#Stanislaus Circle

[cirr0stratus]

thinking about frodo and sam and how their characters are near identical to stanislaus katzinsky and paul baumer and how they are both fictional men of different statuses that were created during the horrors of world war one by two people who used their incredible poetic voices to cope with the realities of warfare and how the relationship that these characters have transcends friendship and brotherhood and even romantic love because what they have is so much more important than that, it’s so much more. how there isn’t a word for the relationship that they have, and people like me are stuck thinking about these quotes and being completely normal about them

“We sit opposite one another, Kat and I, two soldiers in shabby coats, cooking a goose in the middle of the night. We don't talk much, but I believe we have a more complete communion with one another than even lovers have.

We are two men, two minute sparks of life; outside is the night and the circle of death. We sit on the edge of it crouching in danger, the grease drips from our hands, in our hearts we are close to one another, and the hour is like the room: flecked over with the lights and shadows of our feelings cast by a quiet fire. What does he know of me or I of him? formerly we should not have had a single thought in common – now we sit with a goose between us and feel in unison, are so intimate that we do not even speak.”

“you lay close to me. I'd be dearly glad to see you have a sleep. Id keep watch over you; and anyway, if you lay near, with my arm round you, no one could come pawing you without your Sam knowing it.”

“A little soldier and a clear voice, and if anyone were to caress him he would hardly understand, this soldier with the big boots and the shut heart, who marches because he is wearing big boots, and has forgotten all else but marching. Beyond the sky-line is a country with flowers, lying so still that he would like to weep. There are sights there that he has not forgotten, because he never possessed them – perplexing, yet lost to him. Are not his twenty summers there?

Is my face wet, and where am I? Kat stands before me, his gigantic, stooping shadow falls upon me, like home. He speaks gently, he smiles and goes back to the fire.

Then he says: "It's done."”

“Frodo's face was peaceful, the marks of fear and care had left it; but it looked old, old and beautiful, as if the chiselling of the shaping years was now revealed in many fine lines that had before been hidden, though the identity of the face was not changed. Not that Sam Gamgee put it that way to himself. He shook his head, as if finding words useless, and murmured: 'I love him. He's like that, and sometimes it shines through, somehow. But I love him, whether or no”

“Kat my friend, Kat with the drooping shoulders and the poor, thin moustache, Kat, whom I know as I know no other man, Kat with whom I have shared these years—it is impossible that perhaps I shall not see Kat again”

“'If you don't come back, sir, then I shan't, that's certain,' said Sam. 'Don't you leave him! they said to me. Leave him! I said. I never mean to. I am going with him, if he climbs to the Moon; and if any of those Black Riders try to stop him, they'll have Sam Gamgee to reckon with,”

[remembertheplunge]

Only 5 days left in the 1980s

December 26, 1989. Tuesday. Espresso Cafe, Modesto, California

So, only five days left to “feel” the 80’s.  Who om I now? For once out on the great “see” of the 90’s, which will rush more and more quickly toward the raging head waters of the next century, our little peace pool of time here will be long gone. It’s chance for seeing through compulsion is lost. So, as in place, sometimes in time we find ourselves at the crossroads .  So, what do ya do with it? You back off from the bigger, major world to allow that calling to come through. Which is what I’m doing today. So, what am I after these crazy 80’s? Well, really and truly, what I am is simply truer, deeper version of what I was.

I held many mirrors up to my face  in the 80’s in dark rooms so I could see—

The mirror of marriage, of private law practice, of 3rd year law student, of the bar exam, of new attorney, , of law firm attorney, of public defender

In a mirror, one sees what one is and what one is not.

 The image of the money seeker did not appear, nor did that of the loving partner and father, nor did that of the well dressed beauty or of the world traveler. All of these came up, filtered in and melted away in the heat of their own reflection. In times like today, I hold the mirror up to see these images gone or greatly reduced.

And, who looks back?

Me.

Who was looking out on 12/31/1979? And who, after all these years, is still looking out?

A lover of life. A lover of active tear paper art. A lover of deep fault line need to be, to know,. A lover of great pain juxtaposed to great beauty. A lover of fight for truth in his own way. Through the courts in word, deed, action. Through holding melting hands and whispy hearts that form solid images, more solid than any flesh and blood.

I see a sweet repository of the now brittle yet fragrant petals of flowers once full, now withered.

I apply my fire time and time again and am rewarded with a fragrance bittersweet that won’t die but enhances all life it touches.

I see a clearer image of the healing power of the word

”no”. 

I see guts, and bravado and gaudy humor and touch of Devine scarlet self pity.

I see an expanding of the love of the pause—of the listen. 

I see others, too, in the mirror.

 Not so much in a line, like in ’79 or invisible,but, more in a circle all with darks and lights that interlock or don’t here and there but form a union and unity just the same..

And, ya know, I truly believe that there ain’t much I gotta do. I t just lives itself through me. Guess I just got to ease up  and let it live, laugh, dance, cry, scream, be , create, waltz through me!

End of entry

Notes: 6/3/2024

In the 1980’s I married a woman, woke up to the fact I was gay, left the marriage before we had children. I worked with people with Aids and helped them through their illness and death through an organization called Han to Hand and another called the Stanislaus County Aids Project. I wrote in coffee house like Espresso Cafe and I journaled through the entire decade. 

[royaltysimblr]

Their Royal Highnesses The Prince and Princess Waldemar of Norden

Prince Waldemar was born in 1769 to Karl Duke of Norden and Princess Helene of Vasa. Waldemar was the youngest son and child of the ducal couple. He was born at Schloss Lutzow and was christened at its private chapel as Prince Waldemar Fredrick Axel. Waldemar grew up close to his older sisters Viktoria and Elisabeth and shared a governess with them until he was 9 years whereupon he was educated by private tutors. Waldemar had almost no prospects of inheriting the Norden Throne despite being second in line. Waldemar’s older brother, Wilhelm, was ten years older than him and was perfectly healthy. Waldemar was not particularly close to his older brother in his youth, but in their adulthood he became his closest confidant at court. Waldemar was 13 when his sister Maria Theresa died and 15 when his father Karl died. Waldemar had been particularly close to his father and his death deeply saddened him. The rest of Waldemar’s education was overseen by his uncle Prince Stanislaus of Polstein who had several highly regarded Eusalian generals teach him. As he had no prospect in ruling, he became a lieutenant in the Augustinian Army. Waldemar’s mother Helene retired from court and let Waldemar’s aunt Princess Adelaide find a bride for him. Adelaide had very little contacts internationally and struggled to find a bride for a prince who did not rule in his own right. Adelaide found Princess Cecile of Munster for Waldemar to marry. They met for the first time at the christening of his nephew, Prince Gustaf of Rostock at the Schloss Rostock in 1789. Cecile came from a poor family who were overthrown in 1770 by Wurzburg who incorporated the Duchy of Munster into their territory. Cecile grew up living with her wealthier aunt, Princess Theresa Duchess of Newport who had married one of the oldest noblemen of Windenburg. Cecile was beautiful and was skilled in literature, writing multiple novels under a pen name. In 1791, the couple were married at the private chapel of the Brunsbuttel Palace. Waldemar and Cecile had a happy marriage, probably the happiest out of all of his siblings. Cecile would give birth to two healthy daughters, Princess Christine in 1792, and Princess Carolina in 1795. The couple had apartments in Brunsbuttel Palace and Schloss Lutzow but mostly resided at a townhouse in Innsbruck where Waldemar commanded a regiment. Cecile often attended the imperial court at Innsbruck and befriended her sister-in-law, Archduchess Paulina of Augustinia former Princess of Norden. Cecile hosted many society balls in Innsbruck and was at the center of attention at the imperial capital. Cecile continued to write books about life at the imperial court under the name Countess Donawitz. Waldemar and Cecile returned to Norden in 1807 with their two daughters. In 1809, their eldest daughter, Princess Christine was married to Prince George of Lubeck, the second son of the reigning Prince of Lubeck. Christine and her mother had a warm relationship with each other and corresponded with each other daily. Cecile has a horrible relationship with her mother In law, Helene who resents her for her low status. Cecile and her sister-in-law, Magdalene of Wurzburg, the current Duchess of Norden, originally had a bad relationship with each other. Cecile hated her initially for Wurzburg’s invasion of Munster and held that against Magdalene. However, their relationship became better when Helene started to snub them both. Cecile and Magdalene have formed their own new social circle in response to their mother-in-law’s isolation of the two princesses. Waldemar, Cecile, Magdalene, and Wilhelm continue to have a great relationship with each other. Waldemar has been a great comfort to his older brother Wilhelm during his period of illness. 

[blindrapture]

WEDNESDAY JULY 27TH, 2011 (Maybes and Mysteries)

12:20 AM huhwake. donnie wants to switch, she needs sleep. where are we. manteca. outside a wal-mart. she's showing me the road map.

12:23 AM went outside for a minute. pissed on a tree. stretched my legs. I may not know exactly where to take us, but all we need to find is one camper, and we'll be talking to all of them.

12:24 AM there's a river not too far from here. water's good, right? stay along the water. okay. sleep well, donnie.

1:06 AM Slowing down. The other two are still asleep. Gonna trawl along here a bit. I think this is the Stanislaus River.

1:13 AM Dead silent around here. I have the window open and there's no sound, no wind, no monster noises, nothing. Town of Riverbank and it's a ghost town.

1:21 AM Circled around. Only thing of note, and it is pretty noteworthy, is that big black dog waiting on every corner, watching our car drive by. I'm taking that as my cue to move on. Nothing for us here.

1:32 AM Oakdale now. Same as before, following the river, circling around. Not stopping for that dog.

1:37 AM I thought it was just as quiet here, but when I slow to a stop, roll down the window, and listen real close, I can just about hear a powerful thump. thump. thump. in the distance. We heard that on the border when we were just entering California. What is it? Oil pump-things? It's too regular to be anything natural. … thump. thump. thump. Reminds me of the thumpers from Half-Life 2. Highway 17. .… thump... thump... thump… Yeah, I don't know. I'd better keep driving. Not hearing anything else.

1:59 AM I've circled around Oakdale. I sure hope I'm doing something smart here.

2:25 AM This town's called Waterford. It's on the Tuolumne. It's even smaller than Riverbank.

2:27 AM Is that...? Something humanoid laying on the road. Slowly raising its head to look at us. Dead eyes. EAT...? ...it growled at me and its jaw fell off. Just a zombie. Thanks for nothing.

2:45 AM sighhhh. I've parked on a bridge on Hickman Road. Got out of the car, leaned on the railing, looked out at the river below. There's a park down there, lot of trees. I got to wondering about birds, birds singing in trees. I still see them on our travels, even through all of this. I always liked birds. Their jittery movement and iterative singing remind me of myself. Always looking, taking things in. Always taking flight.

2:46 AM ...birds.

2:51 AM I drove around to access the park directly. River Park. Creative name. There's gotta be birds in here. ..almost got out of the car and went in there by myself. And ordinarily I would. But I think this time I ought to do things right.

2:52 AM Donnie? "hm?" Donnie, I'm going to go looking for EAT. I want you to come with me. "…" So I'm not charging into the Fears by myself. "Yeah, yeah, I'm waking up..."

