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monkey-network · 4 years ago

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Why Shrek IS The Best

Tastes can change, you know? And it’s less about “What’s good about this now compared to before”, more of “Why would you like this now as opposed to before”? Unless allergic, you didn’t get why dark cola or hot chips tasted bad to you as a child, but when you grow up you can come to understand and appreciate it. Shouldn’t pressure yourself, that makes things worse, but things can certainly align in helping this newfound respect you get for something you’d believe you would never want again. That really is where I stand with Dreamworks’ Shrek. As a kid, while Toy Story left me traumatized for a while, Shrek left me side-eyeing with how crass and ugly it looked and I never wanted to think of it. But, as I grew up to respect animation a lot more, 2018 was where I looked back at Shrek and soon come to understand how wrong I was and how much greatness it has that I now consider it an all time great. And with it getting inducted into the Library of Congress, I thought it was finally time to present what I see in this film. Let’s do this right with...

The SOMEBODY

Now this frame has been meme’d to death. If there’s anything iconic about this film, ‘bout the franchise as a whole, it’s the exact moment when our main character charges out of his outhouse as Smash Mouth’s ‘All Star’ gets going. But this honestly just says a lot about Dreamworks’ direction from its previous films where compared to Disney that’ll take their time making the setup before getting into the hype point for its lead, Shrek gets going in one minute if we don’t count the logo intro. Not even The Emperor’s New Groove, which was going for the same tone before Shrek even released, took more of it’s time with the fairy tale aspect of it in its intro. Shrek literally wipes his ass with the fairy tale aspect before giving us the SOMEBODY, all around a minute. This frame really shows that this is sticking to the Disney formula in some way because it’s wasting no time getting into it. It represents the more brisk pace Shrek has with pulling you into what it’s gonna be about. This overall frame works in its thematic and parody aspect and I’ve yet to see anything top this exact moment, not even the greatest films I’ll ever remember.

But enough about the fact that I made a whole paragraph about this one frame of the movie. Let’s dive into what I say is a piece of the heart for this film.

The Earnestness

Speaking of Disney, you probably notice that their films have some cushioning in their presentation, like they generally don’t show things with a straightforward lens; there’s some theatrics in the way their best movies present themselves. That’s not a problem, mind you, but that helped me understand how Shrek does things very differently whether you consider it parody or not. While it throws mockery at the played out conventions associated with fairy tales, especially its most subtle jab at copyright, it doesn’t full on say fairy tales are annoying and bad. Hell, the film IS a fairy tale adapted from a fairy tale about a fookin’ OGRE that can eat lightning and kills with farts. But, it’s an accurate and earnest way to view a fairy tale from a somewhat realistic lens. Let’s take Shrek’s journey for instance.

Typically, the main character would want to experience something more; explore new horizons, prove themselves, find their calling. Shrek off the bat doesn’t need or desire any of that. He’s content with his life, beside the angry mob he casually scares off, and throughout the film he’s not interested in anything else outside getting the squatters out his swamp. He happily makes a deal with the villain of the film to exile those innocent refugees off his land so he could then build a wall to keep everybody out. Bringing up Emperor’s New Groove again, Shrek and Kuzco are the few characters I know that are actively antagonistic even when they’re forced into their situation from outside forces. However unlike Kuzco that gets to be emperor again but learns humility, Shrek is in the same spot as before but learns that there are people out here that can love him for who he is. I can’t say there’s anything grand about that, but it doesn’t need to be unlike the many Disney or any film that tries to shower you with the grandest themes. The relationships Shrek has with Donkey and Fiona are the most grounded I’ve ever seen because they’re not only natural, they’re hardly dolled up with the bells and whistles made to either drum up the biggest laughs or tug the heart strings viciously. When I think about it, I honestly could see myself in Shrek. He isn’t made to be a legend, he isn’t some secret genius or lost prince, he’s just an every-man ogre that wants to live peacefully or meet SOMEBODY that doesn’t treat as someone to be feared or disgusted at. Everything Shrek says is something anybody could or would say if they were his shoes because he, and the film in general, is the most grounded without making it all distractedly meta or genre-savvy. This is generally helped by...

The Dounkaey

Everyone’s talked about how Donkey is the best confidant for Shrek and Fiona. How he’s most true to himself to where he’s the most openly musical character in the film, and how he’s the most balanced here with his comedic vs serious moments. But I gotta say it too: Donkey is one of the greatest sidekicks ever. He’s a motormouth, but is never annoying to where you wish he left the film. The couple times he is purposefully annoying, not for a joke, is when he knows Shrek isn’t being truthful. He truly gets to know Shrek on this journey, and is the character Shrek gets to capacity to actually loosen up to, so it’s fitting that he’d be the one to push Shrek when the ogre’s sounding more vague than usual. Even when he’s harshly insulted, Donkey doesn’t take it as bad as when Shrek kept trying to shut him out again in the 3rd act after the Hallejulah sequence which is the scene in every Shrek movie where’s there a super sad song because Shrek is alone and yadda ya. I’ll get to it in a bit, but he is as much responsible in providing Fiona that seed of doubt that Shrek wouldn’t love her as the ogre she is. Donkey is the greatest friend because he wants to be there for those who are okay with him being around, and while you could give and take sidekick animals in your notable films with them in it, this film really wouldn’t have happened without him. Speaking of Fiona, I won’t retread what’s been said before like with Donkey but I did want to bring up something I haven’t seen many talk about,,,

The Love for An Ogre

I’ve seen many say the scene where Shrek overhears Fiona talk about “Who could love an ugly beast?” and misinterprets that as her talking about him as a cliched or contrived downside to the film, but I feel that a defense can be made. It personally makes sense that Shrek would misinterpret that and take it personally because 1) Who else would Fiona be talking about? 2) How would he know she was talking with Donkey? 3) Why would he just barge in on her? 4) Has no one considered that this moment is parallel to when Fiona overhears Shrek’s conversation with Donkey the night before?

