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verobatto · 3 years

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Destiel Chronicles

Vol. XCV

It was a love story from the very beginning.

And You Are Not Here... (Part. III)

(13x04)

Hello my friends! This is another meta from season 13. We are still mourning with Dean...

I'm gonna focus in just one episode, because I have a lot of things to say about this one. Obviously, the majority of the things have been already analyzed by the meta community.

But, let's see what we find...

Move on

Remember how the last episode ended, with Dean blowing out his feelings and pain to his brother, so, this episode starts with Sam trying to talk with his brother about that. And by that I mean: Cas.

SAM: Hey. How you feelin’?

[DEAN is working on his laptop. He looks up at SAM, but doesn’t reply.]

Sam understands now that fact he had always suspect, what really means to Dean losing Castiel. But Dean sees it coming and doesn't answer, because he knows he let his pain and mourn talking by themselves, and now he wants to come back to hide behind his walls. But Sam won't let that goes so easy. Another heated discussion about Jack brings the topic back.

SAM: Dean, we can’t hide him forever. And, you know, just keeping him cooped up here isn’t working.

DEAN: Yeah, it is, actually. You wanna know why? Because as long as he’s here, he’s not out there doing God knows what. So what, does this mean that your plan for bringing Mom back isn’t working? ‘Cause I’ll say it again—Mom’s dead, Sam. Lucifer ripped out her freakin’ heart. Now, the sooner you can wrap your head around that, the sooner we can all move on.

(Gif set credit @demondetoxmanual )

Look at this, Sam takes Dean's words and immediately repeats the ask but with another different meaning, aeaning his brother gets immediately. Sam tilts his head, and his eyes are searching for the answer in Dean's face, because he knows he won't have the answer in words from him.

These exchange of gazes is so so important, because Dean is saying "Are you really asking me if I can move on... From CAS?" Because is obvious Sam was implying that, for Dean, losing Cas was more painful and unbearable than losing Mary. "You want to move on, from mom?"

The pause, the coma, is pointing Sam is referring Castiel, not mom. Is not mom the one you want to move on, right?

Dean's silence is priceless, both men talks without talking, and both know what they're talking about. Of course Dean can't move on from Castiel. And Sam knows it. Because he experienced the same with Jess.

And Dean changing the subject after that is saying HE WON'T TALK ABOUT IT.

Lies and Toxicity

We have a beautiful scene between Jack and Sam, in which Jack snaps all the bad things he heard last night. But Sam explains to him, they need his help to bring Mary back, and Jack can connect again with S through the pain of losing their moms. And he gives the kid a tip to conquer Dean's sympathy.

SAM: (...) Listen, if there’s one thing that Dean respects, it’s effort. So come along. Help us out. Let’s go be the good guys.

So we'll see the kid really giving everything in this mission.

Another quote that caught my attention was Jack saying this:

JACK: I thought lying was wrong.

Just came to my mind episode 14x19, when Jack is sick of so much lies and turn the world into 'just truth's real madness!

And another foreshadow in the same episode we will have Cas coming back, they're talking about this ...

DEAN: (...) why’d she come back from the dead and knife his ass?

JACK: People come back?

SAM: When a person dies and their soul can’t move on…

Talking about this in this specific episode has a meaning: the wife, the woman that man loved coming back from the death, is a reflection of Castiel coming back at the end of this episode. Souls that can't move on, is talking about Dean and Castiel's decease.

Another thing that is pointed in this episode is Sam seeing the bad things of John Winchester in his brother.

Castiel in the Empty

As the preamble to Castiel in the Empty, we had this dialogue here...

JACK: My mother… could she be a ghost?

SAM: No, we, um… we burned the body.

DEAN: That’s right, and what gets burned… stays dead.

Dean is saying this to himself because they burnt Cas' body too, but this scene is cut and we jump into the next one: Castiel walking around the Empty.

Then, again, Dean goes with this quote here...

DEAN: So, aside from getting dead, what do Gloria and Wes have in common?

And the scene cuts to Castiel again, emphasis in loved people that was dead, and now comes back from it.

Another interesting scene is Dean finding Gloria's diary of mourning.

SAM: More of the same. Um, he really was into the whole catharsis thing.

DEAN: Yeah, sure. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, it’s like another word for “happy ending”.

Dean shows here he knows exactly what that is, and how you can feel when you lose the love of your life. The "happy ending" is a reference of a suicidal thoughts as another way out from the pain. And as we will see in the next episode, was a way out Dean was considering for himself. Also, the journal was made by John after Mary died, and was made by this widow, after his wife died. Is important because in the interview with MIA (the ship shifter therapist) she will ask Dean if he has a diary.

Sam talks about catharsis, as an important way to process the pain, and he really tried to make his brother to do that at the beginning of the episode. Failing.

MIA: Mm. Most of the people I see are in the same boat. No warning, no goodbye, no closure.

These words play an important role for Sam, Jack and Dean, in loosing their mothers and loosing Castiel.

They exchanged heated words again in front of Mia, Sam accusing Dean because he is not carrying well with the deaths, and we'll have again an indirect question, with second meaning. Sam will be talking about Castiel again. But then, and just like Dean did at the end of the previous episode, Sam will have his blow out about losing Mary. Is a blatant comparison between Romantic Love (CAS/Dean) and Family Love (Sam/Mary).

Sam leaves, and Mia points at Dean. Dean drinks from his flask. He was doing that and eating a lot, as he always does when he loses Cas.

MIA: (...) You’re angry, Dean.

DEAN: And?

MIA: And if you don’t want to do anything about it, that’s your business. But you’re aiming it at everyone in your life.

Dean will take these words and do something about it, at the end of the episode. But, I want to talk a little about visual Narrative here, because while Mia was talking with Dean, there was a picture behind her, with BLUE/GREEN AND RED COLORS (Destiel).

The scene between CAS talking with the empty that had taken his shape is intertwined with the shape shifter that took Dean's shape. This is very meaningful bc both creatures decided to take the protagonists of this love story shapes.

So, the Empty explains where Castiel is, and also, is baffled by the angel that woke him up. Is the first time someone wakes up in the Empty, and the entity is really mad at it.

But Castiel doesn't know why he woke up, so, he went with the first idea: Maybe the Winchesters did some deal or spell. But they didn't.

The Empty represents all the darkness inside of Castiel: his doubts, his depression, his fears, his weakness. So, the only way to keep him there SLEEPING (as the image of depression) is to point at the lack of faith in coming back, or in feeling himself loved or needed.

The following dialogue shows us how smart is our angel.

CASTIEL: Having me awake causes you pain.

COSMIC ENTITY: If you can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. Yeah? And I like sleep. I need sleep.

CASTIEL: Then get rid of me.

COSMIC ENTITY: Oh, should I, should I?

CASTIEL: Send me back to Earth.

Castiel immediately detect the point of it, and tries to give a resolution for both of them.

COSMIC ENTITY: Or I throw you so deep into the Empty that you can’t bother me anymore, hmm?

CASTIEL: Except you know that won’t work, or you would’ve done it already.

COSMIC ENTITY: Pretty smart. Pretty smart, dummy.

CASTIEL: Send… Me… Back.

The first conclusion CAS arrives is by his side. The only way the Empty can get some peace is sending him back to Earth. What Cas doesn't know is, the empty won't come back to sleep, ever again after this.

COSMIC ENTITY: That’s not part of the deal. No, no. Besides, you don’t want to go back.

CASTIEL: Yes, I do. Sam and Dean need me.

COSMIC ENTITY: Oh, save it.

When the Empty says SAVE IT, is because he knows the excuse is making CAS to come back, is not the real one he has in his heart. Oh, save it is not because of that, is because ONE MAN NAMED DEAN WINCHESTER.

Because immediately after this, the Empty mocks him about it...

(Gif set credit @petercapaldi )

Look at Castiel's face when the Empty refers to his feelings as TULIPS, because the tulips represents the perfect lover, passion and romanticism. The tulip is a symbol of sincere love. It is an incredibly romantic flower that when giving it you express infatuation, passion, unconditional love, pure love.

So, the Empty is saying here: save it, you are in love, you want to come back because you are in love.

To the Empty, is very disgusting, aberrant, and it annoys him. He qualifies it as "little feelings"

Because he's trying to erase the hopes in Castiel. So, he shows him he knows everything about him, and if he didn't understand at first with the tulips reference, he makes it clear now I KNOW WHO YOU LOVE.

And seeding again the depression, because he needs CAS sleeping or defeated, he continues...

Unrequited Love. The Empty exposes right in front of Cas' eyes the fear of being unrequited. With this, he is trying to show him WHY WOULD YOU COME BACK IF DEAN DOESN'T LOVE YOU BACK? He needs to cut any hopes in the angel.

And after this, he shows CAS l his mistakes, and fears, and regrets, and guilts. All the bad things, all his darkness, to put him back to sleep.

But then, Castiel gets it, he is already saved. And with more energy and hopes inside his heart, he faces the empty again:

CASTIEL You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I’m awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for…ever. For eternity.

COSMIC ENTITY No. No.

CASTIEL Release me. Release… me.

Symbolism again! Castiel asking his own darkness and depression, and regrets to release him in that moment, he release himself from all of that and he returns stronger than never.

Lack of Faith

Back to Dean, Jack and Sam with the shape-shifters we can see another interesting visual element, next to Dean: Sunflower.

The sunflower is the symbol of the Sun and symbolizes love and admiration. But also happiness, vitality, positivity and energy. ... For some religions it is a symbol of the one who permanently seeks God, the divine, since the star king symbolizes God.

This could be linked to what Dean means to Cas, but I think is mostly what Cas means to Dean.

But jumping into the dialogues and the symbolism and parallel of having two Deans as we had two Cas, there's a little clue for a foreshadow...

Look at this, the scene is pretty blatant, we have Buddy, Mia's ex, obssesed with her, jealouse of her life, intertwined with the dialogue between Dean and Jack, showing how important Jack is.

So, Buddy is the Empty, Mia is Castiel. And the most important thing in there, is Jack... These are the ingredients and this is the dialogue...

BUDDY: I never stopped looking for you.

JACK: I can’t.

BUDDY: And when I found this place, when I saw all that…

DEAN: Yes, you can.

BUDDY: …warm, fuzzy good you were doing. I couldn’t let you have that.

Buddy is the Empty saying to Mia, CAS, that he will search for him in a future, and he will see his happiness, one of the most important persons to CAS is JACK, that's why the dialogues are mixed here.

DEAN: Sammy believes in you, and when he believes, he’ll go Hell for leather…

BUDDY:

So I took it all away, and it was fun.

DEAN …but you gotta try.

Again, the Empty mirror talking about taking all away from Mia, Castiel's mirror, and we have Dean talking to Jack. This is the foreshadow of 14x08, when the Empty will come for Jack in Heaven.

MIA You’re… you’re a…

BUDDY: What? A monster? Well, so are you. And it’s about time you embraced that. So I’m not gonna kill those boys. You are. You end them, or you die, courtesy of Tweedledee’s silver bullets. So what’s it gonna be, princess?

MIA: Shoot me. Shoot me!

And now we have Castiel's mirror giving her life in exchange for Dean and Jack. Just like CAS will do with his deal with the Empty in 14x08 and his ultimate Sacrifice in 15x18.

Now, the last scene. Sam is ready to move on from having faith but Dean will take the advice that Mia gave him. But in this attempt of stopping Sam from being like him, he will show again one of his deepest feelings...

(Gif set credit @aborddelimpala)

Dean had lost faith, hopes, because he lost Castiel. And Castiel represented all of that to him.

Sam is worried, and Dean just realized he said it. He had just showed his brother part of his depressive thoughts. And the sadness in his face is all over.

Miscellaneous: The address in Mia's office door was 219, this is a very interesting visual element, is a reference to episode 2x19, "Folsom Prison Blues", in which Sam and Dean were two prisoners, trying to show their innocence. Finally breaking free. As a foreshadow of the emotional prison we will see in Dean's possesion in episode 14x09.

To Conclude:

This episode is full of symbolism and is centered on Castiel and his storyline with the Empty.

The episode shows us too the pain carried by Dean, Jack and Sam in loosing the people they love and how each one of them walks through it in different ways.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-d @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh

If you want to be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from this season here you have the links:

Vol. XCIII, XCIV.

Buenos Aires, January 3rd 2021 6:46 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #Supernatural meta #season 13 meta #13x04 meta #Castiel #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Jack Kline

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nnnnoooooooooooo · 3 years

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My Ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s 25 Favourite Films Poll

The following is my ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s poll for their readers’ 25 favourite films of all-time. It contains a dozen or so favourites, several compromises, and a handful of personally foundational texts.

Seven Chances (1925, Buster Keaton): It ain’t easy to only choose one Keaton. This is one of Keaton’s films with a racist blackface character, which gave me some reservations. Still, this is a solid contender as his funniest picture, and, more importantly, this is Buster as I love him the most. Keaton’s characters were always the most cerebral and lost, keen observers with no understanding. An inability to communicate one’s emotions drives the need to convert it into a physical experience; Keaton inevitably becomes the object that cannot be stopped. His full forced desperation and athleticism, he is a master of locomotion. Featuring the finalization of the chase gag, along with a generous serving of his brand of surreal.

City Lights (1931, Charles Chaplin): Comedically and emotionally devastating.

Trouble in Paradise (1932, Ernst Lubitsch): Lubtisch’s portrayal of Continental aristocracy on the cusp. Containing love, melancholy, desire, rivalry, loyalty, betrayal, criminals, and thieves-- all saved by his grace alone, achieving a rare bliss of comedy and romance. Normally, I’d say that, in a temporal world, perfection exists only as a process, but then how would I explain this?

La grande illusion (1937, Jean Renoir): In the best of Renoir’s films, I find a type of harmony I find lacking in the rest of the world.

La règle du jeu (1939, Jean Renoir): In making this list, I never doubted either of these Renoir films having a place. Now, trying to write about my list, I find myself becoming frustrated at not finding the words to explain why I chose them. I’ve never been a great communicator, and I doubt that’s Renoir’s fault. I think it’s best for me to move on before I start misplacing my frustrations with my inability to write onto the film itself.

How Green Was My Valley? (1941, John Ford): Possibly the greatest movie ever made under Hollywood’s Studio System, and perhaps the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Hedy Lamarr might have seen in John Loder. More than any other actor, Sara Allgood carries this film, in her role as the matriarch of the Morgan household. This is chock full of great character actors and moments as you’d expect from Ford. It’s the magic of childhood, the safety of the womb, the cyclical nature of a town where nothing ever seems to change, and the devastation of entropy. I lost track of how many times I cried.

To Be or Not to Be (1942, Ernst Lubitsch): This is my choice for a comedy from the 1940s, despite stiff competition from Hellzapoppin’, and the 11 movies Preston Sturges released over the decade. I had the privilege of seeing this at my local Cinemateque with an introduction by Kevin McDonald. I was late, and the audience had already begun to talk back. He rolled, and we were soon laughing before the “projectionist” could hit ‘play’ on the Blu-Ray. My friend came later. It was a packed house, so we weren’t able to sit together. I enjoyed hearing the variances in people’s response*, and the timing of their laughter. Trying to pinpoint my friend’s laughter from the crowd, I couldn’t help but hear our host’s generous laughter throughout the film. What a joy it was for all of us to experience this film together. I guess I haven’t had a chance to share those other movies the way that I was with this one. *A nice change of pace, as this usually makes me self-conscious

Shadow of a Doubt (1943, Alfred Hitchcock): I find Hitchcock’s women’s pictures to be some of his richest texts. Besides which, any film asking me to sympathize with Theresa Wright already has a lot going for it. Alongside The Wrong Man as Hitchcock’s most tragic film.

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean): My favourite romance, whatever that says about me. A passionate extramarital affair between Laura Jesson (Celia Johnson) and Dr. Alec Harvey (Trevor Howard), told in flashback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this placed among noirs, but I think this could be an example of a women’s film noir. There’s a thick sense of transgression and fatalistic mise-en-scene, along with an inability to escape, which ends the film on an unconvincing return to safety. After the two lovers part for the final time, Johnson returns home. Her husband, Stanley Holloway, asks for nothing, and expresses gratitude for her return. However, for all of that loveliness, Johnson has learned that the world is far more fragile than she ever dreamt. The husband is portrayed as a bit childlike, and, coupled with the affably stiff upper-lipped nature of their marriage, Johnson is unable to confess what’s occurred, which only preserves her turmoil. Unable to consummate, sustain, or forsake her romance with Howard, she may find some refuge with her husband, but salvation eludes her.

Out of the Past (1947, Jacques Tourneur): RKO Pictures, film noir, Jacques Tourneur, and Robert Mitchum– These are a few of my favourite things. As a prude, I don’t care to admit that I love cigarette smoke in B&W pictures as much as I do, and it’s deployed here to its zenith, courtesy of Nicholas Musuraca’s cinematography. Daniel Mainwaring’s script, along with Tourneur and Mitchum, use underplay in order to create a heightened effect. Mitchum’s somnambulism grants his portrayal of Jeff Bailey an omniscient cool, which extends to his character’s bisexuality. There’s such delight in hearing Mitchum, one of the best voices in movies, deliver the film’s lyrical dialogue in his disaffected baritone.

The Big Heat (1953, Fritz Lang): Perhaps Lang’s most cynical film? The culmination of all his conspiracies. The law vs. criminals, no longer as separate from one another, but as sides of the same coin: the establishment. Sergeant Bannion (Glenn Ford) engages in total war against Lagana’s (Alexander Scourby) crime syndicate. Those caught in between end up as collateral damage, pawns in their game. Each dismantles the family unit, Lagana disposes of Bannion’s wife (Jocelyn Brando), and Bannion displaces his child, so that both sides can carry on unfettered. The happy ending finds Bannion happily back at work in the homicide department, where they’re informed of a grisly murder. Oh boy, here we go again! Gloria Grahame, a sister under the mink, reigns as my favourite actress in all of film noir.

The Sun Shines Bright (1953, John Ford): It’s not easy to film a miracle, a feat for which I’d pair this with Carl Th. Dreyer’s penultimate film, Ordet. Speaking of Dreyer, if you have 15 minutes to spare, here’s a great video of Jonathan Rosenbaum discussing this movie alongside Dreyer’s final film, Gertrud. The responsibilities and limitations of society. Communities are built through sacrifice, as we give of ourselves, which accounts for the film’s sometimes funereal tone. One’s resting spot as the place to make a stand, but what good is taking a stand if it doesn’t lead anywhere? Our redemption lies not in preserving ourselves, but in guiding the world to a place that no longer needs us. Thus, not a dying world to save, but an understanding that we must pass in order to bring about renewal. Funerals become parades, and parades become funerals, as we walk the strait and narrow path between tradition and progress. Don’t take a stand while the world marches on, but lead us into thy rest.

The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953, Roy Rowland): This is a musical written and designed by Dr. Seuss, which is to say that I think you oughta see it. Still, it’s hard to justify why I chose this over The Band Wagon. I’d probably better enjoy watching The Band Wagon, which I’d wager is Hollywood’s greatest musical, but there’s something about The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T that gets under my skin. I saw it on television when I was very young. Old enough to remember seeing it, but too young to remember more than three details: twins joined at the beard, the nightmare-inducing elevator operator, and a large piano requiring an exponential amount of fingers. This forgotten foundation, along with its Seussian imagery, grants the film a dreamlike feeling. Just as every good boy deserves fudge, every Hans Conried deserves a role like the one he has here, playing the titular Dr. T.

The Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton): A kid’s film featuring the personification of evil, not in Mitchum’s portrayal of the preacher Harry Powell, but in Evelyn Varden’s Icey Spoon. This movie is so full of indelible images that I sometimes forget LOVE/HATE tattooed on Powell’s knuckles. There’s a dreadful unease from the inability to fully save or preserve Ben & Pearl within a society whose systems turn on them so easily. Their safety is drawn and quartered at every turn, and so Ben & Pearl flee society, finding a guardian out yonder. Still, there’s a limitation to their newfound guardian’s protection. Their angel and their demon sing in harmony; evil becomes instructive to the children’s growth. It’s a hard world for little things, but there is hope. Mrs. Cooper (Lillian Gish) manages to find her redemption in protecting these children while she can. Perhaps we need them as much as they need us. This was Charles Laughton’s only film as a director, as well as the final of James Agee’s two films as a screenwriter. It isn’t right.

Sweet Smell of Success (1957, Alexander Mackendrick): This is my favourite film noir, possibly the nastiest as well. Of course, I cackle throughout the entire picture. Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis at their bests; the tension between a malevolent god and his jester/would-be pretender played as flirtation, conducting assassinations as though they were composing poetry. Shot on location in New York by James Wong Howe, giving us a view of Babel from the gutters up. Also, I’m just a big ol’ softy for Emile Meyer, who plays Lt. Kello.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957, Frank Tashlin): As I see it, this is the best sex comedy of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Tashlin previously worked at Termite Terrace, making Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, and did a brief stop making Screen Gem cartoons over at Columbia in the middle. After having brought feature film techniques to his cartoons, he brought cartoon imagery into his live-action films. This is a vehicle for Jayne Mansfield, who may have been the most cartoonish of the era’s blonde bombshells, and so it is a happy marriage indeed.

Playtime (1967, Jacques Tati): This is cinema. Ah! Tati, Ah! Modernity

Out 1: noli me tangere (1971, Jacques Rivette & Suzanne Schiffman): Rivette’s movies feel alive in a way that I haven’t found anywhere else. The films I’ve seen are about conspiracy, games, and the development of theatre troupes: things that exist only in our minds, and are dependant on our cooperation with others. Things get so twisted that you wonder how they’ll ever untie it all, only for the shared illusions to be revealed as a complex series of false knots. I broke my rule with this film, in choosing a film that I’ve only seen once. I didn’t make the time to revisit this or Céline et Julie vont en bateau, my other favourite Rivette film, so I went with the larger labyrinth to lose myself in.

F for Fake (1973, Orson Welles): This is Orson Welles’s most playful film. I love Welles, the personality, almost as much as I love Welles, the director, so I chose a movie that features both.

