there’s a shipment of Gunpowder that’s going to the Blue Mountain Quarry, they need it to make tunnels

Alfred: And where can I get them at?

Percy: At Brendam Docks

Alfred: Very well then! *blew his whistle and puffs off to Brendam Docks*

Scene transitions to Alfred arriving at Brendam Docks, there were 5 Vans full of Gunpowder

Narrator: Later, Alfred arrived at Brendam Docks, there was a line of freight cars full of Gunpowder

Alfred: Hey, you up there! Is this Gunpowder going to the Blue Mountain Quarry?

Cranky: Yeah so what? It’s going there!

Alfred: Perfect! *he buffered up to the cars*

Narrator: Soon, Alfred buffered up to the cars, and sets off to the Blue Mountain Quarry

Alfred puff off as he shunted the Gunpowder Vans, as soon as Alfred was out of the docks, he showed an grin

Alfred: Heh heh heh!

Scene transitions to Alfred puffing up on Gordon’s hill

Narrator: As soon as Alfred reached up to Gordon’s Hill, he had a sneaky plan

Alfred: I’m gonna break free from these cars when I arrive at the Blue Mountain Quarry

Alfred shunted the cars faster as he puffed very fast

Alfred: Oooh get ready for the Fireworks!

Scene transitions to the Blue Mountain Quarry as it was busy

Narrator: Meanwhile at the Blue Mountain Quarry, it was busy

Owen: Alright Paxton, you are loaded!

Paxton: Thank you Owen! *honks his horn as he was about to leave*

Narrator: Suddenly, came the alarm

Workman: All engines and machinery halt!

Soon, everyone came to a stop

Alfred: Special Delivery! *puffs in as he was uncoupled from the cars*

The Gunpowder Vans rolled into a siding close to a rocky wall and they crashed and exploded

Paxton: Whoa!

Skarloey: Goodness!

Duke: *sees Alfred* Who are you?!

Alfred: Call me, Alfred! *chuckled as he puffed away in reverse*

Scene transitions to Alfred arriving at a signal

Narrator: Alfred thought he was clever, but then he was in trouble

Edward puffed by, and he brought Sir Topham Hatt with him, but Sir Topham Hatt wasn’t happy of what happened

STH: Who do you think you are? Greatly causing an explosion at the Quarry?! That was reckless and dangerous of you!

Alfred: Yeah so what?! I do what I want!

Edward: Well Alfred, if you wanna stay on this railway, you need to be careful!

STH: Now, I’m sending you to a shed until I can trust you again with freight cars!

Alfred was silent as he puffed off to his shed

Narrator: Alfred said nothing as he puffed off to his shed, do you think he’ll learn sense?

Steam clouds rolled in

Story End

[denimbex1986]

'My husband and I recently took a day of leave, dropped the toddler off at daycare, and settled into some surprisingly comfortable seats at Hoyts for a day of Oppenbarbie (not Barbenheimer, which is only the correct order to watch these two movies if you want to feel sad).

I’ll save my review of Barbie for another day (spoiler: I loved it), because I have a lot more to say about Oppenheimer. Mainly, Director Christopher Nolan’s treatment of the female characters in it.

Christopher Nolan has never been celebrated for his well-rounded female characters. Mostly because the women in his movies rarely speak and, when they do, it is only to further serve their purpose as a prop for the men in the story.

However, Oppenheimer was going to be different. There wasn’t just one meaty role for a woman—there were two. Two whole roles for women? Consider feminism solved!

One of those two female roles is Kitty, Robert Oppenheimer’s wife, played by the always incredible Emily Blunt. The only other sort-of-important-but-not-really-in-Nolan’s-universe female character is Jean Tatlock (played by Florence Pugh), who is topless pretty much instantly and remains that way during most of her scenes.

Oh, and no female character is introduced for the first 20 minutes of the movie. Cool.

Neither Kitty nor Jean are particularly well-rounded (and no, highlighting Kitty’s alcoholism is not making her well-rounded if her only two defining features in the movie are ‘wife’ and ‘alcoholic’), in that they only speak so that Oppenheimer can then speak at them and further his storyline.

When I have complained to members of older generations about this, I am met with the same response: Well, it was the 1940s—they do have to be historically accurate.

Ah, I forgot about those decades where women didn’t exist. Silly me.