Fiona is very much the antithesis to Shrek’s character where she can very much be open about what she wants but is scared at the idea of anyone figuring out who she really is. She’ll gladly be gross, kick ass, eat the young of a bird she let explode, but won’t let anyone see her true face. That’s why her curse makes sense, and why Shrek would take a fondness to her despite her initial disdain of him rescuing her. Fiona’s a character where the surface level beauty is her weakness as opposed to Shrek where it’s internal. Which is why when she overhears Shrek open up to Donkey about his societal isolation, she’s soon more comfortable around him. And it’s why when she opens up to Donkey about her looks, Shrek would unfortunately take it personal enough. I ask again, why would Shrek barge in on a conversation he wasn’t aware of or who she was talking about to not take it about anything else but him when what he heard such a cut so deep, especially from a character that bears his similar issues? It also helps that Donkey was in on it, as Shrek feels reasonably betrayed by the only other person he’s come to appreciate in his life. Contrived as it seems, it’s thematically important and appropriate to the conflict of Shrek’s character and the film overall. Don’t know how this could be conveyed any other way because it adds up at least.

I just wanna know how Shrek got to Faarquard’s and back by sunrise like did he run cuz that looked like a huge distance to travel on foot but anyways...

I’m sure things could’ve worked out if Shrek knew, either by barging in that night or through Donkey, but I think it’s fitting that the climax takes place at the wedding. After Shrek and Donkey understand their friendship, after Donkey reciprocates the Dragon’s love (more ways than one), and when Shrek grasps the mistake he made to charge over to Fuccquad’s chapel, we get to...

The End

After everything, we get to the moment where Shrek and Fiona get to share their first kiss, Fiona permanently transforms into an ogre, and we get this exchange. One of my favorite exchanges in the whole film:

Shrek: “Are you all right?” Fiona: “Well yes. But I don’t understand... I’m supposed to be beautiful.”

Shrek: “But you ARE beautiful”

We don’t need any other vows to understand their relationship was built up to this. This moment where Shrek can reaffirm Fiona’s feelings of being able to be herself in every way, because she allowed him to be himself in every way before. That’s that mutual love, baby, that just gets me every time and makes this film one of the best romance stories I know as well, even when it isn’t solely about the romance. This is Shrek’s story, and there’s nothing more touching than seeing this outcast not only get another to view him as a friend, not only someone to love, but people, if only a couple, to actually wanted to get to know him. I know Shrek 2 expands on this more, and it’s considered a golden sequel, but I will always cherish the first movie for how much it tells us off the bat while appearing as a “Take That” to Disney films. This is the genesis of Shrek feeling more accepted for himself and society and it just bears so much good commentary while being a good adventure nonetheless. Like you could say this film indeed has... dimensions? “You were trying to meme about la-”

The Conclusion

Mentioning it, I always had this thought with the conversation Shrek and Donkey had of why Shrek didn’t just “be an ogre” and pillage Fuccnut’s fortress. It’s possible Shrek could’ve taken out Faarquid himself, but that would mean being the beast he knows people have shunned him for, grabbed the torches and pitchfolks for, made him feel worse for. Shrek enjoys being an ogre, but he doesn’t like how society makes him feel lesser as an ogre. That really is what the four films have been about for him and what I’ve come to appreciate about these films personally. It can be easy to love yourself even when there are others out here that stand against you, but it’s hard to consider that anyone else could love you for who you are in spite of how you try to present yourself. But if there’s anything Shrek showed me, it’s that it’s possible. There can/will be people out here who appreciate the real you, will be there as much as you want to for them, and can help you realize more about yourself as opposed to suffering to silence eternally. Generally ideal, I know, but this film in the least offered me that thought in the most balanced way possible. It’s incredible how much of a tightrope this film has in its parody and sincerity and that makes its induction in the National Film Registry and being the first ever Best Animated Award winner pretty justified all things considered.

I know this film, the character, has been a meme over the years. As Schaffrillas mentions in his video, the direction Dreamworks made because of Shrek’s success kinda turned it into a heel people clowned on because, in theory, it was nothing but a joke with the onions and the swamp and IT’S NEVER OGRE. Then again, like I said in the beginning, tastes change. I’d say with Schaff’s masterful analyses on the film series and 3GI’s Shrek Retold and Shrekfest, the perception of the film sure enough shifted like the perception of Megamind. It’s one thing for a movie to blow people away or leave them thinking it’s horrible beyond belief, it’s another to take the time to then look back and see how those feelings have changed. For Shrek, it’s a film that was able to trudge out of the meme era to be a film many consider a strong, rewatchable, and unique. Like the beauty of Spongebob, Shrek is a considered a classic because as in the times as it appeared when it released, this film actually stood on its own with the most enjoyable and meaningful timelessness, exploring the desired love for the self, that deserves to be recognized. What else can I say, people?

It’s The Best

#Shrek #dreamworks #dreamworks animation #animation #movies #cartoons #reviews #analysis #long post #Good Stuff

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surfersofbole · 4 years ago

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Going to Fall: What will you do?

This is the fifth installment in my “Going to Fall” series, which is based on Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall.”

What will you do?

Here, your father must now mention if God has seemed unjust, unkind, then, have you paid him no attention? Our sins are many, of great kinds; punishment ‘s held with retention

not unlike the water vapor within the clouds above the world. All the clouds won’t harm a scraper, but rain upon a cardboard home turns the walls into soaked paper.

I can sense your apprehension, and I can sense your broken pride. Do you have some great dissension? Well, now, just take your small asides to relieve any contention.

Some of us find things enlightening when we must live in heavy dark. Lightning rods control the frightening and brightening flash of the short night. Umbrellas keep th’ tensions tightening.

You would think there’d be prevention - that God himself would take the lead. God wants no Earthly dimension and so he goes ahead, concedes rain must fall without suspension.

What will you do, my blue-eyed son? Somethings are hard to answer. Some… What will you do, darling young one? Think you that I should know this thing? Morning comes now with the bright sun.