2:53 AM Woke up Tiger too. We want him to stay in the car, he can go back to sleep if he wants, but. We had to tell him we're going off and will be back. I had to tell him about EAT. If he has any suspicions, he didn't voice them. We did literally just wake him up.

2:55 AM Donnie took a moment to change back into her combat suit. It's, uh, quite worn by now, but I'm sure it still offers some protection. Now we're heading into the park. "Do you expect to see Camper here or something?" No, I expect to see birds. And I expect them to see us.

2:59 AM We're sitting at a park bench. There's, uh. Yep. There's definitely birds here. In the trees. One or two walking around on the ground, pecking at bugs. Must be nocturnal. … Yep. ..this will be boring, I'm sorry. … "..what if these are all just regular birds?" Then at least we've done some birdwatching?

3:15 AM Ah! Fell.. fell asleep for a bit there. Donnie. Donnie, wake up. Something's splashing in the river.

3:16 AM That's a giant ice-blue tentacle rising out of the water, as wide as a small building, its tip curling like a question mark. It's a piece of something far bigger underneath, something squeezing its girth short in order to navigate the river. The skin of the tentacle makes a stretching and pulling sound as it moves in the air. Makes me cringe. o_e A mass of thinner strings come out of the river too, waving in the air, thin as hair, long as needs be. The tip of the large tentacle splits into... more hairs. It's made up of tightly-pressed strings. And a mass, a bulge, comes up inside the tentacle from under the water… Writhing up, and up, towards the splitting tip… ...it's a human. The head just emerged, between the strings at the tip of the thing, like from the throat of a colossal snake. ..eyes opened. They look like black holes from down here. It opened its mouth, spewing water and seaweed. ..Sal..ma..cis...? o___o A wheezing hiss. A hissing wheeze. Two arms wrench themselves out of the 'throat.' Followed by three more, one coming out of the stomach. Coughing, heaving. A voice gives a faint whisper too far away to hear. Masses of waterdrops splatter on the grassy riverbank. Donnie's starting to step back. I look back up, and the tentacle is rearing into the air, preparing to

3:18 AM ..eject the Camper in a vicious slam. It has so many legs. A whole skirt of legs. And it's clambering up to face us, standing now on the grass with us. Its neck is not rigid. The head swings around as a ball on a string. And the voice that comes out is nothing more than a whisper, voiced only on the inhales. "Raeeel. Viiictooooriiiaaaa." I just gulped. Or was that it? "I ammm aaaa herrrrrrr." Wh. What? "It. And herrrrr. Neverrr... sheeeee." But I. But I didn't say anything. "You wrooote it iiiin your jourrrnal." How… cough. cough. stagger. Wheeze. "The birds are my eyyyyes. As you fi..ured out." R..right.. of course. "Doo not beee so.. mod..est. It is unbecoming. You stand now before a... g... g.... g…" it vomited teeth. a lung. "a god. your. god." Salmacis, you're... you're freaking us the fuck out. Do you.. have any.. other... Camper?? That we can speak to?? "But Raeeel. This one is not a" gulp "Camper. This. is. ....the. Eardrum." donnie "It's really fascinating, and all, but please! Please, EAT! The voice is getting in my head!" "You twooo are. priiivileeeged. to see it. I do not liike. to bring it. out. of the waaaterr. out of. my booodyyy." But your other Camper are still too far? "Yes…" ........may I sit down? o_e for a moment.. "you may."

3:24 AM had my.. head in my hands for a moment. kinda wish I was dreaming right now. ...salmacis can read this. look, I just. I'm. I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't ready. Donnie's seated next to me, and she's talking to the.. the Eardrum. "We're sorry that we got you killed. Or, you know what I mean. But we need your help even more now." "Yes. I am listeningg…" "The RAF have far more numbers than we thought, including armed soldiers. They plan on destroying the Golden Gate Bridge, and they want us back in the city at noon for that. I fear they have bigger plans." yeah, and. the bikers bolted after our conversation. after Cody... fucking Cody… The Eardrum is looking at neither of us. Arms aren't reacting. It is standing perfectly still. "I am.. listeniiing." No, I believe you, I'm filling the silence with description! "Is this. All?" "Uh. I guess so." "I was afraaaid. They had. Threatened your.. liives." ... .w.;; "I was aware of all of this. After Codyyy's ac..tions... I con..siderred.. it.. top prioorityy.. to monitor with my birds. I have seen the truck..ss... and I have heard.. the speech... and I know where.... the bikers are..." donnie "We have Tiger with us. He's the one whose sister Cody killed. We had to get him out of there, and we had to come up with a plan. We don't want to just let this happen." "And you want..." head swivels to face her "revenge." Yes. We want to know when your Camper will get here. facing me now. "Of courrse." ..the Eardrum skitters and moves around the park. Its Her legs move her frighteningly quickly and turn her on a dime. She It stops in the middle of the grass. Birds fly to it, perch on its arms. Little birds, nothing seemingly wrong with them at all. "They are not far now." ..a noise in the distance. like a bunch of humans making one big screech. which is probably exactly what it was? "See. You could.. hearrr them. That is how close they are. I would say.. 24 miles." That's close! O: "It will take them... only... another six hours…" donnie "Couldn't we go and.. pick them up? Drive them?" "Too many. But some... will be able to.. fly. I am still workinnngg on their DNA. Each body's must be... edi..ted.... from.. scraaaatch." ...Salmacis, I'm almost afraid to just come out and ask this, but. ..looking at me. .....what are you? "I am the end.. of all... things. Not the termin..al.... ennnd... but the goal… of all commun...i...caaa...tion... all cooper..ation.... all e..vo...lu...tion.…" skittering towards us, aaaa "I am... your... god." donnie "There's a lot of those going around lately." "I was... your god... befooorrre.... any of them.… I was above you... you were only an experiment…" it's wheezing as air struggles to fill her lungs. "With enough... drug..g... g.... g.....gs... your species caught a glimpse... but then you feared... and you turned.. to tobacco.. and alco..hol... I think your fear.. came from... a re..a..liz..a..tion.... that your bodies... were so dear to you… you would rather.. be... buried... as the body.. that you were.. born... into…" wheeeeze.... wheeze… "Regarrrd..less... I have told you e..nough... talking is so slow…" skittering back to the river "I leave you. For now. I would advise... waiting in your.. car.... for my Cam..perrr… to arrive…" Uh. Alright. o_o; "Be.. seeing... you…"

3:30 AM The large tentacle stretched once more, opening up and consuming the Eardrum in one brisk motion. It's.. more accustomed to grabbing than to letting go… And back into the water it went, and onwards down the river.

3:31 AM Donnie and I are just. Here. Looking at the river. Looking at the car. Looking at each other. … I, uh. I still.. feel like it's kinda friendly? Relatively speaking. "It's.. definitely still working with us?" It's not mad that we got a Camper killed. "I think it is, actually. Just not mad at us." Could you imagine being EAT's enemy? As just a human? ..quick shaking of the head. "I don't.. want to.. think about that." Yeah. Yeah. … "I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while." God, no. Am real tired, though. "Do you want to just. Lie on this park bench... together?" Do you want EAT to watch? The birds? "I kinda don't care about that right now. It might help me feel more control over myself." ...well, sure! :D

9:54 AM Woke up still in Donnie's arms. Her on my chest... .w. Then I remembered where we were, gently placed her on the bench, and surveyed the area. Sun's out, there's a bit more noise coming from Waterford, barks and yowls, but it all sounds like small animals. There's nothing around us. Only the trees, and the birds. ..the car's empty. Don't know where Tiger went. I'll have a look for him. Will leave my trilby here with Donnie, so she can at least figure that I'll be back.

10:01 AM Found him coming out of an old shop. He was just stretching his legs, checking out the area. Yeah, I figured it was something like that. "Listen, we should really be heading back by now. It's gonna take us a while to hit San Francisco." Yeah... we will, I promise. But we're still waiting on that backup. "The Fear thing?" It's a Fear we trust. Is that okay? 'Cause if it's not, you don't have to be a part of it, and I have no interest in threatening you. No judgement. "Right now, I just want to fuck up his plans. I don't care. He's so uptight about those Fears; it'd be great to give him reason to be." Good to hear. :) So, did you find anything in these shops? "Peanuts. Juice you gotta add water to. Some rice cakes, ate those."

10:03 AM On the way back to the car, we heard a heavy flapping in the air. There, on the horizon! "Is that a flying man? ..is that an angel?" It's the first sign of our backup. :D

10:05 AM Donnie's up, and wearing my hat. She's gazing at the sky, the Camper fast approaching. flap. flap. flap. flap. it's a black man, shirtless, in jeans, with the hideous wings of flesh. it's slowing down. gonna land.

10:08 AM "Rael. Victoria. ..Tiger." Kinda giving up with the prog theming? "There are songs with tigers in them." donnie "Are the rest of the Camper still on the way?" "They will not make it to San Francisco in time for the burning of the bridge, but they will be here in time for the Archangel's undead masses." tiger "Zombies? Masses of them?" "You have never seen them in such dense quantities. I told you, Rael, that they were coming?" You did. "They will be here later today. And so will my Camper. For now, would you like me to ride with you?" Uh. Will those wings... fit? It's not a massive car... "I can ride on top. It will give me a chance to practice physical coordination." Uh! I mean, yeah, look, you can do whatever you want, Salmacis. But we've gotta get moving.

11:48 AM It was an eventful car ride. When Salmacis wasn't balancing on the roof of a moving car, it was clinging to the driver's side door, arm hooked through the open window, so it could talk to me. It would often give me better directions on how to save time on our route, but also EAT filled me in on the bikers' activities (they're not.. really very good at finding rabbit holes. they just keep stopping to get drunk). And, as we started to see the city in the distance, EAT latched onto the door again to, finally, talk about a plan. EAT talked us out of the flanking idea, as we're only going to raise hostility that way. So we'll rejoin the group back at the house. We think there's not much we can do traditionally, but we could use the RAF's paranoia against themselves... if we can expose Heaven as not being who she seems. It's her plan. And if the RAF realizes they've been doing the Archangel's dirty work, they should abandon the plan. ...and, if EAT can get some people away from the group, we could have more Camper to work with… Donnie was pretty alarmed at that idea, so I got EAT to promise it would only try that if it really had to. Then Tiger added that it could take the armed guards. They're going to have to lug equipment to the bridge somehow, so they'll probably have a guard take a truckful each. There's gonna be a time when they're working alone and vulnerable. Nobody had anything to say about that. It's.. just plain a good idea. And Salmacis left our car as we entered the urban areas. Flew off to her own designs.

12:03 PM We arrived at the RAF house, or, well, we parked a few blocks away and got through the crowds, to find Heaven glad to see us.

12:09 PM "Okay, everyone! Today's the day! I hope you're good with walking, because it should take us at least three hours to get to the bridge! If you think you're particularly strong and able-bodied, come and talk to Cody about hauling equipment, whether onto trucks, or carrying it all the way yourself! If you're really unable to walk, also see Cody, and he'll see what accommodations we have, but otherwise, we're leaving now!" okay. okay I think that bodes well.