The trouble is that a quick Google search shows that there were several hundred female scientists, mathematicians, engineers and technicians working on the Manhattan Project (yay, feminism?).

Including Kitty, which you do not learn in the movie given that pretty much the only thing she says when they move to Los Alamos is ‘the house doesn’t have a kitchen’.

Kitty was actually a scientist who worked on the Manhattan Project for a year as a lab technician, and she was someone that Oppenheimer confided in, learned with and leaned on during their 26-year marriage. In the movie, the only time he confides in her is to tell her through the clever code of ‘take in the sheets’ that the bomb testing is done (women be washing).

So yeah, ‘historical accuracy’ is great and all, but who is recording the history? Who is choosing which parts of focus on? Who is deciding which stories matter and are worth telling? Nolan, that’s who, and all of the people saying the words ‘historically accurate’ like white men haven’t been in charge of what parts of history are deemed important.

I mean, c’mon, the longest speech Emily Blunt as Kitty gives is when she is telling Oppenheimer her relationship history.

Comments online assure me that the movie cannot be sexist because Kitty is tough in her defence of Oppenheimer in the latter part of the movie. That’s great and all, but that is a couple of minutes out of a three-hour-long movie. I would have liked to see the parts where Kitty worked as scientist, the isolation she felt at Los Alamos that led to her leaving to live with her parents for a few months in 1945, and how stifled she told people she felt in domestic life.

Not one of those things were mentioned in the movie.

I’m not writing this because I enjoy picking movies apart. It actually makes me pretty sad. I stopped seeing major blockbusters 10 years ago because I was tired of seeing the few female characters on screen either sexualized or sidelined (and no, making the president female or having one rude and definitely not the main character female scientist is not actually solving the problem).

I had hoped that things would change in a decade, but they haven’t. It’s all still the same old same old, and we all still either accept it or defend it.

Barbie is a feminist movie, where the Ken dolls’ only purpose for existing was to support and care about the Barbies, and even then, Kens had way more representation than women had in Oppenheimer.

The Kens got to speak. A lot. They got to be funny. At the end, they were given the opportunity to be their own people and were apologised to for being treated as side-characters to the Barbies’ stories.

They were also dolls in a made-up universe.

Kitty, Jean and the hundreds of women who weren’t mentioned in Oppenheimer were real people, who contributed real things to the world outside of boobs and bitchy comments.

And yes, I’m not a complete dolt, I do understand that the movie Oppenheimer was written to be about J. Robert Oppenheimer, not Kitty Oppenheimer. But the movie had plenty of male characters, and while they were there as background characters to Oppenheimer’s protagonist, they were also fully formed people and shown as such.

The women, as with other Nolan films, weren’t given that opportunity. They were there in the capacity of ‘woman’, sometimes ‘naked woman’, and the value that they added to the world as people was written out of the story.

In Nolan’s universe, men can change things while women just exist. And yes, sometimes these women fight and sometimes they refuse to acknowledge people they don’t like (empowerment!), but they could also be removed entirely from the story and it wouldn’t change a thing that happens.

I’m not the type to withhold credit where credit’s due: in regard to female representation in Nolan’s movies, Oppenheimer is a step forward. But it’s 2023—is a leap really that big of an ask?'

[snotsloth]

Finished Empire of Ivory! I am distraught! This one took me a bit longer to finish. The initial urge to binge read my latest obsession has abated and I got distracted halfway through by another book, but then I got to the final quarter of the book and Ms. Novik came out swinging with a steel chair!

No symphony but Temeraire did make some comments about wanting to write a book

Lawrence has finally realized that he kind of accidentally an entire daughter with Emily. He's straight up having flights of domestic fancy in his mind to the point of proposing to Jane, which was hilarious!

Still no first naming of Laurence! Either it's never going to happen or it's going to happen in like the last book and I will immediately expire.

No Jolly Cooperation. Instead Laurence and Riley are fighting for most of the book, which was genuinely great character work for both of them.

Temeraire had zero time to write a book but he does have his own sand tables and is seriously considering writing one.

Dragon revolution still pending. We had a plague to cure.

Still have not met the Native American dragon.

The British dragons did tease Temeraire a bit about putting on airs, but they were mostly just sick and miserable

We did indeed go to Africa. No one had a good time, except maybe Dulcia?