Mikey and Nicky (1976, Elaine May): Perhaps the most tense and dark comedy I’ve ever seen. May reaches her highest levels of drama here, and does so without any cost to her usual standards for humour.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946, Frank Capra): I wasn’t sure about including this, given that it’s not even my favourite James Stewart Christmas movie, but what can I do? It’s a Wonderful Life is an institution in my family, we’ve watched this every Christmas Eve since I was grade 6. There was a year or two in the early ‘10s where we might have missed it, but, otherwise, we’ve been devout. This is also one of four sources that laid the foundation for my love of movies, and, in particular, older movies. I hope to continue to watch this every year. It just wouldn’t be Christmas. Growing up, my brothers and I used to be allowed to open one gift the night of Christmas Eve, which evolved into my brothers and I exchanging our gifts for each other. The first year my brother’s and I exchanged gifts, we happened upon CBC playing It’s a Wonderful Life in a 3-hour timeslot. Filling in the gaps of my memory with ego, I’d say that I instigated our watching it. I was always the biggest sucker for holiday specials, as well as being the most drawn to B&W. It was an instant hit with all of us, and so two traditions were born that night. For those curious as to what year this took place, I gave my oldest brother a 3 Doors Down CD. My older brother got me the Beast Wars transmetal Terrosaur figure. And. It. Freakin’. Ruled. CBC continued to air It’s a Wonderful Life every Christmas Eve, and we continued to tune in. My brothers and I continued to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve for about another decade, but now my family has a better Christmas Eve tradition to pair with our holiday movie: Chinese food, and, less dogmatically, vegetable samosas. Leftovers become brunch. We’ve watched the movie, I think, twenty times now, which includes one viewing of the unfortunate colourized version, and once in theatres. It’s a great movie to come back to each year. There are lots of little moments, lines, and details to zero in on, and each year I get to internally test and brag to myself about naming and recognizing the various character actors and bit players that pop up. Still, I sometimes find myself resisting its charms. A couple of years ago, my view of Frank Capra changed. I no longer saw him as the director I had previously thought him to be*. I wondered whether this movie stood on its own merits, or if I was holding onto it for sentimental reasons. I have since settled on this film being a genuine classic. Another source of resistance is that I’ve never watched this on its own, there’s a lack of an individual foundation to my relationship with the film. I’m so accustomed to viewing films on my own, I think there’s a relief in a taking a private experience, and having it succeed in a public forum. The two support each other, which is part of why a couple of films ended up on this list. However, when it’s a film I’ve only seen in the company of others, I become suspicious of my experience. I believe in the power of cinema when it’s to my benefit, only to doubt it when I fear that it has the power betray me. I guess that I lack faith. *The director I once thought Frank Capra was, I now find Leo McCarey to be.

Doctor Who: The Lost in Time Collection (1963-69, various): This was a last minute decision that ended on a mistake. I ought to have chosen Daleks: The Early Years instead, which has the proper framing of a retrospective documentary. Daleks: The Early Years is a VHS release hosted by Peter Davison, featuring interviews with key people from ‘60s Dalek stories, cannibalizing clips from Dalekmania (another documentary on Daleks in the ‘60s), and orphan episodes and snippets from otherwise lost ‘60s Dalek serials. It’s also one of the VHS tapes that I grew up with, and my introduction to the fact that, at the time, over 100 episodes of ‘60s Doctor Who were missing and presumed lost. This was my introduction to the concept of lost media. Since then, a further 12 episodes have been found, and the number of missing episodes has dropped to 97. Instead, I chose The Lost in Time Collection, which is a 3-disc collection of orphan episodes and surviving clips from otherwise missing ‘60s serials, not actually a feature in itself. It’s a really nice sampling of the Doctor Who’s best era, and the episodes and clips are sometimes more interesting without the rest of their serial for context. While I didn’t get this collection until I was an adult, I had managed to see most or all of its contents growing up, mostly on various VHS compilations, as well as some clips online. As the deadline for submissions approached, I chose the one I enjoy more, rather than the one that first changed me. I suspect that Doctor Who was the first work of science-fiction that I got into, as it predates me in our household. My brothers and my getting into Transformers predates my memory, but it does not predate my being around. Doctor Who also served as my first exposure to B&W viewing. I was really into science-fiction growing up, and the genre was really my first interest in older films. The interest didn’t really bridge its way from my youth into my present. Heck, I wasn’t even particularly a movie person until into my twenties. In early adulthood, after fading for a bit, my fondness for science-fiction was more directed towards video games and books. So while it didn’t lead into my love of film and B&W, it laid a lot of the groundwork for what I’d eventually come to love. My oldest brother remembers staying up late with our parents to watch Doctor Who, and my older brother has memories of trying to stay up with them, but it was no longer airing on any of the stations we had by the time I was kicking. Loved, but unseen, it developed a sort of mythic reputation in my young mind. Over the years, we managed to see a bunch of serials on VHS through our local library system, and we eventually got 5 VHS releases of our own before the decade ended. We got a book, The Doctor Who Yearbook, which had listings and synopsises of every serial ever made. The classic Doctor Who series lasted 26 seasons, consisting of 153 serials, and just shy of 700 episodes. No matter how many episodes of Doctor Who I managed to see when I was growing up, it was only ever the tip of the iceberg. My younger self liked daydreaming about all of the adventures, planets, aliens, robots, and monsters, but that would begin to dissipate with age. While I loved Star Wars for the many of the same reasons as I did Doctor Who, the advent of more Star Wars wasn’t all that fulfilling, with Episode I: Racer for the N64 PC as a noted exception. More than the fact that I was caught up in the cultural backlash against George Lucas, the lack of a well defined characters and society in the original trilogy was a virtue. The toys and books really capitalized on this. I was the kid that wanted to know every weirdo and background character’s life story. I was such a mark. The more movies they made that added to the lore, the smaller their galaxy seemed to be, in opposition to an expanded universe. Each piece promising to add to the larger picture only seemed to reveal a smaller whole. More movies telling the same stories with different versions of the same characters. A galaxy that once seemed so vast now revealed to be comprised of maybe two dozen people, many of which are related or connected to each other in some tired and unnecessary way. Eventually, I got really into Jonathan Rosenbaum, and began to project my ego all over his preferences, to which Star Wars became a victim. I gave up on the series after sitting through a showing of Episode VII. Fires subside, and, these days, I’m mostly indifferent towards the series. Undergraduates can be a bit much, y’know? While the new Doctor Who series also fell out of favour with me, it was easier for me to divorce it from the original series. Having seen the series only in disparate pieces, rather than a linear narrative may have helped. I have no illusions that the original series is anything more than a silly kid’s show that mostly takes place in corridors, which is a fine thing to be. It’s enough to be a delight. The deceit of nostalgia is that I can return to these works I once loved with the same feelings and wonder that I had as a child. While I remain fond of Doctor Who, the whole of a serial is often less than the sum of its parts. After all, being a serial, half of the adventure is meant to take place in your head during the week between episodes. It’s the opposite of binge-watch material. It’s hard to commit to working your way through such a bulky series at a deliberately slow pace. Besides, even spacing the episodes out some, it’s still not going to capture my mind the way it would when I was a child. The virtue of the Lost in Time Collection is that you’re never seeing a serial as a whole, only as individual pieces. The collection consists of 18 complete episodes from 12 serials, with clips and bits from an additional 10 serials. Only one serial has more than two episodes featured, The Daleks’ Master Plan, a 12-part epic, which has its 3 known surviving episodes on the set. Freed from the responsibilities of being part of a larger story, you get to enjoy the pleasures of each episode as its own entity. Charm exists outside of context, and what may have been stretched and strained over half a dozen episodes can easily be sustained in the single episode or two that remains. A piece of Starburst may not keep its flavour any longer than a piece of Hubba Bubba, but at least it has the decency not to overstay its welcome. The less that remains of a serial, the more interesting it becomes. For some serials, the only surviving clips are the scenes that were cut by censors, and so you’re only seeing the juiciest bits. Protected by obscurity, just as recording in B&W protected this era of the series against its lack of budget, the childlike sense of wonder remains. Any missing serial could have been great. We lack evidence to prove otherwise. What little remains from these serials is enough to imagine what may have been, and it’s easy to give the benefit of the doubt to an old friend. No longer just a science-fiction adventure, the series has grown into a larger and more engaging adventure in film & television preservation. Thanks to its cultural status and following, questions as to how these stories were lost, why years of episodes were junked, how they were returned, in which disparate places were episodes found, who has been hunting for them, what were their methods, to what lengths did they go, what places remain to be searched, what remains to be found, what’s trapped in the hands of private collectors, and what has been lost forever have all been thoroughly explored, though some answers continue to elude us. For those interested, Youtuber Josh Snares has an extensive series of videos that breaks down many of these questions as best as one can with what’s publicly known, and, despite being on yotube, I don’t think he’s annoying. Doctor Who best represents my film lover’s sense of discovery, combining the joys of hearing about a film that piques my interest, trying to track a film down, discovering or rediscovering a new favourite, learning about film history, and the efforts of film preservation. Hearing about films I’d like to see can be nearly as rewarding as actually watching the films themselves. The more that I see, the more there is that I’d like to see. The harder something is to find, the more interesting it can become. Film is a physical object, so there is a battle against time for us to discover, recover, restore, and preserve works before they’re lost to time. The good news is that many efforts are being undertaken, both by professionals and by amateurs. The advent of crowdfunding has really helped to create more opportunities for completing these endeavours. Following an Indiegogo campaign, Netflix stepped in and completed Orson Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind. Many of Marion Davies’s silent films have been restored in recent years. Thanks to the efforts of Ben Model and his team, I will soon have the pleasure of seeing eight Edward Everett Horton shorts that haven’t been in circulation since the silent era. Steve Stanchfield (Thunderbean), Jerry Beck (Cartoon Research), Tommy Stathes (Cartoons On Film), and their cohorts are doing God’s work in finding and restoring old cartoons, and giving them an audience once more. I don’t think there’s ever been a more exciting time to be so out of touch.

The Muppet Movie (1979, James Frawley): The Muppets’ movies were a staple of our household growing up, and this ranks alongside The Great Muppet Caper as the best of them. This movie has a very self-aware humour to it, exemplified by the introduction. The camera wanders through a studio backlot, following a car carrying Statler & Waldorf, who provide us with the first dialogue of the film, announcing their intent to heckle the film. Inside, the Muppets are waiting for a private screening of The Muppet Movie to begin. It’s a disaster. A monster tears out one of the seats, the visibly deranged Crazy Harry blows up another, people are dancing in the aisles, and chickens are flying about. Objects being thrown include, but are not limited to, popcorn, Lew Zealand’s boomerang fish, and paper airplanes. A full-sized Muppet looms in the background, a giant colourful bird with enormous unblinking eyes, leaning a bit from side to side. An acknowledgement that somebody has let the animals in charge of the zoo. Still, a coziness remains amidst all of the chaos. Kermit attempts to introduce the movie to his peers, the lights go down, and he takes his seat. The movie opens in the heavens, where the credits and a rainbow appear. It clears onto a long, long shot of a swamp, slowly zooming in to reveal a frog on a log, playing a banjo, singing Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher’s The Rainbow Connection. We’re taken away. One of the most vital aspects of the Muppets is that they exist in our world, something that gets lost in their 90’s trend of literary adaptations. An entire world of Muppets isn’t much of a utopian vision, but the idea that these animals, monsters, and whatevers belong in society alongside ‘real’ people is. This trend was part of a larger regression throughout the years with the Muppets. What began as a self-aware humour turned into a self-depreciating humour, and, eventually, a self-loathing humour. The Muppets used to take on the world, but, in later years, they seemed unable to dream of anything more than getting back together once more, so that they could reaffirm their lack of success. Bring them back to life so they can take one more dying breath. This Muppet movie is filled with celebrity cameos, in part a tribute to their variety show, as well as to the vaudevillian origins of most of their shtick. Here, the cameos serve the Muppets. Later, the Muppets would take a backseat, and become vehicles for others, not even allowed to star in their own movies. I wish they were given better opportunities to shine. As good as this film is, I have to admit that this film’s treatment of Miss Piggy is embarrassingly sexist. While they don’t look like Presbyterians to me, at their best, I think the Muppets have almost as much hope to offer as any religion.

Transformers: The Movie (1986, Nelson Shin): Watching this movie gives me the feeling I always hope that I’ll feel whenever I’ve bought concert tickets. I don’t watch this so much as I sing along to it. I even knew Vince DiCola’s score down to a ‘T’. With all due respect to Storefront Hitchcock, this is my personal Stop Making Sense.

Air Alert V. 4 (late 2000’s, TMT Sports): First, and most importantly, I do not recommend Air Alert nor any other paid for vertical jump program. I cannot stress that enough. They’re not designed by people who really know what they’re doing, the marketing is predatory, they’re unjustly hard on your joints, and they’re methods are not in conjunction with their promises of wild vertical gains. While I hope to stop finding that people have also done Air Alert, I immediately feel a strong kinship with those I learn have also been misled. Air Alert is a 15-week vertical jump program that makes the dubious promises of adding 8-14 inches to yer vertical leap to everyone, regardless of their current physical condition. It promises to add explosiveness to yer hops, but its means are an exponentially increasing amount of jump exercise repetitions. This is to say that, in practice, Air Alert actually builds jumping endurance, which teaches yer muscles to conserve energy, rather than to expend it in an explosive manner. Like all jump programs, it also fails to address that much of your jumping’s height comes from a combination of your core and upper body strength, as well as technique. The version I got also came with an advertised-as-new Air Alert Advanced, a further 6 weeks of yet more intensive exercise routine to add another 3-6 inches to yer leap. I did the 15 weeks of Air Alert, and, like everybody else I’ve known, I got 2-3 inches added to my vertical. After the recovery week suggested following completion of the program, I tried dunking at the church. You had better believe that I told my dad to bring his digital camera, ’cause this was gonna be a big deal. Being able to dunk was surely going to usher in a whole new era in my life. Now, I had been wrong about these sorts of things before. I had become skinny, I got a couple of nice shirts, I listened to what I though was the right unpopular music, and I had stolen some jokes, but my life largely remained the same. It seemed as though my life couldn’t be redeemed by vanity and trivialities, J still wasn’t dating me, but this would be so much more. This was dunking. This was going to be different. We went to the church, and I had the same problems as before. I could get high enough, but I couldn’t throw down. The further you extend a limb from your core, the less strength it has at its disposal. I had little upper-body strength to begin with, and, fully extended, my hand is pretty far from my body. I’d always lose the ball on the way up, or lose height putting more of my strength onto the ball. Legs can only take you so far. At my best, I’ve brought the ball to the rim, lost it, and, thanks to momentum, had the ball go off of the backboard and in. A lay-up isn’t a dunk. My knees have been crunchy ever since. After a further month of letting my joints recover, I tried my hand at Air Alert Advanced. After the first week, which consisted of 3 days of 2000 individual jumps, some of my friends reunited to play soccer at our old high school. I was proud to see that the goals we had rescued were still on the field. However, I found that my joints were so worn down that I could only run at a steady pace in a straight line. Turning, accelerating, and decelerating were all, sadly, out of the picture. I decided not to continue onto the subsequent weeks. I was still a fatuous pauper, single, and working at a shoe store while friends had gone on to do other things, so what did I manage to accomplish? Well, for starters, I gained some athletic ability for the first time in my life, which was neat. I gained a lot of leg strength, endurance, and quickness, as well as the previously mentioned 2-3 inches to my vert, all of which I treasured. Despite being the skinniest guy on the court, my legs were strong enough to anchor me in the key, and contend with guys up to double my weight. I went from being a guy who showed up to Dunkball, to becoming a guy that people wanted on their team. While others got tired throughout the night, slowly losing their vertical, I managed to jump just as frequently and just as high in my last game of the night as I could during my first. As both the tallest and the lankiest guy at Dunkball, my height advantage now increased in the air. I’d let people box me out, only to jump and reach over them. I felt so free. I was, and remain, Dunkball’s most improved player. Of course, it helps to have the advantage of having started out lower than everybody else. Once, somebody brought a friend who was taller than me. It was awful. As for dunking? Well, I could dunk small balls at the church, if I could close my hand on them. I managed to dunk a flat soccer ball on an outdoor net at a school yard once, but I never verified its height. I could dunk at the Academy chapel with the rim fully raised, though that rim sags in the front, so I’m guessing that rim was about 9’10”. Still, that won me a game of H-O-R-S-E or two. Sometimes, when warming up for Dunkball, someone would instigate a dunk competition, and I managed to develop a trademark dunk which nobody could replicate or stomach: the underhanded dunk. Norm was the only person not to loathe it, bless his heart. While I never managed to dunk on a proper 10’ net, I was able to goaltend, which has no use outside of being a dick to a friend. I was smarmy enough to do it once. Even at Dunkball, I never became much of a dunker, except on turnovers or tip-ins, or unless I had a guard who could do the work of setting me up. I’m more opportunistic than aggressive, besides, who am I going to beat off of the dribble? On my worst nights, I was still a tall guy who could jump, so I always drew the interest of a defender. I’ve always preferred defence to offence, and my favourite offensive play is to box out their post-player, either to be in a better position to rebound, or in order to prevent them from goaltending. Defence is where Air Alert made the most difference for me. They either had to box me out in order to stop me from goaltending, or try banking it in. I could sit low enough to the ground to defend outside players without losing speed. With a lower net, some players didn’t arc their shots as much, allowing me to swat them away with ease. There was nothing better than blocking a dunk. Some people took it personally, and would try coming at you on the next play; we all loved blocking Joseph. Still, the best was blocking Norm’s dunks, even if it meant landing on my back. It was summertime, the final game of the night, with uneven teams and lopsided match-ups, but, somehow, it’s neck and neck. Not only are we still in it, we’ve had the lead. Will is shooting, Nathan is hustling, and I’m blocking everything. My greatest defensive game ends prematurely after I block one of Norm’s dunks, landing horizontally, with all of my weight squarely on my tailbone and elbows. I call it a night, and, in the morning, learned that we had lost immediately after I left. At this point, I had memorized Air Alert’s number of sets and routines, and so I lent the DVD to Graham. He promised to return it soon. This was in 2010. I learned how to juggle that August, but that didn’t save me either. I kept up my jumping exercises, doing week 4 as maintenance, losing consistency once I started university that fall. Dunkball slowly lost consistency, too, and so I eventually took up the reigns of organizing it. People changed wards, got married, moved, and started families. It was hard to motivate people to come out without a guarantee. At some point, I became one of the veterans. As Dunkball continued to lose consistency, and as I went through occasional bouts of burn-out withorganizing things, Dunkball changed from being year-round into seasons, and, later, patches, of activity. The benefit of being the one to organize Dunkball is that it allowed me to filter out the jerks between patches of activity. There aren’t a ton of rules, you can make a pass off the wall, you can charge, you can play it in the hall, and goaltending is a way of life, but life is too long to spend it with people who can’t play sports without yelling. We weren’t as athletic as we once were, but the new players were generally pretty skinny, so we were still able to push them around. I stopped buying bus passes after my first year of university, which helped me to maintain most of my leg strength. While I was in university, I managed to keep most of my vertical, but my confidence became precarious, which affected my intensity. I wasn’t soaking through my shirts anymore, I started to let people push me around. After I dropped out of university, I grew into a much more sedentary lifestyle. The leg strength I had used to define myself diminished. I’ve had a really hard coping with that. At times, the prospect of playing Dunkball felt more embarrassing than motivating. I felt lost out on the court. I didn’t feel strong enough to bump around in the key, and I felt sluggish trying to play on the outside. Still, I had now been around long enough that I was able to lead a team, if necessary. I’d hide from my refuge until I felt strong enough to return. Volunteering and winter each got me walking again. Collin organized a soccer team the summer before the pandemic, which got me running and jumping again. I felt more determined, and began to feel better. No longer trapped by where I was, or where I felt I should have been, I was content with making progress. I think that I handled the early months of the pandemic better than most people. With our usual routines in disarray, I stumbled out of the feedback loop I was caught in. Finding some self-compassion and focus, I created structure to my quarantine in order to work on some goals. I was going to come out of the quarantine dunking. I was joking this time, but I need to dream about something while exercising. Otherwise, I’m just jumping in place, staring at the door. I went through weeks 1-7 of Air Alert, ending with the rest week that marks the halfway point. After which, I returned to doing week 4 to maintain strength. With churches closed, activities cancelled, and others on lockdown, I started secretly meeting Nik on Saturdays to shoot the ball around. This was back when we were allowed to keep small circles of contacts. The benefit of having keys. The only downside was that the building didn’t have any air circulation outside of facilities management’s offices. Regarding the pandemic, our city still didn’t have any cases of community transmission. Two of us shooting the ball around became three, and soon we were playing 2-on-2. Dunkball was back, baby! Sans the titular Dunkball, which had gone missing, stolen by missionaries. I knew that it was only a matter of time before they got rid of the Academy chapel, so I was really motivated to play as much as we could while it was still safe. It took us a little bit before we managed to get six players out on the same day, and we still ended up playing 2’s some nights. We weren’t getting many guys out, but we always had good games. Everyone who came out hustled and was a solid atmosphere guy. We’d mostly play best-of-5 or 7 game series, maybe switching teams up for a final game or two. The series managed to stay pretty tight, with nobody ever reaching a dynasty. Facilities management leaves the building at 5:30, and, with nobody else around, our secret combination was free to schedule Dunkball whenever we pleased. We were playing twice some weeks. We were able to accommodate people’s schedule. Marvin, my favourite teammate, was able to come out. I hadn’t been able to play with him in years. A high percentage of our small group of players were relatively new to the game. It was really exciting to see them develop, even if Jason blocked me that one time. I had found my place again, having regained some of my leg strength and quickness. My core and upper-body strength, elusive at the best of times, had become memories, but I worked around that. My game is mostly designed with those absences in mind anyways. Consequently, my play became much more lateral, rather than vertical, after the 4th and, later, 5th game, as Collin noted. I also managed a new trick or two, like learning to bait people into banking their shot, and then blocking it off of the backboard for a quick turnover. My intensity was up, or at least the A/C was down. I was soaking through my shirts again, and I was happy. It was a hot and humid summer. I missed Jason’s birthday, so I brought some blackout chocolate banana bread to celebrate. As it turns out, a thick moist cake is not refreshing when you’re exhausted and sitting around in a hot and stuffy room you’ve spent the past 2-3 hours further heating up with yer friends. Collin became the MVP the following week when he brought a box of freezies with him. All my life, I had never seen their true worth or potential. I took them for granted in my youth, and turned my nose up at them as I grew older. Now I understood. I had Dunkball, I had friendly players who responded when I tried organizing things, we had freezies, and, as the Ward Clerk, I had convinced my Bishop that we should buy a new ball (despite the fact that playing at the Church was still verboten.) I was grateful, but I still longed for a day where we had more than 4-6 players, so that we could have subs between games. It’s nice to be able to switch up teams between games, rather than trying to push Arles all night. It’s even nicer to sit down every once in a while, especially after failing to push Arles around. Our province was still fairly safe, but that was beginning to change. Two regulars had at risk family members, and we began seeing community transmission. I planned to end what was to be the penultimate season of Dunkball after Labour Day. I was concerned what would happen once the school year started. Before then, we had eight* people come out to Dunkball one morning. Four pairs of family members, in fact. This gave us rotations between games, and a variety of playing styles, leading to more interesting match-ups and dynamics. Whoever loses would get to take a break; excitement was in the air! I questioned Collin’s choice of shoes. He reminded me that I’m solely responsible for their condition. I lend Collin my shoes. He likes the shoes, and I like his freezies. *the ideal amount is 8-9 people Shoot for teams: Graham, Collin, and I hit our shots. Collin has speed, Graham has range and strength, I have the height, and we all rebound. We win the first game easily, manage to survive the second, and win our third. Dynasty! Shoot for teams again, and I’m back on the floor with David and Marvin. David anchors the key, allowing me to cheat on defence, while Marvin generates offence and creates mismatches. We all defend. Three more wins, and it’s another dynasty! Marvin and I sit this time, and watch as Jacob (handles), Graham, and Jason (positioning) steal the game. Marvin and I go back on with Limhi, a guard heavy team playing an post-player’s game. They shoot and pass, drawing out the defence, while I set picks, prevent goaltending, and try to clean up on the boards. They cover the outside, while I guard the inside. When the other team goes to the inside, I make their post-player turn away from the net, where either Marvin or Limhi, cheating off of their man, are waiting to strip them of the ball. We win the first game, taking back the floor. They carry me through the second. Last game of the day, and the other team starts to fall apart. As per tradition, we extend the game, but only to to 15, because only Graham and I want to play to 21. We stumble as they regroup, but Jacob gets frustrated, and their chemistry falters. I assume that I’m to blame, become self-conscious, and begin calling fouls on myself whenever I make any contact with the other team. Of course, this happens on every play, because I’m trying to box out my brother. I get some weird looks as David sighs, he just wants it to be over. I get a clean stop, Limhi scores, and the day ends on a third dynasty. I remain undefeated. Freezies for everyone! That was the third to last time we played Dunkball. We had another night with six players, and ended the season with a morning of playing 2-on-2, after which we ran out of freezies. I was optimistic that we’d be back playing sometime in the New Year. We barely registered a first wave of the pandemic, but restrictions ended prematurely, and school started back up. Cases kept climbing. I was scared in October, but that was only the beginning. When we first started playing Dunkball that summer, our province was first in the country. By Christmas, we had become the worst. We began to curb the number of new cases, but restrictions were eased before hospitals finished dealing with the second wave. In May, we began transferring patients to other provinces. For some reason, the plan is to reopen in July. For some reason, a duo tried organizing ball in March. I declined. Our congregation was changing buildings, so Nik and I went over to grab some stuff. I found that our Dunkball had gone missing again, but I found the original Dunkball, which hasn’t held air since 2015, and brought it home. In April, facilities management began clearing out the Academy chapel, in anticipation of listing the building for sale. They didn’t inform our Bishop until later that week. He went over to pack anything worth keeping, only to have found that they had already junked everything belonging to our congregation, as well everything belonging to the Yazidi community group that had been meeting there prior to the pandemic. I don’t know the building’s current status. Nik and I kept our keys in the hopes of playing again, but it’s unlikely that things will be safe to go back to normal in time. Dunkball exists as a time and a place: Thursday nights after Institute class at Academy. Last fall, they moved institute classes over to the stake centre. The Academy building is being sold now, and Dunkball is over as we know it. As I previously mentioned, I lent Graham, the Gordie Howe of Dunkball, my Air Alert DVD and booklet back in 2010. For the past ten years now, he has meant to return it, only for it to slip his mind. I usually forget about it, myself, only for him to remind me when he apologizes. In the moment, I sorta feel guilty that he worries about it. I mean, it’s fine, I don’t need it. He’s put it on his desk, he’s placed it by the door, and though he’s either seen me or a member of my family at least once a week for the past decade, my copy of Air Alert still hasn’t made its way back to me. I’m not even sure that I want it back, but I appreciate his sincerity. It’s become tradition for him to maintain this false tension between us. At this point, I’d hate to see it go. What if this tension is what’s sustained our friendship throughout all these years? What if Graham’s only been coming out to Dunkball because he feels guilty? I won’t see him at Dunkball anymore, and, as of this week, he won’t be seeing me at church anymore. It’s things like this that keep us alive. I hope that Graham never returns my copy of Air Alert, but I hope that he always tries. ”There is no end to matter, There is no end to space, There is no end to Dunkball, There is no end to race.” - If You Could Hie to Kolob Dunkball, by W.W. Phelps.