12:25 PM Massive march of people. Not.. marching, just all following each other. That's how marches usually are in practice, isn't it? It's only on the final approach that even armies really switch into lockstep. And I don't even know about, like. Protests. Tiger's got his friends. Even with all the regulars for the Party House, we're dwarfed by sheer numbers. I don't know if he's telling them anything. Donnie's with me, but as we're around the front, she's keeping an eye on Cody.

12:49 PM There's a sign up ahead for a Twin Peaks. o_o I don't think that's got anything to do with this. Just, cool.

1:11 PM We're not passing anyone at all. All the shops are shut. There aren't even any loose zombies. The sky is a perfect blue without any flickering whatsoever.

1:33 PM Heaven? Are we gonna stop for food, or breaks, or anything? "No breaks. We get one chance at this. We work for the cause." Don't we have people who might not be able to keep up a walk for that long? "We work for the cause. We just need numbers. Even if 70% makes it up to the bridge, that's more than enough." ..cody's eyeing her. "..what?" "This isn't like you." "I'm sorry you feel that way. But we're doing something important here. I have a chance to make a difference, and I guess that's just my priority here." "It's a bridge. It'll still be here after a break. The kid's got a point, Hev." "Cody, we need to be a team on this." … … "..alright."

1:34 PM Cody's asked a message to spread back through the crowds: If you have food with you, you'd may as well eat while walking. And consider sharing if anyone else really needs it.

1:37 PM ...fuck it. We got any slim jims left?

2:27 PM I'm finally seeing some form of life up ahead. But it's the black dog. ..nobody's saying a thing about it. Hey, uh. Cody? "What." You do know that dog there's a Fear, right? "...no, I did not know that. Heaven, that—" "I see it. It's not doing anything. If it attacks anyone, then we can deal with it." "But it's a damn Fear." "Says who? The 'kid?' Didn't you think he was a Fear once?" "Alright, what are you fucking doing? Don't try to piss me off." "All I'm saying is, it's a dog. And maybe it's just a dog." argghh

2:30 PM found the old journal. The Black Dog, the Omen. It was July 14th, it was literally another branch of the RAF that told me. Cody, we should at least do something. You and me. "Eh.. it is just staring at us as we pass by. What is it gonna do? It's a dog." Cody, c'mon, man. We're Rise Against Fear. It's in the name. "I.. I know." If we don't know what it can do, that's more reason to be wary. "Yeah…" C'mon, man. What are your instincts saying? You saved us from that Sally thing. "I'm feeling similar now. I'm clocking it, and I don't like it." heaven "I am not going to stop this march." "For fuck's sake, Heaven, I wasn't asking you to." grabbing his gun "I can deal with this myself. Jordan, I want you with me."

2:31 PM I followed him as he pulled back from the front, as we'd passed it up here, but it was still watching everyone pass by. Cody told me to watch his back, and crouched low and approached it. Tried to treat it like a regular dog at first. Then it bit his hand. Jumped at him, bit at his shoulder, took out a.. not insignificant chunk. I whacked it with Tiger Stripes and shouted for the group nearby to hang back, go around us, give us space. Cody got a good look into its eyes, and his face turned pale, but then he got a big surge of adrenaline and grabbed the dog with both arms and ripped it off of him, chucked it to the ground. And shot it clean in the eye. And it growled at him, growled at us, and stormed off. As soon as it passed behind some of the crowd, I lost sight of it completely. Like it vanished. Cody got a towel off of a stranger, wet it with someone's water bottle, and covered his shoulder. And he thanked me and got back to the front. Staring daggers at Heaven, who didn't even seem to notice.

2:33 PM Donnie thinks that wasn't the greatest plan, but it did something. ...what the fuck is the point of that dog.

3:05 PM Heaven's sending another message back through the crowd. We'll be there soon. And around about now, the trucks will drive up to meet us. Good. Not the biggest fan of walking. And won't we have to walk all the way back after?

3:31 PM At last. Golden Gate Bridge. Hoo, man. Now that we're actually standing on the thing, staring ahead at a perfectly straight road, I'm seeing just how big it is. It'd probably take us a full half-hour to walk to the other side. It's strange. I can hear that thumping again. thump. thump. It is not in the distance. It's just on the other side of the bridge.

3:32 PM Here come the trucks, through a parting crowd. Behind them is a flatbed truck carrying a full-on wrecking ball. Donnie and I are looking carefully at the drivers, trying to see if we can tell that any are EAT. But they're all wearing wraparound sunglasses, so the eyes won't help us.

3:34 PM Heaven's turned to face the crowd. "Okay, we're here! We'll have the trucks set up the explosives on the far end of the bridge. We'll have a wrecking ball to the supports, the 'gates' themselves. And all I need you good people to do is pack yourselves in on this side. The rich are going to come running out, just you watch, they're going to want to save the bridge and stop us, and we just want you to be our shield." Yeah. Yeah, that plan makes no sense. And the sky's still solid. The ants are working overtime to be unnoticed. The Fears are waiting for us to do this, alright.

3:37 PM Things are still being set up. But one guard has gotten out of his truck. He's gone to Heaven, says there's a problem. "What? What's wrong?" "It's a problem with the equipment." taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. "Yes? Which one, exactly?" now he's looking into her eyes. "..what are you" "I know what you are now." "...uh. Cody, get over here..." "Shut up. And don't you come any closer." pointing gun at Cody without even turning his head. "This woman is an Indisen." "...and you're Salmacis…" cody "What the FUCK is GOING ON?" heaven's shouting to the sky "DO IT! DO IT NOW!"

3:38 PM thunderous quakes. the far end of the bridge bends and crumbles. except that wasn't an explosion. that's pairs of thick black legs. stepping on each truck, crushing it and the driver inside. marching in true lockstep. the sky turns red as a storm of buzzing black dots swirls and scatters. people start to turn and run, but behind us is a mass of people we don't recognize. they're not zombies. and I don't think they're Camper. I think they're Indisen. they're pushing against the crowd, pushing us up onto the bridge. up towards the walking legs. stretching up, infinitely, into the sky. lifting up off the ground, stepping forward, and thudding down. thump. thump. crush. glass smash. choking screams. a fire spreads on the far end of the bridge, behind the walking legs. and a man in a gas mask is suddenly with us now, floating slightly above the ground.

3:40 PM "Salmacis, what are you doing?" the camper is strangling heaven. or trying to, with the other hand pointing a gun rather pointlessly at a Cody who is too busy freaking out at the massive stampede of stimuli to pay attention. "Really, I thought you were smarter than this. You're trying to strangle an Indisen?" "I'll strangle you next, Death." "They were your bodies once. Did a lack of air stop them then?" he got his hands on Heaven and pulled her away from the Camper. EAT "Goddammit, Archangel, what elaborate lengths did you go through to set all this up?!" archie "Nothing I wasn't working on already. A little bit of populism, gaming the humans' animal brains, their communal justice. Easy as piss. And the Indisen were gathering here for some reason anyway. They were ready to give the city away. I merely.. agreed to it." "The Ants of the Sky, are they yours too?" "What, these?" ...faster than a bullet, stopping on a dime, landing on the bridge are two robots, bigger than some helicopters, grey and sharp all over, with edges and wires bending their joints. on the front is a big beady camera-eye, surrounded by dozens of tinier cameras. the arms terminate in beehive-like holes, gun barrels. there are no legs. it's a round body with two gun arms. "Not to brag, but they're quite genius little death machines, aren't they? Stylish, modern, military-grade. I paid those corporations more money than they'd ever seen before to build to my specifications, but when I turned them on, I got my money back and then some." ..heaven's silent, in archie's arms, eyes darting between the camper and cody. and me. EAT "Certainly, the design is interesting. Its capabilities surprise me. But this doesn't change the fact that your plans are always so... unsophisticated." "Excuse me?" with a chuckle "A populist march in a time of uncertainty and struggle? It's so trite even the humans were doing it. Machines that target financial transactions... okay, that is certainly creative, for you, but then you just.. what, introduce your own currency? Z's yours too, isn't it? You replace a system with the exact same system? What, were you competing with the dollar? You thought of humanity as equal to you, your competition? Where's your imagination? Where's that intelligence you boast about?" "..oh, I see now. You're getting wit and thorn from the humans. You're protecting them... or is it just him? He is your protégé? Has he seen the extent of your horrors yet? That won't even matter, will it? You're not going to let him go. He's gone from one puppetmistress to another." "The difference between you and I, Archangel, is that I can perceive of many possibilities, while you are limited to your own." "Whatever. People are dying, and I grow ever stronger. That's all I'm hearing right"BANG … Cody shot Heaven in the head. She's limp. Archie tosses her to the ground. Okay, good, you're back in the moment now. cody "Fucking traitorous Fear freaks." Archie allows his own feet to touch the ground, no longer vaguely levitating, floating in the conversation. Walks up to Cody. "You. You work for me. Did I tell you to do that?" cody "I don't work for you, you jackass." "Really? You've been doing my work. You've been killing my enemies. You even recruited for my church. Thanks for that, by the way." "I—" bang. Cody falls to the ground, a hole in his stomach. all it took was a single shot, from several feet away, by one of the ants of the sky. "You work for me now." ..and cody gets back up from the dead. cody is a zombie. donnie screamed with grief. donnie, don't.. point that thing. I think you're better off using it on the Indisen that are currently tearing through innocent people. I think we're better off running now.

3:44 PM Tiger! C'mon, we're fighting our way out of this! "What happened to Cody?" He's dead! "And the EAT thing?" Still back there, talking to the Fear that caused all this! Don't worry, it knows what it's doing! Just, we gotta GO! Before the legs make it across the bridge!

3:47 PM indisen are a lot tougher than zombies. they fight back, they grab at your weapons, they flat-out don't want to die. we're having trouble here. tiger has a knife, which he's at least able to use, but. donnie lost her rifle.

3:48 PM Oh! That's why we're not dead yet! The winged Camper is here fighting the crowd! Tearing sharp mutated claws into throat and limb, wafting gusts of wind with heavy wings to keep Indisen clear. Our guardian angel… Tiger! Donnie! Stick with our Camper!!!

3:51 PM "Rael!" shouting over the sound of the crowd Yeah, EAT? "He's killed the Camper on the bridge!" Well, were you able to get any more information out of him first? "No, we mostly just insulted each other!" So, am I understanding correctly that he pretty much just did this to get more zombies? "And crush morale, yes! But I believe he also desired to work with the Indisen in order to better learn about them!"

3:55 PM CRASH ..lightning just struck the ground ahead of us and now there's a lot more fighting going on over there. EAT, can you see what's going on? "It's someone in a mask. They came out of the lightning, with their... is that a Jesus Christ mask?" Cockroach Jesus? o__o "What? No, this is a human." Oh. Oh, the Masked Massacrer! What the fuck is he doing here. Or, one of... them… donnie "Maybe he really wanted to kill some Indisen?"

3:56 PM THE MASKED MASSACRER IS RUNNING ON THE CROWDS' HEADS like in a damn action movie

4:19 PM the crowd is thinning out we're getting out of it

4:22 PM the camper is staying here to fight the indisen and let us make our escape. thank you, salmacis.