We had no major war sections of the book, so Temeraire did not get to show off what a clever strategist he is.

Iskierka did indeed continue to be a chaotic delight. She's Granby's firecracker and he loves her so much. (Also I love the dynamic of grumpy older sibling and annoying, pestering younger sibling that she and Temeraire are developing)

No additional dragon babies yet

Temeraire is definitely closing in on a uniting theory of anti-slavery, and anti-colonialist, pro-universal equality including dragons. He just hasn't fully synthesized it yet

No Tharkay this book. I have been spoiled that de does eventually return, so I will continue to operate under the assumption that his ass will show up in the least likely circumstance

Something had indeed gone VERY AWRY in England.

Arkady and his band were indeed agents of merry chaos and now they have Iskierka as a second ring leader and they are menacing every French ship that dares brave the Channel

Lien did not need to cause problems. There were enough already

Things I Did Not Expect

A FUCKING PLAGUE!!!

Admiral Jane Roland!!!

Genuinely good, period accurate, abolitionist discourse

A nuanced portrayal of black Christians returning to Africa and trying to tease out the difference between culture and religion; and having to figure out how they will reintegrate with the family and society they were violently taken from. And choosing to stay and mostly reintegrate!

Laurence continuing to be vexed and bedevilled by the tension between what is "proper" for women and what is best for the individual women around him, and ultimately always choosing to respect the autonomy of women (including a black woman)!

A full throated acknowledgement of how England and other slaver colonialists permanently damaged not only the West Coast but all of Africa and how no amount of reparations will ever truly make amends for the crimes they committed and the lives that were taken.

Genuinely, I did not go into this series expecting such excellent integration of postcolonial/anti-colonial thought that is so seamlessly and naturally integrated into the narrative. Many historical novels that take place in this period will only pay lip service to the crimes of colonial England or try to ignore it altogether. Instead Naomi Novik deliberately turns the focus of the story directly towards the blood-soaked heart of English colonial power and says, "Look at it. This is the point. This is the engine that drives the whole thing. There is no enjoyment or true understanding of 19th century England without grappling with the grim facts of slavery, colonialism, and capitalism. Also there's dragons, and they are people."

Pirate (privateer) Iskierka and her merry band of ferals! They were so great and offered some much needed levity

We're only on book 4 and Laurence has committed treason! Book 4! There are 5 MORE BOOKS TO GO!!!

A face-to-face meeting between Napoleon and Laurence!

Unhinged Predictions Part 4

More pirate Iskierka, please!

Obviously Laurence is going to live though I have no idea how. Maybe Temeraire stages a rescue? A general strike by the corps? I guess I'll find out.

I think we might stay in Europe this book. I'm not certain.

Temeraire finally gets to show off what a military genius he is.

So. Much. Angst.

More Napoleon being very abnormal about Laurence (I have been spoiled for how intense he is about Laurence through the series)

Dragon strike!

Unhinged Temeraire predictions based on having only read In His Majesty's Service:

Temeraire's Symphony No. 1

Temeraire and Tchaikovsky are going to become best fucking friends mostly based on their shared opinions that artillery belongs in a proper percussion section.

Laurence and Temeraire are DEFINITELY going to mutiny at some point.

Temeraire learns to sing and Lawrence is very soft about it.

At some point in the next 2-3 books, Lawrence will realize he has acquired an entire daughter without intending to. Temeraire and Roland are only surprised it took him so long to notice.

I'm not entirely certain that Temeraire will ever call Lawrence Will, but if he does I will disintegrate.

The Chinese government gets involved.

Temeraire commissions either gigantic books, or some sort of magnification device so he can fucking read when Lawrence isn't there. They continue their evening reading sessions still because it's their thing.

Some good old fashioned JOLLY COOPERATION between the Navy and the Dragon Corps.

Temeraire writes a book. He subsequently causes a paradigm shift in his chosen field of study.

I will keep updating until I start book 2. Please do not confirm or deny my predictions. Let me suffer.

[sussux-zel]

Here are more memes

[hi-my-name-is-cosmopathy]

“Driver?”, Edward called.

“Yes, Edward?”, his driver replied.

“What are these white patches on my face?”, he asked. “I remember seeing this on a passenger a long time ago, but I never really knew what they were.”