I could have gone on about my legs, honestly. Now, I only included those formative texts that I’m willing to admit are still a part of me. I did not include those works whose influences I feel that I have repented of, which is why the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin footage of Bigfoot from Bluff Creek, California, The Weezer Video Capture Device, Newsies, The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, nor anything related to Dorm Life or MST3K are not included on my ballot. In any case, I’m sorry not to have found room for Johnny Guitar.

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steveharrington · 4 years

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Pls share any more headcanons you have about Steve's E.R.D. 🙃👉🏽👈🏽

this is all part of the steve harrington cinematic universe as built by me and @lesbianrobin

steve’s father’s name is james and his mother’s name is gloria like the sparks family from the lumineers album III

steve’s mother and father met in new yawk city da greatest city in da world when she was working in fashion and he was working in business, specifically accounting for big businesses. steve was an oops baby

they moved to hawkins when steve was like three because steve’s dad accepted a very profitable but vaguely described business type job that steve can’t even describe to other people because he 1. has never gotten a clear answer himself and 2. doesnt care. they also moved because it was the first time steve’s father cheated on his mother (that she knew of) so they left the city to Heal and Settle

when they moved to hawkins, it kinda wrecked his mom’s aspirations because hawkins is not a very fashionable scene plus she became kinda overwhelmed with distrust and needed to devote time to following him on his now frequent business trips in case he cheated again

steve doesnt really understand why his parents would leave new york for hawkins, especially his mother, because they were already making pretty good money. so whyd they do it?? ill tell you

because steve’s dad works for some smaller cog in the big machine that Is the lab! before he did accounting for businesses, but now he does it for the government entity that is the lab. it’s a boring desk job and it isnt even in the big scary building (otherwise he’d so be dead via demodog in s2 along with bob) but it handles the money and covers up the suspicious stuff. makes it look like normal government expenses instead of yknow big monster child torture chamber type stuff. money laundering basically

he travels a lot because in my mind hawkins lab is a prototype lab and there was supposed to be a bunch in other states. so he goes around offering up his shady services to other prospective labs and steve’s mom goes with him bc of infidelity

the thing is like. steve’s dad didnt wake up one day and decide like I Am Going To Help The Government Torture Children. rlly he woke up one day and said I Am Going To Make As Much Money As Possible And That’s All That Matters. he’s a look the other way guy. an im just doing my job type guy

its a pretty common hc that steve’s parents just aren’t around much. its not even that his father is particularly busy or that he Has to go out of town a lot--he really chooses to because hes pursuing as many opportunities to make money as possible!

going from new york to hawkins is kind of embarrassing to his father. even though he’s making good money and that justifies the move to him, he doesn’t want other people thinking he Failed in new york and had to come back to his hometown. so he flexes on them as much as possible! using his wife and steve to do so

its canon that steve’s mom is “super well respected” in hawkins which i take to mean she’s a socialite. she hosts parties and has a book club and is overall just a popular classy lady. steve grows up learning that the best thing you can be is: rich (which he’s already got by extension of being a dependent to rich parents) and at the top of the social ladder wherever you may find yourself, which in his case is school

so steve’s dad puts a lot of pressure on him to look good from the outside. obviously that means driving a nice car like em said and being respected by his peers and having some kind of identifying talent that he’s better than everyone else at, which for steve is basketball

but does he like......attend steves games?? talk to him about it??? no, because to him it’s not his son’s Passion or anything it’s just his Selected Field To Be Best At

steve’s rules are pretty lax. he can drink and smoke and stay out late as much as he wants, but he Cannot make himself look bad, because by extension it makes the family look bad.

all of this in my brain explains the steve we get in season one. he’s very touchy about the potential of being cheated on, he’s more devoted to remaining with peers he thinks will make him appear popular than to doing the right thing, he’s terrified of his dad potentially finding out that he’s semi involved with a police investigation, & he loves nancy wholeheartedly because, as joe put it, “she’s the first person who listens to him”

also i think it would be super neat if the show explored the more meaningful aspects of steve’s life being kinda extremely fucked up. not just like oh haha he cant get girls anymore but like.....he’s had several head injuries and he was dethroned at the sport that he was described to be best at. and if they were to add his entire life has been funded by the lab that’s now traumatized people he’s come to care about.....wow can you imagine the symbolic rebirth we could get from him saying fuck it and cutting ties!!!

#this is long i just have a lot to say!#anon #answered #st #Anonymous

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vinylexams · 5 years

Photo

A very special fireside interview with XUXA SANTAMARIA

Check Insta for our thoughts on this landmark album from Oakland duo XUXA SANTAMARIA. Stay right where you are to read a really fun interview I scored with the band this week. They’ve just released Chancletas D’Oro on Ratskin Records out of Oakland and Michael blessed me with my very own copy. It was so good I knew I needed to tell you all about it and I wanted to pick their brains a little bit, too. Without further ado, please enjoy:

//INTERVIEW

You’re still breaking into indie world at large, but you’ve already got a huge following back in California and your home-base in Oakland. What has it been like to be featured in major outlets like The Fader?

SC: We are a funny project; we ebb and flow from being total hermits to having periods of relatively high visibility (relative to aforementioned hermit state). I wouldn’t say we have a huuuge following in CA but I do think that the ‘fandom’ we’ve developed here is really genuine because we don’t play shows out of an obligation to remain visible but instead do so because we feel super passionate about the work and the audience and I think people respond to that energy. I for one, and perhaps this is because of my background in performance, have a hard time performing the same stuff over and over without change which accounts for us being selective with our playing live. That’s also why videos are such an important part of what we’re about. The piece in The Fader was important to the launch of this album because it established some of the themes and, to an extent, the aesthetics of this album in a way that can be experienced outside of a live setting. None of this is to say we don’t like playing live, in fact we love it, we just like to make our sets pleasurable to ourselves and to our audience by constantly reworking it. We strike a weird balance for sure but we’ve made peace with it. If we ever ‘make it’ (lol) it’ll be on these terms.

Chancletas D'Oro is a pretty incredible record and while it reminds me of a few bands here or there, it’s got a really fresh and unique style that merges dance with all sorts of flavors. How would you describe your music to someone who is curious to listen?

MGK: Haha, we generally struggle to describe our music in a short, neat way (not because we make some kind of impossible-to-categorize music, but just because it’s the synthesis of a ton of different influences and it’s hard for US to perceive clearly). But with that caveat in mind - IDK, bilingual art-punk influenced dance/electronic music?

SC: Thank you for saying so, we’re pretty into it :) Like Matt says, we struggle to pin it down which I think is in part to what he says – our particular taste being all over the place, from Drexciya to The Kinks to Hector Lavoe- but I think this slipperiness has a relationship to our concept making and world building. As creative people we make and intake culture like sharks, always moving, never staying in one place too long. Maybe it’s because we’re both so severely ADHD (a boon in this instance tbh) that we don’t sit still in terms of what we consume and I think naturally that results in an output that is similarly traveling. Point is, the instance a set of words - ‘electronic’, ‘dance’, ‘punk’- feel right for the music is the same instance they are not sufficient. I propose something like: the sound of a rainforest on the edge of a city, breathy but bombastic, music made by machines to dance to, pleasurably, while also feeling some of the sensual pathos of late capitalism as seen from the bottom of the hill.

The internet tells me you’ve been making music as Xuxa Santamaria for a decade now. What has the evolution and development of your songwriting been like over those ten years?

MGK: Well, when we first started out as a band we were so new to making electronic music (Sofia’s background was in the art world and mine was in more guitar-based ‘indie rock’ I guess - lots of smoking weed and making 4 track tapes haha), so we legit forgot to put bass parts on like half the songs on our first album LOL. We’ve learned a lot since then! But in seriousness, we’ve definitely gotten better at bouncing ideas back and forth, at putting in a ton of different parts and then pulling stuff back, and the process is really dynamic and entertaining for both of us.

SC: This project started out somewhat unusually: I was in graduate school and beginning what would become a performance practice. I had hit a creative roadblock working with photography - the medium I was in school to develop- and after reading Frank Kogan’s Real Punks Don’t Wear Black felt this urge to make music as a document of experience following Kogan’s excellent essay on how punk and disco served as spatial receptacles for a wealth of experiences not present in the mainstream of the time. I extrapolated from this notion the idea that popular dance genres like Salsa, early Hip Hop, and Latin Freestyle among many others, had served a similar purpose for protagonists of a myriad Caribbean diasporas. These genres in turn served as sonic spaces to record, even if indirectly, the lived experiences of the coming and going from one’s native island to the mainland US wherein new colonial identities are placed upon you. From this I decided to create an alter ego (ChuCha Santamaria, where our band name originally stems from) to narrate a fantastical version of the history of Puerto Rico post 1492 via dance music. We had absolutely no idea what we were doing but I look back on that album (ChuCha Santamaria y Usted - on vinyl from Young Cubs Records) fondly. It’s rough and strange and we’ve come so far from that sound but it’s a key part of our trajectory. Though my songwriting has evolved to move beyond the subjective scope of this first album - I want to be more inclusive of other marginalized spaces- , it was key that we cut our teeth making it. We are proud to be in the grand tradition of making an album with limited resources and no experience :P

We’re a big community of vinyl enthusiasts and record collectors so first and foremost, thanks for making this available on vinyl. What does the vinyl medium mean to you as individuals and/or as a band?

MGK: I think for us, it’s the combination of the following: A. The experience of listening in a more considered way, a side at a time. B. Tons of real estate for graphics and design and details. C. The sound, duh!

SC: In addition to Matt’s list, I would just say that I approach making an album that will exist in record form as though we were honing a talisman. Its objecthood is very important. It contains a lot of possibility and energy meant to zap you the moment you see it/ hold it. I imagine the encounter with it as having a sequence: first, the graphics - given ample space unlike any other musical medium/substrate- begin to tell a story, vaguely at first. Then, the experience of the music being segmented into Side A and Side B dictate a use of time that is impervious to - at the risk of sounding like an oldie - our contemporary habit of hitting ‘shuffle’ or ‘skip’. Sequencing is thus super important to us (this album has very distinct dynamics at play between sides a/b ). We rarely work outside of a concept so while I take no issue with the current mode of music dissemination, that of prioritizing singles, it doesn’t really work for how we write music.

MGK: We definitely both remain in love with the ‘album as art object/cohesive work’ ideal, so I would say definitely - we care a lot about track sequencing, always think in terms of “Side A/Side B” (each one should be a distinct experience), and details like album art/inserts/LP labels etc matter a lot to us.

What records or albums were most important to you growing up? Which ones do you feel influenced your music the most?

SC: I know they’re canceled cus of that one guy but I listened to Ace of Base’s The Sign a lot as a kid and I think that sorta stuff has a way of sticking with you. I always point to the slippery role language plays in them being a Swedish band singing in English being consumed by a not-yet-English speaking Sofía in Puerto Rico in the mid 90s. Other influences from childhood include Garbage, Spice Girls, Brandy + Monica’s The Boy is Mine, Aaliyah, Gloria Trevi, Olga Tañon etc etc. In terms of who influences me now, that’s a moving target but I’d say for this album I thought a lot about the sound and style of Kate Bush, Technotronic, Black Box, Steely Dan, ‘Ray of Light’-era Madonna plus a million things I’m forgetting.

MGK: Idk, probably a mix of 70-80s art rock/punk/postpunk (Stooges, Roxy Music, John Cale, Eno, Kate Bush, Talking Heads, Wire, Buzzcocks, etc etc), disco/post-disco R&B and dance music (Prince, George Clinton, Chic, Kid Creole), 90s pop + R&B + hip hop (Missy & Timbaland, Outkast/Dungeon Family production-wise are obviously awe-inspiring, So So Def comps, Jock Jams comps, Garbage & Hole & Massive Attack & so on), and unloved pop trash of all eras and styles.

Do you have any “white whale” records that you’ve yet to find?

MGK: Ha - the truth is that we’re both much more of a “what weird shit that we’ve never heard of can we find in the bargain bin” type of record buyer than “I have a custom list of $50 plus records on my discogs account that I lust over”.

SC: Not really, I’m wary of collectorship. That sort of ownership might have an appeal in the hunt, once you have it do you really use it, enjoy it? Funnily, I have a massive collection of salsa records that has entries a lot of music nerds would cry over (though they’re far from good condition, the spines were destroyed by my Abuela’s cat, Misita lol, but some are first pressings in small runs). For me its value however, comes from its link to family, as documents from another time and as an amazing capsule of some of the best music out of the Caribbean. I’m glad I am their guardian (a lot of this stuff is hard to find elsewhere, even digitally) but I live with those records, they’re not hidden away in archival sleeves, in fact, I use some of that music in my other work. Other than that, the records I covet are either those of friends or copies of albums that hold significance but which are likely readily available, Kate Bush’s The Dreaming or Love’s Forever Changes, or The Byrds Sweetheart of The Rodeo as random examples

Finally, is there a piece of interesting band trivia you’ve never shared in another interview?

SC: haha, not really? Maybe that we just had a baby together?

Congrats on your new baby, and also for this wonderful new album. It was a pleasure chatting with you and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you and your music!

#xuxasantamaria #interview #oakland #music #electronic #electronicmusic #ratskin #ratskinrecords

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luiletulip · 5 years

Text

Little Women.

I’ve always wondered what my purpose in life is.

What does it have to do with the things I like? Are we born into this world equipped with passion, interest, talents to fulfill our purpose? Or are we simply lying to ourselves, thinking we might actually have meaning to live?

Faith tells me it’s the first option, but most times my darker side whispers and believes it’s the latter.

I rewatched Little Women last night. I’ve always been fond of the book, as well as the 1994 movie starring Winona Ryder. However, the one I watched last night was the modernized version that premiered last year in 2018.

I’m surprised at just how many Little Women movies there are, seeing that they’re going to be releasing another one this December, and well, where was I going with this? I had a story to tell.

Ah yes.

Little Women.

Out of the four March sisters, Beth has always been my favorite.

Growing up I didn’t really have a specific reason as to why I find her the best sister other than, “She’s so kind, so gentle,” (as I would tell my mama). My mama was more of a Jo fan, she says she sees herself in Jo March one way or another.

This got little Luika thinking, “Which March sister am I most similar to?”

Obviously, it wouldn’t be Beth, no matter how much I hoped I would be. She was basically an angel, and I am not that kind, patient, supportive sister I wish to be if I’m being honest.

I’ve always thought that if Beth was out of the options, then perhaps the best choice would be Meg?

I tried identifying with her in my teenage years in a sense that I too wanted a family, I too wanted to fit in, I too wanted to live a simple life. I wanted to value tradition, home, and everything else that would fit perfectly in our society.

Only to later find out (as I matured and grow and heal) that I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to live a life like Meg’s.

There’s nothing wrong with it, obviously. It’s a beautiful dream to have a family. It’s a wonderful thing to fit in and be accepted. It’s all good, all valid. I used to think it was all I’ve ever needed and wanted as well, which is why I sided with Meg all those years every time I watched the scene where Jo confronted her about her life choices.

In a way, I still do, the way Jo forced her opinions and values on her sister wasn’t the right thing, but I’ll admit that now I somehow do understand where Jo is coming from.

Could it be because I feel the same way?

I’m a dreamer. There’s no one in my life (if they know me really well) who would say otherwise. I’ve always been, and most probably always be a dreamer.

When I was in the ninth grade, I’ve mapped out my life in the happiest, “quirkiest” way I wished to live. Owning a beautiful house by the beach? Happily married to the love of my life? Living lavishly off my art and writing? Having adorable twins at the age of 26?

Now that I’ve reached 26 years of age, all I could say to myself was, “Dude for real, what were you thinking.”

In short, I felt like current me was in a way criticizing ninth grade me the way Jo did to Meg. But there’s nothing wrong with Meg’s dream (or mine back in ninth grade)! Nothing wrong at all. It just wasn’t my dream, at least not anymore.

The more I grow (mentally and spiritually as well as physically) the more I start to accept myself; my flaws, my thoughts, my feelings, my struggles, my strengths, my faith, and the more I start to become myself.

See, I have this tendency to please people. I’m a people pleaser. It’s not even about making people like me, it’s more about having people not disappointed in me.

As good as this tendency might be in certain times (like when it motivates me to do better in everything I do or putting others first in decisions always) it is just as toxic when I have no control over it.

And so I do believe that ninth grade me, trying so hard to fit in and conform into what my friends, family, and society wants me to be, buried my bigger dreams, because younger me back then had huge plans of saving the world. Literally.

There was a shift in my heart, and even if it sounds fake, I really do still remember the feeling.

As a child, I was imaginative, sensitive, and already overthinking things. You can most definitely confirm this with my mama who noticed this first.

She told me I’ve always been a future-oriented kid, telling her, “When I grow up… Later in the future… A few years from now… Once I’m able to… Older me would…” and all those kinds of talks.

My mama, a person who also loves to talk about the future, saw a little bit of herself in me, but she added, “You were already so idealistic about things. You were a kid. You didn’t need to be, but you were.”

I suppose she referred to where I started talking about changing the world for the better and saving people at a young age.

Not here to praise my “idealistic” and “unique” personality as a child (because I know I’m not alone, there are so many children out there who think this way) but to show that I was born with this kind of personality.

I grew to be an idealist, a dreamer.

Back to discussing the shift in heart and burying my “bigger” dreams.

I thought I just “grew out of it” and began to accept reality, when in truth, I was just adapting and changing myself, accommodating to society.

The need and want to fit in was so strong in me that I remember getting nervous every time my school would make us take personality tests. I tried so hard to score a Sanguine, a type I believed to be popular and well-liked.

But as I was taking the test, halfway through I realized that I can’t lie to myself. This isn’t who I was. I’m not the energetic and sociable Sanguine I wanted to be. Nor am I the strong and confident Choleric I wish I was. I stopped halfway and decided to just be honest. I got an invalid result.

Curious me began to learn more about these personality-related things, and it took me a couple of years to finally settle and accept myself as a Melancholic-Phlegmatic.

Not the most exciting type or combination, I guess, but it’s me.

Now that we’ve established that about my personality, I’ll bring this back to Little Women.

Jo March. I’m not much like her. I’m not assertive, not as brave to speak up my mind, and not confident in myself as she is. I am, however, as passionate and as idealistic as this character . . . and I find myself relating to her a little more than ever.

I came to understand that it’s okay for me to dream big, to feel like I have a different purpose, a different path than what the general public does. It doesn’t make me “special” or “weird” or “unique”. It just makes me, me.