Going back out before the rain starts falling

I wake up scared as hell that things are going wrong. Why? I was not quite sure of what was going on. My mind was in a cell. I lie down quietly. The motionless allure of a ceiling, empty...

A day begins anew. Will I ever arise? A thunder I have heard; the skies will be disguised. The rainclouds now accrue. I’m scared to leave this place; though, maybe I’m absurd, and I should go/make haste.

I’ll walk the beaten path; I know it will be short. All the small excursions other souls couldn’t afford... I'll face the wanton wrath because the world will fear I am leading an incursion with my mouth that all’ll hear.

The depths of the deepest, black forest

Electrified air climbs to clustered cotton fluff; screams turn to grumbles.

Some schwarzwald sunshine prawns prowl blister-black water - ice of a night sky.

Sharp whistles whittle brittle branch and bark, bitter for the burning blight.

Hollow trees topple. Then, forests from dying flames born of detritus.

The people are many, their hands are all empty

Xerotic mouths agape, facade of night entreats a dreamer thirsting not the light, "neglect a cleanly state and state that you ordain the rain to fall as it is due."

Disguising no intentions with delight, obsessed with obfuscating appetite, come cumulating nimbus clouds above haranguing with each lightning strike thereof.

In time, hard rains again will lift the plight and everyone will be an acolyte lest all the clouds they see move out of sight.

The pellets of poison flooding their waters

(The vending machine hums softly. A whirring and some clinking kick off a habit, and I press a button. A quarter? I try again. In the mechanism, it moves. Thunk. Mother's approval.)

Someone's swimming in the pool.

Crystalline medium with waving surface dances the light upon the ceiling.

Diving at the deep, he sinks into the bottom for the longest moment until he is diluted by the dark.

I sit beside the edge, staring.

No manacles bind us to the station we submit.

Someone's swimming in the pool, but I've a job to do. "Refill the canister with two chlorine tablets. Lock up and leave."

The home in the valley meets the damp, dirty prison

I walk to where the sidewalk ends en masse, past the concrete's blend with grass and the footstep-muddled pastures.

I found the last spot God had cried: an oasis that has dried in the desert of this life.

The rain is not the coldest where the trees have met the forest and the mountain meets the valley.

The executioner’s face, always well hidden

At mass, the priest, in his white, polyester robes, stood among pink roses.

"I say, precious Lord, look upon us and see not injustice; instead, find hope."

Among the heightened exaltations of the chorus, water came down upon us.

Back when crimes against the Lord and his people were punishable, men like Christ and Beckett, with their deaths, made leaders grovel.

King, bearing a new weight, shouldered a poor people's campaign; in his memory, we hid this struggle. In this new poor people's campaign, shall hidden faces make another man infamous?

"Do this in memory of me."

The word of the Lord makes requisite that we do things in memory of others that perhaps, through us, they could live on. Such a cause as theirs is worth perpetuating; such a love as theirs is the great communion.

"Mass has ended. You may go in peace"

Hunger is ugly, souls are forgotten

Oysters - pried apart with pearls squeezed from their soft flesh - are discarded shells that cleansed murky waterways. Layered nacre anchors banks.

Black is the color, none is the number

For the briefest second, worlds are colorful and palm fronds, like percussion sections, fill the wind with scratching sound. As raindrops themselves drive through darkness into broken asphalt, thunder-crash! The crack in night, it vanished while a youth in leather shoes and wetting socks went running to a covered walkway. Hole-filled pockets bore some grimed receipts, old notes, worn cards, and damaged pictures in a wallet that was drawn up. She inserted plastic; as the m'chine slow- processed four fast digits, vehicles blurred past and disappear until, at last, a menu let her check the balance. Black in text, a zero showed up. Buzzing lights then flickered; rain felt bitter/harder.

Tell it, think it, speak it, breathe it

False flags on steel poles; you find their real goals cause hard heads to feel soles as reeled votes steal polls. Loss is a hand that's doled to thoughtless card holders; well oiled, pristine political machines need propaganda's grist cleaned and shoveled on the screens. Greed - democracy's splotch - fills you with the scotch blues; when the night is botched, sit back up to watch news. Feel cold and say burr under a cedar tree, or passover seder with Sam Seder, see his angered, sabered tongue work hard/labor long; hundreds of lungfuls from racist uncles tapered off. Like flaming fungal masses on crumpled paper, scoffed arguments hindered turn to cinder; try not to join the splintered dense blocks of tinder, dry rot. "Freedom isn't free, son..." some person breathes on as a prison's breeze comes; truth in neon: "Freedom isn't free, and it isn't freedom." Jaime Peck 'n' Michael Brooks wait with bridled facts on homicidal cops and Congress' idled acts. The left's best anchors, hosts of the Majority Report, unveil the languor of neofascist authority.

Reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it

Guinness in my system at a Regal cinema; someone said, "I miss him." Liquor mixed with cinnamon makes my throat feel dry; is that why I'm stifled? "On everyone's behalf, when we heard you laughing at Dave Rubin's gaffes, all our sides were halfing." Why am I nervous before the final curtain? "He did the world a service, that I say with certainty." "I want to drink, alright, rather than think all night; pour shots until bar fight hour is a starlight tour." Drink my Tennessee whiskey and Hennessy briskly in backgrounds of dim-lit rooms. As this dim-wit reflects, chances look slim; the future's a grim skit. Pillow to my head and sink in like lead, a stone carelessly embedded in the river bed alone.

Stand on the ocean until I start sinking

When one recollects that the keystone oft sank in the sand before standing aloft among clouds on a mountain so solid of faith and devotion, it's then that a false step compels men, "Recover!" I noticed thrombosis had felled the calm warrior, that saint among saints that is Archangel Michael; the champion of men and proponent of justice inspires l'avant-garde to claim in it's crawling a victory not pyrrhic but won with empiric- al knowledge against an- tithetical sirens that draw men towards hatred with bigotry, envy, and greed. So, surrender your voice, but renounce not your thoughts, and remember the message borne by a colossus that called out to Lazarus, "Come forth."