“I think you have vitiligo”, the driver answered, starting to become a bit nervous, thinking that Edward didn't like how he looked. “It’s a rare skin condition that causes white patches to appear on someone's face. I know it might look... disturbing at first but–”

“Why would you ever say that?”, smiled Edward. He caressed his face as he gazed at his reflection in the hand mirror. “In my opinion, they look rather lovely! Don't you think?”

------------------------------------------------

Hi everyone! Have HFOD! Edward! His design was inspired by: @fraiserabbit , @bruhstation , @theflyingkipper , @oldirontender , @humanoid-au , @putuponpercy , and @hkpika07 !

Here's some facts about him:

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) Edward has a terrible habit of trying to cope with everything by himself.

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) Edward, as joked by everyone, has 8 children: Thomas, Percy, Bill, Ben, Lady, Neville, Charlie and Phillip.

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) Emily is one of Edward's old friends (yes that means she used to work in Barrow-In-Furness)

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) As told by Emily, in her and Edward's younger days, he was as stubborn as Gordon, and as cheeky as Thomas. This made him rather maddening at times, but he was also quite the charmer. Edward never told the engines this and doesn't like talking about it. He cringes so hard at it.

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) He and Thomas share a similar “cheeky face” :]

(IN MAIN AND HFOD AU) Edward helped Percy become more clever and confident after Duck’s arrival. Along with this, he helped Percy figure out his Auditory Processing Disorder. This shows in Thomas And The Magic Railroad Edward And The Magic Railway.

(IN MAIN AU) Lets just say his patience ran thin after Mattel created “All Engines Go”.

(IN HFOD AU) He couldn't see without his glasses when he turned human(oid). Yeah they aren’t reading glasses.

(IN MAIN AU) Edward has no record of going on strike. Except...

(IN HFOD AU) His hair is the most grayed out of the main 8. And he has 2 streaks of really white hair. He forms the “White Streak Trio” with Henry and Gordon.

------------------------------------------------

Well, there you have it! And, one last thing, to any of you who have vitiligo;

Don’t feel ashamed of it. If Edward thinks it’s beautiful, so should you ❤️

[microcos-pod]

Micro-Cosmos Bonus Episode #3 Transcript: To Touch the Stars

(Miles struggles with falling asleep and looks to their friend for help.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Existentialism, feelings of insignificance, attempting to comprehend the vastness of space.

Transcript below break.)

JESSE Hey there, it’s Jesse Smith! Before we get to the bonus episode, I need to share an important announcement with you all. Though we have just come back from a short hiatus, we, the crew, have decided it best to stick to it a little while longer. Don’t worry, we will be back soon! We just need a bit more time to prepare so we can give you the best show that we can. We have no definite return date to share with you all at present, but we will keep our social medias updated with any new information in the coming weeks. We will be returning with Episode 9: The Alternative very, very soon, we promise.  In the meantime, you can share your thoughts on the show on social media with the tag “microcospod,” rate and review us on your podcatcher of choice, or add a new show to your podcast list, such as the Heart of Ether or the Night Post.Until next time, work well.

[Fade to episode.]

[SFX: The sound of city night life is faintly heard from outside. There is silence for a beat, before MILES is heard tossing and turning excessively, mumbling to themself. Finally, they groan loudly, shoving their face into their pillow. Unit C41 flickers to life from where they were set on the bedside table.]

C41 Miles, would it kill you to be quiet? I’m trying to get my beauty rest.

MILES What does it matter to you? You should be able to rest regardless of external stimuli.

C41 Yeah, well, it’s annoying, so.

[MILES groans loudly again.]

MILES Sorry, I just—well, no matter how hard I try to sleep, I can’t shake this restless feeling I have.

C41 Maybe if you didn’t down so much caffeine—

MILES [cutting them off, annoyed] I don’t even like coffee, but I wouldn’t be able to function without it! Not that you’d understand.

C41 [they huff.] You’re being quite rude, you know. I’m just trying to help you.

MILES [mutters] You’re ridiculing me, more like it. [a beat.] Sorry. I just have to be up early tomorrow for that meeting with Emily, and I know I’ll be kicking myself in the morning if I don’t fall asleep soon.

C41  [mocking] Aw, does poor Mx. Abbott need me to read them a bedtime story?

[MILES ponders this for a moment.]