7:37 PM The long walk back was set to the sound of distant slaughter and crashes. At some point, there was a tremendous creaking, turning into screeching, and a large noise. That was the Golden Gate Bridge finally collapsing. There's a glow on the horizon as coastal fires rage. We've arrived at our car.

7:38 PM We've been looking at each other, exhausted. We need to get in the car and drive until we can't see San Francisco any longer. We know this. But the long walk.. the long day.. the long week… It's weighing on all of us.

7:42 PM We returned to the RAF House. It's completely empty here. Everything's happening three hours away. We think we can afford to sleep.

8:08 PM We shared a dinner. Heaven still had food stocked in the cupboards and a working oven. We made some simple pasta and sauce. Tiger's sleeping in the living room, on the couch. Donnie and I will sleep in our cots.

8:10 PM She's sitting on the cot, taking off her shoes. Body still throbbing with adrenaline. Brain still abuzz with what ifs. "What if we'd gone to Los Angeles instead?" Then we wouldn't have met Tiger. "You feel a responsibility for him." I do. Because I took so long to tell him. "It's a good thing to feel. I still feel responsibility for trusting Cody so much." He.. wasn't all bad. He was a lying, manipulative, paranoid man, but he had a principle and he stuck to it. "You don't have to defend him, baby." getting into bed "He's.. dead... and I'll miss him, parts of him.. I'll miss the memories. But we're back to how we were again. Just you and me, against the world." And Tiger, now. "Yeah. He's like our son." Pfft. He's gotta only be, like, a year younger than me. "And two years younger than me." Do you think he'll be receptive to our trips through the rabbit holes? "He'll probably think it's a kick. An adventure." Kinda like I do, yeah. "They are kinda like little adventures, each world, aren't they? They have such a weird design to them." Like a video game. A whole little story, a whole lot of little stories. "That outlook of yours, I might be coming around to it. If we have to go searching for those bikers in the rabbit holes, even if we have to go all the way to the Cipher ourselves just to stop them from dealing the finishing blow, I.. I think I'm up for it." But we probably won't have to. EAT's got an eye on those bikers with her birds. EAT may even try to trick them and lead them away from any Doors. "Maybe. But then we can always go down some rabbit holes anyway, just for the sake of it." Yeah. I'd like to see something other than this city again. "This world… this crazy, neverending power struggle of a world…"

11:11 PM We fell asleep not long after that. I find I've woken up by myself again. Like. She's still here, still asleep. But just me has woken up.

11:12 PM I took a look around the house. Figured I'd let Tiger sleep. He's a really quiet sleeper.

11:13 PM The glow outside is spreading. I can see it from the kitchen window. Trying not to think about how many people must have died. ...all of them?

11:14 PM ..hang on. Tiger's not asleep. He's not on the couch. I didn't see him at all in the house. Is he outside?

11:15 PM ....oh. ._. A window on the top floor is open that wasn't before. And here, on the street outside… Oh… Goddammit.

11:16 PM What choice did he have? Traveling with two kids, barely older than him, who are working with another monster. And he might have had other choices if we hadn't come here. 'Cause I can't help but wonder if I was what pushed Cody over the edge. Bringing Donnie here to reopen old… But, like, that doesn't.. make sense, does it? This was just a kid taking control of himself in the middle of Hell. Taking control back...

11:20 PM Goddammit. All the Maybes in my head. All the shit going wrong.

(Attached: “I am wrought with Maybes and mysteries. Recall the anecdote I shared much further back, where a Camper pointed me down a Door and my next memory was waking up in a bus stop in the rain. That memory goes somewhere. I sat in the bus stop for ten minutes, thinking thoughts that weren’t mine. When’s it gonna arrive? I guess I could read more Discworld while I wait, but it’s such a hassle to have to keep looking up from my book, and then when the bus does come I’ll have to take myself out of the immersion and I hate that. I looked around, not in curiosity of my new environment but in the bored glance of a familiar place I’ve grown so tired of seeing. I remember a stone wall opposite me, across a single-lane road. I never looked at the sky, instead at the wall with the line ’FISH AND CHIPS 1.10p SPECIAL’ written on a hanging chalkboard. I saw someone walking up the road from the right, heading towards the bus stop. A new thought entered my head: Oh good, he’s here. The person’s face flickered for a second, and then their entire shape flickered before settling on a form I’d recognize: The Sempiternity, my blindfolded friend, the Fear of forever, who knew more of me than I of them.

They raised a hand in greeting, and I nodded my head in return. We had a conversation about the weather. Apparently, we were due for rain in the coming week, followed by months of snow. Not a single decipherable word was exchanged, only droning voices from both our mouths. But still the information conveyed. More thoughts came to me. Perhaps if I kill him now, the world will never know? I’ll leave. No one will see. No one will know. No one will remember. I pictured two cats in a microwave, clawing at the door and struggling for footing on the spinning plate. I’ll remember. Droning came out of my mouth, followed by more from Sempi. We had just exchanged secrets. I felt some information leave my mind, information I still cannot remember but that I swear must have meant something. I felt some information enter in return-- Sheet music for a piece in D# minor, still permanently frozen in my mind to this day. Playing the piano part recently felt like rediscovering an old love that never existed. The Sempiternity droned something I did not understand. I looked at their face and saw, for a second, seven eyes through their blindfold. This is it, isn’t it? This is the moment I die, the moment I finally atone for what I’ve done. Coestts has come for me, come to take my thoughts away, come to leave my body wandering emptily through life with no meaning behind my eyes. That’s when the bus arrived. I paid my ticket, and sat down near the front.

We rode mostly in silence. Other people sat behind us, filling the bus. A window was open. It was cold. I looked out the window for most of the ride. I saw nothing, nothing I can remember anyway. My thoughts were absent. It was boring. At one point, Sempi spoke. The information entering my head this time pertained to some ancient civilization, now extinct. Their religion outlasted their culture, with practitioners executing innocents in hopes of one day being forgiven. I asked a question, something about rumors. The slender man answered. One remained from the ancient civilization, an immortal sage who led his murderous people throughout more than just history. Sempi ended the droning, leaving one thought floating in my head. We’re going to see his tomb. The bus stopped, and the door opened. The events which transpired afterwards proceeded, in succession, less lucidly than even those before. In recollection, I cannot hope to transcribe their accuracy, let alone nuance of meaning, any more than I might hope to interpret a dream.

TOMB OF TURIN The Sempiternity and I walked, through a gift shop, down a narrow stone staircase into the dark depths of deteriorated dominion. The stairs crumbled and rumbled, promising unsafe travels and refusing to ascertain our return.

TURN AROUND NOW We surfaced at a chamber with faded red carpet and unlit candles. Sealed treasure chests of varying size littered the area, with locks unable to be opened for so long that they’d corroded. A throne of glass loomed over the room. However, the central features, despite all this majesty, were the paintings above the throne.

MOVING PICTURES One king, elected despot, contradicted logic. He ate children across the sands, one family at a time. His name was Neferkaapep. Neferkaweneg appealed to Thoth, gun in hand. Neferkaapophis conquered sky in his father’s name. Ma’at at feet of Neferkaapepi. Weneg breaking the door open, ascended. Horus and Osiris dreading darkness, and Nyarlathotep carrying black paint.

WINDOWS Ra’s boat, rebuilt, seeing great lands again. Mama Qucha doing Ch’aska Quyllur’s job. Hermes and his hairless heart. Trees with no leaves.

NAMES Neferkaapep Neferkaapepi Neferkaapophis Turin Onnekas kameelperd

PREPOSITIONAL PHRASE In the next room, there stood the sarcophagus itself. It was empty. The coffin's interior swallowed us, sending us careening into an abysmal expanse. I could no longer see the Sempiternity; instead I saw what the blind see. More on this later.“)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[art-of-manliness]

The 15 Most Sobering Quotes About Getting Old

Over the life course, people’s happiness tends to follow a U-shaped curve; it begins to decline around the age of 18 and hits its lowest point around age 47 or 48, at which point it starts to go back up again. Researchers aren’t sure why happiness follows this trajectory. Our personal hypothesis is that after young adulthood, and especially in one’s thirties and forties, an individual can viscerally feel his vitality, his life juices, slowly draining away, and he grieves this loss. By the time he nears 50, he’s forgotten what the buoyancy of youth felt like, so he no longer mourns its memory. A depressing theory, I know. But it’s not a bad thing to view the aging process through a sobering lens. There are upsides of aging, and plenty of quotes out there that affirm its advantages. But around here, we find that reciting bleaker mantras to each other is actually a rather life-affirming thing to do.  A lot of people are fixated on how they plan to stay healthy and active into old age, and this is a great goal to which to aspire. But no matter how much stretching and green smoothie drinking you do, you’re never going to feel the same at 70 as you do at 30. Thinking about how vital you’re going to stay in elderhood, about how much good time you have left, after all, is a way of denying the inevitabilities of mortality — of escaping the responsibility of making the very most of the present moment.  The key to cultivating that carpe diem attitude is staying ever cognizant of the fact that old age comes for everyone, and always involves some loss. The following quotes can be a help in that.  This kind of reflection is worth regularly engaging in regardless of your age; after all, no matter how far advanced you are in years, you’ll never be as young as you are right now.  “After thirty a man wakes up sad every morning.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson “No snow falls lighter than the snow of age; but none lies heavier, for it never melts.” —L.N. Child “When we are young, we are slavishly employed in procuring something whereby we may live comfortably when we grow old; and when we are old, we perceive it is too late to live as we proposed.” —Alexander Pope “Every one desires to live long, but no one would be old.” —Jonathan Swift “Nothing is more disgraceful than that an old man should have nothing to show to prove that he has lived long, except his years.” —Seneca “A person is always startled when he hears himself seriously called old for the first time.” —O. W. Holmes “Age that lessens the enjoyment of life, increases our desire of living.” —Oliver Goldsmith “Men of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full period, but content themselves with a mediocrity of success.” —Francis Bacon “Without fullness of experience, length of days is nothing. When fullness of life has been achieved, shortness of days is nothing. That is perhaps why the young . . . have usually so little fear of death; they live by intensities that the elderly have forgotten.” —Lewis Mumford “As we advance in life, the circle of our pains enlarges, while that of our pleasures contracts.” —Sophie Swetchine “Old age adds to the respect due to virtue, but it takes nothing from the contempt inspired by vice; it whitens only the hair.” —J. P. Senn “Old age is a tyrant, which forbids the pleasures of youth on pain of death.” —François de La Rochefoucauld “Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is the youth of old age.” —Victor Hugo “How many fancy they have experience simply because they have grown old.” —Stanislaus “Childhood sometimes does pay a second visit to a man; youth never.” —Anna Jameson The post The 15 Most Sobering Quotes About Getting Old appeared first on The Art of Manliness. http://dlvr.it/Swkb38

[wikiuntamed]

Five steps of Wikipedia for Tuesday, 2nd January 2024

Welcome, bienvenido, fàilte, laipni lūdzam 🤗 Five steps of Wikipedia from "Royal Spring, Warsaw" to "100th meridian east". 🪜👣

Start page 👣🏁: Royal Spring, Warsaw "The Royal Spring (Zdrój Królewski) is a well located in Romuald Traugutt Park on Zakroczymska Street in Warsaw. The spring's building was built in the 18th century, with construction beginning in 1770. It is also called the King Stanislaus Augustus Spring. In the 18th century it was very popular..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0? by Wistula

Step 1️⃣ 👣: Geographic coordinate system "The geographic coordinate system (GCS) is a spherical or geodetic coordinate system for measuring and communicating positions directly on the Earth as latitude and longitude. It is the simplest, oldest and most widely used of the various spatial reference systems that are in use, and forms the basis..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0? by Stefan Kühn (Fotograf)

Step 2️⃣ 👣: 105th meridian east "The meridian 105° east of Greenwich is a line of longitude that extends from the North Pole across the Arctic Ocean, Asia, the Indian Ocean, the Southern Ocean, and Antarctica to the South Pole. Under mean solar time represents the offset of UTC+07:00 time zone. The 105th meridian east forms a..."