Know my song well before I start singing

Cantos coming soon to a year near you!

Notes

This is the order in which the poems were written: 2, 1, 4, 3, 6, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. I plan for poem 13 to be a series of cantos based on my time walking through a park in my home town.

What will you do?

This poem was written months ago while I was still a Tumblr poet and is the introduction to the final section of the Going to Fall collection of poems I've written. The next poem will be posted when I figure out where I saved it.

The depths of the deepest, black forest

I thought I had a poem for this portion of the final section of my "Going to Fall" poetry collection, but I couldn't find it. Luckily, the haiku challenge issued for November prompted me to write this in place of the imagined poem.

The people are many, their hands are all empty

There were two prompts for this poem. The first is an obscure words poetry contest that I volunteered myself, in which I received the prompt "Xenodochial" (which means hospitable or kind to strangers). The second was from a challenge I made [for] myself [...] I had been stuck on this particular portion for months now, so I'm glad to have something appropriate and fitting.

The pellets of poison flooding their waters

Perhaps I put too much thought into a story about a guy closing up after a hallucination. The stuff in the parenthesis was typed last, but I only put it in because I could find no better way to add that the narrator is thirsty. I was going to write a twelve poem collection on this prompt, based on monthly news stories of people making the world a worse place, but the poems were scrapped. I do hope to revisit the idea under a different title.Perhaps I put too much thought into a story about a guy closing up after a hallucination. The stuff in the parenthesis was typed last, but I only put it in because I could find no better way to add that the narrator is thirsty. I was going to write a twelve poem collection on this prompt, based on monthly news stories of people making the world a worse place, but the poems were scrapped. I do hope to revisit the idea under a different title.

The home in the in the valley meets the damp dirty prison

I had the first two lines stuck in my head for a couple of days. This is the result.

Hunger is ugly, souls are forgotten

This is just a poem comparing oysters and people.

Black is the color, none is the number

October 11, 2020 corrections: *line 4 - "And" -> "As" *line 7 - "." -> "," *line 8 - "Thunder-crash!" -> "thunder-crash!" and line split. *lines 13-16 - "Hole-filled pockets - dirty, wet - hold paper/plastic cards and damaged pictures in a wallet. It is" replaced with current version. *lines 18-21 - "plastic; as the machine processed four fast digits, vehicles dove on past and then they disappeared. At" replaced with current version.

Three Poems for the Great Progressive

This poem came together from the following stanza that I spit out a couple of nights ago: Passover seder with Sam Seder under my cedar tree. Say burr, see his sabered tongue labor long. Hundred lungful's hinder cindered minds. The tinder finds a racist uncle's baseless tongueful like dry rot: the fungal waste is erased from space. Try not It includes one line I wrote a few years ago: "I drink my Tennessee whiskey and Hennessy briskly." The poem is basically about listening to the news all the time because you're sick, feeling restless, going out to the movies and bars, and finally going to sleep. July 20, 2020 update: Completed in honor of Michael Brooks. Also, I wrote the following poem soon after I heard the news, but did not put the time into it that I would have liked. The ground is dry and leaves grow thin. When the new moon is out the fuses trip, the grid's offline, and the world stands too still, I look to the sky as the gold flecks fly; ember is ash. A chill climbs up my spine; stomach can't dip lower. I cannot scout a star within the restless sky. August 11, 2020 update: I saw a contest early morning and wrote the first stanza of the third poem. The second stanza was written after I returned from work. The prompt was the first line from the Beatles' "A Day in the Life".

NOTE: This is the title for “Tell it, think it, speak it, breathe it,” “Reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it,” and “Stand on the ocean until I start sinking.”

#poem #original #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #writerscreed #Going to Fall #What will you do?#Going back out before the rain starts falling #The depths of the deepest black forest #The people are many their hands are all empty #The pellets of poison flooding their waters #The home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison #The executioner’s face always well hidden #Hunger is ugly souls are forgotten #Black is the color none is the number #Tell it think it speak it breathe it #Reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it #Stand on the ocean until I start sinking #Three Poems for the Great Progressive

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gldngrl7 · 8 years ago

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Karamel Fic: Permission to Flourish (6/11)

Title: Permission to Flourish

Author: gldngrl7

Date Started: February 12, 2017

Rating: T for Teen (I know! I can’t believe it either!)

Author’s Notes:

· This story is the sequel to Bulletproof. Please read that one-shot before diving into this one.

· You have no way of knowing this unless I tell you – but I AM NOT A DOCTOR!! Having said that, I do my research and then hope I’m right on the medical stuff.

· Comments are welcomed, flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.

Chapter 6/11

It took some time for Mike to gain control of his rapid breathing and racing heart. Conflict raged righteous fire inside of him. He had wanted her to leave, to go back to the life he’d wanted her to have, but at the same time he wanted to see her again. Six years with only his memories for company had done nothing to chill the heat he felt for her, or the primal pull to be in her presence. Her departure was like being gutted, and still being conscious enough to watch, but powerless to stop it.

He paced the hallway outside the cafeteria, plotting his next move. Or rather, wondering what his next move should be. His hands shook and an uncharacteristic sweat had broken out on his brow. He wanted to go after her, search the skies for her – all the way back to National City if he had to.

But to say…what?

To lay his heart on the line again? To rollback all the effort he’d put into getting back on his emotional feet these last six years? He’d found his self-confidence, his place in this world, and his calling – could he really place that on a chopping block based on the slim hope that he could ever be more to her than the one that got away.

And maybe that’s all this was, really. Kara didn’t like to lose, everyone knew that, and though it hadn’t been his intent at the time, his departure must have seemed to her like taking a hit. He wasn’t sure he could risk losing the ground he’d worked so hard to gain, in the hopes that it might close the gaping wound in his chest. The injury as it stood now, he could live with, he was certain of that, but to open the opportunity to have salt poured into it was a gamble he was unsure he was willing to take.

So he decided that chasing her down wasn’t going to be on his agenda today.