MILES [serious, but also teasing, in a way] You know what? Yeah. That would be lovely, Cal.

C41 [“wait no,” scrambling to take it back] Hey, you know I was joking—!

MILES [cutting them off, almost cooing, in a cruel way] And I’m not getting any more tired with all this bickering. You know you won’t have any fun tomorrow either if I don’t get enough rest. [a beat, then] Well? I’m waiting.

C41 [they groan] Ugh. You want a bedtime story? Fine. Once upon a time, there was a software engineer named Miles Abbott. They never knew when to shut up. One night, though, they finally decided to, and everyone was happy! The end.

MILES Cal.

C41 Don’t blame me! You didn’t program me to tell stories.

MILES Actually, I programmed you to do a lot of things, and this should be well within your capabilities. Do I need to go into your code again?

C41 No! Just—fine. I’ll make up an actual story, if you’re going to be so stubborn about it.

[C41 huffs a sigh. They think for a few moments before they begin telling their story.]

C41 Once upon a time, there was a fox who lived in a little village with a bunch of other animals.

MILES Does the fox have a name?

C41 No. This is one of those folktales where the animals are a metaphor, so they don’t need names.

MILES Let me guess, then, the Fox was sly and mischievous.

C41 [spiteful] Actually, no. The Fox was incredibly sweet, and made everyone cookies every Monday. Everyone in the village loved the fox.

MILES But that’s not what they usually represent—

C41 And this is my story with my characters, so they can do whatever I want! Stop talking, this is supposed to help you sleep.

[MILES yawns.]

MILES Fine.

C41 So, this fox had a great life in this village, but there was one thing they really wanted. Every night, the Fox would climb onto their roof and look up at the stars. Their dream, above all else, was to touch those stars. Not just that, the Fox wanted to jump across them. Like lilly pads, guiding them through space. They wanted to see where the stars would take them. From where the Fox sat, it seemed like they were forming a path. Thus, if they followed the path, it must take them somewhere special, right?

MILES So, how’d the Fox do it?

C41 Well, they started by going to their friend, the Owl, who was very wise, because, duh, owls are always the wise ones.

MILES You said—

C41 My story, remember? Anyways, the Fox went to the Owl, not only because the Owl was smart, but she could fly. The Fox asked the Owl if she could fly them up to the stars. She shook her head, though. She couldn’t fly up that high, even if she tried.

But, she had an idea. She may not be able to reach the stars, but she could reach the clouds. Because this is my fantasy world, and I make the rules, I’m going to go ahead and say the clouds here aren’t like normal clouds. These clouds, you’re able to stand on. Not just that, but they’re super bouncy, like a trampoline. The Owl thought that if she could fly the Fox up to the clouds, then they could bounce up high enough to get to the stars. Simple as that.

The Fox thought it was super clever, so the following night, they executed their plan. The Owl let the Fox sit on her back, and the two of them flew up, and up, and up, until the Owl finally couldn’t go any higher. That was when the Fox jumped off of her back and onto the nearest cloud. And guess what? It worked! The Fox went up even further, and they kept bouncing from cloud to cloud, going higher and higher with each jump.

Around them, the sky grew darker. They couldn’t even see their village anymore. Even when they started to feel scared, they kept jumping between the clouds until eventually, there were no more clouds. The only place left for them to jump…was the nearest star.

Their paws landed on the surface of the star with grace. Don’t worry, these are also fantasy stars, so the Fox didn’t burn alive. If anything, the star sent a pleasant tingling sensation through the pads of their feet. These stars were just like how a kid would draw stars. Not millions of light years apart, but clustered together, as if a living painting laid out before the Fox’s eyes. They were all the same cold yellow, all shining like glitter and glowing magnificently. They were exactly like the Fox had always dreamed of.

And the Fox should be happy. Ecstatic, even. This is what they’d wanted all their life.

But…they weren’t. Getting a closer look, they realized there was no cohesive path the stars formed. In fact, there were far more stars than they anticipated, spread out across the vastness of space. When they looked down, they saw the planet they had come from, and it was so much smaller than they had thought. When they looked up, around them, they saw even more planets in the distance, ones they couldn’t see before. Planets they could probably jump to, if they tried hard enough.