Studying MBTI and personality traits (some psychology in general too) helped me see that no one is the same in any way. Alike, maybe, but never the exact same.

Everyone is different.

Everyone has their own character, their own dreams, goals, struggles, pain, strengths, weaknesses, stories, motives, nature, nurture . . . I can go on and on.

The point is that I think no one should change to fit in. Because sure, we’ll fit in in some cases, but are we ever truly who we are?

My friends who are in the MBTI community online (yes, there is such a thing) have this “joke” where we say, “We live in an extroverted world, where everything is trusted in senses.”

Basically, if you’re an introverted intuitive, you’re screwed. Great.

Some might embrace the weirdness, having a sense of pride being “different” and “unique” and “special”, some others (like me) feel burdened.

Feeling like you don’t truly belong to any social group or even in this world isn’t a pleasant feeling for me personally. Having to shift and change and morph into someone different other than my true self is uncomfortable.

I’m not saying I change a good 180, but I’ll admit I tweak my actions and behavior here and there to adapt to the person I’m with. I’m only ever truly myself when I’m alone. That shouldn’t be the case. My people-pleasing tendency gets the best of me most times.

You shouldn’t change your personality to fit in. Not saying change is bad, in fact, change is very good depending on what your motive is.

So I guess what I’m saying is that if there is change, it shouldn’t be for society, it would be best to change for the better. The better version of ourselves. For ourselves.

Changing for the better is also known as growth, healing.

I’m really trying to do this, taking it one day at a time, finding my purpose in life. Which is it again? Wait, I’m back to square one with the whole life purpose and all.

I guess to summarize:

I feel like I’ve gotten to know myself better through learning about personalities, I’ve accepted the way I am and now learning to better myself to fulfill my life purpose, in which I have always thought to be something else.

I feel like I’m not made to walk down the road most people go, not in the pace society sets for me, but that’s the thing: I shouldn’t.

I should go in the pace God set for me, fulfilling the purpose He has for me, and being my true self that He has created me to be.

Sigh.

This post isn’t even about Little Women anymore. It’s a great book, please read it if you haven’t.

Anyway, yes.

This is just a little rambling, a little journaling for me to sort out some of my thoughts. It may not reach anyone, but I’m glad I did it. I’d love for it to be some sort of help or comfort to anyone reading this, but most importantly it was to me. Healing, growing, taking it one step at a time.

(This post is a mess, but so am I haha)

Lord, let me live my life the way You want it to be. Use me and my life for Your good. Help me change the world even by the littlest things. Amen. Soli Deo Gloria!

See you sometime, maybe. Here’s to all the dreamers. All the love.

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madpanda75 · 6 years

Text

“Roadtrip with Rafael: Part One”

Ok, I had this idea in my head for ages and it took me forever to get it done (writer’s block is a bitch!) I hope you all like it!

Part Two

Epilogue

Thanks for all the likes, reblogs, and comments! I read them all and they make my day! 😊

Tags: @amirightcounsellor, @obfuscateyummy, @sweetsummertime99, @lyssa1385, @letty-o and if anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know ❤️

Rafael stood outside the precinct, tapping his foot impatiently and checking his watch every few minutes. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed your number for the 5th time that morning.

You heard your phone buzz in your pocket. “Must be Barba.” You thought to yourself. Speeding down the road, you glanced at the clock, it was 6:45 am. Both of you were on your way to Buffalo, New York for an assignment and you were late picking him up.

A week ago, your squad had arrested a serial rapist and murderer, James Cleary. Cleary had terrorized the city for a month, raping and murdering 5 young college girls. There were also several other cold cases which you believed were linked to him. During an interrogation, he had let it slip that his killing spree had begun in Buffalo with his old army buddy, Michael Shaw. Shaw had already been arrested for theft and murder in upstate New York, your lieutenant had arranged for a meeting with him in the hopes he would provide information on Cleary and his victims. Rafael had made an agreement with the DA in Buffalo, Shaw would get a deal in exchange for his testimony against Cleary.

Rafael turned his head and held his arms up in exasperation upon seeing you pull up to the front of the precinct. “You’re 45 minutes late, Y/N!” The ADA exclaimed as he got in the car. “We have a scheduled appointment with Shaw at 2:30! It’s a 7 hour drive upstate. What if we miss it?”

You rubbed your temples, it was too early in the morning to hear Barba barking in your ear. “Calm your tits, Barba! I’m sorry, I set my alarm for “PM” instead of “AM.” Besides, the way I drive...we’ll be there with time to spare.” You said pulling back onto the street and speeding down the block.

“Great...as long we make it there in one piece.” Rafael grumbled. You reached down into the car console and handed him the extra coffee and breakfast burrito you brought him. “Just relax, Rafael. Have some coffee, eat some breakfast and we’ll be there before you know it.” He graciously accepted both, “Thanks,” he replied.

When you first found out that you would be accompanying Rafael to Buffalo, you were less than thrilled. This was your first big assignment and you wanted to do a great job without any distractions or fighting. You and Rafael always seemed to be butting heads. Your first time meeting the ADA, he had mistaken you for an intern and tried to shoo you out of his office. A year later and you both still pushed each other’s buttons, but as much as you bickered with Rafael, even you had to admit that the two of you did make a great team. You both brought out the best in each other, always pushing the other to be better, get more evidence, find a new way to prosecute a case.

Underneath the arguing, there was also an undeniable sexual chemistry between you two. He may have been an ass, but Rafael was incredibly sexy, many times you would watch as he confidently strutted into the bullpen. His seductive green eyes, lustrous hair and that ass that reminded you of two scoops of butter pecan ice cream, you didn’t know if you wanted to fight him or grab him by the lapels and kiss him hard. For awhile, you thought your lusting after Rafael was completely one sided but there were moments when you would catch him staring at you. As soon as your eyes would meet, he would adjust his tie and clear his throat, a flush creeping up on his face, which made you think perhaps this lust filled infatuation was mutual.

On your way over to the precinct this morning, you made a pact with your head and your heart. You would try to be more open to Rafael’s side, especially when it came to this case and squash any burning desire you had to ride his thick Cuban cock into the sunset. “Open mind, closed legs” was your mantra for the trip. Of course being inches away from Rafael, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne, was making the closed legs portion of your promise incredibly difficult to uphold.

You stopped at a red light and turned to face the ADA, “Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye on certain things, but I want to try to work together and not argue so much. Let’s just have a good trip and nail this bastard.”

Rafael smirked and nodded his head, “I agree.” You smiled and waited for the light to turn.

While you were focusing on the road, Rafael looked over at you, studying your profile. He thought you were an amazing detective, which is why he would push you as much as he did. He also liked that you gave as much as you got. Although you and him always seemed to disagree, there was something more between you two, bubbling beneath the surface. Often Rafael would find himself stealing glances of you, taking in your large eyes, shapely mouth, the way your hair framed your face, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Over the months, his desire for you grew stronger. While laying in bed, he would think about what it would be like to kiss you, to taste you, to feel your legs wrapped around him while you moaned his name. Sometimes, he would catch you out of the corner of his eye, staring at him, blushing and biting your bottom lip, only causing blood to pump further south to his shaft.

“You’re awfully quiet, counselor.” You casually said waking Rafael from his reverie. “Do you want to listen to some music? If I have to drive for 7 hours in silence, I’ll go crazy.” You handed your phone over to the ADA. Rafael looked through your playlists, amazed at your collection. “Oh my God, Y/N. How can you have so music! You really listen to all of this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I love music, how it makes you feel, the significance behind songs, the artistry. It’s really beautiful. I can go from listening to Spice Girls in the morning, by lunchtime I’ll switch over to Hole or some Fleetwood Mac and end the day with Childish Gambino or Leon Bridges. It’s amazing how in one day, your mood can just change all through music. It can make you happy or sad, it’s like….art in motion, people baring their souls in just a few short minutes of a song. Nietzsche said, “without music, life would be a mistake.”

Rafael looked at you amazed, he had no idea how passionate you were about music. “So do you always make your passengers the DJ and quote German philosophers?” You giggled, blushing a little. Rafael deciding it was the cutest thing he had ever heard. “German philosophers no, but I always let my driving partner pick the music and the squad loves it. Fin plays 90s hip hop, we listen to Wu-Tang Clan while we debate about who shot Tupac and Biggie Smalls. Sonny and I rock out to The Ramones and The Clash. Amanda has opened me up to country music and we both love Old Crow Medicine Show. Mike is all about the Bruce Springsteen and Billy Joel.”

“What about Olivia?” He asked. You looked over at Rafael. “Promise not to tell?”

“Of course,” he replied with a smirk. You let out a breath, “Olivia loves disco.” Rafael began to laugh upon hearing the guilty pleasure of his good friend. “You’re lying, Y/N.”

“Would I lie to you? I promise, she is a major disco queen. We listen to Abba, Gloria Gaynor, Donna Summer, the Bee Gees, everything.”

“Olivia Benson….disco queen.” Rafael mumbled as he looked through your playlist, finding his choice. “Ok, Y/N. You ready for my song choice.”

You playfully purred, “Mmmmm do your worst, Rafael.” He smirked at you and pressed play, suddenly the car was filled with the opening song to Hamilton. You smiled, surprised at his choice. “I never took you for a Hamilton fan, counselor.”

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, detective.” Rafael replied. “Well we have 7 hours, tell me everything.” You playfully demanded.

The two of you rocked out to Hamilton, even singing a few songs together, when the soundtrack finished, there was still 5 hours left of your road trip. The two of you passed the time talking about everything, your childhoods, likes, dislikes, your passions. By the time you reached Buffalo, you both had a new found appreciation for each other, you really enjoyed talking to the ADA. The conversation felt comfortable, it was almost as if the walls Rafael had built up over the years were starting to break down and you were just now getting to know him for the first time.

The two of you made it to Buffalo Correctional Facility with 20 minutes to spare. Sitting next to the ADA, you both waited for Michael Shaw to come out of his cell.You jostled your leg, starting to feel nervous, you really were hoping Shaw could give you the information you needed. You felt Rafael’s hand on your shaking leg, his fingertips radiating warmth, “Hey, Y/N. It’s going to be ok.” You gifted him a small smile, while he gave your leg one last squeeze. Finally a buzzer rang and in walked Michael Shaw.

Shaw licked his lips and looked you over, his gaze made your skin crawl, but you pulled your shoulders back and sat up straight. “Wow, if I had known that someone as beautiful as you was coming to talk to me, I would have combed my hair or something. Mmmm I bet you get all the guys going where you work, darling.” Shaw said before looking over at Rafael and winking.

The ADA clenched his jaw. You were gorgeous and he was used to seeing men at the precinct stare at you, even some of the perps would make crude comments to you, but something in Shaw’s mannerism was making Rafael feel uneasy. He felt a deeply rooted urge to protect you from Shaw.

“We’re not talking about myself, Mr.Shaw. Let’s talk about your friend, James Cleary, remember him?” You asked the inmate.

Shaw looked up, as if the answer to your question was in the air. “James Cleary….sounds familiar. Maybe?” Rafael slid a file across the table to Shaw containing James’ photo along with photos of the missing girls, “Perhaps this will refresh your memory.”

The inmate looked over the pictures while you began to talk. “You tell us what you know about Cleary and any of these missing girls and there may be something in this for you.”

“Quid pro quo, Mr. Shaw. With the information you provide, we may be able to strike a deal and lessen your prison sentence.” Rafael said. Shaw mused over the files before looking up at you, “These girls don’t hold a candle to you, gorgeous. Too bad we didn’t meet a few years ago before I ended up here. I would have rocked your world, baby doll.”

You kept your poker face, when deep down you wanted to throw up at Shaw’s insinuation. “You couldn’t handle me, honey.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Shaw said as he licked his lips. Rafael clenched his fists to keep from beating the man up, “Do we have a deal or not, Mr. Shaw?” He barked at the inmate.

Shaw leaned forward and looked directly at him. “That depends, is she part of the deal? I get a little conjugal time with your pretty little detective here?” He replied motioning towards you. Rafael stood up and banged his fists on the table with such force, you jumped. “That’s enough, Mr. Shaw. Either you tell us about James Cleary and these girls or you rot here in your cell.” He growled at the inmate. You had never seen Rafael this angry and defensive, he stared at Shaw not backing down.

The inmate looked at the two of you for a moment and laughed. “Relax, I was just messing around. Sit down counselor and I’ll tell you all about Mr. Cleary, provided the deal is still on the table.”

Rafael sat down and looked over at you with a hint of a smirk. “Start talking Mr. Shaw.” You said to the inmate.

After Rafael threatened to take away the deal, Michael Shaw was more than willing to spill the beans on his friend and you were able to identify two more of his victims. You left on a high, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. “Well I don’t know about you, Barba, but I could use a drink and a steak. Want to check into our hotel and then grab some food maybe.”

Rafael was grateful it was beginning to get dark to conceal the flush he was getting on his cheeks. It’s not like you two hadn’t had causal drinks with the rest of the squad before, but now it was just the two of you alone. After everything that had happened today, it felt different. Not wanting to seem overeager, Rafael maintained his composure, “That sounds great, Y/N.”

The two of you got in the car to head towards the hotel. Before you put the key in the ignition, you squeezed the ADA’s shoulder, “I meant to say earlier….thank you for defending me back there with Shaw. He was a real creep and I really appreciated you having my back.” You placed your hand in his own, Rafael looked down, it looked so small compared to his larger paw. He smiled back at you and gently squeezed your hand, “You’re welcome.” The two of you kept each other’s gaze for a few moments. Rafael’s eyes moved down to your lips, desperately wanting to just reach out and kiss you. You blushed and pulled your hand back, starting the car.

“So Y/N, where would you like to go for dinner.” Rafael asked, hoping the topic would help to dissipate the sexual tension. “Well I did a bit of research on this area and I think I know the perfect spot. You up for a little fun, counselor?” You said with a mischievous smile. Your flirty comments sent a tingle straight to Rafael’s groin, “Lead the way detective.” You pulled out of the parking spot and headed towards the hotel, excited for your evening with Rafael.

#rafael barba #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #barba fic #barba imagine #barba x reader #law and order svu imagine #law and order svu fic

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survivenovascotia · 4 years

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Episode 1 - I have no idea what I'm doing. - Eric

Everyone’s pretty active. Certain people know each other and I’m pretty much a newborn deer in the ORG community. Chrissa says “I’ve added pretty much everyone” as a contact but didn’t add me. So then I added a few people and no response or people added me back. Like my god I could go home for being a newbie. No hun.

I have no idea what I'm doing. It's honestly been so long I'm just trying to talk to everybody and get to know them. I don't remember when the time to start alliances are and other things and it's a whole mess but we are working with it!!

Russell deserves all the wins

So I think Austin and I may have started an alliance. He seems pretty nice and I believe that he wants to be loyal especially since it's only be 2 hours since the game started. I'm hoping tomorrow us two can find some other people to make a larger alliance. I get good vibes from Heather and Chips specifically. Chips I knew before I left the community a while back, and I know he has a lot of passion for ORGs which I think is very valuable in an ally. I also really like Heather because we are very similar people. We are both starting college, both just returned to ORGs. It just kind of felt meant to be. Obviously I have to listen to who Austin likes too. I think when I played orgs in the past, my errors were both not making the alliances soon enough, and also trying to control them. If I want to win, I have to play differently.

Im BACK. Imma make this quick. Welcome to Cast First Night Impression Vibes Coco~ Havent Spoken to him too much yet since it was 4AM when things came out for him. Seems sweet. Says he played on tengaged and zwooper. Stephen~ We played in the past. I think 2 games, one where I was completely against him and one where I tried to be on his side then everyone voted him out early. I think both were atomic games. He messaged me right away since he knew I took a long boi break which was nice. Gotta talk to him a bit more. Austin~ Seems pretty chill, we had convo about horror stuff and atm talking about Winners at War (I'm not gonna spoil anything. Don't yall worry) I can definitely see potentially working with him. Livingston~ Talked for a little bit. Shared a little bit of theatre stuff with each other since he does a lot of tech for his school where as I do onstage and offstage things. There is potential. Dylan~ We talked a bit. Im vibing. I hope he is too. talked more music tastes and all. POTENTIAL Eric~ Eric and I are one. We were talking and realized we are the same person and are the voices in each others head. I definitely want to work with him the most out of anyone so far. Splat/Evan~ Pretty chill tried talking to him. I feel a connection but like not like the biggest. I think things could definitely look up in the future tho Chips~ CHIIIIIIIPS. I love Chips. I didn't talk to him as much as I should have my previous game with him like 2 YEARS AGO. We talked a lot today and I think this game I can possibly work with him. Glo~ We played a big brother org together toward the beginning of my break, which was a rough time in my life and why I stick to survivor games. She messaged me and I messaged back, but I have yet to get another message from her yet. We will see in the morning. FOR IDOL SEARCHES: I checked an I am gonna write down the paths I take. I got a deadend this time.

GLO GLO is spilling the tea . I have only done live chat with DYLAN so far but OMG we connected and he reminded me of two players I loved and do to this day one for over 10 year the other for 5 years who are close to me to this day. Me and Dylan connected talked about life game laughed shared stories and somehow FINAL 2 has evolved and I am super happy about this.

Ok this is the most social I’ve ever been at the start of a game I called Gloria since we’re both I Love Money alumni & we hella bonded ??????? She’s so sweet 🥰🥺🥰🥺 we literally talked for two full hours on cast reveal day, wow. I would love to work with her far into this game, maybe even to the end 🤭 if we could do that Stephen is cool, I’d like to work with him. He’s loyal & smart & good at challenges so ✌🏻 Eric & I had a very interesting dynamic in middle earth, but I think we were able to smooth over that together Evan also seems really cool, I just met him but we’ve already switched friend codes so it’s getting pretty serious also glo was like ‘You better not betray me for a man you have a crush on’ and I was like uhhh I’m emotionally unavailable don’t worry glo you’re safe

I feel less stressed atm. Chatted to a couple people. Nothing major, no alliances made (or if add production to it). I hope I can continue manoeuvre my way to find a footing in this alliance otherwise I’ll be the first boot and be annoyed at myself. Just worried about past connections and my no connections.

Heyyy, first confessional of the season!! So the tribe seems pretty chill, no one i hate, a few i know. Dylan and Heather might be an issue if they hold grudges? But i doubt it. What I’m really looking for healre is a solid group of 4, I could see chips and heather being a part of that as they arent goats, but who knows. The idea is to group with people who will play and take the heat off me, instead of goats who might gang up on me at end game

Personally coming into this game as a new player, one of my biggest concerns were past relationships. So I talked with my secret alliance member Choo about who he has played with in the past, and he mentions Austin. After doing that, I ask Austin who he has played with in the past, and he tells me that he has never played with anyone before. Immediately I knew he was bullsh*tting. However, I really need to keep my mouth shut that Austin lied about this to me, but when the time comes, I'll be sure to expose his ass.

My strategy in this game is to create as many options for me to take as possible to get to the end. The way I'm doing that is by playing the "clueless 16 year old" card so that people see me as naive, when in reality, I'm probably just as ready to backstab, lie, cheat, steal just as much as any of these people are, if not more. So far it seems to be working and I sense that a lot of people feel as though they can trust me. But I will take the option that best suits me.

Immediately I was able to create a secret alliance with Coco, due to a mutual friend, being Evanw919. Evan is one of my best friends irl and was actually the person that introduced me to this game. After talking to Coco a lot, I feel as though he is someone I can trust, and I do intend to go as far as I can with him... unless it's in my best interest to take him out if necessary. I may intend on trusting him, but I don't intend to let friendships impact my decision making.

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First day went great I feel ! Everyone is super nice so far and I hope we can win a few challenges together. COCO IS HERE! I love coco and hope we can go far together already . I have trusted him before and it turned out really good for me. Glo is a sweetheart and gotta love her. Livingston is nice and so is chips tho I feel they may need to go down the road. Stephen and me have talked a lil in the community so I feel I can maybe trust him . I'm excited and nervous to be playing again but ready to go !

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I like this cast and like the people on my tribe i hope they are not too annoyed hearing about my internet but they have to know what they might be dealing with obviously it only happens at certain times depending how many people are on the internet with rogers, so if i get voted out cause of it i won't be mad, but also i am hoping for a lockdown end sooner than later so we can switch providers. as John Coffey said it's a very bad time to be having these internet problems.

Okay! The season is officially on! Not much to report about yet but I want to make a confessional right now just in case I forget to do it later. Gotta avoid those strikes! So far all I know about my tribe is that John Coffey and I briefly played together in a previous game, though we weren’t ever on the same tribe, and Chrissa and I played together at some point though I can’t remember anything about when we did. I’m looking forward to the challenge and I hope we can crush it!

I have managed to talk to everyone on my tribe and I definitely feel good vibes from most apart from maybe Livingston who doesn't really seem interested in talking to me. What is interesting that Evan asked me if I had known anyone from previous game(s) and I told him I knew Austin and Livingston BUT Austin told him that he knew NONE. So now Evan doesn't trust him but trusts me. I really like Evan,Eric, Heather, Austin and also Glo and Dylan. I'd like to work with them but mostly with Evan, Eric, Heather and Austin.

Right now what I'm trying to do is to get these people caught in a lie, but I intend to save the lie to expose them when the time is right. People say one of the worst mistakes you can make in survivor is playing too hard too fast. However, playing hard quickly can be gotten away with if you are sneaky about it and don't get caught. I'm trying to get these people to think I'm incompetent as they aren't even aware they are being manipulated

2ND Confessional OK so far my 2 favorites I have talked to are Dylan and if the truth is being told we are in 2 man alliance. @nd I have messaged with most is CoCo real name David. He said he is knew to orgs and is afraid of alliances happening which probably is true. Dylan and I both like CoCo so we are bring him in as our 3rd hopeful in a possible alliance. CoCo actually said he wanted to work with me so hopefully I have him and Dylan watching my back as I will them if they stay loyal but if they run their mouth goodbye quick if needed. So far I am happy with these two and have no idea what other two I hope to round up. Both Dylan and I agree about getting CoCo with us and hope it don't backfire with a new player to orgs.

I’ve chatted to Kevin and acted like I’m paranoid (I am a wee bit but I’m definitely adding spice) and he’s like “If I hear your name I’ll let you know” which is what I’m looking for. If I can play a ditzy “I’m just happy to be here!” act I think it’ll make the more strategic players come to me and make them act like I’m a pawn in their chess game. (I have good episode title material Yass). Also I’m gay.

I love music video challenges, but everyone seems to not like them so I am a bit nervous. I got closer to Coco and I love him!! I definitely wanna work with him and he said he feels comfortable with me Austin and Eric, which same so I right now feel good but its only been a day. I hope we get a good score, although we already know one person who would prefer to not be in it oof.