Besides, there was still a little girl in surgery to worry about, and a distressed mother that needed someone to hold her hand and get her a cup of coffee.

Mike headed back into the cafeteria, to the disappointed, overheard groans of more than one lunch-goer. He picked up another coffee for himself and one for Belinda, and grabbed her a cellophane wrapped sandwich as well. He didn’t think she’d be able to eat right now, but he wanted to encourage her to keep her strength up.

Back in the surgical waiting room, he found her making phone calls on her cell, making plans for Amelia’s grandparents to fly in from Coast City as soon as they could pack some bags and get to the airport. Regardless of how the surgery went, Belinda was going to need her parents.

Mike handed her the coffee and the sandwich with a silent nod, unwilling to interrupt her phone call, and stepped away to offer her some privacy. On the other side of the large room there was a bay of floor-to-ceiling windows which is where Mike retreated to stare outside at the sunny day, so contrary to the storm clouds gathering inside his chest. Part of him searched for a streak or red and blue across the cloudless sky.

He pulled out his cell phone and dropped into one of the chairs next to the window. Flipping through his phone’s address book, he settled on the contact cleverly named ‘Asshat’ and pressed the call button. It rang four times before a gruff voice answered.

“Wayne,” he grunted. Not even a hello. But as usual, Mike Matthews didn’t rank when it came to getting the common courtesies.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, without a hint of sincerity. “Am I interrupting you whaling on some poor hapless fool who was forced, by circumstances, into a life of crime?”

“No one’s forced into a life of crime, Matthews,” the gruff voice retorted. “We all make our choices. We should be held accountable for them.” Clearly, this was a debate they had taken part in before.

“Says the guy who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth,” Mike retorted.

“Didn’t you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth?” Wayne rebounded sharply.

“I’ve since reformed.”

“Prisons are full of men who’ve said those exact words.”

“Cut the crap, Wayne. What did you think you were doing?” he accused.

“I take it from your tone that things didn’t go well.”

“You think?” he snapped.

“My mistake then.” Mike could practically hear Wayne’s smug, nonchalant shrug. “I thought you’d be ready to hear her out. I guess I was I wrong.”

“Your mistake?!” Mike chuckles darkly, incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? I made Clark promise to never tell her about me. Promise! Do you know how hard it is to get that guy to make a promise? It practically takes an Act of Congress. And then you come along and ruin all of that. You get that I didn’t run away from National City for me, right? I did that for her. It was all for her, and now it’s all for nothing.”

“I get it, Matthews. You did it all for her. Blah, blah, blah. It wasn’t working, okay? You need a new plan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I looked into that girl’s eyes, dumb shit, and do you know what I saw? It wasn’t a heartless, vapid bitch I was expecting to see after Clark told me what happened. It was a heartbroken little girl who knows she made the worst mistake of her life. I got to hear her side of things, kid, and I thought you should have the chance to hear it too, before you finished planning out what promises to be an unnaturally long and apparently loveless life. You’re welcome.”

Mike dropped his head into one hand, propped up on his knee, his other hand pressing his phone to his face. “You’re a dead man,” he told Wayne, his voice without heat. “I don’t know how yet, but I will find a way. I’m sure I can make it look like an accident. Big underground cavern like that must have its fair share of sharp and slippery surfaces.”

“Alfred keeps it tidy,” Wayne quipped. “Did you at least hear her out before you broke what was left of her heart?”

“I heard her,” he answered defensively. But had he? Had he really heard everything she’d been saying, or had be closed himself off from her words and, more importantly, their deeper meaning? “A little warning would have been nice. A head’s up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” This time Wayne chuckled and the sound grated like a rusty pipe, as though his laugh muscles didn’t get a regular workout.

“It wasn’t great timing,” he sighed. “Or…I guess it was…in a way.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Mike told Bruce about the accident and how he’d just been about to reveal himself as Valor in order to save Amelia, when Supergirl arrived as though heaven-sent.

“I know what Clark would have said about revealing yourself,” Wayne said.

“I wasn’t going to let her die,” Mike insisted.

“No, of course not. You wouldn’t be who you are if you did that. But it would have meant an end to your life as Mike Matthews. You would have had to disappear for a while, change your name, and you probably never would have been able to teach again. And I hear the Fortress of Solitude gets pretty cold this…well…every time of year. So again…you’re welcome.”

“I’m grateful that she was here, for Amelia’s sake, but the drama of it all…that didn’t exactly put me in a frame of mind to hear her out properly.”

“Well the good news is, you know where she lives. And if you don’t, I can find out for you. I have people who do that.”

“You have Alfred.” Mike deadpanned.

“He does that.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Mike snorted. “I think we all know who the real hero is at the Wayne Manor.”

“Oh, I have no delusions on that score.”

There was a moment of silent and rare camaraderie over the line before Mike spoke again. “Look Bruce, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t involve Kara in your schemes to take the mickey out of me. I don’t care about the rest of it…just not Kara, okay?”

“I didn’t do it to take the mickey out of you, Matthews,” Wayne said.

“Then why did you?”

Silence reigned on the line, only this time it lacked the comfort that existed before. This time Mike could hear the stress of it, as though time itself was straining against its own fabric. Bruce sighed long and deep, ending the quiet before speaking. “Because I loved a woman once, Matthews. She died and I couldn’t save her. I’d give anything for the chance you have now—the chance to put it back together. You’re an idiot if you don’t take it.”

Guiltily, Mike squeezed his eyes shut so tight they crinkled around the edges. He hadn’t known about Bruce’s loss. Of course more than once, he’d idly wondered why a man his age with endless funds and resources, wasn’t able to find a woman to marry him and have his children. The fact that he was kind of a cantankerous asshat couldn’t be the only reason why he was still single. Plenty of women out there that would happily put up with Bruce’s unintentional douchebaggery and expert level crankiness for a shot at a black American Express Card and a private Gulfstream in the hangar.

Suddenly, so many things about Bruce made sense.

“You’re thinking that suddenly so many things about me make sense, aren’t you?”