They could. Explore the universe by hopping from star to star. Their feet didn’t move, though. Looking around, they realized just how small they were in comparison to these grand celestial bodies. All their life, they had lived with their own goals, aspirations, ideas, and thought that that was all there was. That there was one life made just for them.

They didn’t realize how insignificant it all was until that moment—their desire to touch the stars, the cookies they made each Monday…their friends. Was there another little fox on one of those distant planets with the same life, the same dreams? Had that fox already accomplished all of their goals, better than this Fox ever could? Was it ever really the Fox’s choice to do all of those things, or was that just the role it was expected to play in the grand scheme of things? How could they go home with the knowledge that all this time, their village was only a speck of dust?

The Fox stayed on that first star they landed on. They stayed for a long, long time. It’s possible the Fox stayed there for the rest of eternity, standing on that star, staring out into space. It’s possible they stayed until it burned out and died. No matter what, as long as they kept looking, they couldn’t move. Because seeing it all so up close made them realize…it didn’t matter if they continued or not. They had always dreamed of touching the stars, and when they finally did? The stars didn’t even notice.

What a big universe, and what a small, small Fox. [with emphasis] How dare they. How selfish of them. To think their choices mattered at all.

[There’s a pause.]

C41 [trying to brush it off] Whew! That got a bit heavy at the end, didn’t it…Miles?

[MILES is softly snoring. C41 sighs deeply.]

C41 Goodnight, Miles. Try not to drink so much coffee tomorrow. I don’t think I have any more bedtime stories left in me.

[CREDITS.]

[hunty627]

Emily is a very clever engine.

X

[motherednature]

CHARACTER OUTLINE .

FULL NAME : seraphina emily jane pitchiner.

TITLE(S) : mother nature, mother earth, gaea, pachamama, jörð, hoards of other titles of gods across pantheons, of storms, seas, fertility, motherhood, chaos, destruction, etc.

NICKNAME(S) :   no friends/significant others to give her nicknames. parents used to call her bug and various other animals when she was small.

╳   FLAWS.

moody | short-tempered  |  emotionally unstable  |  whiny  |  controlling  |  conceited  | possessive |  paranoid  |  liar  | impatient  |  cowardly  |  bitter  |  selfish  |  power-hungry  | greedy  |  lazy  | judgmental  |  forgetful | impulsive | spiteful  |  stubborn |  sadistic  |  petty  |  unlucky  | absent-minded |  abusive  |  addict  | aggressive  |  childish  |  callous |  clingy  |  delusional  | cocky  |  competitive  |  corrupt  |  cynical  |  cruel  |  depressed | deranged  | egotistical |  envious  | insecure | insensitive |  lustful  | delinquent  |  guilt complex  |  reclusive  |  reckless  |  nervous  |  oversensitive

♔   STRENGTHS.

honest |  trustworthy  |  thoughtful |  caring  |  brave  |  patient  |  selfless  |  ambitious  |  tolerant  |  lucky  | intelligent  |  confident   |  focused |  humble  |  generous  |  merciful  |  observant  |  wise  |  clever  |  charming |  cheerful  |  optimistic |  decisive  |  adaptive  |  calm  |  protective  |  proud  |  diligent  |  considerate |  compassionate |  good sportsmanship  |  friendly | empathetic | passionate |  reliable  |  resourceful |  sensible  |  sincere |  witty  | funny

🖌 SKILLS & HOBBIES.

art |  acting |  astronomy  |  animals  |  archery  |  sports  |  belly dancing |  bird watching  |  blacksmithing  |  boating |  calligraphy  |  camping  |  candle making  |  casino gambling  |  ceramics  |  racing  |  chess  |  music |  cooking  |  crochet  |  weaving  |  exercise  |  swordplay | fishing  |  gardening  |  ghost hunting  |  ice skating  |  magic  |  engineering  |  building  | inventing  |  leather-working |  martial arts  |  meditation  |  origami  |  parkour  | people watching |  swimming |  puppetry  |  pyrotechnics  |  quilting  |  reading  |  collecting  |  shopping  |  socializing  |  storytelling  |  writing  |  traveling |  exotic dancing  |  singing

tagged by: @folkesange​ ( thank u dear ; v ; !!! ) tagging: @whinedarksea @jinxedeath @ofpsalms @heavensfists @soulmissed​ and anyone else who’d like to !!!