Step 3️⃣ 👣: 100th meridian west "The meridian 100° west of the Prime Meridian of Greenwich is a line of longitude that extends from the North Pole across the Arctic Ocean, North America, the Pacific Ocean, the Southern Ocean, and Antarctica to the South Pole. The 100th meridian west forms a great circle with the 80th meridian..."

Step 4️⃣ 👣: 110th meridian east "The meridian 110° east of Greenwich is a line of longitude that extends from the North Pole across the Arctic Ocean, Asia, the Indian Ocean, the Southern Ocean, and Antarctica to the South Pole. The 110th meridian east forms a great circle with the 70th meridian west...."

Step 5️⃣ 👣: 100th meridian east "The meridian 100° east of Greenwich is a line of longitude that extends from the North Pole across the Arctic Ocean, Asia, the Indian Ocean, the Southern Ocean, and Antarctica to the South Pole. The 100th meridian east forms a great circle with the 80th meridian west...."

[terrellsandefur]

Fab Pad. Cool Hood. If you want to live in the best part of Macon, GA check out this house. Thanks to Joanna Jones, Chris Dunn and Georgia Drone Pros for the great video! https://youtu.be/D8tqLz5zyNM

[galleryofunknowns]

Jean Marc Nattier (b.1658 - d.1766), 'Portrait of Marie Therese Geoffrin (b.1715 - d.1791), Marquise de la Ferte Imbault, later d’Estampes, Marquis de Mauny, oil on canvas, c.1739, French, for sale for est. 150,000 - 200,000 USD in Christie’s 'The Private Collection of Jayne Wrightsman', October 2020; New York, NY, USA.

Marie Therese Geoffrin was an eminent salon hostess that rose to French high society following her marriage to the 21 year old Philippe Charles d'Estampes, Marquise de la Ferte-Imbault. He would die only a few years after their marriage and seven months after the birth of their daughter, and Marie Therese would return to her family home and her mother, Mme. Geoffrin. Though not a family of intellectuals, Marie's own natural curiosity and her title soon brought her into contact with many notable writers and thinkers of the day: Montesquieu, Fontenelle, and La Motte Houtard. Eventually her own salon would expand to include such names as Voltaire, Walpole, Diderot and the future King of Poland, Stanislaus Augustus. Even though they resided in the same house, the elder Mme. Geoffrin and Marie Therese would run competing salons, her mother meeting with religiously motivated oppontents to the enlightened ideas of Marie Therese's circle, called the 'Order of Lanturelus'. The portrait can be seen as a kind of preparatory study - though due to its finish, the Wrightsman collection portrait is considered a finished piece in its own right - for a much larger work, currently in the Tokyo Fuji Art Museum (not to be confused with this portrait, also in the same museum).

[nautiscarader]

Wendip Week day 5 - Time Travel

(Ao3) 

Also this was supposed to be short and yet it is 2.5k and still has no plot

==================

- I'm really glad you agreed to help us. - Wendy gave her best friend a kiss to the cheek and waved her children goodbye - We're gonna be by ten. Tyrone, Emma, be good to auntie Tambry. - We'll be back before you know it. - Dipper said, as much to his children, as to the babysitter.

The door to their cozy, two-storey wooden house closed, and the sound of engine soon reached them from the outside, as Dipper and Wendy left for a well-deserved evening alone to celebrate their anniversary. Tambry grabbed a can of Pitt Cola from the kitchen and jumped onto the sofa.

- So, what do you guys want to do? Play some board games, or do you want me to tell you stories? Heh, I have some pretty embarrassing stories about your folks and-

It took Tambry a paralysingly long moment to notice that she has been talking to no one the whole time. She jumped to her feet and frantically looked around, trying to spot all the possible places for a seven- and ten-years old, quickly coming to realisation that there were way too many of them.

But there was only one where a noise was coming from.

The basement.

At once, Tambry dropped her can and rushed downstairs. Other parents might have worried that their children would accidentally break bottles of wine, or cut themselves on some of daddy's tools, but in Dipper and Wendy's case, the consequences of wandering into their basement unprotected were far, far more severe. Apart from the sharp tools and bottles of intoxicants, their basement was a home to their treasure vault.

In the past twenty or so years, the couple (with occasional help from Tambry and others) have travelled around States and the world, to all the places Ford has marked as "of interest". And over the two decades, they have collected many treasures, as well as many objects of interest they kept in their ultra-secure vault, locked not only with technology, but also spells and enchantments.

And when Tambry saw it it wide open, it did not surprise her in the slightest. After all, those were Wendy and Dipper's kids. Tambry's mind went berserk, trying to imagine what the kids could have touched, and as she got into the vault, she saw the Time Tape, a relict from Wendy and Dipper's short-lived part-time job as time agents.

The kids turned their heads around, and just as they began disappearing, Tambry launched herself forward, and as her finger brushed the wobbly, ephemeral surface of time rift, she was pulled forward, but instead of slamming her head against the opposite wall, she began falling, deeper than she ever had, flying though time vortex itself, filled with clocks and occasional telephone boxes, some of which contained two stoned guitarists.

Just as she thought she would feel sick, she felt pain in her arm when she collided with ground.

Tambry turned around, her mind still on Wendy and Dipper's kids. She recognised the place already: she was on the same hill where Woodstick concert was taking place, evidently still with the crowd of attendees. The whole place was filled with people, but as she looked around, Tambry immediately saw two familiar figures: one red-haired boy and one brown-haired girl, just on the verge of the forest, and she leapt towards them, shouting with her last breath.

- Tyrone! Emma! - she grabbed their shoulders Why did you-

But as she looked at the two children, her heart sank as she began noticing subtle differences. Emma didn't have green eyes. Tyrone's hair wasn't as long. And he wasn't as tall as he used to be a moment ago. Emma didn't have a beauty mark on her cheek.

The strange kids stared at her in confusion, but as she was about to ask what happened, she heard a murmur from the crowd behind her. And when she turned around, she nearly fainted. She suddenly realised that the crowd she passed by weren't random people.

As the dozens, if not hundreds of children turned their heads at the same time, in a near-synchronised motion, Tambry began noticing the same features over and over again: red hair, freckles, chestnut hair, birthmarks, brown and green eyes...

- Hi, Aunt Tambry! - spoke the children in blood-freezing, eerie, collective cheer. - What the fu-

And then, she was falling again, through the asphalt, the ground, and the vortex again, but this time, with all the red- and chestnut-haired children. She was still frantically looking for Tyrone and Emma, but she quickly realised it was a futile attempt, and by the time she thought that, she felt pain in her back again, as she landed, this time, in a spacious, gold-and-marble hall.

She expected she would hear hundreds of cries of the children, as they would landed and sprain her ankles or broke their arms, but so far, she was the only one who mis-landed, while every sing;e child or teenager around got onto their feet as if they just exited a school bus.

- Emma? Tyrone?

Tambry asked, being helped by two children, and to her relief, she finally found them, rushing towards her with tears in their eyes.

- Auntie Tambry, we-we are sorry... - Emma cried, closing her arms around her waist. - Yeah, we messed up... - the older boy spoke, without meeting her eyes and joined his sister. - That's... that's okay, kids, everything is fine...

Tambry knelt and brought them into a tight, warm hug, glad things finally started making sense.

And as she opened her eyes, she saw a giant, floating head.

- EMMA AND TYRONE PINES!

The Time Baby boomed, filling the air in the courtroom with its mighty voice.

- YOU HAVE BEEN PULLED FROM YOUR ORIGINAL TIME STREAM TO ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES AGAIN THE TIME ITSELF. - it continued, reading from a piece of paper - TOGETHER WITH YOU, WE BROUGHT ALICE PINES, DAN PINES, PETER PINES, STAN II PINES, STANFORD II PINES, STANISLAU PINES, TERRANCE PINES, DEBORAH PINES, ANNE PINES, DANNY PINES, TYRONE PINES, TYRONE PINES, PHOEBE PINES ...

For the next five minutes, the giant, floating baby continued listing - from the sound of it - names of every single son and daughter of Wendy and Dipper present in the hall. And then it spoke Tambry's name as well, as if she was a punchline to a very long joke.

- DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? - Uh, yeah, about that, I don't. - Tambry spoke, crossing her arms. - Who-who are you guys? I know Wendy and Dipper have been busy once they retired from adventuring, but not THAT much...

Immature snickering erupted around her.

- Auntie Tambry, it's real simple. - Emma tugged her shirt to bring her attention. - All of us here are kids of our parents from alternate universes. Our time-siblings if you will. - Yeah! - another girl, around age of fifteen agreed - Like, in our timeline, our mom and dad are bad-ass freedom fighters... - ...our parents were the same age when they met! - ...my dad moved to Oregon permanently! - ...my mom moved to California! - ...our parents first broke up but then got together again! - ...our parents attended the same sports school! - ...our parents run a coffee-shop!

Everyone in the hall, including the primordial, pan-dimensional Time Baby, collectively groaned.

- Okay, is there *someone*, who can explain to me how to untangle this mess? - Tambry cried in anger - Because I didn't sign up for this... - "Untangle" is, in fact, the correct word.

The crowd of one purple- and many chestnut- and red-heads turned towards the new voice, and just when Tambry thought that something would start making sense, she hiccuped when she understood who just greeted her.

- Waddles! - the crowd of Wendy and Dipper's offspring cheered in unison, and ran towards the chubby pink pig that flew into the courtroom in his leaving chair, Tambry more perplexed than a moment ago. - Indeed, I am Waddles, though not the one you know. I am a distant descendant of the one, brave pig you call Waddles, and who is known in our civilisation as the "Oink-Father". - I need a drink... - Tambry hid her face in hands. - But Tambry here is right - Waddles continued, as he circled the room, until he flew towards the screen - It would seem that one set of children travelled back in time, modified the past, altering their future. Then, another set of kids travelled from the now-changed future, their present, to the same past, hoping to fix it, but modifying it again. Repeat that around, er, seventy-two times, and you get the results!

Waddles spread his stubby trotters, pointing to the crowd of time-travelling children, and continued.

- Your many time travels have twisted the time continuum into a knot-like structure. What's worse, the many parallel universes you've created have ended some of them, and began new ones.