Mike perked up, his gray eyes blinking as though he were staring into a blinding light. “Yep.”

“Look, kid, I know you’ve never given a single fart for what I think, but for once in your life listen to the advice of your betters—“

“I think you mean elders,” Mike wisecracked.

Bruce sighed, this time the sound of someone forced to suffer a fool. “Just...for once in your sorry life, don’t be blockheaded. Not about this. Take some time to think about it. If you believe…truly believe…that you can move on and be with someone else, then by all means…live that life. But if you can’t…if you accept you can’t…then you know what you have to do. You think you’ve been building something all these years, Matthews, but the truth is…you’ve just been playing for time. One way or another, you need to start living again.” Mike opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce steamrolled right over him, as was his way. “Because when I looked into her eyes I realized something – you’ve both just been waiting to find a way back to each other. It would be helpful if you would stop being such a dickwad about it.”

He could always count on Bruce to pull no punches. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “But right now, Amelia has to be my priority, at least until she’s out of the woods.”

“I’m sure that girl of yours would have it no other way.”

“She’s not my gi—“

“Yeah, whatever,” Bruce blew him off. “Look I’ve got to wrap this up—I’ve probably lost a hundred million dollars in the time it took to have this conversation. This global conglomerate doesn’t run itself, you know. Hey, Matthews?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your student. I hope everything works out.”

“I hope so too. Thanks.”

The other end of the line went silent without a hint of white noise, and Mike knew that Bruce had hung up. Bruce’s advice hadn’t been without merit, but Mike didn’t have time to chew on it since a second later he saw Belinda stand up in response to a surgeon entering the room and honing in on her. Mike was on his feet and by her side in a flurry of movement, to hear what the woman in dark blue scrubs had to say.

Her skin was the color of dark chocolate and she had cheekbones that could cut glass, but her dark brown eyes exuded a warmth, which seemed reserved for Belinda, perhaps because they were acquainted with one another. Mike’s instincts said that the doctor was usually more reserved and professional with patient families, kept herself at a distance, but was taking pains to put Belinda at ease.

“Belinda, you daughter had an intracranial hemorrhage of the vertebral artery, which we were able to repair surgically with a craniotomy. Because your daughter suffered a traumatic brain injury we need to keep an eye on her Intracranial Pressure, so we’re going to maintain her intubation and keep her in a medically induced coma for the time being. This should give her brain time to recover. In the meantime, we’re treating her with corticosteroids to control the swelling in her brain, proton pump inhibitors, ACE inhibitors, as well as intravenous Fosphenytoin to prevent convulsions. The next 48 hours are critical, but there’s a lot to be hopeful for,” she said.

Much of what the doctor said may have made sense to Amelia’s mother, but it all sounded terrifying to Mike. “There is?” he queried.

“Yes. Her vitals remained stable throughout surgery and continue to do so. She’s responding to the treatment, and though unconscious, her reflexes and involuntary reactions remain intact. Unfortunately, we can’t get an accurate GCS score until after we pull her from the coma. We’ll have a better idea of a long term prognosis at that time.”

“And when will that be?” he wondered.

“I can’t be sure,” she answered, honestly. “Let’s just get through the next 48 hours and then we’ll reassess. At any rate, she’ll be in the ICU for a few days at least, that way when she wakes up we’ll be able to monitor her for a potential re-bleed. She’s being moved to the ICU right now…you should be able to see her in an hour or so. I know you know the drill, Belinda, just remember that it looks worse than it actually is.”

“Thank you, Dr. Dagmar.”

“They’ll page me if there are any changes,” she nodded at both Belinda and Mike before turning to walk away.

Belinda let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for hours. Not the kind of breath that fuels the lungs and body, but the kind of breath that sustains the soul. She swayed on her feet as though releasing the air had caused her to deflate like a balloon. Mike reached out to steady her, anchoring her body against his, before walking her back to the sofa.

“She made it through the surgery,” Belinda said, her voice shaking. “I prayed that if she could just make it through surgery, I’d take whatever came after that. So…the next step is to get her through the next 48 hours.”

“What can I do?” he asked, taking her hand again.

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, flustered by his offer. She hadn’t expected him to do more than stick around to make sure Amelia made it through surgery.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to stay with you until she’s settled in her room. Are they going to let you stay the night?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m a NICU nurse,” she indicated her pink scrubs as an explanation. “They’ll let me stay as a courtesy. And because children always heal better when they’re surrounded by loved ones.”

“That’s good. I’ll be expected in class tomorrow, but I’ll be back as soon as school’s out. Maybe I can sit with her then…give you a break?”

“That would be great, Mike. I know she would really appreciate it. I’m certain she’ll know that you’re there. Somehow. Anyway, I’m going to make a few more calls and see if I can get my parents a room at the hotel across the street. I think that will be easier than having to go back to our apartment.”

After about half an hour they relocated to the ICU waiting room; a smaller and cozier place close enough to Amelia’s room to see nurses come in and out. He called Erica and gave her the update, completely confident that the word would spread to all and sundry like a row of houses on fire. Like a true friend that Erica was, she showed up at the hospital, long after dinner time, to bring him a stack of things from his desk.

“Yesterday’s homework,” she told him. “And today’s Social Studies worksheets.”

“If you really loved me, you would have graded them for me.”

She side-eyed him before handing him the black bag in her hands. “And your laptop,” she held the bag aloft.

“Bless you,” he changed his tune. With his laptop and the free hospital Wi-Fi he could keep himself busy for hours. He had a backdoor password through the firewall of the Philadelphia 911 dispatch. From his laptop he could monitor events unfolding all over the city and determine whether his presence was needed at a moment’s notice.

“How is she really?” Erica asked, concern etched deeply on her face. She looked as though she had aged a decade in the last few hours.

“Same,” he replied, with a shrug. “I’m afraid we’re in a no-news-is-goods-news situation for the next few days. If nothing changes, that’s progress, since they’re intentionally keeping her in a coma. When they decide it’s time to wake her up…that’s when we’ll really know. What were they saying at school?”