The idol hunt, love the idea. Me and Darcy are working together and telling each other where we went. My first way was a flop, not helpful. Darcy’s first route was T2, R, L, R, R and went out and my first route was shorter. I think if we keep going this way we’ll get to the idol soon. I told Darcy to go T2, R, L, R, L, L as I think that will bring us closer.

They voted Call Me Maybe. I want to die but I want to win more so HEY I JUST MET YOU

Have I confessed too much in the past few hours? Nah. So Coco and I are planning to work together and we seem to be on the same wavelength and he seems to trust me. He shared about his idol hunt and I think we are gonna try and map out together different tunnels. I mentioned how I dont think anyone would have the idol yet, but I could be wrong. We also talked about hoping to get Austin and Eric in to potentially work together, which I am down for as long as we can get the numbers. I do think I have to feel out more before I do anything drastic as we LITERALLY HAVENT DONE A CHALLENGE YET. Any who, I think I am having a decent social game at the moment, but you know thats just my point of view. I hope no one hates me yet (thats for later). I wanna do a tribe call but Im lowkey nervous that chaos will ensue or it will be too quiet for some reason. I mainly want it to form more bonds with people, and possibly play a jackbox game of fibbage to see who the best liar is (it is a science).

Looking at my options for a four-man super-team power-rangers/voltron alliance, my instinct is to team up with Chips, Heather, and Dylan. While one benefit is I have some prior experience with each of these guys, the main reason is that each of these have made a consistent effort to talk to me and we have some form of rapport. Glo has also tried to talk to me but like, I know nothing about her? Its been hard to have a clear conversation. The others are fine, we’ll see how we go.

should i aim for chips-heather-dylan for a 4 alliance? or chips-heather-eric?? i know its early but this kind of alliance should be i think, at the same time though being pushy can lead to being seen as a threat... maybe i should wait to see if we loose immunity

The tea is that today Evan told me he had formed a secret alliance called "Florida" w Heather. I am okay w it because I trust both of them! We made an agreement that Evan would check tunnel 1, I would do 2 and Heather would check 3 for the idol. I hope I managed to put myself in a decent position. That's all for now I guess.

So last night we decided to pick Call Me Maybe as our song for the Lip Sync challenge which is iconic and the pretty people tribe will win!! Today was a little bit more lowkey. I spent a majority of the day finishing off my persuasive speech assignment. Towards the afternoon though, Heather talked to me about how we could work together in the game and I was REALLY glad for that. I was intending on talking to her anyway about starting an alliance with her. Earlier, Austin and I confirmed our strategical bond by making an alliance and talking about who we would want to join us. I said Heather and Austin said Coco. I really like both so I'm glad. Heather told me that she was told about the 4, so it's nice to see that everyone's on the same page. Hopefully we win the challenge, but at the moment I feel good about the group that's beginning to form.

My one fear in this challenge (aside from public humiliation) is that I think our songs a little basic and too over done? We’ll find out how the judges feel I guess

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I don’t have much new to report other than Mac saying he wants to work with me in the game. So I’ve got that going. John’s a fantastic guy and I’d love to get something going with him too. That’s a far cry from a majority in this game but it’s a start. I’m hoping we can pull through and win this challenge so we don’t have to worry at all about going to tribal first. I’m not confident enough in my position in the game right now that I’d be able to survive a tribal.

Soooooo a alliance finally started with me eric , evan, heather,and coco which I'm 100% down for with the time being . I really like everyone tho so I hope we win this first challenge . Even tho I really hate music videos . I'm awkward and never know what to do . Hopefully my tribe can carry me by with this one .

Eric tells me about this 5 person alliance plan, with himself, Austin, Heather, Coco, and myself. What I tell him, is that I am completely comfortable going with his plan and that I feel blessed to be a part of the group. However, what Eric doesn't know, is that I was the one who initially created this plan. There's a core secret 3 person alliance here with Coco, Heather and myself, along with two semi-trustworthy guys in Eric and Austin. The best part about this, is that Eric and Austin have no idea that they are on the bottom of the alliance. In fact, they think they were the ones to instigate it.

So tis' 10:53 PM on a april 12th night and the alliance between myself, Heather, coco, austin and evan is official. Coco really wanted evan involved and honestly evan is really cool and kind of a mini-me so I'm fine with him being involved. Austin and Heather also like evan so everything's good. I hope we win the challenge because I like the whole tribe but the others haven't talked with me quite as much. Glo is nice but when she dms she, she explains herself like Im silently disproving of her which is weird because she can do whatever she wants idc she's a queen. Chips is nice and we talked the most out the other 4, but sometimes I don't understand what he's saying. I don't think that's a bad thing necessarily, but I just feel more comfortable around the other 4. Stephen and Dylan are nice as well and I think they are cool, but we just haven't really got to talk that much. I really hope we win the challenge because I don't want to vote anyone out but we will see.

Wow ok Im in an alliance. Me like that. I named us the prettier people because we call our tribe the pretty people tribe. I really like the people in it as it includes Austin, Eric, Evan and Coco. Evan wants to make Coco Evan and I the core 3 in the group, however, I feel closest to Coco and Eric as of right now. Lets hope we need to talk game more LATER since I want to win the challenge rather than vote someone off. Im hoping I can somehow get alliances with the Eric Austin side, making us a core 3, and the Coco Evan side making us a core 3.

Oop Stephen is trying to form a tight 3 person alliance, today is the rise of the game play

So i decided on forming an alliance of three instead, smaller but a bit less intimidating, and I let Heather choose the third for diplomacy, she chose austin who wouldnt be my first choice but still good. Hopefully this is a good first step.

Alliance 1: The Prettier People: Me, Coco, Austin, Eric, Evan Alliance 2: The Chatty Trio: Me, Austin, Stephen (Stephen mentioned sides with Livingston and Chips as well so Id say they are affiliations) Alliance 3: Unnamed as of right now and yet to form a chat: Me, Coco, Evan I guess Austin sees us working well together so Id say that's definitely a plus so woo This happened very quickly. It has been quite an Easter in Canada

Sunshine and myself had a nice long Skype call last night getting to know each other! Darcy was there for much of it as well but it was mainly Sunshine talking. It feels really good to build a bond early on and I’m hoping we can keep that up and work together in this game. Right now Jessie seems to be the least active person on the tribe. She doesn’t really speak much in tribe chat and I’ve only had a brief conversation with her in PMs.

WE WON! Call me maybe more like Call us the winners BABY WOOOOOOOOO

Hey so I just got off an almost hour long call with Glo... and she is terrifying!!! Seriously if it wasn’t for the fact I’m 80% sure I couldn’t do it I’d want her out first. HOWEVER We Won!!!!! party party. While early tribals can be good I feel like I’m doing well enough in the bonding not to need it.

WE WON WOOOO. I was so worried!! We can all live in peace for a day Bless Up

Russell deserves to win

Well we lost the first immunity challenge which is a huge hit to morale. My only goal for the next 24 hours is to just convince people to not write my name down. I don’t feel like I’ve bonded as much as I should have with some people but I think I can keep my name off the block. I’ve already spoken with Mac, Darcy and Kevin and they’ve all agreed to work with me. So that’s 4 of the 5 majority there. I had a long call with Sunshine last night so I think I can get him on my side as well. I should be okay. But things can change so quickly in this game. As for who I’d like to vote out. Jessie has been the least active in tribe chat. But Dan is who I’ve spoken with the least out of everyone. Kevin being on exile island makes this vote both easier and more difficult. There can’t be a rock draw. Someone is getting straight up voted out.

I asked the chat if anyone had animal crossing & Evan was like ‘chip does’ literally WHAT how close are y’all ?? Evan said this was his first ever ORG. Also he straight up asked me who I knew already & who was trustworthy. Like HUH. We played smash bro’s together tho after that so I think we’re chill Anyways, I like everyone on the tribe. Glo wants to form a threesome w us & Coco which I am down for. Heather & Eric both scare me 😟 I always get so paranoid at the start of orgs I’m So glad we won that challenge bc I would be so scared of going home 🥺🥺

in alliance with Dylan who stole that video and challenge we won. My power went out and neighborhood destroyed with storm all I could do was in house by window scene and was worried I wouldn't get anything submitted but I did get something in thank goodness but I sucked. I have talked to Stephen and have talked to Chips and like both of them. I like Coco also but time difference is killing us trying to chat live but we will make it happen. I am proud of Dylan in that video so much. I want to talk live with Austin cause I have a feeling I will like him but time will tell. Glad did not have to vote anyone out and i was scared it might have been me. We only won by a point so that was close call for sure. I still try to message and reach people but getting some to talk live is hell. Only one I talk game with is Dylan and nothing heavy yet. lol

At the immunity challenge today, I believe I did a very good job staying in the middle in terms of how much work got done. I didn't do all the work, but I did enough so that I wouldn't get targeted for doing nothing

There's no denying that online survivor attempts to be fairly similar to how survivor is on T.V. However, there are still some very key differences between the two. One very important distinction is how much easier it is to get away with lying. This is because for one, they can't read your face, and two, the person lying has time to think about what they want to say before they say it. These two factors can make it much easier to lie compared to real life. Right now I'm lying to almost everyone except for Coco, who I feel would likely be a goat who I can take to the end. Don't get me wrong, I am ready to play this game very hard and do what it takes to win, regardless of if my tribe mates see that or not.

Gloria is lowkey weirding me out a little bit. Why does this old lady want to video chat with a 16 year old boy that she's never had a SINGLE conversation with? Why is she consistent continuing to ask about it? These are questions I do have, but in the game of survivor, sometimes you can't always know the answer. If I did ask, I could potentially find myself in hot water and cause bad vibes from her, so as of now I just need to keep declining her requests to video chat until I send her old ass home.

So coming into this game, I see Kevin and Darcy on my tribe, and I have a relatively okay history with them. However, Kevin is the only one that is really talking to me right now other than Sunshine. Sunshine is sooo TALKATIVE AND ANNOYING!!!!! OMFG HE WONT SHUT UP! However he is good in challenges, so he needs to stick around. honestly I have had no game talk with anyone as of yet, so I dont have much to write about.

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Hey sis, not much has happened which is worrying. Me and Darcy haven’t found the idol which is annoying. I talked to a couple people about the vote and some hadn’t made their mind and I said Chrissa or Jessie as the vote. The lack of people talking is scary tbqh.

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I hate losing cause judges are blind they are wrong anyway on a personal note if i am still in the game at this point my internet should be running better cause my mom finally gave in and called bell to switch. But i am gonna be real no one has messaged me so idk how safe i feel.

Me being able to get Chrissa out first vote. WOW COME ON NEWBIE! Snakes, they like to stay hidden. Blend in. If a person sees a snake slithering around hissing all the time, people will react negatively to the snake. But if the snake has been blending into it’s surroundings, the person wont realise. I don’t know if I’d call myself a villain or anti-hero. The reason why I want Chrissa out is because she has a bad social game and I want to keep around people who I’ve bonded with. (I swear I’m kind in real life!)

It’s certainly looking like the vote is going to be Chrissa tonight. I’m a little sad at that since she’s a genuinely wonderful person. Something about this game is just making me super depressed. Everyone’s been so nice and friendly. Everyone has put effort into the game. But Chrissa’s name was the first one thrown out and it’s just sticking. I can’t even think of another name to throw out instead. This game is going to be rough to play I think. Usually I’m not so invested in my other tribe mates but I would truly like for all of us to win this game.

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motherdoomsday6201901-blog · 7 years

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Apollonia, Masen, and, the Subita Morte Omnium Chapter 1

Apollonia and Masen would end up being the most important witch and reaper of Delphinium History

It was a normal day in De Veneficiis et Magicae academy. Apollonia was leaving her silent spell class, to meet up with Masen. He is her Best friend since she was 13, and a reaper. Reapers are the grim reaper, the thing that collects our souls and takes them to wherever they belong. Reapers have to be rather detached in order to not be horrified or saddened by the circumstances of a person's death. So Masen could be a little emotionally distant or cold to the people around him. Witches are the opposite. Their magic comes from their ferocity and passion. She is always warm to the people who meet her, and gets along well with them. But the two of them were always joking with each other.

I wonder where he is, thought Apollonia. He isn't in our usual spot. I weaved through the messy array of outside benches and tables under the armada, filled with cliques, friends and, nasty cafeteria food. I hadn't gotten my lunch just yet, I wanted to put my books and bags down.

“Hey Apollonia! Over here!” shouted Masen.

I looked over my left shoulder to see Masen sitting at a bench under a pine tree, away from the rest of the students with our lunches sitting on the table in front of him. I sauntered my way to the bench and sat across from him. My cat Ezra by my right side, as always.

“So, what did you do today?” I asked as I sat down

“Well, we learned how to get to a body when it's in a tricky place to get to,” He stated.

“What do you mean tricky?” I questioned

“I mean mangled in a car wreck or in a fallen building,” he stated casually.

Gee, how chipper I thought sarcastically. But, It must be hard to be a reaper, to see so many people die. I looked at his right forearm. All reapers have a tattoo of their scythe on their forearm, no two scythes are the same, each one is tailored to the personality of the reaper. Masen’s was a obsidian scythe. When the reaper needs the scythe they grab it out of their tattoo. Even though I am a witch, that was one of the coolest things I'd seen.

“What about you? What did you learn?” I thought for a minute, hexes, curses, spells, potions, and, shape-shifting. Then it came to me.

“I learned how to put a memory in someone else's mind,”

“Really? You can do that?” Masen asked, astonished.

“Yes,”

“Is it hard?”

“Not really, you just have to concentrate, and direct the memory into their mind, It's easy if you just get the hang of it,”

“Huh,” he monotoned. “ It seems so effortless, but the concept feels complicated.”

“ It is complicated if you're winging it without any basic knowledge, but since the procedure is based on what we've already learned, it's easy.”

“ I wish I could be that cool,” he chuckled.

“ Oh Masen,” I said jokingly, “ You're never gonna be as cool as I am,”

He rolled his eyes at me, smiling wryly.

“ Pshhhhh, Face it Apollonia, I'm unbearably cool.” Masen said “ I'm practically the king of the cool-niverse.”

This time I rolled my eyes.

“No way, I'm better than you in every way.”

He feigned a hurt look, covering his heart with his hand and curling in on himself.

“Aw, Apollonia you're hurting my feelings,” he said coyly.

“ Your feelings are fine, you liar,” I stated while rolling my eyes to give a exasperated look at Ezra. I looked on the table for my lunch, in its generic brown paper bag.

“What grub is there today?”

“The lunch ladies call it a meatball sub, I call it a crime against cuisine.”

I giggled, Masen’s snark knew no bounds. Yet I understood the ‘crime’ he meant, he’s such a foodie, you won't see him without a snack in his hands. Chips, cookies, beef jerky, pizza. He was always eating something. I opened the paper bag, grabbing my meatball sub and taking out the provolone that had melted around the corners, but was still unmelted in the center. Gross. I had never liked provolone, and I don't think I ever will. Grabbing the parmesan, I covered the sub with it, substituting cheese for cheese. I turned to look at Ezra, she was a Savannah cat. She looked like a large cat, and acts like a dog. She was always calm and never strayed for my right side, she never bit anyone and rarely hissed. She has two wide cerulean colored eyes, and a tiny pink nose, her fur was grey, with black spots on her body, and rings on her tail. She was a very stunning cat. I took a moment to take a bite of my meatball sub, the meatballs weren't very well seasoned, and the marinara was rather bland. Masen was right, this is a crime. But, I started this lunch, so I'll just have to finish it. As I ate my sub, I heard a loud crash, I looked to Ezra, thinking she pushed my bag off the table, as cats do, but this time she wasn't causing trouble. I then heard a shrill shriek, coming from Aurora. Masen and I stood at the same time, and looked at each other for a moment, knowing we need to help whoever was hurt. On the ground by Auroras feet, was her best friend, Marie. She looked as if she fainted, but clearly her face was peaceful. In that moment, she looked as if she fell asleep, but this was much more serious. Masen and I ran toward the girls, Masen cleared the quickly growing crowd away, claiming Marie needed air. While I checked her pulse.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. It seemed normal, like she decided to nap in the middle of the ramada’s concrete ground. I pulled out my phone, turning on the flashlight to check if her pupils were dilated. I started with her left eye, and shined the LED light into it.

There was a normal change in pupil size, so what could it be? This couldn't be any normal disease, or exhaustion. No one just drops like that, usually there's some sort of lethargy beforehand. I looked up at Masen, he had cleared the crowd far enough back for us to lift her up and carry her to somewhere where she could rest.

“She needs to go the nurse, this kind of fainting isn't from exhaustion, or a normal illness-this is wrong,”

“Back up, I'll carry her, you just get her stuff and take it with us. And get Aurora, so she can tell the nurse what happened.” Masen muttered.

I turned to Aurora. Her almond shaped green eyes held fear and tension, her face was set in a look of disbelief, her hands covering her mouth. Aurora could be a cold girl, but she was a fierce friend. She cared and protected her friends, and her packmates. Marie was both so her concern was natural, but the end of this I'd bet Aurora will scold Marie for not taking care of herself.

“Come on then, grab your stuff, I'll get Marie’s bag and we’ll all head down to the nurse.”

Tearing her eyes away from her friend, she looked over to me for a moment, then snagged her bag off the table. I grabbed Marie’s. Masen was already started toward the nurse's office, with an unconscious Marie in his arms bridal-style. Aurora and I followed quietly, I kept a calm demeanor in order to keep Aurora alright, but she continued to leaked concern. Marie was a healthy person, she is an athlete, and was usually the last to get sick.

**************

“I am not so sure what is wrong with her, Ms. Jackson appears to be in great health,” said nurse Murphy. “It makes very little sense.:

If Marie was in such great health, then she wouldn't be falling to the floor. So, maybe someone had it out for this werewolf. It could possibly be someone with a grudge. I turned to Aurora.

“ Aurora, can you think of anyone who may have not gotten along with Marie?”

“What do you mean? People like her,” Countered Aurora.

“I'm just thinking of all possibilities, Werewolves such as yourself and Marie heal very quickly, and rarely get sick. So having a perfectly healthy werewolf drop in the middle of the ramada floor, is very concerning to everyone, if it's an illness we need to take precautions,” I started.

“ If it's some sort of revenge, we need to figure out who and why they did this,” I explained.

Masen decided to join the conversation at that moment.

“And, the possibility of this being a cold or something is slim, So if someone did this out of contempt, they aren't very discreet and it's clear that they don't mind getting caught,” He continued, “ Thus, whoever we’re dealing with, is reckless and dangerous,”

“There's no need to jump to conclusions,” said nurse Murphy. “It could just be a prank,”

This woman is too kind to think of malicious people. She just wanted to see the lighter side of this, that I could understand. But that didn't make the possibility of revenge less possible. Prejudiced people with grudges do terrible things. Marie was a werewolf, and alpha of her pack, and her demise meant her beta would take her place. Maries beta was Gloria, who hadn't been there during the incident. How suspicious. I thought for a minute. Only another alpha or her entire pack would want her gone, thus forcing Gloria to get rid of her. But her pack loves her, Gloria may have acted on her own self-interest. Or. Another Alpha wants her pack. I should stop talking as if she's dead. She's going to be fine. I just wonder why this happened. Plus, it's not the first time a witch or werewolf hasn't gotten along with someone else. The administration came to the nurse's office at that time.

“ Hello Ms Edwards,” insinuated Mr Campbell in his low and gravelly voice.

“Hello” I responded.

I turned to look behind me, facing the tall frame of our school’s vice principal. His face was long, with defined cheekbones and copper coloured skin. He was a nice man, but the incident at lunch must have given him a irritated demeanor. He would eventually have to deal with calls from distressed parents and caregivers. Calls full of concern and irritation. I could imagine what kind of pressure he was under from the parents, what it could mean for his job. But it was more important to see if Aurora was even conscious, so he could question her. I'd be doing the same thing when he was done. He turned to Aurora, looking into sleepy eyes, to begin the inquisition.

“ So, Ms Jackson, Do you know why you fainted?”

“I…” she hesitated.

#pvhaspassion #chapter 1

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gibsongirlselections · 4 years

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Meet Your New Elites: The Woke Cancel Mobs

If only we could all lead pampered lives like Salman Rushdie.

Last week, several dozen writers and intellectuals published a letter in Harper’s Magazine that condemned—though they never used the term explicitly—cancel culture. The signatories included Margaret Atwood and Martin Amis, Gloria Steinem and Steven Pinker, while the missive itself was a fairly routine statement of classical liberal principles. “The free exchange of information and ideas,” it reads, “the lifeblood of a liberal society, is daily becoming more constricted.” Also: “The restriction of debate, whether by a repressive government or an intolerant society, invariably hurts those who lack power and makes everyone less capable of democratic participation.” The political right under Donald Trump long ago grew illiberal, the signers say. Now the resistance to Trump and the online woke are going the same way.

What happened next was utterly predictable. Conservatives, despite being denounced as illiberal in the very first paragraph, did not attack the letter, demand consequences for the signers, sneer themselves into post-anoxic comas on Twitter; mostly they praised the document and passed it around. The left, meanwhile, began a four-alarm hissy fit that’s somehow still ongoing today. The letter was accused of fanning a moral panic. Cancel culture was dismissed as fake news, a repackaging of normal political passions and activism into a counterfeit bogey.

Mostly though, progressives just crammed the letter into their usual class war. The signatories were tagged as elites desperately trying to safeguard their privilege, in contrast to their targets, the huddled masses of the Twitter woke. The letter’s critics, as Michael Hobbes of the Huffington Post put it, were “ordinary people” who lack “institutional power” and “point out the failures of those institutions.” A woke response letter published at The Objective, which appears to have been penned by an illiterate—it may be that the real divide here is between those who can write and those who can’t—claimed of the first letter, “The content of the letter also does not deal with the problem of power: who has it and who does not.” It continued, “Harper’s has decided to bestow its platform not to marginalized people but to people who already have large followings and plenty of opportunities to make their views heard.”

A few words on all this.

First, you don’t get more “marginalized” than having a fatwa declared against your novel by a national government, becoming the target of riots and book burnings, being forced into hiding, and dodging repeated attempts on your life, as happened to Salman Rushdie, one of the Harper’s signers. Another, Garry Kasparov, was exiled from Russia for supporting democracy. To be sure, this hardly compares to the tribulations undergone by your average Huffington Post staffer, who risks ennui-filled glances from her coworkers every time she shares the wrong Handmaid’s Tale GIF. But it does seem like Rushdie and Kasparov might know something about standing up for free expression. It may even be that we should consider what they have to say.