As he spoke, the singular line on the enormous screen began twisting and turning, until it resembled a ball of yarn that has been a target of a whole litter of hyperactive kittens.

- However, hope is not lost. You will find that in order to solve this multi-dimensional conundrum, we must simply use a trivially easy algebraic property of inverting the product.

At least a dozen of children around Tambry let out a collective gasp of understanding and began nodding.

- Er, come again? - Tambry spoke to the talking pig, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. - Simply speaking, you first put on your underwear, and then your pants. But if you want reverse the process, you must first take off your pants, and then the underwear.

The future Waddles looked down at his body.

- I assure you, this analogy is true, even though I have very little experience in that matter. - So... you mean that we need to find which groups of kids brought which one with them, put them in order, and then, like, escort them back, one by one, from the end? - Precisely!

Tambry cursed her best friend under her breath.

- I will never babysit any of you. - she grumbled - I might even never speak to Wendy again either. - she threw a paralysing glare at the crowd of children around her. - Heh, funny story - one of the teenage boys spoke - In our universe, you and our parents... er, kinda-sorta... Ah, never mind, you'll find out. Maybe. - Okay, someone give me some ultra-strong coffee from the future, or something, and let's do this.

And so, it began. Tambry lined up each group of kids together, and after much reorganising they began jumping through time. From universes that looked completely similar to hers, through those still aflame in Weirdmageddon, to those that were literally the mirror ones of hers, complete with traffic signs flipped horizontally, Tambry began the longest school trip of her life, escorting the cavalcade of children, trying her might to keep them holding their hands in line, which was much easier said than done when you are attacked by pterodactyls, or have to swim through the river of chocolate.

After hours, maybe days - she couldn't tell, and she was afraid to ask the children, who she suspected had an answer - she was left with just two kids. The ones she swore to protect, and whom she has failed miserably.

- Okay, guys. Can you tell me WHY IN HECK did you decide to do this?!

Emma and Tyrone looked at each other with shame, and showed her a photo on Tyrone's smarter-phone. A photo only they could have taken. Wendy Corduroy, age 15, kneeling in front of 13-year-old Dipper Pines, as she was telling him goodbye after their first summer spent together. Their future father was still perplexed by Wendy's act of taking his hat and swapping it for hers. She was saying something, but only they knew what they talked about, though Dipper's reddened cheeks gave Tambry a good indication what was Wendy's farewell message.

- We... we wanted to give our parents something for their anniversary. - And we thought we could go back to when they first met, you know, and take a picture. - Emma looked at her younger parents - Look how cute they are! Especially dad! - Yeah, he was heads over heels about your mom. - Tambry smiled. - Except we messed up... Turns out it really matters if you spook that goat and she runs left instead of right! - Hey, it's okay. - Tambry ruffled the boy's hair. - You put all the things back in place?

The two nodded eagerly.

- Okay, we can go back.

Tambry took the time tape, and was about to pull it one last time, but she decided to give it to the children.

- You do it. You know better than me how to use it.

For the last time Tambry felt the now-familiar feeling of her insides somersaulting, and, for the first time, she has managed to land on her feet. Seventy time travels taught her when to flip instead of flopping, something the children seemed to have grasped instantly.  

She opened eyes. They were back in the vault, in one piece, and just as she was about to say something, she heard the familiar sound of engine.

- Quick! get into positions!

She prompted the kids to run upstairs, while she closed the vault's door and followed them soon. By the time Wendy and Dipper opened the door, Emma and Tyrone have managed to bring the plates of snacks, open, empty, and scatter a dozen of cans of soda, and set up entire board and pieces of "Crippling Economy" on the table, to make sure their parents wouldn't suspect anything.  

- Hey, kids! - Wendy spoke, knowing she shouldn't worry too much as their house was still standing. - Did you miss us?

The two adults couldn't even take off their coats, before their children jumped to greet them with the most affectionate of hugs.

- Alright, alright! - Dipper smiled - We got you presents, don't worry... - No, mom, dad, we got you one!

The two nodded and presented to them the freshly printed photo, and watched as their parents' faces brightens in awe.

- Dipper... - Look, we were so young... - You were so small! - But you were as beautiful as today.

The kids let out a simultaneous "yuck" as their parents kissed, knowing to prolong the moment for maximum embarrassment.

- Wow, kids, thank you. - Dipper hugged them again - But where did you get it? - Auntie Tambry was going trough her phone and she found it. - So... we decided to frame it! - That's very thoughtful, you guys. And, hey, where's Tambry?

Just as Wendy asked, a loud snore reached their ears, and the four fund Tambry sleeping on the couch in the living room, the same one she expected to slack off on the entire night.

- You must have seriously tires her out. - Dipper spoke with hushed voice. - Eh, you know how it is - Emma shrugged.  

The Pines family tip-toed from the living room in order not to wake Tambry up. Just as Wendy was about to hang the new picture on the wall, she started thinking "Was Tambry even with us when Dipper left..?". But she was too tired to remember this, and she let out a prolonged yawn, ready to tuck their kids in their beds and join her husband in their bedroom soon.  

=================

Also, this fic contains names that coincide, completely coincidentally, with Wendip kid OCs by @fereality-indy, @nina-a-pines, and Supergroveraway.  

[tabernacleheart]

Fray Miguel de Herrera, Nun's Badge with the Immaculate Conception and Saints. (1753; oil on vellum; Fundación Cultural Daniel Liebsohn, Mexico City)

This is a combination of Immaculate Conception and Coronation image types, with the Trinity poised to place the crown on Mary, who as the Immaculate Conception stands on a crescent moon with her hands clasped in prayer. Because of the coronation, she does not have the usual circle of stars around her head. 

The Trinity is of the type that was becoming standard in the 18th century, with Father and Son pictured as an old and a young man respectively and the dove between them representing the Holy Spirit. 

In Mexico at the time badges of this type were popular among nuns and were often, as one can see, quite elaborate. 

In the margin of the image are (clockwise from the top): The Trinity, St. Joseph (lily stalk, Christ Child), St. Catherine of Alexandria (crown, wheel), St. Jerome (red cape, pen and book), unidentified saint (heart on chest, lily stalk), unidentified saint (Franciscan habit, dove in ear, pen and book – Gregory?), St. Stanislaus Kostka(untonsured youth with lily stalk, crucifix), St. Bridget of Sweden (crown of three bands, writing her Rule), St. Rosalia of Palermo (rose garland, skull, lily stalk, crucifix), St. Mary Magdalene (ointment jar), St. Rose of Lima (rose garland, lily stalk, Christ Child), St. Anthony of Padua (Franciscan habit, Christ Child, tonsure), St. Gertrude of Helfta (heart, crozier, Christ Child), St. Rita(Augustinian nun, wound in forehead, crucifix), St. Catherine of Siena? (Dominican habit, pen and book – but why the headpiece?), St. Ignatius Loyola (black cassock and cape, book with the Jesuit motto AD MAIOREM DEI GLORIAM), St. Francis of Assisi (Franciscan habit, stigmata, crucifix), St. Nicholas (bag of gold, bishop's mitre and processional cross), St. Augustine (heart, bishop's mitre and crozier), St. Barbara (tower, crown, lily stalk), St. Michael the Archangel (wings, armor, cross). 

[congressarchives]

Do-si-do for the U.S.A.

In the early 1970s, hundreds of Americans petitioned Congress to make the square dance our national folk dance.

One petitioner praised square dancing as “a clean, wholesome way to enjoy associating with other people in any part of our land.” Indeed, the petitions came from all over—from New York and California, from Kentucky and Idaho, from as far away as the territory of Guam.  

Many of the petitioners were affiliated with local, regional, or state square dance clubs or associations. The petition above came from Bill Burke, a member of the Polka Dots.

His fellow petitioners were from the Silver Buckles, Krazy Daizies, Ankle Knockers, See Saws, Curli Qs, Circle Squares, Surf Twirlers, Peat Dusters, Highland Hillbillies, Stanislaus Stumblers, Bootjack Stompers, and Squarenaders, not to mention the Squares & Flares, Boots & Bloomers, Skirts & Flirts, Swing Ding Dandies—and others too numerous to mention.

Since the early 1970s, 32 bills or resolutions elevating the square dance to national folk dance status have been proposed. Most of these attempts went nowhere. In 1982, a joint resolution designating the square dance the “national folk dance of the United States of America for 1982 and 1983” was passed. Come 1984, however, America was once again officially dance-less. Hearings on the matter were held that year, but no further action was taken on the bills then under consideration.

The most recent legislative attempt to honor the square dance was the 2003 Promenade Act. It garnered 29 cosponsors but died in committee without coming to a vote.      

Square Dance Petitions Received by the Subcommittee on Civil and Constitutional Rights, Committee on the Judiciary, 93rd Congress, Records of the U.S. House, Record Group 233

[remembertheplunge]

2/10/1990 Re: July 1989 entries. A margin note to the 7/13/1989 entry. The devastating Loma Prieta Earthquake would occur at 5:04pm 10/17/1989 in the San Fransisco Bay Area. It hugely impacted our lives in the Bay Area and in the  San Joaquin Valley.

I pass through the Livermore Valley on my way to San Francisco. July 1989 was a rather brutal month case load wise at the Stanislaus County Public Defender’s office where I worked at the time. I used to enjoy savoring a writing experience at Puccini’s Coffee House.

Following is the 2/10/2010 margin note:

“I can write this here in the protection of my safe corner in Puccini’s Coffee House in North Beach, San Fransisco, like the safe sun folds in the green cloth hills of Livermore Valley where cows and circling hawks find safe harbor to muse their own fate weaving.

In the folds, in the secrets of this one page lie truth. Amazing stories to come! Great explosive earthquake, restructuring of lives and works and fashions of being. The hot kiln of July produced crockery cracked but strong and lusty and lasting.”

End of margin note

[thehikingviking]

Dardanelle Cone from Sword Lake Trailhead

Dardanelle Cone is an impressive yet overlooked peak that lies just north of Highway 108 in Stanislaus National Forest. I’ve had my eyes on it as a secondary objective, but as of late it jumped to the top of my priority list. I have a family cabin in Sonora which I thought I’d have access to for life, but at the time of this writing, my aunt is currently trying to buy out the other family members. With future access unknown, I planned several trips across the summer utilizing the run down cabin as a basecamp. Asaka and Leif would come along for the ride, and enjoy the amenities of a bed, running water and a kitchen. In addition, I invited several other hikers to spend the weekend of June 11-13th at the cabin since there were plenty of extra beds. June 11th was a Friday, but I had a company day off in the name of mental health. While most wouldn’t arrive until later, Mike Toffey was able to join, and for that day we chose Dardanelle Cone.

Upon arriving at the cabin on Thursday afternoon, I went through the standard checklist of turning on the water and the electricity, but for some reason the oven would not turn on. The only way to fix it was to call PG&E. They told me that they would send someone out by 9pm at the latest. I asked what would happen if they didn’t arrive by that time, and she said that they would come the next day, which was fine by me. I was happy as long as they didn’t come in the middle of the night, and I was promised that would not be the case. On my last trip with Mike, I was awakened by PG&E, so this time I wanted to avoid the same outcome. 9pm came and went, so we went to bed and I drifted off into a deep sleep. Suddenly, I was roused in the middle of the night by flashing lights and banging on my door. I checked the time and it was 2am. I begrudgingly went outside and talked to the guy, then listened to him fumble around in the attic for the next hour. So much for a good night’s sleep.