“The kids are worried about her. We spent the last hour of school making a get-well-soon card for her,” she evaded.

“I wasn’t talking about the kids,” he countered.

She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Accidents happen, Mike, and sometimes they’re bad.”

“It’s my first year,” he pointed out.

“And you’re a rookie. No one is blaming you and as long as her mother doesn’t decide to come after you, no one else is going to either. I was there, remember. I told them everything. If anything, it was my fault for distracting you.”

“Don’t do that to yourself too, Erica. We weren’t doing anything we don’t usually do.”

“They might take down the jungle gym, though. Kids aren’t going to like that. “

“Whatever keeps them safe,” Mike agreed. “I’ll find other ways to keep them occupied. Hey, do you think they’ll let us play paintball?” he joked.

Erica laughed, the first one since the accident. “Not on your life.”

“Well, I’ll figure something out.” They chatted for a few more minutes before she left, returning to her home and her waiting husband. She urged him to get some rest because his kids would offer no quarter in the morning.

After two hours of grading papers and frustratingly human speeds he made a decision and packed this things. He needed to do something. He needed to fly, to feel the wind against his face and hear the sound of it whistling through his cape. It was hard idling in a place like this without being aware that there were other people out there in need of help. He left a message with the ICU nurse on duty, to let Belinda know that he would see her tomorrow afternoon as promised, but that he needed to get home.

Mike grabbed his things to take them out to the car and passed through the main lobby on his way out, just as news of a refinery explosion on the banks of the Schuylkill River came across the crawl, interrupting the regularly scheduled program.

Perfect. Just what he needed.

Something went horribly wrong at the refinery, a worn pipe in the Cat-cracker led to a catastrophic failure creating an explosive gas cloud, which was then sparked by a worker banging a wrench against the pipe at an inopportune moment. The worker and three of his colleagues were dead in an instant, engulfed by a fireball that led to a secondary explosion throughout the Cracker.

Plenty of fuel on hand to feed the fire, without intervention the blaze could conceivably rage for days. Valor assessed the situation from a bird’s eye view. Clark had trained him to evacuate first, and deal with the threat after everyone was clear, which was exactly the tack he chose. A Nomex-suited worker in a hard hat, his face covered in soot, waved frantically at him from atop a cooling tower. The base of the tower was ablaze, which would inevitable cause the tower to lose structural integrity and collapse.

He landed beside the man, slipping one arm around his waist, while he guided the frightened man’s arm over his shoulder. “Hang on,” he instructed, raising his voice over the sound of the fire and the scream of rending metal.

The muster point wasn’t hard to find. A safe distance from the fire, where those who got out at the first sign of danger gathered to take roll and determine who was missing. Valor was assaulted by frantic voices telling him of colleagues still missing in the facility and where they were assigned to work, giving him an idea of where to locate them. Where the workers’ instructions didn’t help, his super hearing did. He honed in on heartbeats, easier to hear in their adrenaline soaked state.

Valor moved in a blur of red, almost faster than the human eye could comprehend, tearing away the twisted detritus blocking the exit door of a control room to release the seven workers trapped inside. He instructed them to the muster point and moved on to the Delayed Coking Unit, where three men were huddled together on a stairwell, the bottom 100 feet of which was blown away by the initial explosion. He would have to put out the fire quickly before it reached the Coking Unit, or the entire place would go up in a fireball, the resulting gas cloud driving people in a four mile radius out of their homes for weeks, or even months to come.

Thankfully, those three men were the last of the missing and he finally was free to neutralize the threat. He used his arctic breath to chill the Coking Unit to buy himself some time while he froze chunks of the Schuylkill River to put out the fire. Heat from fire melted the frozen sheets creating a rain that doused the fire bit by bit. He went back to the river four times until the flames were low enough to take care of the rest with his freeze breath. To be certain of the safety of the surrounding neighborhood, Valor flew in ever-expanding circles over the refinery at hypersonic speeds until the smoke and fumes dissipated enough to reach non-toxic levels.

His final task was the most sobering; cooling the smoldering shell of the Cracker enough so that the HazMat crew could retrieve the remains of the four dead workers. Assuming there was anything left to retrieve.

Their thanks were profuse and he stuck around for a few moments because Clark had taught him that sometimes people needed to show their gratitude. Sticking around to shake their hands and learn their names was something he did for them – not for himself.

Especially on a day like today.

TBC

#karamel #karamel fic #bulletproof verse

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waxeight06-blog · 6 years ago

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The Weekly Roundup: Your Go-To Guide For Everything You May Have Missed This Week & More! 12/01 – 12/07

Welcome to Ben Greenfield's Weekly Roundup and Cool New Discoveries!

Ben Greenfield's discoveries from the latest news from the fronts of fitness, nutrition, health, wellness, biohacking and anti-aging research. I also recap my upcoming events and special announcements so you can keep up with giveaways, discounts, and more!

New Discoveries Of The Week: Cool New Things I'm Trying, Books I'm Reading, And More!

– A Crazy New Essential Oil I'm Using For Sex/Dreams/Euphoria

Ultrasonic Damiana: My friend Dr. Nick Berry (previous and fascinating podcast guest here) occasionally sends me crazy brews and blends from his secret lab in Oregon, and the latest is quite intriguing. It's called “damiana”. The ingredients of his so-called “Ultrasonic Damiana Tincture” include organic honey spirits, filtered water and organic damiana extract. It is described as slightly euphoric, uplifting and warming to the digestive system and also stimulates the abdomen, sexual organs and solar plexus.

I've definitely gotten pretty euphoric, and quite horny, several times when using this tincture. There's a more thorough description of the product and if you wish to dive into Dr. Berry's thoughts/feelings on his Ultrasonic Damiana Tincture here (where you can also read about the synergy of high dosage damiana and mugwort if a night of really pleasant vivid dreaming is your thing).