Second and more importantly, the reaction to the letter demonstrates just how oblivious the left has become to its own power. Back in the 1960s, to be a leftist was to be countercultural, smashing monogamy and fighting the man. Today’s left wants that same rebellious aura, except that they’ve since marched through just about every major institution. Academia swallows whole their assumptions; so does the publishing industry, many corporate boards, much of the media, the federal bureaucracy, a healthy section of the internet. Those who speak out against the Harper’s letter are thus not remotely “marginalized”; they are heard loudly and often. Many of them have blue Twitter checkmarks, that garish amulet of the modern elite. This is how power works now: money and rank matter less than they used to, visibility and influence count for more. And by those yardsticks, the woke are plenty powerful.

This is why a social media mob—an aggregate of all that power—can be just as coercive, just as authoritarian, as an out-of-control government. Yet the wokesters refuse to see this. They act as though by participating in cancel culture, they’re merely exercising their own free speech, their right to critique authority, a far cry from the state shutting someone up. In this, they make a mistake usually committed by only the most doctrinaire libertarians. There’s a tendency among some libertarians to divide the world into the private sector and the public sector. And right on—that bifurcation is healthy and necessary, even if these are imprecise and overlapping terms. But emblazon that line too brightly and the division can become a moral one. You start treating everything on the public side as suspect and worthy of criticism, while rationalizing away the bad on the private side. That’s just business being business, you say. You come to view Google, for example, as not just free to do as it likes, but fundamentally justified in its actions by mere virtue of its epistemological geography in the private sector.

The woke left is now falling into a similar trap. So long as the government isn’t kicking down anyone’s door, they say, there’s no censorship at work, since their angry letters and boycotts all fall under the umbrella of private expression. Yet such private expression can be a bullying force all its own. A professor who risks being fired from his position and permanently stigmatized on the internet because he says the wrong thing is not really free to speak his mind. He may not receive a cease-and-desist order in the mail, but he’s still being suppressed. Yet the left has willfully blindfolded itself to this. Over at The New Republic, Osita Nwanevu notes, “When a speaker is denied or when staffers at a publication argue that something should not have been published, the rights of the parties in question haven’t been violated in any way.” That’s technically true. But the result can be close to the same. The idea that the spirit of free speech can’t be squashed by private actors, by a culture or a crowd, is absurd.

From here, the woke left issues another denial: cancel culture doesn’t really exist. What the Harper’s letter frets about, they say, is just a smattering of incidents that hardly amount to a pattern. Really? A University of Chicago economist was recently put on leave for criticizing Black Lives Matter and opposing efforts to defund police departments. A political data analyst was fired for tweeting out academic research that found that riots in 1968 helped Richard Nixon. A children’s author was sacked for saying she stood with J.K. Rowling. A novelist stopped her own book from being published after it was attacked for depicting intra-racial slavery.

Another novelist had his book yanked for the crime of being set during the Kosovo War. Two professors at Yale stepped down as heads of a residential college because they’d suggested the university didn’t need a policy against offensive Halloween costumes. A New York Review of Books editor resigned for publishing an essay by a broadcaster who’d been acquitted of sexual assault. Conservatives like Charles Murray, Christina Hoff Sommers, and Ben Shapiro have been regularly attacked and disrupted when they try to speak on college campuses. How much more needs to happen before we’re allowed to acknowledge a trend? This isn’t prudent maintenance of the Overton window, weeding out genuine hatred and bigotry; it’s the enforcement of the whims of a neighing, infantile mob. Its aim isn’t to inquire and improve, but to ossify and silence.

The Harper’s signers thus aren’t “the real illiberals,” as the woke have asserted. Nothing in their letter suggests they want to use their power to silence their critics. What they desire is the opposite: an end to hair-trigger punishments that have sent a chill through our intellectual life. It shouldn’t be remotely surprising that artists and academics support free expression. What should really flabbergast us is that the consensus in bohemia and the ivory tower is tilting in the other direction. As I wrap up this column, Bari Weiss, one of the Harper’s signers, has just left the New York Times, citing a hostile woke work environment. Steven Pinker, another signatory, has narrowly survived an attempt to cancel him. The new orthodoxy is intolerant, hell-bent on enforcing its views, pathetically shadowboxing an elite it long ago joined. It threatens nothing less than our essential ability to communicate.

The post Meet Your New Elites: The Woke Cancel Mobs appeared first on The American Conservative.

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riverdamien · 4 years

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Praying in Faith Book of James

Praying In Faith-What We Are Meant to Do! And Birthday Reflection. James 5:13-20 "Are there any among you suffering? Let them pray. Are any cheerful? Let them sing psalms. Are any among you sick? They should call the elders of the church, and they they should pray over the sick person, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. Faithful prayer will rescue the sick person, and the Lord will raise them up. If they have committed any sin, it will be forgiven them. So confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another; they they may be healed. When the righteous person prays, that person carried great power. Elijah was a man with passions like ours, and he prayed and prayed that it might not rain--and it did not rain on the earth for three years and six months. Then he prayed again, the sky gave rain, and the earth produced its fruit. My dear family, if someone in your company has wandered from the truth, and someone turns them back, know this: the one who turns back a sinner from wandering off into error will rescue that person's life from death, and cover a multitude of sins." -------------------------------------------------------- "Prayer as we know it and talk about it can be very seductive. "Pray that Grandpa gets well," we tell a child--all the time knowing that the grandfather's time is already measured. "Pray for a nice day tomorrow," we say casually, as if the local meteorologist doesn't already know whether tomorrow it will rain or snow. "Dear God, please make Tom call, or the letter come, or the red light on the next corner turn green", we recite with a kind of Christian piety that smacks more of our own desire to run the world than it does to trust the God who entrusted it to us. Too often, we use prayers to forgive ourselves for being less that we are meant to be. Too often, "I'm praying for it" means that I don't intend to do anything else but pray that someone else will do for us what we should do for ourselves. But the situation is obvious. There is nothing done humans that humans cannot undo. There is no reason to deny our own responsibility to get it done by foisting it on God. We must get up and do it ourselves. The truth is that we must pray for the strength to do what we are meant to do. We must pray for the courage to meet the challenges of life. We must pray for the endurance it will take to go on even when nothing changes. We must pray that the spirit of God is with us as we do what must be done, whether we succeed in the process or not." Sister Joan Chittister, The Breath of God As we conclude the Book of James what are your thoughts on prayer? ------------------------------------------------------------ Birthday Reflection The Prayer to Our Lady, Undoer of Knots is as follows: “Virgin Mary, Mother of fair love, Mother who never refuses to come to the aid of a child in need, Mother whose hands never cease to serve your beloved children because they are moved by the divine love and immense mercy that exists in your heart, cast your compassionate eyes upon me and see the snarl of knots that exist in my life. You know very well how desperate I am, my pain, and how I am bound by these knots. Mary, Mother to whom God entrusted the undoing of the knots in the lives of His children, I entrust into your hands the ribbon of my life. No one, not even the Evil One himself, can take it away from your precious care. In your hands, there is no knot that cannot be undone. Powerful Mother, by your grace and intercessory power with your Son and my liberator, Jesus, take into your hands today this knot. (Mention your petition here.) I beg you to undo it for the glory of God, once for all. You are my hope. O my Lady, you are the only consolation God gives me, the fortification of my feeble strength, the enrichment of my destitution, and, with Christ, the freedom from my chains. Hear my plea. Keep me, guide me, protect me, O safe refuge.” Pope Francis has discovered on his life's journey, "Mary the Undoer of Knots, and in the last seven years she has journeyed with me as well. My life is full of knots, and as I struggle daily to undo these knots Mary is tirelessly working in her efforts in this journey of undoing my knots. Tomorrow is the day I celebrate my coming into the world. A friends father once told him, "Age is a defining number, never define yourself, live a liminal life, a life with out definition of numbers, and in doing so you will relate to everyone, sustain and respect all of life, and collaborate with everyone." He worked forty hours a week and died at 99. His philosophy has lead me on this journey. And on this day I recommit myself to three vows: relativeness, mutual sustainability, and mutual collaboration. Usually I spend this day on Round tree Blvd. in Marin with my friends. This birthday will be spent in the City because of the order to to remain in our homes. My spirit will be with all nine of my friends, my team, remembering the past years of having a party with a birthday cake, hanging with them as they played their games, and arguing as we always do. This year I will hang out with my street kids, listen to their fears, give them socks and food--joking about being six inches a part. My phone has been turned off this past week in order for me simply to relax. Constant snap chat and texts wear me out, and in coming to a new understanding of our new environment and way of living has been exhausting. I am content, in an excellent mood, and healthy. I will soon turn my phone on to my ministry of listening through snap chat, and continue to listening to my street kids, feeding them, giving them socks, and so on. I will go to Whole Foods and pick up a decent meal and eat with the spirit of my team around me,and give thanks to God for my life. Father Henri Nouwen sums up my feelings on this day, and we invite you to join us in finding hope in his words: "Again and again you see how Jesus opts for what is small, hidden, and poor, and accordingly declines to wield influence. His many miracles always serve to express his profound compassion with suffering humanity; never are they attempts to call attention to himself. As a rule, he even forbids those he has cured to talk to others about it. And as Jesus’ life continues to unfold, he becomes increasingly aware that he has been called to fulfill his vocation in suffering and death. In all of this, it becomes plain to us that God has willed to show his love for the world by descending more and more deeply into human frailty." Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God! ---------------------------------------------------------- Fr. River Damien Sims, sfw, D.Min., D.S.T. P.O. Box 642656 San Francisco, CA 94164 www.temenos.org [email protected] 415-305-2124 “Why am I compelled to write?... Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write because life does not appease my appetites and anger... To become more intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispel the myths that I am a mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit... Finally I write because I'm scared of writing, but I'm more scared of not writing.” -Gloria E. Anzaldúa Tenderloin Stations of the Cross Good Friday, April 10, 2020 Noon-2:00 p.m. Polk Street side of City Hall We will have the Stations of the Cross. Our plans are to do it alone, and have people go through the Stations at home. . Holy Communion We take Holy Communion to individuals who request the Sacrament. We administer the Sacrament outside, and have plastic gloves on, standing six feet away. We give only use only wafer, as it contains the whole body of Jesus.

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nolimitsongrace · 4 years

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The Birth of Bulldog Faith

5 Characteristics of Bulldog FaithMarch 14, 2018Do you have bulldog faith? You can! Learn the 5 characteristics of bulldog faith and start pursuing what belongs to you today!Bulldogs have a reputation. Sure, they have cute wrinkles on their foreheads, but it isn’t their appearance that draws the most attention. Bulldogs are a breed of remarkable ferocity, courage and tenacity of grip. They are stubbornly aggressive, persistent and determined. If something that belongs to you gets in a bulldog’s mouth—don’t plan on getting it back! He’ll hold on, lock down and stand his ground much longer than you’ll want to hang around. That’s tenacity!As Christians, we need to be just like the bulldog when it comes to the promises of God. We need to have bulldog faith.Why do we need bulldog faith?We have an enemy who doesn’t want us to have what Jesus paid to restore to us. The devil knows we can have anything and everything we need and desire simply by having faith—so his plan is to drain, weaken and wear down our faith through continual pressure, disappointments and discouragement. He wants us to back down and give up. He wants us to live in a constant state of retreat. He wants us to lose.If you’re fed up with the devil stealing your blessings, and you’re ready to claim what is rightfully yours in Christ, it’s time to develop these five characteristics of bulldog faith.1. Bulldog Faith Is Aggressive “The kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it.” –Matthew 11:12 (NIV-84)Faith is more than believing. The very nature of faith is aggressive, persistent, determined, tenacious, confident and commanding. It is always moving forward and continually reaching for its goal. Faith is not passive, retreating or moving backward. Like a bulldog, it seizes with a grip that cannot be shaken off.So, where is your faith today? Take a moment and consider the following.Are you maintaining or pursuing?Are you holding the fort or taking new ground?Are you settled into the status quo or reaching up to the next level?Are you throwing in the towel or going in for the next round?Are you settled in to what you already have or aggressively possessing all that is rightfully yours?God has given us everything by His grace, but we must take it forcefully with our faith. It won’t just fall into our laps. Just as you had to have faith to take salvation, you must also have faith to take every other blessing available to you as a child of God. But, you’re going to have to be willing to fight for it.Why is faith a fight?When we “fight the good fight of faith” (1 Timothy 6:12, KJV), the Greek translation describes this as fierce combat with an adversary. If a parent hands his child lunch money, it is a gift meant for that child. On the way to school, the boy may face adversaries who want to take the gift from him. He will have to fight to keep it! The same is true with the blessings of God. He has freely given them, but we have an adversary who wants to take them from us.That’s why you need to seize your blessing with a grip that can’t be shaken off. Weak faith isn’t going to produce. That’s why Gloria Copeland says, “If you let it go, it’s gone. If you don’t let it go, it’s still operating.”In other words, aggressive faith doesn’t draw back. Hebrews 10:38-39 (KJV) says, “If any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.” Does that mean God doesn’t like you if you draw back? No. It means it is His pleasure for you to have what He’s promised you, and when you draw back, He knows you are drawing away from THE BLESSING.That’s why you need aggressive, bulldog faith. The kind of faith that is never passive. Don’t ever let the devil catch you being passive!There was a time when Brother Copeland’s mom needed to get the devil out of a situation in her life. When he told her to take authority, she gently and quietly said, “Now Satan, now in the Name of Jesus….” He stopped her and said, “Mama, if a big, muddy sow came walking through the back door of your spotlessly mopped and clean house, what would you say?” She said she would chase him out swinging a broom! Then he said, “Mama, there’s something a whole lot more dangerous than a sow hog that has come into this place.” That’s when she got aggressive in kicking the devil out of her territory—God’s territory.You can’t afford to be passive about anything where the curse is concerned. You can’t afford to be passive about the Word, you can’t afford to be passive about any attack in your life. No. It is time to take up arms and fight the good fight of faith—aggressively!Learn more about Bulldog Faith from Gloria Copeland and Pastor George Pearsons in this video.Want to get notified the next time we upload videos like the one above? It’s easy, simply subscribe to our YouTube channel2. Bulldog Faith Bites Down and Won’t Let Go “Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering.” –Hebrews 10:23 (KJV)If you take a good look at the face of a bulldog, you’ll notice his jaw protrudes, while his nose is indented. This allows him to bite down and hold on to something almost indefinitely. Bulldogs are stubborn—refusing to let go once they’ve locked on. You can try to pull something out of a bulldog’s mouth, but it won’t let go. It will not give up.That is a picture of you as a believer!You have to bite down on the Word of God—who you are, what you have and what you can do. The devil will try to take it from you, but don’t give up, don’t quit. Be a bulldog where the Word of God is concerned.The Bible is full of examples of bulldog faith. In Luke 18, Jesus shares a parable that illustrates this type of faith in the persistent widow. She needed justice from a judge, so she pursued it relentlessly, and she did not stop until she got what she wanted. She refused to give up; and she tenaciously, stubbornly and persistently kept coming and would not quit.That’s how you need to be in your faith. Don’t let go of your dream. Don’t let go of your passion. Don’t let go of your faith. Don’t let go of your hope for restored family relationships, your dream home, your dream job, healing and freedom from debt. Don’t let go!How do you not let go?Keep talking it. Keep speaking it. Keep believing it. Keep it in front of you. Develop your ability to see things that be not as though they were. And don’t let situations put constant pressure on you—you keep the pressure on your situation.It takes aggressive action to get aggressive results. But, in due time—you will reap. You’ll see it come in. You’ll see it become reality. It will manifest.Bite down on the Word like a bulldog, and don’t let go until it is yours.Click here for a Confession of Determination you can recite today.3. Bulldog Faith Never Takes No for an Answer“This is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.” –John 5:4 (NKJV)The doctor says, “No, you won’t get better. No, you won’t walk again. No, you can’t have a baby.” Your employer says, “No, you can’t have a raise, and no, we don’t have room for promotion here.” The world says, “No, you can’t enjoy that kind of prosperity without the right degree or climbing the ladder for 30 years.” But what do you say? What does Godsay?Every opportunity before you is an opportunity for either faith or failure—the choice is yours.In the book of Mark, blind Bartimaeus chose faith and persisted until he got his healing:When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus of Nazareth was nearby, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” “Be quiet!” many of the people yelled at him. But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” (Mark 10:47-48).The world was telling him to be quiet and stop claiming what belonged to him, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.The result?“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked, “My Rabbi,” the blind man said, “I want to see!” And Jesus said to him, “Go, for your faith has healed you.” Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus down the road (v. 51-52).He was fed up with being blind. He got persistent with his faith, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.The persistent widow and Bartimaeus both applied nonstop, constant, continual, steady, relentless pressure on their covenant and on the devil. They did not let go, and they got what they were after. So can you.Don’t let what others say or the passing of time affect your faith. Bulldog faith never quits. Bulldog faith says, “God’s Word is mine now. Devil, you can’t take it from me. Just be assured—when this is over, I win!”4. Bulldog Faith Is Fully Persuaded“And being fully persuaded that, what he had promised, he was able also to perform.” –Romans 4:21 (KJV)At 100 years old, you would have to be fully persuaded to believe you would be the father of many nations! And that’s exactly what Abraham was—fully persuaded.What does that mean?Fully persuaded doesn’t mean hoping something is true, wishing to believe it’s true, or liking the idea. It doesn’t even mean thinking it could probably happen. No. Being fully persuaded means you are completely convinced, without a doubt, that what God has said will absolutely come to pass.How did Abraham stay fully persuaded in spite of an impossible situation? He focused on God’s Word and refused to pay attention to natural circumstances. He wouldn’t allow himself to waver, hesitate or doubt. He didn’t flip-flop back and forth from faith to fear. He stood firm.You can develop the same kind of fully persuaded “bulldog faith.” Start by confessing the following:“I heartily agree with everything God has said about me in His Word.”“I heartily agree with God’s Word that I am healed.”“I heartily agree with God’s Word that I am prosperous.”“I heartily agree with God’s Word that I am redeemed.”When you become completely confident, you will dare to believe God instead of natural circumstances. You will come to expect those promises to come to pass in your life. You can walk in the same fully persuaded “bulldog faith” that Abraham did and receive your promise, just as he did.5. Bulldog Faith Takes It“How long are you going to sit around on your hands, putting off taking possession of the land that God…has given you?” –Joshua 18:3 (MSG)How long have you been waiting for a promise to manifest in your life? Those promises already belong to you (Ephesians 1:3), just like the Promised Land already belonged to the Israelites. All they had to do was take it. But they let fear stop them and cause them to postpone and put off taking what was rightfully theirs.Bulldog faith doesn’t waste time. Bulldog faith takes it.Second Peter 1:3-4 says, “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises…” (NIV-84).Whatever you need already belongs to you. How long are you going to wait to possess it?You can claim what is yours—NOW!How do you possess your land? You claim it by faith! For example, if you need financial provision, take these steps:Say, “I claim the money I need as a child of God, according to His promises.”Say, “Satan, take your hands off my money.”Say, “Ministering spirits, go, and cause the money to come.”Bulldog faith commands what rightfully belongs to you to come to you. It calls into existence the things that do not exist.Bulldog faith commands things desired from out of the spirit realm into the natural realm. That’s exactly what the centurion did in Matthew 8:8-10. He said, “Speak the word only, and my servant will be healed” (KJV). In other words, he was telling Jesus, “Your Word is the only evidence I need.” Jesus took notice of this kind of faith. The greatest faith is faith in God’s Word and its authority alone, not demanding any physical evidence.Bulldog faith is not afraid to put pressure on the Word by making a faith demand on your covenant and expecting what is already yours. God will always supply as long as there is a demand. “Take it when you pray! Then you can drive it, live in it and spend it.” –Gloria CopelandWhen you get aggressive, bite down on the Word of God, refuse to take no for an answer, and are fully persuaded when you take it, you will develop a bulldog faith that will defeat the enemy every time. You will reap a harvest if you don’t let go of your bulldog faith. You can live and walk in everything God’s covenant promises—just don’t let go!Related Articles:A Confession of Determination© 1997 - 2020 Eagle Mountain International Church Inc. Aka Kenneth Copeland Ministries. All Rights

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the-record-columns · 6 years

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Jan. 31, 2018: Columns

The day I met Paul Cashion...

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

One of the most often asked questions of me is how I got into the newspaper businesses.

My stock answer is that you should tell children and grandchildren to just play the cards they are dealt, because I never had any plans on having the career I've had. But, I manage to enjoy it every day.

So the short answer is that I do what I do for a living because of plainly random things.

And, of course, Ray Stroud.

I was a young man of 22 in 1972; my draft card, which was neatly signed by Mildred B. Neff of the local board, read 1-A. Therefore, I was a prime candidate to be soon going to the Army, and I was unemployed. However, I had found a little house I wanted to buy and Charlie Ham, my Realtor, suggested I see a man named Ray Stroud at what was then the Wilkes Savings and Loan Association in Wilkesboro.

All was going well--I had saved some money for a down payment and I felt as though I could handle the payment that the loan required--one way or another.

Then Mr. Stroud asked me that fateful question, "Where do you work?' "Nowhere," I replied. I can still see that look of amazement and amusement on his face when he threw his pencil high in the air and said, "Well, we had better be figuring on getting you a job." I explained my draft status and about jobs I might be able to do, and I mentioned that I had worked for a while for a heating and air conditioning contractor in Durham. When I mentioned that, Ray said he knew a man looking for some help in that very area.

He sent me to Cashion Oil Company in North Wilkesboro and I met Paul Cashion, the owner. Paul also owned Northwest Heating and Air Conditioning and in no time he had offered me a job.

And, this is really where this story begins.

We ran into a snag on the issue of my pay.

I had to have more money that he had offered me in order to be able to close Mr. Stroud's loan — 40 percent more money. Well, that was a pretty good stretch, but I went to work on an arrangement. I proposed to Mr. Cashion that he should indeed pay me what I needed to make the Wilkes Savings and Loan happy, and, that I would work for him for 90 days at that pay rate. In that time I would be able to close the loan and, if he wasn't completely happy with my work — and my pay — I would write him a check back for the difference he had first offered.

In his long slow drawl, he said he wanted a minute to think that over, having never had such a proposal offered to him. To his great credit, he quickly stood up, shook my hand and said, "Let's give it a try, " quickly adding, "We've absolutely got to keep this deal between us."

Well, I worked like a man possessed. I worked so hard the other guys made fun of me, calling the "company man," and the like.

But I didn't care. I had no intention of having to pay back that money, so I kept at it. When I got caught up at the heating shop, I would go over to the oil company and help out there.

In no time the 90 days was up and Mr.Cashion called me into his office. I took a seat and waited confidently for him to tell he how great I was. He leaned over and slowly spoke, "Ken, I don't think I want you to work for the heating shop any more."