The next morning I woke to find a letter on the door from PG&E. Apparently nothing was wrong, but he switched some old cables anyways. That must have been the issue because the oven now worked, which meant Asaka would be able to cook dinner for us. I felt pretty haggard though. How many times can PG&E wake one man up? Mike and I hopped in my Jeep and we drove to Sword Lake Trailhead at at the end of Forest Rte 6N06. I wasn’t sure what to expect of the road, but found it passable for 2WD vehicles. There were a lot of cars at the parking lot, but this was a popular trailhead for backpackers. The trail was easily discernable and we followed it through the forest. Just off the trail was a snow plant, which I first observed in the Yosemite area as a kid. This plant has no chlorophyll, so it derives its nutrients from fungi beneath the soil.

The forest would part in areas, exposing the striking peaks above. The first watchtower that came into view was Dardanelle West. We planned to climb this peak on our way back.

We walked at a quick pace as the trail cut through Wooly Mule’s Ears and Monument Plants. Dardanelle North poked over the trees ahead of us.

The trail led to McCormick Creek where we found a large group of campers. One older gentleman asked if if we knew how to reach Jenkins Canyon further to the east. We were not sure, so sadly couldn’t offer him any help. In the backdrop stood the unofficially named Dardanelle Butte.

-Dardanelle West

-Dardanelle Butte

We continued hiking up the trail until it faded and disappeared among knee high brush. It had taken us far enough, and we were thankful for it. Dardanelle North looked close, so we decided to climb that first. We approached via a brush free ridge, but the rock formations ahead looked impassable.

I got news the previous night of a major design error related to one of the GPS modules we are designing for the new iPhone. Apparently our BAW (Bulk Acoustic Wave) resonators were using capacitors intended for a different filter process, and this severely impacted the quality factor of our GPS filter, which led to degradation of 0.5dB on noise figure. We were the leading vendor up to this point, but this error was a major setback. With the first form factor proto build approaching, we needed to have an internal call to discuss our strategy with the whole business unit and the Sr. VP of the entire division. This was scheduled for 9am on our day off (6pm in Munich where are designers are located), and since I had service, I felt obligated to dial in and join the call. So much for mental health.

Mike went ahead to scout the route. It didn’t look like we could get through the rocky bluff ahead. I gave it less than a 50% chance, but Mike was confident. It wasn’t long before I saw his head pop over the edge. Once my call was over, I followed his route through a gap in the volcanic rocks, finding a class 2 way through.

I then cut back and walked to Point 8948 on the topo. To the south was Dardanelle Butte.

To the southwest was Dardanelle West.

To the northwest was Mokelumne Peak.

To the northeast was Dardanelle North.

To the southeast was Dardanelle Cone. It didn’t look trivial from our vantage point. Mike wasn’t confident that we would be able to climb it by traversing the ridge. There were steep patches of snow and loose cliffs surrounding the peak, but I gave us a greater than 50% chance. We were playing off of each other's confidence.

From the point we continued along the ridge towards the higher Dardanelle North. 

Mike and I split up as we approached the base of some volcanic pinnacles. Mike took a challenging route along the top of the rocky ridge while I took a more conservative route along the base. My route was a class 2 sidehill until I reached a chute on the west side of the summit pinnacle. From the top of the chute, I did a couple short class 3 moves until I was able to reach the summit. To the west were Point 8948, Dardanelle West and Spicer Meadow Reservoir.

To the north were Bull Run Peak and Peep Sight Peak.

To the southeast was Dardanelle Cone.

After a long time of not seeing him, Mike finally showed himself on a lower pinnacle. Apparently his route was much more complicated than mine.

I waited for Mike to complete his traverse and then we signed the register. Bob Burd had visited the peak only three days before us.

We dropped off the southeastern side of the peak and began our ridgeline traverse.

It was wide open country and we made quick time down to the saddle. This must have been the way to reach Jenkins Canyon, and I’m not sure how the man from earlier couldn’t find his way over the saddle. It looks class 2 for the most part and there was even a cairn constructed here. There were some footprints running the ridge here and I’m pretty sure they were Bob’s from a few days earlier.

Mike and I had several strategies to climb the cone. It looked like the safest bet was to attack from the south, however the shortest approach was from the north. We decided to attack head on, and if we ran into anything impassable, we could circle around to the back side.

I was hoping to follow Bob’s footprints all the way to the top, but those disappeared. Simply the fact that I knew someone else had been out here recently trying something similar gave me confidence. The higher we climbed, the easier the remaining route looked. We entered some knee high brush, but beyond a short stretch of it there looked to be some fun scrambling.

There was a snowfield blocking our route, but the moat above it allowed for safe passage.

From there we had an easy class 3 wall to surmount. Both Mike and I took more sporty routes to spice things up.

At the top of the wall, all that remained was class 2. In a way I was a little disappointed since it looked much more challenging (and fun) from below, but at the same time I was relieved to know I would make the top.

After a steep final section, we made it to the summit. To the southwest was Dardanelle Butte. 

To the northwest were Dardanelle West, Spicer Meadow Reservoir and Dardanelle North.

To the north were Round Top, Bull Run Peak, The Sinister and Peep Sight Peak.

To the northeast were Silver Peak, Highland Peak and Airola Peak.

To the southeast were Stanislaus Peak, Sonora Peak and Night Cap Peak.

To the south were Black Hawk Mountain, Granite Dome, Three Chimneys and Eagle Peak.

-Dardanelle Butte

-Dardanelle West

-Dardanelle North

We were doing well on time and energy. We had covered 7 miles up to this point, and we felt up for one more peak. We considered Dardanelle Butte and Dardanelle West. After some deliberation, we decided to go for Dardanelle West because we had beta for the route and the name was more official (It’s named on Google Maps). From all our vantage points throughout the day, Dardanelle Butte looked almost unclimbable, so we decided to maybe come back another day when we were a little more prepared. We started off SSW following the ridge. Towards the end of the plateau, we came across a man made rock formation. Our best guess was that this was some sort of Native American shrine.

We were unsure if we could even drop off this side. We looked off the edge and started down hoping for the best.

We snaked through several volcanic pinnacles, still concerned we would cliff out, but after enough progress, we could see an entire class 2 route down to the saddle. We found what looked like a bear print in the dirt below.

From the saddle we dropped down to McCormick Creek on our way back to the trail. Dardanelle West loomed across the canyon.

We started off on a use trail, but it disappeared quickly. Maybe this was only a bear highway. It was alright though because the cross country travel was easy.

McCormick Creek was a relief to find because it meant the end of steep downhill hiking.

We followed the creek until we picked up the trail downstream.

When appropriate, we left the trail and began cross country towards Dardanelle West. I looked down and found my first ground plum, which is edible and was used by Native Americans as food and horse medicine. 

We encountered a little bushwhacking at first, but then emerged on an open ramp that connected us with the GPS track we had pre-loaded in our phone.

The ramp led to a drainage which we followed uphill.

Bushwhacking got pretty bad at one point, so we angled to some rocks and climbed straight up. This was the most challenging climbing all day.

Once atop the rocks, the brush thinned out and the cross country travel became easy. The face of Dardanelle West looked similar to the geology of Devils Postpile and the nearby Columns of the Giants.

I was getting pretty tired by this point. We wondered if we would have more climbing ahead of us, but instead we found an easy class 2 route all the way to the top of the ridge. The rock formation to our west looked very impressive, but thankfully was not the peak since it looked unclimbable.

The summit was another big chunk of volcanic conglomerate to our east.

There were two summit challengers. We climbed the southern one first.

To the northeast was Bull Run Rock.

Across the valley to the east was Dardanelle Cone.

To the south was the Stanislaus River Canyon.

To the southwest was Donnell Lake.

To the west was the alternate summit. We walked over there next.

There was some type of survey marker here. We had a full view of Spicer Meadow Reservoir.

I felt satisfied. I’m sure Mike wanted to get Dardanelle Butte as well, but we had a big hike the following day and I knew my limits. It was still early season and I was not yet in shape. We dropped back down to the trail, this time avoiding the brush to the best of our abilities. Once on the trail, we cruised out of there.

The three peaks totaled 14 miles. We drove back to the cabin where Leif and Asaka were waiting. Daryn, Colin and Dully would show up later that night. I texted Bob later on about being just a few days behind him. He asked if I did Dardanelle Butte, which I did not. He then gave me a hard time telling me that it was the best one. I guess now we have to go back.

[boyswanna-be-her]

it's weird because i used to have this life where i didn't mind telling everyone everything about what was happening with me. but as life got more complicated and i got older, there started to be pieces of me that weren't for public consumption--either because they were too precious or too awful. i think as i decided to put those parts of my life away for myself, i forgot that there's this vast middle ground that i used to talk about here but no longer touch on.

so here's my life update, i guess, with big canyons of details redacted so that i can give you some sort of narrative that might make sense.

i got fired from my job editing newspapers in march of 2016. i published my first gay romance novel a month later. and then another one the next month. and another one the month after that.

in the fall, i met some people who also write gay romance, and i started to actually make friends within my own community. i worked on a bunch of projects--not just my romance novels--and developed a lof of new skills.

in the winter, i actually got to go meet a bunch of those writer people. i took a trip to north carolina/virginia, connected with new friends and someone who i largely consider a new best friend in a circle of best and only friends. i got some more tattoos. i drove places that i'd never been to before and saw things i hadn't seen.

i've reconnected with my parents in unexpected ways. we haven't gotten along since i was 15, and now i find them respecting my boundaries, respecting who i am, respecting what i do with my life. it's incredible not to have to hide things from them. i love having parents again.

jonathan got incredibly sick last year (i’m not going into it in more depth than that here so save yourself the time of asking), and that continues to plague us somewhat. it's just a fact of life. he finally got a concrete diagnosis this month that essentially acknowledges that this is something that will never go away. it sucks and things were very, very rocky before that. but the bad times have only cemented my understanding that there's no one on earth who understands and loves me like jonathan does. so i'm here for it, and i'm here to be a caretaker when i need to be.

the caretaker role has been very difficult for me to adjust to. i haven’t blogged about it or actually talked about it to... anyone. it’s really scary at 32 to acknowledge like... yes, i’m going to be in charge of someone’s care for the rest of my life. i've started going to therapy specifically to address this, and to address my trauma surrounding him getting SO sick last year. it's not helping yet and it's very, very tough.

we traveled in march to go to california to see my dear darlings kyle and rhonda get married. i can say without a doubt that this ended up being THE best trip of my entire life. we went to reno, tahoe, sacramento, yosemite, and monterey and i fell in love with that part of the country even more than i ever had before. my wanderlust is absolutely turgid. i decided to write a book set in the stanislaus forest.

the book business have been... strange this year. there's a project i won't talk about here. but i published a book in february that was my most successful so far. it launched me into designing covers, and also showed me how to connect with new audiences. it got a writeup on a usa today romance blog, which was kind of thrilling. most people read it as a disability story and liked it, some of them thought it was furry sizekink porn, and neither of those reads is even vaguely incorrect.