– Sensory Deprivation/Sleep Biohack

David Delight MindAlive PRO: Even though I've owned a David Delight for over a year, I've recently been breaking it out for long airplane rides, naps on the most stressful days of the week, or to initiate sleep/beat insomnia and…holy hell. I'd forgotten about the potency of this thing (and am kicking myself for forgetting I had it tucked underneath my couch with a few other biohacks I'd forgotten about). It is a small, phone-sized device that uses pulses of auditory and visual stimuli to alter your brainwaves, and it does so quite dramatically. It also contains a built-in cranial electrical stimulation feature that plummets your cortisol and puts you into relaxation very quickly.

I consider it, from a sensory standpoint, to be the technological equivalent of a float tank. You simply put on the glasses, attach a clip to each earlobe, place headphones in each ear and you're “dead to the world”. It also comes with a handy connection that lets you pipe in sounds from your iPhone if you want to combine it with binaural beats, white noise, music, etc. Well worth owning, in my opinion. You can get the exact model I own on Amazon here. It's a bit of a trip too when combined with psilocybin, LSD, the damiana oil above, or marijuana (for those of you who are more hedonistic).

Podcasts I Recorded This Week:

Articles & Podcasts I Was Featured In This Week:

– No Proof Energy Drinks Harm Blood Vessels, Unhealthy for Other Reasons

– MindBodyGreen podcast: Daily Biohacks ANYONE should try that are minimal effort and affordable

– Why I Started Training with Ben Greenfield

– Keys For Brain Health and Cognitive Function with Ben Greenfield

Special Announcements:

::: My Mindvalley Quest Course for Optimizing Beauty and Longevity is Finally Live! :::

My obsession with longevity started when I recently took a telomere test, which gives you a measure of your biological age by analyzing your DNA found in your white blood cells. I took the test when I was 34, and discovered despite my best intentions that my body was actually aging faster.

My motivation to reverse the clock was fired. Research, self-experimentation, analyzing my fitness and nutrition, I was delighted upon retesting my telomeres again earlier this year to discover that I managed to shave 17 years off my biological age.

What surprised me most was that I was able to achieve this through protocols and biohacks that were EASY. No fancy equipment. No wildly complex or long workout sessions. No expensive pills or creams.

So here it is. In my first Mindvalley Masterclass, I disclose the most powerful protocols you can apply in your life now to elevate key pillars in your wellbeing (namely your health, fitness, beauty and longevity). Sign up, free, today, here.

::: Take Your Productivity and Focus to the Next Level in 2019 :::

Join me in this free masterclass for enhancing your cognition, focus, and memory where you'll learn the proprietary Superhuman Brain Methodology: simple checklists, step-by-step solutions and little-known protocols that invite healing, brain upgrades and next-level performance.

Whether you're in need of healing or simply enhancing your brainpower, you are going to learn practical wisdom and next-level hacks to enhance your brain function. These tips are priceless and will last you a lifetime. The Superhuman Brain Masterclass is online and begins Monday! Register here today.

::: Save $30 on the WHOOP Self Quantification Wristband :::

Know someone who's ready to start tracking their health insights in 2019 so they can make informed choices about their diet, supplementation, exercise and recovery routine? WHOOP could be the perfect gift…

Monitoring recovery is, in my opinion, the main thing that sets WHOOP apart from other wearables, aside from the simple, personal preference of wearing a wristband, waistband, ring or other. “Recovery” is basically how well-prepared WHOOP predicts your body is for taking on more ‘strain.' It also gives you a very accurate heart rate variability (HRV) measurement that is taken during the last 5 minutes of your slow wave sleep (aka deep sleep) each night, unlike other wearables. Get more information on WHOOP and take a deep dive into their fascinating patented, technology, here.

Upcoming Events:

– December 2 – 8, 2018: RUNGA Retreat, Dominican Republic. You're invited to join me at RUNGA in December 2018. Join me in the Dominican Republic, one of the most beautiful places in the Caribbean, for this retreat. In all RUNGA activities, RUNGA invites you to come home to yourself. To see everything you'll be getting into, just click here. Use code BEN when you register so you get your gift when you arrive! I'll be there, too. Join the waitlist here.

– December 14 – 16, 2018: World Congress 2018 Hosted by the American Academy of Anti-Aging Medicine, Las Vegas, Nevada. If you attend any conference this year, make it the American Academy of Anti-Aging Medicine’s 26th Annual World Congress. The fact is, in an era of andropause, low drive and deteriorating men's health, it's shocking that both practitioners and the public aren't aware of ancestral wisdom and modern scientific and medical tactics that can be used to optimize male physiology. It's time that changed, and I'll be teaching exactly how to make men, men again. Join me!

– Jan 20 – 21, 2019: Serious Business Conference, New Orleans, Louisiana. This conference is going invoke thought and insight and expose you to new ideas and thinking on self-development and business in the beauty industry. Register here.

– April 6 – 7, 2019: FitCon Summit, Salt Lake City, Utah. FitCon® encourages everyone to Find Their Fit. It does not matter whether it is powerlifting, Crossfit, bodybuilding, roller derby, or even axe throwing. Be sure to visit the Kion booth in the expo!

-View the Official Ben Greenfield Fitness Calendar Here

This Week's Most Popular Instagram Pic:

This Week's Most Popular Tweet:

https://t.co/3YFkusMvWS

— Ben Greenfield (@bengreenfield) November 27, 2018

My Most Popular Facebook Post This Week:

Big takeaways from the ketamine journey at BioresetMedical.com: 1) Love More, Give More;2) God Is, Love Is;3) Jessa, Ben, River & Terran live a life of helping others and spreading peace, love and joy – I as a leader must be an example for my family of how to do that;4) I have a very high amount of yang, physical, carnal, sexual energy that I must channel and pray to God to help me direct into yin, loving, giving energy, especially if I am to avoid the constant temptation to achieve, impress and satisfy the flesh.5) I am a King, a Leader & a Lover.

Posted by Ben Greenfield Fitness on Saturday, December 1, 2018

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Ben Greenfield Fitness saved to “Ben's Nutrition Advice.” Read the article here.