I was stunned.

Then I was mad.

I could feel my face turning white, then beet red, as drew a breath to demand WHY?

Paul continued, "Now, before you get mad, hear me out. I also own a radio station in Wilkesboro and there is an opening there in advertising. I think we would both be better served if you were working there."

By now, I was feeling much better. He went on to say he would make the same deal, that, if after 90 days, I didn't like the radio station job, I could have my old job back at the heating company.

I took the radio job and have been in the advertising business ever since. I worked for Paul Cashion for nine years, till 1982, when I helped to start Thursday Magazine, predecessor to The Record.

When I told him I was quitting my job, he offered encouragement and unqualified support.

And he did so as long as he lived.

Indeed, there are very few people you can work for, go into business directly competing with, and, years later, still count them as a friend.

Paul Cashion was one of them, and I will be forever grateful to him.

Finding Holiness

By LAURA WELBORN

This is a story about a hand-made quilt.

Actually, it’s a story about me. I’m that quilt.

If you’ve ever done any quilting, or know someone who quilts, then you know that a quilt starts in pieces that should fit together perfectly. But, imperfections happen, and you either give up, or you deal with them. Here’s the story:

I have just had a wonderful week of birthday celebrations and it was a balm to my soul. I connected with friends and my stepdaughter, Jordan, came to visit. In my quest for meaning I opened myself to "messages from the universe" and visions of what is to come. I came across this quote from The Gospel of Thomas: "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you." I realized the message I was looking for was about all the scars and pieces of failed attempts from my past.

I received for birthday some quilt squares that someone started but never put together and decided to embark on making someone else’s hard work into a quilt. I started off imagining this great quilt until I started pinning it together- the squares did not match exactly and it became obvious that someone had the best of intentions but gave up. I thought of the person who started these squares and how they must have gotten discouraged when the pieces did not fit and that’s how they ended up in the Goodwill basket of donations.

Gloria with Gloria Sews once told me: "If people want something perfect they can buy it already made, but part of the charm of a handmade quilt is the imperfections."

With this in mind I went ahead and put it together. It is perfectly imperfect and I love it. I wish I could show the person who gave up on it that it did work. I thought about my life and all the imperfections that are a part of me and the people who appreciate that. I have to admit I am good at taking pieces of a puzzle and putting them together. I’ve decided to take this piece of me, this attribute, and make it my work. I am about to embark on an adventure of helping people with addictions in relapse prevention and putting their lives back together in a healthy way. I promise myself that I will not get discouraged at the bumps along the way or the setbacks- and I will remember the lesson of the quilt squares- "to make it with the best of intentions and not give up when the squares are off kilter."

My boys sent me birthday wishes that further inspired me.

Jake wrote: "You’ve always been an incredible example of following your passion and doing what you love, this past year seems no different."

Levi wrote: "You have taught me so much about life, and continue to inspire me every day with your positive energy and pursuit of good in the world. Keep on fighting the good fight and don't let the outside noise distract you."

There is my message and now it is up to me to follow through.

My mission/dream is to help people with substance abuse issues. This will include getting their drivers' licenses back and learning new skills along the way so it is the last DWI they ever get. I hope to help people keep their families together in safe and healthy homes. Starting next month I will be working with DonLin counseling Services.

What are you looking for? What pieces in your life need to be put together? The poem by Mary Oliver of Musical notes ends with "we find holiness wherever we are- in the sunset or in the lilles."

Laura Welborn, Mediator and Counselor for DonLin Counseling visit website DonLin Counseling.com

Infidel Free Zone

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

According to Open Doors, a humanitarian organization with offices in twenty-five countries around the world, 215 million Christians experience persecution around the world. Not surprisingly, most of this persecution comes at the hands of Muslims and includes rape, torture, harassment, kidnapping, destruction of property and overall deplorable treatment which relegates Christians to a subhuman status with no rights and no protections.

Mesopotamia, the area of the world known as The Cradle of Civilization located between the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers, is believed by many scholars to be the area where the Garden of Eden was located and the region from where Christianity sprang forth. This region today corresponds to Iraq (mostly) but also to Iran, Syria and Turkey; all of which are Muslim majority countries. Sadly, the region of the world where Christians once thrived is now the region of the world where the worst persecution of Christians is taking place on a daily basis.

Religious persecution is the world’s most enduring crisis and for Christians it is intensifying especially in Islamic countries. Where thriving Christian populations once existed, the percentage remaining today has dropped into the low single digits. For those Christians living in these areas, time is running out. Being forced to live as Dhimmi, or third-class citizens, life for Christians under Islamic rule has become unbearable. In order to live in a Muslim-dominated society, Christians must pay a special “tax” just to stay alive. This special “tax” is nothing more than street gang or Mafia-style protection money. Supposedly it affords the infidel (anyone who is non-Muslim) certain rights and protections but, in reality, a Dhimmi has no rights and therefore no protection. Why would a non-Muslim need to pay protection money? Because Muslims are mandated by the Quran to kill all infidels. According to Breitbart, 100 years ago the Christian population of Turkey made up 20% of the overall population. Today that number is less than 0.2% and dropping and this is but one example.

Is there any place truly safe for Christians to live in the Middle East? The answer is “yes” and the country is Israel where safety, security, freedom and democracy apply equally to all and do not require payment of a special “tax.” If the current trend of Muslim aggression and expansion (infiltration) continues and the world becomes more Islamic, so will the number of Infidel Free Zones-even here in the United States.

Once in a blue (blood, super) moon

By HEATHER DEAN

Reporter/Photojournalist

152 years ago.

It was the dawn of 1866. Lincoln had been assassinated less than a year before. The Civil War had come to an end and the Reconstruction Era had begun, bringing the end of legalized slavery plus citizenship for the former slaves.A period of rapid economic growth and soaring prosperity, that saw the U.S. become the world's dominant economic, industrial, and agricultural power through an unprecedented wave of immigration, providing the labor base necessary for the expansion of industry and agriculture, as well as the population base for most of fast-growing urban America.

It was also the last time that the moon did exactly what it’s about to do January 31. For the first time in 152 years, we will bear witness when a supermoon, blue moon and lunar eclipse coincide for a spectacular astronomical feast.

But what exactly is this phenomenon?

Blue moons usually appear once every two and a half years. The last blue moon occurred in July 2015. However this year, we get a special treat and have another on March 31.

A supermoon glows brighter than the average moon, and this one is the only chance you will have to see one this year. In reality, the atmospheric phenomenon causing the moon to look 14% larger doesn’t seem like much, but the brightness intensifies, and

Blood moon” refers to a lunar eclipse, where the sun, Earth and moon line up in such a way that our planet cuts off the moon’s sunlight supply. It will drift into the Earth’s shadow and begin to glow a warm, orange-red as light passes through the Earth’s atmosphere.

The best viewing area is the west, Alaska and Russia, as dawn will be breaking already on the east coast. But not to worry! According to its website, NASA will broadcast live coverage of the super blue blood moon from 5:30 a.m. ET January 31. The Virtual Telescope Project will follow the event from Australia and the U.S., beaming the eclipse from 6:30 a.m. ET. The telescope project will also stream the non-eclipsed super blue moon from Rome starting at 11 a.m. ET.

As you reflect upon the science, or watch the live stream , and go about your daily business in the shadow of this amazing phenomenon, think about what your ancestors must have said about this event…..7 generations ago.

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takenews-blog1 · 6 years

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Stars Who Stand With Muslims

New Post has been published on https://takenews.net/stars-who-stand-with-muslims/

Stars Who Stand With Muslims

All through his marketing campaign and time in workplace, Trump hasn’t been quiet about the truth that he’s decided to register Muslim Individuals in a database–which is clearly not OK in any respect and appears eerily just like what occurred throughout the Holocaust and through World Struggle II, with the Japanese-American Internment Camps. Now that he’s President, that marketing campaign promise has turn into extra than simply phrase service, there could also be “tooth” and deliberate intent to revisit the errors that we thought had been lengthy since gone. However, celebrities are taking a stand and rallying assist for the Muslim neighborhood.

In November 2016, then-candidate Donald Trump was requested: “Is there going to be a database that tracks the Muslims right here on this nation?” And, he responded: “There must be a variety of techniques, past database, we should always have a variety of techniques, and at this time you are able to do it.”

Since then, there’s been a number of debate about what Trump stated (or didn’t say) after his rally that day, and whether or not or not he absolutely understood the query being requested by the reporter. He was later requested particularly how he’d get Muslims registered in a database. He replied: “It will be simply good administration. What it’s a must to do is nice administration procedures and we are able to do this.”

Kris Kobach is Kansas Secretary of State. At one level, he was rumored to be within the working to be named Lawyer Basic, however we all know now that it didn’t go wherever. Might being handed over for A.G. have something to do with feedback he famously shared with Reuters about Trump’s Muslim Registry?

Kobach is notorious for the hardline anti-immigration laws he’s helped draft. In November 2016, he reported that he’d been a part of discussions that included what he known as “excessive vetting” as a part of the immigration enforcement. And, hey, you knew that the registry already existed, proper? Kobach really helped launch the Nationwide Safety Entry-Exit Registration System (NSEERS) below President George W. Bush’s Division of Justice. Not a shock, proper?

Yep, it existed for years, following Sept. 11, 2001. And, it actually wasn’t a shock on the time. America had been the goal of a catastrophic terrorist plot, so the Nationwide Safety Entry-Exit Registration System (NSEERS) was put into place. On essentially the most primary stage, NSEERS officers had been answerable for interrogations, fingerprinting, registering non-citizens, and monitoring their journey.

Whereas this program was applied in 2002, it got here below common criticism from immigration rights advocates, who claimed it profiled immigrants based mostly on faith and ethnicity. Whereas the Justice Division claimed the regulatory framework was profitable, that declare was hotly debated. The American Civil Liberties Union stated it was largely “ineffective.” With some 93,000 circumstances filed, there have been no (zero, zilch) convictions.

Parts of NSEERS had been suspended in 2011, and President Obama ordered that your entire registry be deleted in December 2016, below strain from some 200 civil-liberties organizations and with an announcement from the Division of Homeland Safety that it was “rendered out of date.” Sounds nice, proper? Properly, don’t rejoice simply but… Simply signing the order could not have been sufficient!

Since Obama signed the regulatory order so near the tip of his time period in workplace, it may be rescinded by an act of Congress. In fact, given the uncertainty and infinite realm of potentialities, there are actually rumors that the Trump administration could use the registry for nefarious causes.

In some way, you may simply guess that the Japanese-American internment may be talked about by extra than simply naysayers, however you’ve gotta admit that Carl Higbie’s line was a bit excessive. He was on Megyn Kelly’s Fox Information present when Higbie stated that the registry proposal can be authorized and that it might “maintain constitutional muster.”

Higbie additional acknowledged: “We’ve achieved it with Iran again awhile in the past. We did it throughout World Struggle II with the Japanese.” He additional argued that some Muslims comply with “excessive ideology,” and are “doing hurt.” In the end, he stated, “Look, the president wants to guard America first, and if meaning having individuals that aren’t protected below our Structure have some form of registry so we are able to perceive — till we are able to establish the true menace and the place it’s coming from, I assist it.”

Trevor Noah is the host of The Every day Present, and he has been very vocal about his opinions concerning the Muslim registry, notably throughout an episode that aired in November 2016. “We have to stand in solidarity with Muslim people who find themselves being focused by Donald Trump,” he stated. “If they begin registering Muslims in America, we all register as Muslims.”

Trevor Noah indicated that if everybody stood up and claimed to be Muslim, it might “take away any energy the registry might need.” He additionally stated that giving Trump a Muslim Registry (notably after every thing he’s stated over the past two years) appeared like “a harmful thought.”

Former US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright has been very vocal in opposition to registering Muslims but in addition Trump’s govt order, which has been known as the “Muslim Ban.”

“I used to be raised Catholic, turned Episcopalian & came upon later my household was Jewish,” Albright tweeted. “I stand able to register as Muslim in #solidarity.” However, the talk concerning the registry debate actually goes hand-and-hand with the Muslim ban, because it’s all a part of the reported effort to both refuse entry of Muslims into the US, whereas concurrently monitoring any Muslims who do arrive.

It’s a double-edged sword for human rights and immigration activists. And, Albright has gone additional to say: “There isn’t a tremendous print on the Statue of Liberty. America should stay open to individuals of all faiths & backgrounds. #RefugeesWelcome”

There have been many references to the Statue of Liberty and in addition that well-known poem by Emma Lazarus thatso famously begins: “Give me your drained, your poor, your huddled lots craving to breathe free…” In more moderen days the photographs of determined Syrian refugees have additionally continued to tug at your heartstrings and depart us all with the extraordinary need to do extra to assist.

The Ladies’s March was already a strong assertion in protest in opposition to President Trump, his administration, and his insurance policies, however together with the upsurge of passionate depth from the crowds, you additionally heard inspiring speeches, just like the one from Gloria Steinem, a famed feminist writer, journalist, and activist, who stated: “Should you drive Muslims to register, we’ll all register as Muslims.”

“So don’t attempt to divide us. Don’t attempt to divide us,” stated Steinem. She’s no stranger to political and social controversy. In 2015, she additionally turned an honorary co-chairwoman of 2015 Ladies’s Stroll For Peace In Korea. She was additionally an honorary co-chairwoman for the Ladies’s March, in Washington DC, in January 2017.

Mayim Bialik is an actress and neuroscientist, who’s recognized for her position on Blossom and The Huge Bang Idea, for which she gained the Critic’s Selection Tv Award for “Greatest Supporting Actress in a Comedy Sequence.” Past the lengthy listing of roles on tv and films, she’s additionally a vocal activist for the causes which might be most vital to her. Concerning the Muslim Registry, she stated: “I’m Jewish. I stand able to register as a Muslim in #solidarity if it involves that.”

She has known as herself a staunch Zionist, and she or he’s additionally been a star spokesperson for the Holistic Mother’s Community. She additionally wrote a ebook, Past the Sling: A Actual-Life Information to Elevating Assured, Loving Kids the Attachment Parenting Means.

Jennifer Lawrence is an American actress who’s well-known as one of many highest-paid actresses on the planet, with fame from her roles in Backyard Occasion (2008), Winter’s Bone (2010), X-Males: First Class (2011), and naturally Starvation Video games (2012-2015). She’s not been silent, and she or he additionally supported the Ladies’s March final month. “Don’t give this administration a ‘probability’ to do the horrible issues it desires to do,” her assertion learn. “Battle for equality, struggle for ladies to have management over their our bodies. Thanks to all of those that are taking motion!”

Along with her notorious background taking part in Katniss Everdeen and Mystique, she’s within the good place to actually lay all of it out. As she most just lately posted to Fb: “My damaged coronary heart goes out to the harmless lives of Muslim refugees which might be attempting to flee terror and discover security for his or her households. I and thousands and thousands of Individuals perceive that somebody’s race or faith ought to by no means preserve them in hurt’s approach. It must be each particular person’s responsibility to assist and shield anybody regardless of their nationality. I pray for sanity and compassion to return to the White Home.”

Whereas some celebrities are saying they’ll join the Muslim registry and others are talking out in opposition to it, Katy Perry is taking it an enormous leap additional. She produced a Public Service Announcement (PSA), directed by Aya Tanimura. As a approach of shedding gentle on the realities of what the Muslim registry may actually imply, they instructed the story of Haru Kuromiya, one of many survivors from the Japanese-American internment camps.

In dramatic style, the video attracts parallels between the Japanese internment and Trump’s Muslim registry. She additionally blitzed her PSA out by way of Twitter, asking, “Is historical past repeating itself?” She additionally used the hashtag for “Don’t normalize hate.”

After Carl Higbie’s feedback concerning the Muslim registry, George Takei (well-known for his position on Star Trek) took up his pen in an essay, printed by The Washington Put up. Sure, Higbie cited the Japanese American internment camps as a “precedent” for the Muslim registry, however Takei was really there.

George Takei was 5 years previous when he was taken from his residence, and finally despatched “1,000 miles to the east by rail automotive” till they reached the “fetid swamps of Arkansas on the Rohwer Relocation Heart.” He says, “Actually, it was a jail: Armed guards appeared down upon us from sentry towers; their weapons pointed inward at us; searchlights lit pathways at night time. We understood. We had been to not depart.”

In the course of the Ladies’s March final month, Alicia Keys took to the stage with a strong and memorable speech about ladies’s rights, racism, and discrimination. A part of her speech included: “No hate, no bigotry, no Muslim registry.”

She additionally stated, “We is not going to enable our compassionate souls to get stepped on. We wish one of the best for all Individuals.” As an award-winning singer-songwriter and actress, with 35 million albums and 30 million singles worldwide, she additionally sang a model of “Lady on Fireplace,” making the important tweak to say: “These women are on fireplace.”

Howard Gordon is the creator of Homeland, for which he gained the Primetime Emmy Award for “Excellent Writing for a Drama Sequence.” He additionally co-developed Tyrant with Craig Wright. He additionally produced Awake, and did work on Nation Estates, The X-Information, one episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel and The Inside.

Together with his work on Homeland and Tyrant, he included Muslims and Arab-Individuals within the Artistic course of — with enter from an on-staff author, in addition to Muslim Public Affairs Council (MPAC). He instructed TheWrap, “There’s a distinction between recognizing and discussing the hazard of terrorism and exploiting the local weather of concern on this nation. We now have a accountability to recollect what all of us have in widespread.”

The Muslim Public Affairs Council’s Hollywood Bureau bridges between the Muslim neighborhood and the leisure trade. In response to stories, they’ve obtained “dozens” of cellphone calls from Muslim, Jewish and Christian members of the leisure world providing phrases of assist.

“In a method, the human neighborhood is coming collectively in Hollywood,” Suhad Obeidi, director of the MPAC Hollywood Bureau, instructed TheWrap. As extra assist continues to come up from celebrities in Hollywood about President Trump’s Muslim Registry, Obeidi says, “I’m very hopeful.” She’s involved about younger Muslims, although she doesn’t imagine that Trump’s agenda might be rounding up Muslims and throwing them into internment camps.

As a response to all of the marketing campaign guarantees to determine the Muslim Registry, Candace Thompson began what she known as “a bit artwork undertaking.” It’s the Nationwide Registry of White Males. “Overlook the nation of Islam, our most instant menace to home safety is and at all times has been white, straight males,” she wrote in a Fb put up in November.

“That’s the reason I’ve determined to do my half as a Purple Blooded Patriot by creating The White Male Registry. It’s a easy google kind full with questions that may assist establish simply how a lot of a menace to American safety any particular person white male could pose to most people.”

The Spokane Metropolis Council voted to assist an ordinance that will stop any metropolis worker from collaborating within the improvement of “a program that requires, or has the impact of requiring, individuals to register on the premise of spiritual affiliation, perception, or conduct.”

Whereas some known as the ordinance an instance of bewilderment, key members of the Council stated it was important to make sure public security. “You possibly can’t conceal your head within the sand, and stop – I simply need to begin crying,” Metropolis Council Ben Stuckart stated, earlier than calling for the vote. “It’s actually occurring, these items are actually occurring.” Different communities are following go well with.

Michael Fertik is an Web entrepreneur and privateness advocate, in addition to CEO of Fame.com. In 2010, Fertik has been known as “Entrepreneur of the 12 months” by TechAmerica. Forbes additionally stated that he’d “roughly invented the sector of on-line fame administration.”

He has spoken out in opposition to the Muslim registry, in addition to stated that he would enroll as a Muslim within the registry. This month, he reiterated in his put up on Twitter: “I hereby renew my pledge to affix a Muslim registry if any such ugliness seem within the US.” He doesn’t appear to thoughts what the assertion will do to his superstar standing.

As President Trump goes forward with the Muslim Registry promise, it simply is sensible that tech staff might be concerned in programming, knowledge gathering, and evaluation. That’s why some tech staff are actually standing up and saying that they need no half within the assist of a Muslim Registry.

They’ve all signed a pledge on NeverAgain.tech. “We refuse to construct a database of individuals based mostly on their constitutionally-protected spiritual beliefs. We refuse to facilitate mass deportations of individuals the federal government believes to be undesirable,” the group wrote. The tech staff additionally promise to talk out if knowledge is misused at their firms, and in addition give up their jobs as a substitute of supporting controversial (even presumably unlawful) data-collection practices by the federal government. As all of the voices coalesce in protest in opposition to the Muslim Registry, the hope is that it’ll all make a distinction.

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trevorbailey61 · 7 years

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Van Morrison

Symphony Hall, Birmingham

Monday 13th November 2017

It has been a busy evening. Whilst being a multi-instrumentalist was taken as a given for everyone in the band, most could at least relax and play just one during the course of each song. Adding the percussion, however, required dexterity and alertness, one moment tapping out the rhythm on bongos, then a short solo on the vibraphone before a tingling of bells at the precise moment to illustrate the lyrics. If that wasn’t enough, two microphones placed either side of the instruments that all needed to be hit indicate that whatever else is going on, backing vocals are also required to provide an interesting harmony with another backing singer standing to the left. Amongst all this, however, the percussionist can still turn to her fellow singer and smile, she is having a good time, as are everyone else. Now I have never seen Van Morrison before but I have talked to many who have and the one thing they tend to agree on is that having a good time is something that can’t be taken as a given, either for the audience or those who share the stage with him. Many years ago, shortly after introducing myself to his music through a copy of “Astral Weeks” that I managed to pick up for £1 in a Nottingham record shop, I was dissuaded from hearing him live when a friend shared his experience of waiting for hours for him to appear only for him to disappear about twenty minutes later. More recently, I found myself relieved that I hadn’t taken the plunge at Symphony Hall a few years ago due to him spending the entire concert with his back to the audience. With time for both of us running out, however, there are only so many times that it can be put off and as I take my seat amongst the Van veterans around me I start to hear of mesmerising and spellbinding concerts along with those where he clearly couldn’t be arsed. I am confident that this will be one of the good ones.

At precisely 8:00pm with the hall still fully illuminated and many still finding their seat, the band take to the stage. The star, however, waits for his introduction; musical legend and knight of the realm, Sir George Ivan Morrison walks purposefully to the microphone as the band form a semi circle around him. Dressed in a black suit with the jacket buttoned tightly, dark glasses and a small hat obscure much of his face; there is still little that he is prepared to share with us. In his arms he cradles an alto saxophone to which he will turn frequently to add stabs of brass, with an often muted trumpet played to his side, as well as a few restrained solos. It is the instrument he clearly prefers now but one that he has perhaps yet to fully master. A light swing rhythm sets the mood and forms the background as each of the band introduce themselves through a short solo; precise, exquisitely played and none outstaying their welcome. Without skipping a beat, the pace quickens, a familiar baseline emerges and a few chords on the piano appear on the off-beat. Morrison begins, “Well, it's a marvellous night for a Moondance”; the articulation may not be as precise as it was, a few words are slurred particularly as he pushes his voice to the limit of its range but the joy in its warm familiarity offers reassurance; he is here to give us a show.