i also had an audiobook professionally produced. i'm too scared to listen to it all the way through. reviewers LOVE the production, but find the writing a little lacking. i'm kind of with them there.

i'm working on a book right now that feels really important. i keep asking jonathan to have faith in me, to have patience, because the book is taking forever. it's about 100,000 words right now and it's still got a lot more to go. i don't know what to say other than i'm in it deep with this one and it... yeah, feels important, like i said. it's something that was going to drive me crazy until i wrote it.

i have a few more of those on the horizon--books that are really talking to me. there are other projects--desining covers for other writers, more audiobooks, books that are marketable but maybe not as close to my heart.

in april, i went to this incredible convention in atlanta and got to meet the remaining new writers who i consider my best friends who i hadn't actually met in person yet. the experience was overwhelming. it's been a long time since i've been in a room with people who unequivocally understand and respect me, and it was a good feeling to have. we'll all see each other in october, along with one of my oldest friends who has joined my newest friendgroup and career path.

when it comes to my writer friends, i’m really up their butts and i don’t know what to do about it. oh well. i’m very invested in these people and it frightens me. it’s been a long time since i had a group of people i felt this close to. i keep waiting to fuck it up, like it happens with everyone whose butt i decide to crawl into.

jonathan and i are going to go to denver in october for a romance conference and then some vacation exploring. neither of us have been to CO, so we're losing it about how excited we are. we both want to travel more, but have agreed that we should probably only plan two big trips each year together. it's just so hard to travel at the same time because of the dog. if anyone wants food and a free place to say in florida in exchange for dogsitting for two weeks in october, hmu.

we're thinking the next two trips will be big bend and the pacific northwest so... yknow, hook it up, pnw crew.

in august/september, i'm hopefully headed to minnesota for the first time to join up with my writer people at what sounds like a disgustingly idyllic location on a lake. i'm so used to not looking forward to things that i'm trying not to look forward to it. i was supposed to visit two friends in DC in april and it fell through because of a health issue with jonathan and i was a little more devastated about it than i understood at first. so i get scared to plan stuff.

jonathan has his own business since last summer. we both filed taxes as business owners last year, so that felt pretty baller. jonathan does some projects like contracting/carpenter stuff, but mostly he's been able to focus on designing furniture. he's doing these incredible chairs right now that just melt my face off. he takes basic mid-century modern designs and then adds and subtracts until it's the same chair with a different feel. he feels self-conscious saying that it's his own design, but that'd be like saying that fanfiction isn't writing. it's definitely fucking writing, and his designs are definitely his.

overall, we've been incredibly lucky that we get to work for ourselves. i'm constantly thankful for that. i can't even explain how much working for myself has changed the fabric of my life. it is simply so much healthier and better, even with the struggles it presents.

my health, other than getting fucking pneumonia last month, has been really good. it's incredible how much changes when you don't hate every minute of your job every day. don't get me wrong--i'm still a depressed, anxious mess. but at least i have the energy now to cope with that sometimes. i don’t have to chain smoke and drink my way through the days because i DREAD waking up every morning. i think soon i’ll actually have recovered enough from all that bullshit that i won’t have a panic attack every time someone raises their voice and will be able to concentrate on reading text for pleasure rather than just skimming or editing.

otto the cat is still missed fondly. i named the main character in my california book after him. hector the dog is unimpressed with his internet success story (160k+ notes on tumblr). he started walking with a limp, so jonathan built him a ramp. poor old buddy. he's doing well with the ramp though! and the limp is getting better.

anyway, i think that's all i can think of for a life update. consider yourself caught up. :)

[littalks-blog]

On February 2, 1882, James Joyce was born in Dublin, Ireland. James was the eldest of ten surviving children, two had died of typhoid. In 1887, James’ father had been appointed as a rate collector by Dublin Corporation and therefore moved his family to Bray, 12 miles outside Dublin. In 1891, James wrote a poem about the death of Charles Stewart Parnell. Due to all of the political disrupt surrounding Parnell, the Home Rule left a lasting impression on James. The poem was sent to a part of the Vatican Library. In 1893, John Joyce, James’ father, was dismissed from work with a pension. This started the family’s slide into poverty, aided by John’s drinking and mismanagement of finances. James had started his education at Clongowes Wood College, a boarding school, but had to leave in 1892 since his father could no longer pay for the fees. He then studied at home and for a short period at Christian Brothers O’Connell School. In 1895, at age 13, James was selected to join Sodality of Our Lady.

In 1898, James enrolled at the University College Dublin where he studied English, French, and Italian. He was very active in theatrical and literary circles during this time. In 1900, his review of Henrik Ibsen’s “When We Dead Awaken” was published in The Fortnightly Review. This was his first publication. James wrote a multitude of other articles as well as two plays during this period. In November 1901, James was introduced to the Irish public by Arthur Griffith through his newspaper, United Irishman. Joyce had written an article about the Irish Literary Theatre that his college newspaper refused to publish. Therefore, James printed and distributed it locally. This caused Griffith to write a piece about the censorship of Joyce.

After his graduation in 1902, James left to go to Paris to study medicine. This was soon abandoned. However, James stayed in Paris for a while until his father sent a telegram expressing that his mother had been diagnosed with cancer. His mother passed into a coma and died on August 13. James and his brother, Stanislaus, refused to kneel and pray at her bedside. After his mother's death, James began drinking heavily and conditions at home became appalling. James barely got a living wage from reviewing books, teaching, and singing.

In 1904 James tried to published “A Portrait of the Artist” as an essay-story dealing with aesthetics. However, it was rejected and he later revised it into a novel he called Stephen Hero. James did not like the revision and abandoned it. Later on, though, he completely rewrote the piece as “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.” Also in 1904, James met Nora Barnacle, a young woman from Galway. At the time she was working as a chambermaid. In June they had their first outing together where they walked to Ringsend where Nora masturbated him. This event was commemorated in the date of the action of Ulysses. James remained in Dublin where he was drinking heavily. After a drinking binge, James got into a fight and was picked up by an acquaintance of his father, Alfred Hunter. Alfred took James to his home where he stayed for a few days until he got into an altercation with another student he was living with. James walked eight miles back to Dublin where he stayed with some relatives for the night. The next day he sent a friend to retrieve his belongings, and afterwards, James and Nora left to live in self-imposed exile, beginning in Zurich, Switzerland. It was here that James taught English at the Berlitz Language School. Later, the director of the school sent James to Trieste where he found there was no teaching position for him. However, he did find a position in Pola where he taught English to Austro-Hungarian naval officers until March 1905. In March 1905 the Austrians began to expel all ‘aliens.’ Joyce moved back to Trieste and began teaching there. He stayed here for ten years.

In late 1905, Nora gave birth to their first child, George. James persuaded his brother to join him in Trieste. James sought to secure his family's meager income along with his brother's earnings. During the time of his brother living in Trieste, there are reports that James and Stanislaus had a strained relationship because of James’ drinking habits and frivolity with money. In 1906, James moved to Rome where he was employed at a bank clerk. However, he disliked Rome, so he moved back to Trieste in 1907. His daughter, Lucia, was born later that year.

In 1909, James took George and they went to visit his father as well as to work on getting his book, “Dubliners”, published. He also visited Nora’s family in Galway. During his preparations to return to Trieste, he decided to take his sister, Eva, back with him to help Nora run their home. James spent a month in Trieste before returning to Dublin as a representative of cinema owners and businessmen. He launched Ireland’s first cinema, Volta Cinematograph, which sadly fell apart when James left. In 1910, James returned to Trieste with his sister Eileen. James returned once more to Dublin for a brief period in 1912 during his fight with the Dublin publisher, George Roberts, over the publication of “Dubliners.” It was on the return home that he wrote, “Gas from a Burner,” an invective poem against George Roberts. After this, he never returned to Dublin.

While living in Trieste James suffered from many eye problems that required over a dozen surgical operations. It was during this time that he came up with a number of money-making schemes, including an attempt to become a cinema magnate in Dublin. He also toyed with the idea of importing Irish tweed to Trieste. In 1915, many of his students were conscripted to fight in World War One, so James moved to Zurich. It was during this time that James took an active interest in socialism. He attended many socialist meetings back in Dublin, and described his politics as “those of a socialist artist.” However, in 1918, he declared himself “against every state” and found truth in the individualist philosophies of Oscar Wilde and Benjamin Tucker.

James set himself up to finish “Ulysses” in Paris, excited to know he was gaining fame as an avant-garde writer. He received a grant from Harriet Shaw Weaver which aided him in being able to write full-time once more It was also during this time when his vision was getting worse and he often wore an eyepatch. He continued to go through surgeries all throughout the 1930s. Also, he sought after treatments for his daughter, Lucia, who suffered from schizophrenia. Lucia was analyzed by Carl Jung, who stated that her father also was schizophrenic, however, James was “diving and Lucia was sinking.” In Paris, Maria and Eugene Jolas nursed James during his writing of “Finnegans Wake.” If not for their help, there is a high possibility that James never would have finished his books. In 1940, James returned to Zurich to flee the Nazi occupation of France. He used his contacts to help around sixteen Jews escape Nazi persecution.

On January 11, 1941, James went under surgery in Zurich for a perforated duodenal ulcer. He fell into a coma and woke up on January 13, 1941, when he asked a nurse to call his wife and son before he lost consciousness again. He died fifteen minutes later, a month away from his 59th birthday.

[pattersonvoice-blog]

Patterson Love-In

Last night a group of individuals, including myself, held what we called a “Love-In” in the central circle in our town of Patterson.  The goal was to do a few things - first of all to reconnect with people and inform unity in today’s political climate based around divisiveness.   Secondly, it was the first event that our fledgling group was able to hold in order to let the city and her people know that we are here.

We invited people from all over the Westside and Stanislaus County area and were glad to see a number of people show up outside of our normal meeting group.  In total we captured more than double the amount of people that we were expecting, families, kids, and even pets.  

The prep work was awesome for the event.  We had music curated to put us in the spirit, a sign-making party to promote love and togetherness, candies and custom, hand-made Valentines to give out to people to celebrate the holiday of love, and even a mini “Hippy-themed” costume contest with a $50 SaveMart gift card to the winner.  

Overall we consider the event a huge success.  Not only did we get a lot of attention, but we even had a number of local leaders stop by and join us in promoting love.  We had the Patterson School Board represented by a couple of our members, but we also had other local business leaders, Mayor Deborah Novelli, Councilman Al Parham, reporters from the local papers, and Planning Commission Chairman Ron West to round out a diverse group of Patterson leadership.

So who are and what was this all about?  We are a new group of Patterson citizens that all share certain political ideas and have learned in the last few months that we had become complacent with our democracy and therefore it has been bought and sold to to the highest bidder.  While we may not all agree on all political ideas, we all believe that we must be engaged in the political process from the local level up to the federal and must take back our democracy in the name of reason, not big money politics.  

If you are interesting in joining into our meetings or email list, please contact us here or at our email address: pattersonprogressives@gmail.com