There is, however, little time to wallow in its nostalgia; “Moondance” forms part of a short medley where it is fused with a later song, “Look Beyond the Hill”, an approach he will use to present other familiar songs, in particular those he recorded with Them at the beginning of his career. Starting with “Baby Please Don’t Go”, he takes us through some of the blues standards the Ulster boys would have cut their teeth on, “Don’t Start Crying Now”, “Parchman Farm”, “Custard Pie” before “Here Comes the Night” rounds off this excursion into his distant past. Even where a return to the home key indicates that the song has reached its conclusion, the next is being counted in before the applause has started, the appreciation that we want to express is not expected nor it appears even wanted. The set may run to a generous twenty plus songs lasting nearly two hours but the star remains intent on spending as little time on stage as he can get away with. Needless to say, there are no introductions and other than a couple of muttered thank yous the only spoken words are when a technician was attempting to set a microphone to the correct height on the one occasion he played the piano, the song continuing even as the adjustments are being made.

With 37 albums already to his name, number 38 is expected in a few weeks, even though its predecessor was only released in September, the breadth of Morrison’s output is staggering and in drawing on different parts of his career, he showcases the sheer quality of his music and the consistency of his writing. With so much great music, there are the inevitable disappointments about what is left out, particularly the absence of any songs from “Astral Weeks”, but alongside the familiar and expected, there were a few obscure gems that it was a pleasure to hear him return to. Throughout the playing was immaculate, the band effortlessly moving from a rolling jazz swing to blues to soft west coast rock and even to country for a cover of “I Can’t Stop Loving You”. The pace was gentle allowing space for each of the musicians the chance to adorn the songs with well judged solos, held together by Paul Moran’s carefully structured musical direction. With the band remaining on stage at the end of the show, it does become more indulgent emphasising just how meticulously the arrangements have been put together prior to that. So smoothy and seamlessly does this work that it is noticeable on the one occasion it doesn’t; as Morrison completes the first verse of “Did Ye Get Healed”, he is momentarily frozen as he waits for the refrain to be picked up, the rest of the band looking helplessly at each other before Moran points to the guitarist to get things moving. The stutter was for no longer that a couple of seconds but the moment of tension stood as a contrast to the easy feel of the remainder of the set.

The In his early work, Morrison tended to reflect on his youth in Belfast, often from the perspective of an exile remembering the places and people as they were then. “Brown Eyed Girl”, possibly his best known song which makes it a surprise inclusion given his contrary nature, recalls a romantic encounter with a sense of joy that can either be infectious or irritating depending on your point of view. It is a song that over familiarity has not been kind to, particularly given the hamfisted way in which it is often covered, but Morrison did manage to remind us why we did, at one time, love it. For someone who has revelled in his role as a curmudgeon for the best part of his life, love and companionship are themes that occur with a surprising frequency in his lyrics. “Warm Love” shares a tender moment of intimacy, something that “Vanlose Stairway” tries to recapture despite the despite the distance that now separates him from the other person. Through this search for personal fulfilment his songs are united by an underlying spiritual quest. This was rarely overtly religious, although he wasn’t averse to this as on “Whenever God Shines His Light”, originally performed with Cliff Richard although his female backing singers now provide a more intriguing contrast to his own voice. Mostly, however, his interest is in how the resolve to carry on can be found within, of how we are strengthened by the way in which we respond to adversity and the terrible things that life can throw at us. “Days Like This” is typical in this respect, whilst there is nothing in particular to face up to, “When you don't get betrayed by that old Judas kiss”; the struggle to carry on can still be very real. In “Little Village”, his quest is to ”Hear the voice of the silence, in the evening; In the long cool summer nights”, a rural idyll where “Everything’s going to be alright”. This sense of optimism, that deep though the well may be, there will be another day and that within us we have the strength and courage to face it, is what makes Morrison’s work so uplifting and is what, despite his gruff exterior, gives an emotional heart and warmth to the show.

Morrison returns to the early days once more for “Gloria” for which the audience are on their feet and chanting back the letters as he spells out the name, the only time deliberately looks for a response. “Thanks to the band” is his final comment before he leaves them to indulge themselves more than us as he makes his escape before the audience fully realise it is over. Morrison’s reputations as an awkward live performer has always put me off seeing him before but tonight showed the passion that he has always had for his music, and probably explains why when it isn’t happening he can’t fake it. With a superb backing band, it was a show of warmth and sincerity, a legendary act who I am glad I finally managed to get around to seeing. “A marvellous night for a Moondance?” - you bet.

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junker-town · 7 years

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The Marlins have always been as weird and mesmerizing as their home run sculpture

The scale of it, man. The scale of it.

Even if we assume that the seagull is almost as big as the sun only because of perspective, that it’s an optical illusion, it wouldn’t explain the size of the marlins behind the sun. They rotate around the sun, unfathomable celestial leviathans, wider than the diameter of an entire star, spinning, spinning, spinning. The sun is a fraction of the entire structure.

The Marlins’ home run sculpture stands alone as the most imposing ballpark structure in baseball. The Astros put a train in their ballpark. This is bigger. The Diamondbacks have an 8,500-gallon swimming pool. Considering that 30 gallons of water are shot out after every Marlins win and home run at home, the structure would have filled that pool on May 18, 2015, and every subsequent win and home run would have sent water spilling all over Chase Field, an outfield waterfall. The Royals have an actual waterfall, and it’s 20 feet taller than the Marlins’ structure, but it’s a boring waterfall, at least in comparison to shuffling flamingos and spinning marlins the size of a taxi cab.

The Angels got a rock.

The Marlins’ sculpture towers over the rest of the field, and it’s even more noticeable with the absence of upper-deck seats in left and left-center field. When the upper deck does start, it’s roughly halfway up the sculpture, and it ends just a little under the top marlin’s bill at its zenith.

Mike Ehrmann/Getty Images

Before the Marlins’ home run structure was a living, pulsing megalith that crawled out of the seventh layer of your subconscious in the middle of a fever dream, it was an innocent Facebook video. It mesmerized me. Then it mesmerized the internet. I wrote words of disgust and abject horror.

If Carnival and Las Vegas had a baby, this would be the placenta. If Charlton Heston ever lands on Planet of the Fish, this will be their version of the "It's a Small World" ride. This is what would happen if Vikings attacked a Gloria Estefan concert by catapulting flamingos and marlins into the pyrotechnics display.

The idea of it was appalling, a ludicrous blight in a long-awaited ballpark.

Two thousand, one hundred and fifty-one days after writing that article, I was standing in the belly of the beast, with a line from David Bowie’s “Space Oddity” running through my head:

Tell my wife I love her very much, she knows.

Grant Brisbee

And now I’m here to express regret. I’m here to offer my sincerest apologies, an earnest mea culpa. As 500-foot home runs whizzed by the sculpture in the 2017 Home Run Derby, some of them clornking off the face, which made fans cheer wildly, as if the batter had just won some sort of special carnival prize, I was in. As I stood underneath, with the rivets and girders, with mecha-flamingos eyeing me hungrily, I was in awe.

This thing is incredible. It’s perfect.

What was I thinking back then?

I’m so, so sorry.

The reaction to the Marlins’ home run structure (officially the “Home Run Sculpture”) didn’t spring from the earth fully formed, though. It had to be nurtured with just enough soil, just enough light, for decades. For everyone to laugh at the Marlins’ logo, the fish behind home plate, the structure that looked like a pimple drawn by Lisa Frank, there had to be history. The Marlins needed to be weird already.

The Marlins were weird already.

Mike Albans/NY Daily News Archive via Getty Images

They weren’t initially. Sure, the teal wasn’t a traditional baseball color in 1993, but it made sense in context of the time. The Marlins were just an expansion team, a blank slate, Dombrowski rasa. Somewhere in an old high school yearbook, there’s a picture of me in a Marlins cap. Didn’t know anything about the team other than it was new and no one else in my school had one. That’s all there was to know, really.

When the Marlins bought their way into contention before the 1997 season, spending a then-record $89 million on free agents, they weren’t weird. That’s the sort of thing a new, upstart franchise might do to capture the hearts and minds of their new city. You might see it happen with Paul Allen and the Portland Oddballs.

Except that spending spree was the paradoxical last-ditch effort of an owner who wanted free stuff. Here’s a passage from If They Don’t Win, It’s a Shame, by Dave Rosenbaum:

(Owner Wayne) Huizenga planned on finding out in one season whether South Floridians had any interest in Major League Baseball and whether they would support a competitive team. He was testing the value of his investment by investing more. He was buying a competitive baseball team for South Florida and threatening South Florida at the same time.

If the fans didn’t come out, Huizenga would take away their team.

Huizenga wanted a $60 million tax break to renovate Pro Player Stadium, which he owned. He didn’t get it. He wanted a free ballpark. He knew he wasn’t going to get that. And as the wins piled up, so did the debt on the baseball side. The fact that Huizenga owned the stadium and the television channel broadcasting the games helped buff that quite a bit, but the attendance was disappointing when compared to the wildly optimistic projections of an owner who thought that fans would immediately flood the gates for a contending team. It was an open secret that Huizenga was going to sell, even if the Marlins won the World Series. Even if that meant an out-of-town buyer.

When the Marlins actually won the 1997 World Series, though, in front of 67,204 throaty, delirious fans who got to watch one of the best postseason games in baseball history, it was easy to wonder if Huizenga might have changed his mind. Rosenbaum described the post-game celebration, which contained just as much mirth and jubilation as you would expect:

And later, still smiling, (Huizenga) said, “They were sticking (champagne) down the back of my trousers, and I was giving it right back.”

Four years into their existence, they had shown their fans just how much fun baseball can be. Some teams take decades to do that. There are a couple on the West Coast that still haven’t done it.

Imagine a rich, powerful man surveying the scene after winning the World Series, reaching the summit quicker than any franchise in baseball history, exulting with the 50,000 fans going out of their minds after one of the greatest Game 7s in baseball history, riding in the back of a convertible during a ticker-tape parade with thousands of throaty, passionate fans.

Brian Bahr /Allsport

Now imagine thinking, “Eh. There’s no future in this. Better dump this stock while it’s hot.”

Now imagine that same man going back to his lucrative day job, which was The Lord Baron of VHS Tapes.

Huizenga stuck with Blockbuster and he gave up on baseball. You don’t need to see a line graph to know how that worked out (though Huizenga is still very much a billionaire, of course). The Marlins gave their fans an 11-day honeymoon period before starting one of the most memorable fire sales in baseball history, a crushingly quick demolition project that abused fans and blamed them at the same time. “Thanks for caring, but we regret to inform you that you didn’t care enough. We’re sorry you’re making us do this.”

This was the beginning of the Marlins being confusing. This was the beginning of them being counterintuitive.

This was the beginning of them being complete and total weirdos.

The only thing that’s different with the Home Run Sculpture now compared to when Marlins Park opened? It’s time. And that’s the baseballiest damned thing I can think of.

Mike Ehrmann/Getty Images

Time isn’t just baseball’s weapon. Age will turn war criminals into elder statesmen, commercial flops into collector’s items. But baseball has a way of processing everything into thick, nourishing, viscous nostalgia. Consider the unspeakably gaudy uniforms from the ‘70s, with the Nuclear Waste Orange of the Houston Astros to the Welcome To Fatherhood! yellow and brown of the San Diego Padres. They’re back in style now. They’re charming. They’re fantastic.

The fonts, the colors, they all work. It all makes you remember that baseball happened, and it was good, even when it was awful. Candlestick Park, bless it, was one of the worst ideas in the history of sports architecture, but it’s also where I grew up, and I would get a picture of it tattooed on the inside of my arm.

That kind of nostalgia took decades, though. The Home Run Sculpture became cool much sooner than that, possibly before the end of the inaugural season of Marlins Park. It wasn’t set off until the fourth home game, when Omar Infante hit the first Marlins homer in the history of the park, but more home runs followed, regular home runs, breathtaking home runs, walk-off home runs.

Giancarlo Stanton home runs.

Mark Brown/Getty Images

And the sculpture spun and spun, whirled and splashed, with fans splitting their time watching a Marlin circling the bases and marlins orbiting the sun

Over 81 games, over several years, the search for the neon obelisk became instinctive, an obvious part of the ballpark experience. Mike Stanton turned into Giancarlo Stanton, his final form, and he did more to keep the marlins twirling than anyone could have possibly hoped. It became as unexpected as ivy on the outfield walls, a pool behind the fence, a gigantic slide with a mascot hurtling down, an apple rising out of the rat-infested depths.

The bizarre became codified. It was part of the optimal experience.

The weird became good.

You can see where this metaphor is going.

There isn’t a city in baseball — maybe baseball history — that’s punched its fans in the nose quite like Miami. The intentions are strong. The results are always, always, always disastrous.

In 1956, the Triple-A Miami Marlins were the first baseball team in Miami to play above Class-B. They had watched the Wahoos, Surf Sox, Seminoles, Tourists, Flamingos, Tigers, and Hustlers over the years, but this was by far the closest the city had ever been to Major League Baseball. Expectations were buoyed by owner Bill Veeck, famous for his promotions and general hi-jinx.

On opening night, in front of a not-quite-sellout crowd, a helicopter started circling the field after the top of the first. It landed by the pitcher’s mound, and a 51-year-old Satchel Paige got out, announced that he was on the Miami Marlins, and took his seat in a comfy chair Veeck left in the bullpen.

Bettmann / Contributor

Later in the game, there was a bench-clearing brawl. Just because.

Miami already knew that baseball had the potential to be fantastic, but it had some incredible reminders on that opening night. Later that season, Veeck threw what he called “The Baseball Party to End All Baseball Parties,” a blowout at the Orange Bowl with celebrities (Cab Calloway! Merv Griffin!) that drew 51,713 fans. Paige pitched one of his best games as a Marlin, in a repurposed stadium that wasn’t meant for baseball. The right-field fence was just over 200 feet away from home plate, and the left-field fence wasn’t much farther, but Paige was masterful. Miami was already a boomtown, and now it looked like it was a thriving baseball hub.

Three years later, the team moved to Puerto Rico. That move was such an instant failure, they moved to Charleston, W. Va. in the middle of the danged season. That was the end of the first Golden Era of Miami baseball, which didn’t last long.

In 1979, baseball returned to the city with the Miami Amigos, who were a stacked team in the new Inter-American League, a league that was Triple-A quality, with teams in Panama, Venezuela, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico. The team was managed by Davey Johnson, and their ace was Mike Cuellar, one of the greatest Cuban pitchers in baseball history. They drew relatively well, unlike the original Marlins, and by August, they were in first place by nearly a dozen games.

They had cheerleaders called “The Hot and Juicy Wendy’s Girls.” I don’t know how to fit that in with the rest of the story, so I’m just going to leave it here.

While the Amigos were rolling, the league was not. Players weren’t getting paid, visa problems were keeping players from traveling from country to country, and tropical storms were wreaking havoc on the schedule. In the middle of the season, the league folded. It was the best baseball Miami had seen in decades. But the players and the Hot and Juicy Wendy’s Girls were all out of a job.

Bettmann / Contributor

Two near-major league teams. Two punches in the nose.

In 75 years, the Home Run Sculpture will be iconic. It will be a destination. the ballpark will be ancient and adored, and people will walk into this classic piece of Americana, walk through the tunnel to get to their seats and see it in the distance, with 80 years of weather and air conditioning aging it more than a touch, but in the most charming way possible. A father will put his arm around his son or daughter and just stare.

If you think they won’t, go watch people stare at a green wall in Boston. It’s a green wall. Stop staring. I will build you a green wall, stop staring.

Except the Green Monster is more than a green wall, it’s pure baseball magic. And someone in the future will dig through the history of Marlins Park, and they’ll discover that there was a time when everyone thought the structure was a joke, an out-of place abomination, like the people who couldn’t imagine spoiling the natural beauty of the Golden Gate with a bridge. They’ll use mind-Twitter to share it around the world, and everyone will laugh at us. And we’ll deserve it.

Assuming Miami still exists, of course.

If it does, that is my dream. This should be Wrigley Field after we’re gone.

It says something that in a list of weird disappointments, the slow erosion of the 2003 World Series team doesn’t rate. It wasn’t a true fire sale, after all. A couple of free agents walked away. The star first baseman was exchanged for a younger, cheaper first baseman. The Marlins didn’t do much to improve the team, but they didn’t sell off their best players. They just didn’t capitalize on the rare, renewed interest that winning the freaking World Series brings a team. Again.

No, the true sequel to the 1997-98 fire sale came when Jeffrey Loria wildly succeeded beyond Huizenga’s dreams. The ballpark was built; the ballpark was mostly built with public money. The Marlins covered a quarter of the initial cost of Marlins Park. The city of Miami and Miami-Dade county picked up the rest, without getting any of the revenue from ads, naming rights, concessions, or luxury suites.

The Miami Herald offers a sentence that does better than the six paragraphs I want to write.

For every dollar Miami-Dade borrowed in this transaction, it will pay back $13.

I would like to think this was the last of the truly obvious stadium swindles, but, no. There was another one in the same division just a few years later.

Mike Ehrmann/Getty Images

If the Marlins wanted to be a functional baseball team, though, the ballpark was magnificent. The reason the original Marlins left is because they didn’t draw well, with teams like Buffalo bringing twice as many fans in. And while the Amigos were winning and winning, it’s not like they were selling out every night. This is because Miami is hot. And sticky. And rainy. And sticky. Watching a two-hour baseball game while stationary in sticky, sticky heat is a portal into the void, a prison from which you might not escape. Just imagine what a three-hour game would do.

Also, it’s sticky. Hot, too. Don’t forget the sticky.

Marlins Park is cold. The air conditioning thrums and thrums all game, and it’s almost worth bringing a sweatshirt. But the contrast is extraordinary. This is what needed to happen for baseball in Miami. It’s what’s always needed to happen, but it was always science-fiction. Now they have it. This is the perfect ballpark for a successful Miami baseball team.

And once they got it, Loria thumped his scepter and decreed that THE MARLINS WERE A BIG-MARKET TEAM NOW. While it’s hard to agree with the use of public money, the Marlins took the 2011-2012 offseason by the throat and threw it through a plate-glass window. They were involved with every player, every rumor. They signed Jose Reyes away from the Mets, which was almost too symbolic. The poor, strapped New York team couldn’t get a seat at the table with the bullies down in Miami. They signed Josh Johnson and Mark Buehrle. They made the cover of Sports Illustrated.

They were close to signing Albert Pujols, if you can imagine.

So while the money for the stadium was dubiously acquired, at best, at least the Marlins fulfilled their destiny and became a team worthy of the ninth-largest metropolitan area in the United States. They made it.

Then it didn’t work, and 11 months later, it was all dismantled again.

Loria got to keep the stadium, of course.

The mega-contract to Giancarlo Stanton was something of an olive branch, then. Not just to the Marlins’ superstar, but to the fans. There were no hometown discounts. There were no happy-to-be-finishing-my-career-here sentiments. Stanton said, “Pay me, you weirdos.” And he was right to do so. He wasn’t happy with the Second (Or Third, Depending Who You Ask) Fire Sale. He said so himself. And if his own tweet isn’t enough to convince you, check out this gem of a quote:

"Five months," he said, "doesn't change five years."

Translated: Five months of pretending to be a big-market team doesn’t change five years of being absolute weirdos. So he got the $325 million. And it was backloaded, with the Marlins refusing to include a no-trade policy, per team policy, but what were the odds that the team would have another fire sale?

Loria wants to stay loyal to his executives but still reduce the debt to make the purchase price more appealing, meaning their players will have to depart. It doesn’t matter if your name is Marcell Ozuna, Christian Yelich, AJ Ramos or even Giancarlo Stanton, the Marlins are preparing to strip it down for the next ownership group.

Oh, come on.

Let me tie the Home Run Sculpture into the story of the Marlins: You’ll get used to them. The Miami Marlins are destined to be a baseball powerhouse. They have the ballpark. They have the market size. They have the potential fan base. And when it all clicks, you’ll look back and wonder why you thought they were so weird for a quarter-century, just like I’m ashamed about my lack of obelisk appreciation.

The difference is that it’s not going to be on the same timeline. It’s going to be more of a geological scale for a franchise that’s punched its fans in the nose, for a city that’s used to teams punching them in the nose. Committing to a baseball team doesn’t come easily for anyone. Games are long. Seasons are long. Rebuilding periods are long. So long. Chunks of your life. You can define huge portions of your existence with the epochs of your favorite teams.

The Marlins won, and they said “nope.” Then they won again, and they said, “Eh.” They got a brand new stadium, and they pretended like they weren’t going to say “nope” again, but then they said “NOPE,” all-caps. Those decisions might have made sense to the people making them at the time, but they led to some pretty thick scar tissue for anyone interested in Miami baseball.

That will change. New owners are coming in, with Derek Jeter fighting against Jeb Bush, unless they’re working together to stop Mitt Romney, unless that’s Tagg Romney, unless Michael Jordan is about to dunk on all of them, or form partnerships, or ... look, it’s a mess, but the larger point is that Jeffrey Loria is going to turn $158 million into about $1.5 billion. If you’re mad that a rich person gamed the system to get richer, oh, buddy, we’re going to be here for a while. Just let that part go.

The new owners, though, won’t have the patience to be weird. They won’t see the profit in punching their fans in the nose. That’s too much money to futz around. They’ll see the positives. The gift of a ballpark. A region that is looking forward to not getting punched in the nose. A huge, untapped market.

Being weird won’t be cost-effective, and you’ll get used to the Marlins. They’ll have ups and downs, just like every other team, but they’ll shed that identity. They’ll just be a team, one of the 30 in Major League Baseball. Maybe a little richer, even. This is the end of the roller coaster, and the Miami Marlins would like to offer you a nice, unremarkable carriage ride through the park. All it will take is a lot of time, and a lot of trust-building.

It will be unsettling, but you’ll get used to it. You’ll appreciate it. You’ll love it. And you’ll wonder what was so strange about it in the first place. For decades, the Marlins were bright lights and spinning confusion, spinning marlins and glass-eyed flamingos, a shrieking spectacle that elicited just one response: “What in the hell was that?”

Then you get used to it.

Then it’s awesome and imposing.

Then it’s just ... there. Like it always should have been. Like it was always meant to be. The Marlins are going to take their rightful place in the baseball universe, and the only thing to wonder is what took them so long.

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